Assignment- Adventure A SpyCo Collection 1-3

by Craig A. Hart

  “Not at all. I’m rather proud of you.”

  “I’m glad I’ve finally impressed you.”

  “You always impress me.” Burke flashed what he hoped was a charming smile.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Lyndsey tried to appear disgusted, but Burke thought he noticed a sparkle in her eye.

  Burke looked at his watch. “Andre said he could get us out any time we wanted to leave and I think it might be a good idea to disappear in case I was recognized.”

  “Let’s blow this joint.”

  “I'll find Andre and then we can—” He’d been turning to leave as he spoke, but stopped at the sight of a revolver pointed straight at his head.

  The man behind the gun was Kostas Kotsias.

  10

  Judging from the expression on Kotsias’ face, Burke could only assume the man was no longer the genial host he’d seemed earlier in the evening. The man’s broad face was set in stern lines, his eyes dark with anger.

  “I would not be in too much of a hurry, Mr. Burke.”

  “The name’s Remus, Mr. Kotsias. John Remus.”

  “You can stop the charade. I know who you are. James Reagan Burke, SpyCo agent. Is that not correct?”

  “You seem to have all the answers. I assume you found the two misfits I left upstairs?”

  “I did. And you should be glad I have great control over my personnel. They are most displeased with you.”

  “Well, I don’t believe there’s any need for further violence,” Burke said. “I was defending myself. Your men attacked me.”

  “You should not have been roaming about the house unguided. You must admit that looked suspicious. My men were doing their job.”

  “Why did you send your men to follow me in John F. Kennedy airport? I found that annoying.”

  “Did you?” Kotsias looked amused. “Our intention was not to irritate you, Mr. Burke, I can assure you.”

  “Oh, killing me was more the idea, eh?”

  “Let us not play word games.”

  A movement in Burke's peripheral vision captured his attention and he glanced in that direction. He looked just long enough to glimpse Andre moving up behind his uncle.

  “One thing I would like to know before I kill you,” Kotsias said, saying the word “kill” as casually as if he were offering them an hors d’oeuvre. “Is my nephew Andre involved in this? Or have you duped him into thinking you are who you say you are?”

  “Perhaps you should ask him. He’s standing right behind you.”

  Kotsias smiled indulgently. “You have read too many mystery novels, Mr. Burke. I would be embarrassed to fall for such a tired trick.”

  “Suit yourself.” Burke folded his hands behind his back.

  “And what about you, young lady?” Kotsias turned his attention to Lyndsey. “Are you a fake as well?”

  Lyndsey smiled. “The very fakest.”

  Kotsias’ finger tightened on the trigger. “I suppose that concludes my business. After I dispose of you, I will find Andre and have a talk with him, since it is obvious you two will not inform on him. I will be most disappointed to learn my nephew was involved with such scoundrels. He has always been my favorite. So long, friends. I assure you it will be quick and painless.”

  “Yes,” Burke replied, watching Andre move into position behind Kotsias and raise his arm for a blow. “And so will this.”

  Andre brought his fist down on the back of Kotsias’ neck. Without making a sound, the older man dropped like an empty sack.

  Burke grinned. “Just like the U.S. Marines. Nice timing. I was wondering if you would make it. Kotsias was becoming a little antsy.”

  “He always does before he kills someone,” Andre said.

  The import of the words was not lost on Burke. “You’re familiar with his methods?”

  “As a child, I witnessed several executions. It is one thing that turned me against my uncle.”

  Lyndsey interrupted them. “I’d love to continue talking about this, but I’m getting the distinct feeling it’s not safe around here.”

  They left the room and walked to the front door. The attendant smiled and wished them a good night. They returned the favor and, with Andre leading the way, soon arrived at the garage. Fortunately, the man stationed there recognized Kotsias’ nephew and believed their story, which stated his employer had given them permission to drive themselves home.

  “Talk about blowing our cover,” Burke griped, once they were on the road back to Athens. “I suggest we check-in at a different hotel tonight to buy us a little time. I don’t think it will take long for Kotsias to send his henchmen after us.”

  “Uncle Kotsias is a vengeful man. It will be more of a grudge match to him now,” Andre said. “I do not think you should even go back to the hotel.”

  “What about our stuff?” Lyndsey asked. “We can’t leave all of our equipment.”

  Burke nodded. “If we split up, we could move quickly. Lyndsey, you get us a room under an assumed name. Meanwhile, Andre and I will go to the Astor and grab the equipment.”

  After dropping Lyndsey off at a new hotel, Burke and Andre proceeded on to the Astor, where they gathered the equipment and luggage, and stuffed it into the VW. Burke tried to convince Andre to stay at the new hotel with Lyndsey and him, but he shrugged off the warnings.

  “I do not believe they know where I am staying. But I will keep the doors locked, all the same.”

  “Sleep with one eye open,” Burke advised.

  After Andre left, Burke went back upstairs before checking out and looked over the rooms to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He was about leave when his room telephone rang. He debated for five rings before deciding to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  The voice that answered was unfamiliar and accented. “Mr. Burke? Mr. James Reagan Burke?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  The voice ignored the question. “I have a deal for you, Mr. Burke. Are you interested?”

  “Should I be?”

  “I think so. It could prove beneficial to both of us.”

  Burke sat on the bed facing the door and palmed his USP, pointing it at the door. This might be a trick to keep him in the room while some of Kotsias’ men prepared to take him. However, it might be the break they needed and he couldn’t afford to take the chance of losing it.

  “Let’s hear it,” he said.

  “We have the briefcase.”

  “Briefcase?”

  “Please do not play ignorant, Mr. Burke. We know all about you and why you are in Athens. We know you want the briefcase. We have it and are prepared to hand it over to you.”

  “How generous. What’s the catch?”

  The man chuckled. “You Americans get right to the point, don’t you? The catch, as you so indelicately phrased it, is this. We give you the briefcase and in return you kill J. Carlton Moore.”

  “I beg your pardon? Kill who?”

  “Your boss, J. Carlton Moore. Think before you answer, Mr. Burke. This briefcase contains information vital to world security. What is the life of one man compared with that?”

  “Suppose I agreed to these terms. What assurance would you have I would follow through?”

  “We will wait for news of Moore’s demise. If we do not hear of it within two weeks of our agreement, our agents have instructions to kill you instead.”

  “And if I refuse to play ball?”

  “You will be killed. Along with your two partners, Andre Kotsias and Miss Archer.”

  “Sounds like a deal I can’t refuse.”

  “A wise decision. We will meet at the Parthenon at 11:30. And I wouldn’t be late. There are other groups in this city desirous to have the briefcase. It is in high demand.”

  11

  Arriving at the new hotel, Burke hauled the pile of luggage up the stairs to the room number Lyndsey had sent him. She was waiting for him at the door.

  “You made it,” she said, when she saw him stagger around the corner
.

  “A brilliant observation,” Burke gasped. “Step aside, this stuff weighs a ton.” He dragged himself into the room and dropped everything in the middle of the floor. “You couldn’t get a room on the first floor, could you?”

  “The view was better from up here,” Lyndsey said. “Is Andre coming?”

  Burke shook his head. “He decided to stay where he was for the night. I tried to convince him to come over here, but he wouldn’t do it. We—”

  Burke’s satellite phone interrupted his words.

  “Tiger?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “How are things progressing?”

  “No sign of the briefcase.”

  “I have an idea that situation may be remedied before long.”

  “Sir?”

  “We received confirmation the briefcase has left the United States and we think it’s headed your way. It looks as if I was right in my assessment. It slipped through our fingers here. We need you to apprehend it when it gets to Athens, which will be tomorrow morning.”

  “We’ll do our best, Chief.”

  “And one more thing, Tiger. You haven’t been prompt with your reports and neither has Venus. I suggest you work on that.”

  As usual, the call ended abruptly. Burke dropped the phone onto the bed. Lyndsey looked at him.

  “Well?”

  “Moore thinks the briefcase is on its way right now.”

  “So, it wasn’t here before?”

  “Apparently not.” Burke walked to the room window and was gratified to learn that from their floor and this side of the hotel, he had a good view of the Acropolis. He turned back to Lyndsey. “Forget what I said about the floor you picked. I think this one will work fine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Burke relayed the strange call to her.

  “You agreed to this?” Lyndsey’s eyes were wide. “I assume you have some alternative plan.”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “Well, I have the main part of it worked out.”

  “And that is?”

  “Hand me that black box over there, would you?”

  Lyndsey did so and Burke opened it, revealing several pieces of equipment. He began to assemble the contents.

  Lyndsey watched him work. “A sniper rifle?”

  “Hand me that small leather case.”

  “Burke, what do you have in mind?”

  “I’m going decoy hunting.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to shoot your contact.”

  “Lyndsey, I’m going to shoot my contact.”

  “But the Parthenon is quite a distance from here. I didn’t know you were an expert marksman.”

  “I can hold my own. Especially when I have this.” Burke reached into the leather case Lyndsey had given him and pulled out a night vision scope and a silencer. “Very convenient things to have around. I must remember to commend Moore on his preparedness when we return.”

  “If we return.”

  “Let’s not give ourselves over to pessimism. Who said, ‘It ain’t over till it’s over’? Winston Churchill?”

  “Yogi Berra.”

  “Same thing. What time is it?”

  Lyndsey consulted her watch. “Ten minutes until eleven. What are you going to do if that scope isn’t zeroed in?”

  “Miss, obviously.” Burke walked to the window, opened it, and stuck the rifle out. Looking through the scope, he made a few adjustments and chuckled. “I can see the inscriptions. How about turning off the lights and locking the door? I don’t want to be seen from the street and I don’t want someone walking in on me while I’m sighting down a sniper rifle at one of the world’s most famous structures. That would be very hard to explain.”

  “Very. Are you expecting an ambush? Is that why you aren’t going to the Parthenon? Or are you afraid of the dark?”

  “Both. My unknown caller made some interesting statements. First, he said the briefcase was here in Athens. I know from Moore it just left the United States.”

  “Moore could be wrong,” Lyndsey pointed out.

  “He could be, but I doubt it. He hasn’t been yet. Besides, there’s another thing that causes me to doubt the word of the informer. If they want Moore killed so badly why not do it themselves? Considering the knowledge they seem to have of the organization, it wouldn’t be too difficult. It isn’t as if he moves around a lot like I do.”

  “You think they set this up to kill you?”

  “As much as it pains me to admit anyone might be sufficiently immune to my charms to wish me harm, yes.” Burke placed the rifle back on the windowsill. “What time is it now?”

  “You have a watch, check the time yourself."

  “I was trying to make you a part of the action.” Burke sighted through the scope and scanned along the Acropolis. “Ah, it looks as if they have arrived early. And what do you know—the guy isn’t alone. He has three henchmen who are at this moment concealing themselves behind some pillars.”

  “Do you recognize any of them?”

  “I’ve never seen the henchmen. The guy with the briefcase is the dark-skinned chap from the airplane and the suspected sniper.”

  Burke waited. The little man stood still for a moment, then walked to a slab of rock and sat down to wait. Once he was sure his target wouldn't make any sudden moves, Burke sighted in with the scope and clicked off the safety.

  He would only have one shot.

  Squinting one eye, he took in the trigger slack. His target did not twitch. There was a pop as Burke squeezed the trigger and through the scope, he saw the little man throw himself aside as a small rock outcropping by his head exploded into fragments as the bullet smashed into it. The man leaped to his feet, waving to his confederates and shouting. Then all four ran, soon hidden by the hillside. Burke stood back. Closing the window, he began to disassemble the rifle.

  “Oh, well,” Burke said finally. “At least I know my instincts were right.”

  “How’s that?”

  “They all ran off, but they left the briefcase behind in the confusion. They wouldn’t have done that if it had been the genuine article.” He finished putting away the rifle and grabbed his bags from the pile on the floor. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow told me it’s going to a long day. What’s my room number?”

  Lyndsey looked uncomfortable.

  Burke frowned, his patience at a low ebb. “What, did you forget?”

  “They only had one open room.”

  Burke sighed and dropped his bags onto the floor. “And I suppose you get the bed?”

  Lyndsey shrugged. “It’s pretty large. It would probably fit two.”

  12

  Burke knocked on Andre’s door and waited. No response. No call to come in, no heavy footsteps, no rattling of the door chain and click of the deadbolt. Nothing. He knocked again. And again, nothing. He tried the handle; it turned easily. He pushed the door open and peered inside. Lyndsey was right behind him and followed him into the room.

  Andre was still in bed—but he wasn’t sleeping. Nobody could lose that much blood and still be alive. Burke closed his eyes for moment from the horrible spectacle and then backed out of the room.

  “There’s nothing we can do for him now,” he said. “And there’s no way we could cover that up. We’ll leave this one for the local authorities to grapple with.”

  “Kotsias?”

  “That would be my guess. He didn’t seem too pleased to think his beloved nephew was involved with us hoodlums.”

  “It’s horrible to think about doing this to your own nephew.”

  “Kotsias is a shrewd, cold operator; not one I relish crossing.”

  They spoke little on the way back the hotel. They sat together in Lyndsey’s room, each alone in their thoughts, until Lyndsey spoke up.

  “What are we going to do about the briefcase? It’s supposed to be arriving today.”

  “I thought about staking out the airport, but we have no idea which plane it�
��s coming in on, or even which airport. I’m guessing that once the briefcase enters the country it will go straight to good old Uncle K.” Burke took up his satellite phone. “I suppose I should call Moore and let him know what’s happened. He will not be pleased.”

  The conversation with Moore went about as well as expected. He never took news concerning the death of one of his agents graciously. In fact, he was so rabidly protective of them it had become an inside joke. He could push his agents around as much as he liked, but if anyone else dared lay a hand on them, doomsday was around the corner. He ended the conversation by ordering Burke to “bring the killers to justice.”

  “Told you,” Burke said, replacing the phone. “The old man is out for blood.”

  “What all did he have to say? You talked for several minutes.”

  “Minus the creative profanity, the conversation pretty much consisted of ‘Hello,’ ‘What?’ and ‘Kill!’ But he also confirmed my suspicion Scorpion has the briefcase. And while that doesn’t solve a lot, it makes me feel a little better about my plan.”

  “And what plan is this?”

  “A daring plan I may have to get blitzed to carry out.”

  “You’ve done stupid things before.”

  “Not like this. It’s worse than dangerous. And the bad part is I will need your help.”

  For someone who had been informed they were going to take part in a life-threatening mission, Lyndsey seemed delighted. “When are you planning on carrying out this plan?”

  “We’ll need the cover of darkness, so we’ll do it tonight.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  “Make sure your insurance premiums are paid up.”

  13

  In ancient times, the Greeks considered Delfoí, with its high cliffs and valleys of olive trees, to be the center of the world. Standing at the base of a rather imposing cliff and looking up at the lights of Kostas Kotsias’ mansion above, Burke had the same feeling. He knew this could be his last mission and the knowledge that death could so easily introduce itself made the smaller things seem very important. The air seemed sweeter than usual and he reveled in the night sounds.