Free End Game by David Hagberg Page A

only real option, he decided, was finesse.
    When the site came up he wrote: When? Where? Why?
    It took nearly two minutes for the reply to come. You’re a difficult man to find, Mr. C.
    Who wants to find me?
    The man getting out of the taxi behind you this afternoon.
    I’m a fugitive. Is that why he came?
    You were a suspect until this afternoon.
    Then what does he want?
    Answers.
    Coffin looked up as a police car cruised slowly past. The cop behind the wheel glanced over indifferently for just an instant, but he didn’t linger.
    What’s the question?
    Why the murders? Why the two from Alpha Seven?
    This is a hackable connection, Coffin wrote back, and he was about to power down and get away when the reply came.
    No, it’s not.
    Still Coffin hesitated, his finger on the power off button.
    Backscatter encryption in both directions.
    Who are you?
    Otto Rencke. I’m in my third-floor office at the OHB. You may have heard of me, Mr. Coffin; we’ve heard of you. We know you are probably still in Athens, and we know that for the past five months, you have been in hiding. We would like to know why.
    The same police car cruised past, and Coffin was about to get up and find the back door, but the cop never looked over.
    Will the police be looking for me?
    Do you think the killer will come after you?
    It’s possible, but it depends on a set of circumstances.
    What circumstances?
    The translation of the last Kryptos tablet, Coffin wrote.
    Could be something new. It needs to be found and recognized for what it is. Evidently, it hasn’t been yet.
    Someone must think so.
    Yes.
    An attractive woman came around the corner and stopped at his table. “May I join you, Mr. Coffin?” she said.
    Her name is Pete Boylan, the message appeared on his screen. She is a CIA case officer and came with Kirk McGarvey to find you. Help us, and we’ll help you.
    Coffin’s iPad powered down by itself, and he managed a smile. Like McGarvey, Otto Rencke was a legend in the CIA. A wizard. “Would you like a coffee?”
    She sat down. “Actually, Mr. McGarvey would like to talk to you.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œWe have a safe house not far from here.”
    â€œAn NIS safe house?”
    â€œYes, they’re cooperating.”
    â€œI’m armed.”
    â€œYes, we know this.”
    â€œAm I wanted by the police?”
    Pete laughed softly. “On a number of counts, the least of which is escaping from prison.”
    â€œThe doctor had a heart attack. I was trying to save his life. Let’s just get that off the table before I agree to anything.”
    â€œMost likely you killed him, but the police aren’t all that concerned. Dr. Lampros was not a doctor; in fact, he himself was a murderer. Killed a female prisoner last night and made it look like she hung herself. Apparently, she wasn’t his first.”

 
    THIRTEEN
    Coffin followed Pete around the corner, where the same old man who’d been with her and McGarvey outside the prison this afternoon was waiting by a battered Volvo station wagon that was painted green.
    â€œYou took a pistol from your house, and when we searched your hotel room a few minutes ago, it wasn’t there,” Moshonas said. “Give it to me, Mr. Coffin.”
    â€œI think he’ll feel safer for the moment with it, Detective,” Pete said.
    â€œActually, it’s Special Agent Moshonas. I work for the NIS.”
    â€œYes, we know. But I don’t think Mr. Coffin will shoot us.”
    â€œHe murdered Dr. Lampros.”
    â€œAlmost certainly, but we’ve come here to save Mr. Coffin’s life. And I think he understands that in order for us to do our job, he needs to do his. One hand washes the other.”
    Moshonas muttered something but then got in behind the wheel, Pete in front and Coffin in the back, and they headed away from the Acropolis and southwest for the short drive out of the city to the