Even so, he called again, trying to think of something witty to say about the North Star and leaving a message for her to get back to him.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. After all, he had told her the North Star would lead him to her. Two hours later, he called her again. This time, a man answered with something that sounded like “Yes sas.”
“Is Remi there?”
“No. Who is this?”
“I’m a friend of hers. From California. She called me—”
“You heard from her? When?”
The urgency in his voice worried Sam. “Not directly. She left a strange message on my phone. I wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”
There was a long pause, then, “I wish I knew. Dimitris is with her. We found their boat but not them.” At least that’s what it sounded like. The man’s accent was so thick, Sam wasn’t quite sure.
“To whom am I speaking?”
“Nikos Papadopoulos. Dimitris is my son. You say Remi called you? What did she say?”
“I don’t think she was talking to me. If that was your son with her, he said something about getting onto a boat. She asked if they wanted money.”
There was a muffled sound as though Nikos was moving the phone, then a hurried conversation in Greek with someone else. A moment later, “Thank you. I’ll inform the police. I’ll call you once I hear something.”
“Something wrong?” Blake asked once Sam disconnected.
“It’s looking that way.” He stared at the phone, his mind spinning with possibilities, all of them bad.
“She’s an American citizen. Won’t the FBI get involved?”
“Maybe.” While he assumed that the Greek authorities would notify the U.S. that a citizen had been kidnapped, thereby triggering an investigation by the FBI, he couldn’t be certain. He did, however, know someone who would know—his friend Rubin Haywood, a CIA agent—and he immediately called him.
They’d met almost seven years ago at Camp Peary, during covert operative training bootcamp. Sam was there as part of an experimental program as a DARPA engineer. DARPA’s belief was that it was in their best interest to give their top engineers the same real-world, hands-on training that the CIA agents received, which would allow them to design even better technology. As a result, Sam was trained in everything from hand-to-hand combat to bypassing complex alarm systems. While the training had been intense—and definitely worthwhile in its application to designing high-tech gadgets for the various national security agencies—after he left DARPA for civilian life, Sam doubted it was anything that he’d ever personally use.
He was beginning to rethink that with each passing ring of the phone.
Rube finally answered. “Tired of California already?”
“I need your help.” Sam told him about the call from Remi’s phone and then his conversation with Nikos.
“Forward that voice mail to me. I’ll get someone to translate it.”
“Thanks.”
“And Sam? I know you can handle yourself out there, but officially, I’m telling you to stay out of Greece and let the government do its job. It’s possible there’s a logical explanation. Wait to hear what’s going on.”
“Unofficially?”
“Good luck and safe travels.”
The moment Sam disconnected, he opened his laptop, searching for airline tickets.
Blake leaned over, looking at Sam’s monitor, whistling at the price of the last-minute one-way ticket. He shook his head. “That’s a lot of money for a woman you just met.”
“I didn’t just meet her.”
“Oh, okay. Like, two whole weeks ago.”
“A lifetime.”