All at once Jim Oliver felt his career slipping away. He’d hung everything on his promise of pulling Walt Jenkins out of retirement and delivering Garth Montgomery. The operation had gone better than predicted, and was a greater triumph than what he’d sold to his superiors. Claire Montgomery had, in the end, provided the critical information needed on her father’s whereabouts, and was the reason a warrant had been secured so quickly. But now, here he stood in an empty cabin in the mountains—either completely incorrect about what he thought was inside, or just a moment too late. He tried not to allow the other possibility into his thoughts—that he’d been played. He didn’t dwell on it, because whichever situation was unfolding, it spelled the end to his career.
“Bathroom!” one of the agents yelled.
Jim Oliver blinked his eyes and came back to the present. He raised his Glock and moved through the front room, past his agents who were poised and ready for action, muzzles pointed at the closed bathroom door. Audible now in the hushed interior of the cabin was the sound of pressurized water whining through the pipes. Jim Oliver took his position outside the bathroom, his back flat against the wall. He nodded and the battering ram agents appeared. In the silence just prior to the sound of splintering wood, a showerhead could be heard spitting water.
CHAPTER 70
New Orleans, LA Sunday, July 11, 2021
THE MAJESTY OF ONE OF THE WORLD’S LARGEST CRUISE SHIPS WAS the draw, and the brochures laid out magnificent photos of the spacious deck, massive swimming pool, and grand ballrooms. The tiny living quarters, where passengers slept after a full day out and about, didn’t get much attention in the RICL brochure. Cabin 3318 was small and cramped. After an hour of bumping into each other, Meghan Cobb laid down some ground rules. A line of pillows separated the bed into two halves. Their suitcases were stored underneath. He sat in a chair crammed in the corner. Meghan took a spot on her side of the bed.
“Thanks for doing this,” he said. “However it is you got roped into it.”
“I owed someone a favor,” Meghan said.
They ran through the plan and what they hoped to accomplish during the next couple of days.
“So, you’re not allowed to leave this cabin?” Meghan asked.
“It would be best for me not to. I’ll walk the halls each day when housekeeping comes to clean, but I’ll stay out of sight as much as possible. You, on the other hand, should get out and about. Make yourself seen.”
Meghan nodded. “I plan to at least get a hell of a tan out of this deal.”
“I’ll be out of your hair in two days. Then, you’ll have the cabin to yourself.”
“Do you think this will work?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m trusting the person who set it up.”
“Your name’s not really Aaron, is it?”
“No.”
“What should I call you then?”
There was a short pause before he answered.
“Aaron,” he said. “It’s probably best for you to just call me Aaron.”
CHAPTER 71
Lake Placid, NY Sunday, July 11, 2021
THE BATHROOM DOOR DISINTEGRATED UNDER THE WEIGHT OF THE battering ram, and agents poured into the room. Steam wafted from the door frame and fogged their face shields, which they quickly lifted out of the way.
“Federal agents!” they shouted. “Put your hands in the air. Hands in the air!”
Oliver caught glimpses through the bodies and the steam as he stepped into the room. A man stood naked in the shower. He did not put up a fight, or any resistance at all. He simply raised his hands in a frightened and defeated manner. Two agents manhandled the naked figure out of the shower and forced him to the ground, where they cuffed his hands behind his back.
“Clear,” another agent yelled before shutting off the shower.
The agents took the man by the elbows and lifted him to his feet. Naked and dripping wet, he looked pathetic. It would have been appropriate, since he put up no resistance, to offer the man a towel to cover himself. But Jim Oliver had no intention of lessening this man’s humiliation.
Oliver walked up to the fugitive he had been hunting for years. Even with sopping wet hair clinging to his ears, Oliver recognized the Thief of Manhattan.
“Garth Montgomery,” Oliver said, “I want you to know two things. First, you’re under arrest. And second, your daughter is the reason we found you.”
CHAPTER 72
Montego Bay, Jamaica Tuesday, July 13, 2021
THE EMERALD LADY MADE LANDFALL JUST AFTER TWELVE NOON ON THE third day of the cruise. Aaron Holland watched from the balcony of the second deck as hordes of passengers bottlenecked the exits to storm the island’s tourist traps, eager to buy cheap jewelry and handbags and knickknacks for their grandchildren. He waited patiently for the crowds to thin, then walked back to Cabin 3318. Meghan Cobb sat on the bed.
“Well,” he said, “I guess this is it.”
“Will you be okay?”
He shrugged. “I’ve made it this far. Thanks for everything. I don’t know how you got involved in all this, but I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
“What if someone asks about you? The staff or crew?”
“They won’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Meghan nodded. There was nothing left to say. “Good luck.”
He zipped his suitcase and left the cabin. He walked down the long hallway and entered the elevator that deposited him on the main level. When he made it to the exit, he registered with the cruise ship employee by handing over his passport. It was scanned and logged into the ship’s databank—a careful record of every passenger who disembarked from the ship. This ensured that the exact number of passengers made it safely back onboard before The Emerald Lady pulled out of port. It was here that another opportunity for failure presented itself. If Claire were not able to pull this off, then a hunt for Aaron Holland would ensue later today. Montego Bay would be put on alert. The Jamaican authorities would be called, and when they failed to locate the missing American, by protocol The Emerald Lady would contact the US authorities. A progression through the chain of agencies would follow, starting at the US consulate in the Caribbean and eventually involving the Department of State. The international branch of the FBI would eventually get involved.
Come on, Claire, he thought as he walked down the stairs and stepped onto the dock. Work your magic.
Without looking back, he walked along the pier until he stepped foot onto the mainland of Jamaica. He had studied the map and knew the route by heart. Forgoing the taxis and buses, he chose to cover the three miles into town on foot. It was hot and humid and by the time he reached Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville restaurant he was sweating through his shirt. At the bar, he ordered a Red Stripe and drank greedily.
As was the plan, he blended in with the other tourists. After he cooled down, he paid his bill with cash and headed into the market where he haggled with street vendors for fifteen minutes. When he was sufficiently comfortable, he disengaged from the crowd and crossed the main thoroughfare until he found Hobbs Avenue. He walked for a quarter of a mile, as instructed, with his small suitcase doing its best to keep up behind him. It contained all his possessions in the world. His entire existence reduced to a single suitcase.