When Jackson came back into the main part of the restaurant, he quickly spotted Jan at a table, and he also saw a man standing in the doorway. He had a book in his hand, and it had a purple cover.
Jackson made his way over to him. “Hi. The bay looks cold tonight.” This was the phrase he’d been told to use to identify himself.
“Only for swimming,” the man replied, returning his identity phrase. Jackson was relieved to hear the man spoke English.
“My friend already has a table. I’d like to leave immediately if that’s okay with you, but we both want a hot chocolate first.”
“Sure,” the man answered. He spoke decent English but with a decided Scandinavian accent. “My car’s just outside. I’ll wait for you there. It’s a black Ford Kuga, right in front.”
Jackson walked back to collect Jan, then asked him to order two hot chocolates to go and gave him some krones. When they had their hot drinks, he went out to the car while Jan paid. Jan joined them a moment later with his drink in one hand and two coats draped over his arm. He handed one to Jackson and donned the other. It was too large for him, but not outrageously so.
Jackson gave him a look, and Jan smiled.
They traded names. Jackson and Jan gave theirs, and the man said he was Mikkel. He was a large man, tall and heavily built with unkempt hair and workingman’s clothing. His car had been on the road for several years by its appearance. Jan got in the back and Jackson sat next to Mikkel.
When they were outside town, heading southeast, Jackson asked Mikkel if he knew their destination.
Mikkel glanced at Jackson, reading him, then said, “Why don’t you tell me?” His tone was curt and not especially friendly. “And I’d like my fee now.”
Jackson was surprised. He’d expected the man to be an employee of the State Department or perhaps the CIA. A man like that shouldn’t be acting cold toward him. This needed to be straightened out.
“You work for us, don’t you?”
“What do you mean by ‘us’.”
“The U.S. government. One of the agencies.”
“No, I’m an independent contractor they hire now and then for this sort of service. I’m thinking about retiring, though. How much money are you carrying?”
Oops. Jackson didn’t like this at all. “Enough for your fee. They told me what to pay
you.”
“Huh. They never pay enough. I want double what they said, and if you don’t agree, I’ll either kick you out of the car here or take everything you have. I don’t see you putting up any fight. You look weak to me.”
“No, I’ll pay what was agreed when we reach Hamburg.”
“I don’t think we’ll be going that far.”
After that, it was silent as the miles rolled by. It was about a four-and-a-half-hour drive from Grenaa to Hamburg. First they had to leave the Jutland peninsula. They did that by cutting west and driving through Aarhus, then south through Skade.
A few kilometers south of Skade, Mikkel left Highway 451 and drove east. It was only a short distance to the Bay of Aarhus. The whole area seemed deserted at this time of the morning. Mikkel found a dirt road that led directly to the beach. He drove till it ended, then stopped the car.
“All get out!” he declared in a commanding voice. He reinforced his demand by pulling out a pistol and pointing it at Jackson.
All three of them stepped out of the car.
“Move down the beach to the water.” Jackson and Jan did as instructed.
The beach was mostly sandy and wide. They had to walk quite a ways to reach the water. There, Jackson and Jan stopped. Mikkel was right behind them.
Mikkel ignored Jan and spoke to Jackson. “Give me all your money and what you’re carrying. I know you’re a courier, and whatever you’re carrying is probably worth a lot of money. I want it, too. Give me those things and I’ll leave you here. Resist and I’ll shoot the boy. Then you. It’ll be easier if you just give me what I want.”
“They’ll come after you, you know.” Jackson was scared, but also determined. He couldn’t simply give up. He was a U.S. agent!
“Hah! I’m retiring and moving to a warmer place. I knew this would be my last job for your country. All Americans are arrogant, and most, like you, are weak. Now, the money and what you’re carrying. I won’t ask again.”
“I’ll give you my money.” He took out his wallet and removed the money from it and handed it to Mikkel. “I don’t have anything else.”
“You want me to shoot the boy? Okay, watch this.”
He turned the gun toward Jan.
“Hey, stop! Wait! Are you a murderer? I don’t think so. But even if you shoot both of us, it won’t get you any more than you now have, and it’ll mean all the police forces all over the world will be looking for you. Your retirement will be a giant game of hide-and-seek, you’ll be scared all the time, and they’ll catch you before long.”
Mikkel raised the pistol, still pointed at Jan, who simply stared back at him.
Mikkel thought about what Jackson had said, and he lowered the pistol. “You may be telling the truth about what you’re carrying, or you may be lying. I will find out. Move down the beach.” He gestured with the pistol to move south. They all started walking in that direction. “Too many people come to this place,” Mikkel said. “The beach is too nice. We’ll go to where the rocks are. More private.”
A few hundred yards later, they left the sand and came to a place where the beach was rocky and smelled of kelp. The rocks had been worn smooth by the waves and storms, but this was not as inviting a place as where they’d been, where walking on the fine sand was easy.
“If you want to live, you’ll do as I say. This is your last chance. No one will hear the shots, no one will find your bodies for a long time. I want what I want! I will have it. Everything I’ve asked for. To be sure I’ve got it, you must strip so I can check your clothes. So take everything off. Everything. Shoes, socks, underthings. Toss everything to me. Do it now.”
He raised the gun again and this time fired it, aiming into the rocks between the two hostages.
Jackson didn’t see a choice. Resist and he’d get them both killed. He began taking off his coat. Jan did the same.
As they moved around removing clothing, there was a brief time when they were facing each other. At that time, Jan caught Jackson’s eyes and nodded down at the rocks they were standing on, then back up at Jackson. Jackson realized Jan was trying to tell him something but had no idea what.
Jan was stripped first. He almost seemed eager to do so. He stood naked and shivering in the light cool breeze, moving around on the rocks. Jackson had to crouch down to loosen the laces on his shoes. He was doing that when suddenly Jan yelled and began dancing.
Jackson had no idea what he was yelling as he was speaking Danish, but Mikkel did. Jackson did hear something that sounded like ‘Av, av,’ and then a string of words he expected were Danish.
And just that quickly, Jackson knew what Jan’s look had meant. He’d already knelt down on the rocks to unlace his shoes. Seeing Mikkel’s eyes were on Jan, he picked up a stone the size of a baseball and stood up. Mikkel was only ten feet away—Jackson couldn’t miss at this distance.
He threw the rock as hard as he could. It slammed into Mikkel’s face, breaking his nose and knocking him over backwards. Jackson immediately was on him; he wrested the pistol from him and turned to toss it into the bay.
“Shoot the fucker!” shouted Jan. “Keep the gun. We may need it!” Jan was finally showing some emotion.
Jackson hesitated, then held on to the pistol. “Get dressed,” he said. “Then come here and hold the gun on him. I’ve got to get his keys.”
Ten minutes later, Jackson behind the wheel, they were back on the road, heading toward the 451. Going south.
Jackson too was emotional. How had such a simple-sounding adventure become a nightmare? Yeah, he’d been assigned a circuitous route for his delivery, but so what? That only made it a bit more exciting. He didn’t know why he wasn’t assigned a direct flight, Washington D.C. to Heathrow. That would have been much faster, but no, he’d been sent on a much more complicated route, and he’d been told not to ask questions, so he hadn’t, and the reason for the route hadn’t been explained, just laid out for him. This was his first courier job. Now, sitting in a stolen car driving away from a naked confrontation on a lonely, windswept and freezing beach that may have ended up with both him and his companion being shot, he had to wonder how typical a courier job this was and whether he wished to stay in this profession.
He hadn’t expected to be involved in anything like this. He was not an adventurous, risk-loving swashbuckler. He was the opposite of that. What he was going through seemed ludicrous.
Jan had deduced that he’d been betrayed. Well, either betrayed by someone in his chain of command or discovered through some breach of the clandestine nature of his mission. Either way, there was a serious problem and he was in a precarious position because of it.
But right then, what he needed to do was concentrate on the here and now, not worry about what was transpiring elsewhere. He needed to focus on staying alive till he could get back to talk to his people, whoever they were. He was over his head, and he knew it.
Worrying about that had to be left till later.
He did have a question for Jan, who’d been sitting silently, watching the Danish landscape flowing by the car’s window. “What were you saying, back on the beach, that grabbed his attention?”
“We needed a distraction. So I made up what I said about jellyfish to give me a reason to jump around. I said, ‘Jellyfish stings. Ouch, ouch! It hurts!’ He took the bait. I didn’t see how he could help but look.”
“Jellyfish? Up on the beach?”
“Yes! They get washed up at high tide. Their stinging parts are still active. People get stung all the time just walking on the beach barefooted. I yelled about jellyfish so he’d know it was real and you’d have the opportunity to attack him.”
“I was embarrassed,” Jackson said, “getting naked. Scared and naked. You didn’t seem bothered at all, getting undressed in front of him. And me, I guess.”
“Americans! What is it about you guys being naked? We have naked beaches, naked showers, naked saunas. From the time we’re young, we go in the saunas naked. Everyone does. Men and women together. Americans are so modest. We see it all the time. Tourists. We think they’re silly. We make fun of them. Well, not to their faces, but when they’re not there. Why are you guys ashamed of your bodies? We don’t understand that.”
“Well, I guess it’s a cultural thing. I’m not used to people seeing me naked.”
“Why do you care? You have the same parts everyone else does, don’t you?”
“I guess when we’re young we’re taught not to let anyone see us. That our bodies are private. At that age, you don’t question your mother when she says that.”
“No one tells us that. We don’t worry or get embarrassed if someone sees us naked. That isn’t sex. Sex is private. Everyone has it, but it’s still private. I’ve heard you guys are all uptight about that, too. We do it in private, mostly, but it’s another natural thing. It doesn’t embarrass us for people to know that we have sex.”
“Cultural differences,” Jackson said. The whole conversation embarrassed him.
They rode in silence then, through Odder and Hundslund and then southeast to Horsens to where the 451 turned directly east. It connected with the E45 motorway which they’d take all the way into Germany. There, the E45 would morph into the A7, the road they’d remain on till they entered Hamburg.
Jan became uncomfortable with the silence. They crossed the Vejle Fjord, driving south. Just before they reached Germany, near Flensburg, he asked Jackson where they were going.
Jackson had been instructed to tell no one anything about his mission. Yet Jan had guessed what his job was, and Mikkel had seemed to know he was carrying something. The secrets Jackson was supposed to protect no longer seemed secret. And too, Jan had saved his life over and over. Without Jan, there was no doubt he’d never have survived this long.
He didn’t see any reason to keep his destination a secret now. Especially considering he had no intention of losing Jan. The boy had no one else, and he was better able to deal with crises than Jackson was himself!
“We’re headed for Hamburg right now. There, we’ll catch a plane to Manchester. Then we drive to London, which is our ultimate goal.”
Jan digested this, then said, “You know, we’ve just barely escaped following your travel schedule so far. Twice from the people on the black boat, once from Mikkel. Do you think it’s wise to keep doing what you were told to do? I mean, wouldn’t it be safer to take another route, change plans? No one knows where we are right now. Get on that plane they’ve planned for you and they will know right where you are.”
“But this was all set up. It was decided this was the best way to do this!”
“And that’s worked really well so far, hasn’t it? I’m surprised we’re not both dead by now. We would be if you’d missed Mikkel’s head.”
Jackson looked at the road ahead and didn’t answer for a moment. Eventually he said, “And if it weren’t for you, too. Now you’re thinking ahead again, and I’d be an idiot not to pay attention.”
“Who’d want you not to deliver the paper you have?” Jan asked.
“I don’t like this conversation. You’re not supposed to know I have a paper.”
“Well, I do. I saw what you have when you stripped on the beach, and we talked about it before we dove off the boat.”
Jackson didn’t respond, just grimaced.
Jan shook his head. “And you’re supposed to be dead and the paper taken. So much for ‘supposed’. So, I’ll ask again: who would benefit from the paper not being delivered?”
Jackson wasn’t happy. But Jan had a point, and it was churlish of Jackson to remain silent. “I’d have to think about that, but right off, I can tell you I’m not sure.”
“Do you know what the paper’s all about?”
“A little.”
“Why? You’d think if you’re what Mikkel said you are, a courier, then all they’d want was for you to deliver something. What it was would be, what do you guys say—oh yeah, above your pay grade.”
“My handler gave me a vague idea what it was. I think it was to impress me how important it was. So I’d make sure to get it there.”
Jan took some time to think. Then, “It sounds to me like the last person who’d want to stop you would be the person you’re delivering it to. He’d have no need to stop you. He either wants it, or realizes once he has it, he can do whatever he wants with it and then go from there. He could say he didn’t get it no matter what you claim; he could burn it; he could use it for the purpose it was intended. He can’t be the one trying to stop you; no reason for him to. I think we should trust him. But no one else. So, who are you delivering it to?”
“That’s a secret.”