Jax raised his gaze to the rearview mirror. The second Mercedes was still there, its headlights two bright unwavering points of light racing after them. “Who the hell are you?”
“This is Agent Farnsworth, with Homeland Security.”
Jax kept his foot on the gas. “Like that explains anything?”
“You’re in trouble, smartass.”
When Jax said nothing, the voice barked, “Pull over, damn it. We need to talk.”
Jax smiled and feather-edged a corner, the Jetta’s engine purring. “We are talking.”
“Just pull the fuck over.”
Jax said, “I’ll pull over when I can see you in a well-lit area with lots of people around.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No. Just careful.”
There was a moment’s fuming silence. Farnsworth said, “There’s a village about a mile up ahead. Will that do?”
“Probably.”
The houses whizzing past on either side were growing closer together. Jax eased up on the gas. They thumped across a narrow old stone bridge, into a main street where the curtained windows of close-packed stuccoed houses glowed brightly with light. A man in a raincoat and hat looked up as they passed, the little wire-haired dachshund at the end of his leash letting out a halfhearted woof.
“It’s well lit, with lots of people,” barked the voice on the phone. “What are you waiting for?”
“I’ll know it when I see it.”
Near the far outskirts of the village they came upon a closed market, its small lot well lit by a high bank of sulfurous lights. Rolling into the lot, Jax threw the Jetta into reverse and backed into a slot just in front of the market’s closed doors, his headlights stabbing out into the lot.
“I want you to park directly across from me and turn off your lights,” he said into the phone.
“You got it, asshole.”
Jax watched the big Mercedes back into the row across from them. Turning the phone off Speaker, he covered the mike and whispered to Tobie, “Get out your gun and cover me.”
She dug the compact Beretta out of her bag. “You know I can’t shoot, right?”
“You’ve got twelve bullets. If anything goes wrong, just point it in these guys’ direction and let it rip.”
Tobie eased off the safety with trembling fingers. “Right.”
“Now open your door, slowly, and stand behind it,” he told her quietly. “Keep your gun out of sight, but ready.”
She nodded and cautiously lifted the handle of the door.
On the far side of the parking lot, the driver of the Mercedes killed his lights. Jax could see two tall figures silhouetted against the streetlamp behind them.
Agent Farnsworth said, “What now, asshole?”
“Now get out of your car. Carefully. If you’ve got an ID, I want it in your hands. And that had better be all that’s in your hands. Hold your ID up to your chest with both hands and walk across the lot toward me. Your friend stays in the car.”
“You got it.” The passenger door of the Mercedes swung open. A tall, lean man slid out carefully and began to walk toward them.
Jax opened his own door and slowly straightened, his Beretta in his hand. He waited until the guy was maybe three feet away, then said, “That’s far enough.”
Agent Farnsworth drew up, the muscles of his clenched jaw working furiously. He was a lean, hard-muscled man with dark eyes and darkly tanned skin and a sharp-featured face that ended in a pointed goatee.
“Keep your hands where I can see them and hand me the ID,” said Jax, the car door still between them.
“What’s your fucking problem?” said Farnsworth, holding out his badge. “It’s a fucking Homeland Security ID. It’s real.”
Jax gave a soft laugh. “Yeah. I had FBI credentials myself just two weeks ago.”
He glanced through the guy’s credentials, then tossed it back. Farnsworth caught it with one hand. Jax said, “What do you want?”
Farnsworth started to put his ID away, then froze when Jax said quietly, “Don’t.”
The muscles along the man’s jaw bunched again. He said, “This is a Homeland Security operation from here on out. You’ve done your job. Now it’s time for you to back out.”
Jax stared at the idiot. “That’s what this stunt was for? So you could tell me that?”
“You’re the one who decided to play cute by taking off.”
“I’ve got people trying to kill me.”
“We’d have identified ourselves if you’d have just given us a fucking chance.”
“Give the wrong people a chance, and you end up dead.”
The guy was practically grinding his teeth. “It’s not your problem anymore. Now that we know for sure what we’re dealing with, we can take it from here.”
Jax hooked one elbow over the top of the Jetta’s open door. “You know, I hate to tell you this, but I don’t take orders from you guys. I work for a whole different outfit.”
“We’re all on the same team, remember?”
“That’s what I keep hearing. I tell you what: you go back and pull your guys out of that ditch, and just go on with whatever you were doing. When my boss tells me to quit, I’ll quit.”
Farnsworth jabbed the air between them with a pointed finger. “You’ll be hearing from him,” he said, and turned back toward the Mercedes.
Jax said, “By the way-”
Farnsworth swung around again. “What?”
“Where’d you get my phone number?”
Rather than answer, Farnsworth just turned his back and walked away, one finger raised in a backward salute.
Jax called after him, “Next time you want to talk to me, use the damned phone.”
Farnsworth kept walking.
“Well, that was all very adult and highbrow,” said Tobie, sliding back into the car and slamming her door.
Jax shut the driver’s door with a click. “Hey, I didn’t hurt the car, did I?”
She stared across the parking lot. “I don’t get it,” she said as they watched Farnsworth jerk open his door. The Mercedes’ powerful engine roared to life, tires squealing as the agents peeled out of the parking lot and raced back up the road.
Jax turned the key and eased the Jetta into gear. “It’s just a bureaucratic turf war. Homeland Security grew big and fast after 9/11, which meant they hired a lot of arrogant assholes who don’t really know what the fuck they’re doing. And thanks to the Patriot Act, they think they can do anything they want.”
“But what are those guys even doing here? I didn’t know we had Homeland Security people in Germany.”
“Are you kidding? We have Homeland Security people everywhere. Even the NYPD has ‘anti-terrorist’ guys over here. It’s supposed to make everyone feel safer.” Jax thrust the Jetta into gear and hit the gas. “Bankrupt, but confident.”
She was silent as he rolled slowly back through the quiet village. As they hit the outskirts and he began to pick up speed, she said, “Do we back off?”
“Not until Matt tells us to.”
“Do you think he will?”
Jax shifted rapidly into fourth, then fifth, the Jetta’s engine purring through the dark night. “Not a chance in hell.”
They took a room in Bremen, at a small guesthouse beside the Weser River. While October took her first shower in four days, Jax called Matt.
“I take it you passed on my information about the possible atomic nature of U-114’s cargo to Homeland Security?”
“Share and share alike; you know our new motto. But their reaction was interesting.”
“How’s that?”
“I got the feeling it wasn’t exactly a big shock to them.”
Jax was silent for a moment. “Are we the only ones who thought this whole thing was about Nazi gold?”
“Probably. You know what Washington is like. No one ever levels with anyone else.”
“Share and share alike.”
“Right.” Matt was silent a moment before blowing out a harsh breath. “This is serious shit, Jax. If these terrorists really have got their hands on an atom bomb-even an old one…”