CAPE TOWN
They began watching the warehouse just before dawn on the third day.
With only two people, it would have been impossible to follow Gray away from the building. Kealey knew that their faces would too quickly become familiar, and security around the businessman would be heavily increased if they were spotted. He wanted the chance to isolate Gray if at all possible. The lost hours in the man’s schedule grated at Ryan, but he was reasonably satisfied with their coverage of the warehouse. It was secluded and quiet. Approaching vehicles could be heard long before they turned onto the narrow street running through the maze of industrial buildings that marked this forgotten district of the Cape.
The previous day had been well spent. The shops on the Strand had provided Ryan with better equipment than he could have hoped for. At a small sporting-goods store he had found a good set of Rigel 2350 night vision binoculars. These he purchased, along with two cushioned sleeping bag mats and a backpack. He also stopped at the local CNA grocery store to pick up a case of bottled water. For the other items that were needed, Ryan put in a call to Pretoria. From there, the request was forwarded to Langley and approval was given.
Just past three in the afternoon, as Ryan and Naomi were finishing lunch in awkward silence on the terrace, the delivery was made by diplomatic courier. The parcel, opened in the privacy of Ryan’s hotel room, contained the Tait Orca encrypted radios and earpieces that he had specifically requested.
It also contained a P22 Walther handgun complete with a 5" modified barrel, the extended muzzle threaded for the heavy Dalphon suppressor that lay next to the weapon.
Ryan didn’t need the radios or the pistol yet. They had parked the Nissan several hundred meters away and approached from the north, winding their way through a labyrinth of buildings before reaching the aluminum fire escape of the building opposite Gray’s. Naomi was shivering violently as they climbed the ladder and settled in on the roof, sliding their way forward to find the best view of the warehouse below. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when the silver Mercedes glided up next to the curb. Ryan checked his watch: 7:15
AM. Gray seemed to be fairly consistent in his habits.
They watched as the driver got out of the vehicle and walked around the car, looking up and down the street as he moved. He was a large white man with a shaved head, a neat goatee, and more fat than muscle. His poorly fitted suit stretched at the seams, and even at a distance, Kealey could spot the bulge beneath the man’s left armpit. The passenger door was opened and the second occupant of the vehicle stepped out onto the street.
It was Ryan’s first look at Stephen Gray. He was small and neat, deeply tanned, and clean-shaven, with a full head of closely trimmed silver hair; the man wore his wealth well. Ryan watched the driver walk several steps ahead of his charge, the right hand held beneath his jacket as his eyes searched the surrounding buildings. The front door to the warehouse was pulled open, and Ryan could see the big man pause inside the threshold as though disarming a security system. It was clear that the driver knew his job. It would be better if he was poorly trained, but Ryan knew that it could have been worse. He was relieved that Gray didn’t seem inclined to travel with a large en-tourage, as was the habit of so many other rich men.
Once the door closed behind the two men, the warehouse was still for hours. No movement could be seen through the small metal-framed windows at the front of the building. As the sun rose and beat down on the pebbled surface of the roof, Naomi began shifting her body impatiently and casting little glances in his direction. Finally, she sidled over next to him slowly.
“Can I talk?”
“Quietly,” he said.
“How long are we going to stay here?” Her body was very close to his.
“Until nightfall.”
Ryan heard her mumble something under her breath, and turned to look in her direction. She was drinking bottled water, and a few drops spilled down onto her chest. His eyes involuntarily followed the path of the drops, moving down from her face to the thin sheen of sweat on the graceful curve of her neck, and then over small, firm breasts straining against the damp cotton of her T-shirt. He caught himself and looked away quickly, forcing his attention back to the warehouse below. He angrily wiped sweat out of his eyes and drank from his own water bottle.
Naomi was watching him carefully. She edged a little closer, so that their legs were touching and her shoulder was pressed lightly against his. “Listen,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sorry about what happened the other night. I was way out of line, and I probably drank too much
. . . It didn’t mean anything, okay? It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Her tone was anything but apologetic. He eased his body away from hers slightly in turn. “It was as much my fault as yours. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” He looked up into her face, inches away from his own. “You’re right. It didn’t mean anything, and it’s not going anywhere. That’s all that has to be said.”
She held his gaze for a few seconds longer, as if measuring his sincerity, then slowly slid her mat back to its original position as Ryan turned back to focus on the building below.
Just after one in the afternoon, a battered white scooter screamed up to the entrance of the building. A young African male hopped off and kicked hard on the door. It was cracked open slightly. A large bag was thrust in through the opening, and the delivery boy received a fistful of rand in return. The money was stuffed down into his dirty jeans before the tires spun in the street and the scooter whined away.
The hours continued to pass as the vibrant sounds of the Malay Quarter drifted over the rooftops from the east. After the few words spoken earlier in the afternoon, Ryan cast two more quick glances in Naomi’s direction. Both times he could see clearly the anger and hurt in her face. He was beginning to regret capitulating so easily to Harper’s request that she be brought along.
Finally, the air began to cool as dusk settled over the weary city.
Ten minutes after the streetlights came on, the heavy door of the warehouse was pushed open. The big man emerged first, the right hand once again shielded from view inside his jacket. He surveyed the street, then turned and nodded as Gray followed him out, pausing only to set the alarm once more. Ryan checked his watch again. It was just after 8:00 PM. He waited for five minutes after the Mercedes had driven off before standing up on the rooftop, gratefully stretching sore muscles as he shook out a day’s worth of inactivity.
“Well, that was time bloody well spent,” Naomi said. Kicking at her water bottle, she watched as it bounced over the surface of the roof, scattering small rocks along the way. Ryan looked over as she leaned down to rub at a cramp in her thigh.
The sarcasm rubbed at his nerves, but he held his temper as he rolled up his mat and packed it neatly into the backpack. “You’re right. It was time well spent,” he said in a neutral tone. She threw him a withering look and he rose from his crouch to point down at the warehouse. “Now we have some idea of what we’re looking at.
Gray only has one guard, but he’s a professional. Did you watch him get out of the car? He kept the door open and the engine running while he checked the street, and his eyes didn’t stop moving the whole time they were in the open, which was about fifteen seconds.”
She looked a little less certain of herself as he went on, seemingly speaking more to himself than to her. “They’re careful about setting that alarm. We can’t get in at night and wait for them unless I ask Harper to send me somebody from Technical Services. Somehow, I don’t think he’ll jump at the idea.”
“So what do you think?” she asked.
He shook his head absently as he picked up her belongings and added them to the pack. “We’ll keep looking, for now. Time is a factor, but we need to do it right. We’ll get an opportunity sooner or later.”
Standing up, he began to walk over to the fire escape, Naomi trailing along dejectedly as she pondered days on end of lying in the heat looking at nothing more than bricks and mortar. She didn’t see the small smile that played over Ryan’s face as he swung his leg over the edge of the roof.
“You know something?” he said. “I think I’d like to see what’s on the other side of that building.”