“Couldn’t it just be a failure with the phone company?”
“No, I don’t think so. Their system is indicating everything is fine, but there are no signals at all in just this one area.” There was a pause. “Wait a minute, things just came back online. Just a sec.”
Milton breathed a sigh of relief as the over anxious students were apparently about to be proven wrong.
“Okay, I’ve got cellular activity in the area again, but the professors’ phones are still offline.”
“Maybe they’re dead? Low batteries?”
“Both of them? I doubt that.”
Milton agreed. “Could they be in the mine?”
“No, I’m picking up a cluster of signals that suggest they’re coming from a repeater. Do you have a number for anyone who should be with them?”
Milton stood. “I do. I have the number for their contact there, but I’ll have to look it up. I’ll call you back.” He turned to Sandra then stared at his waning member. “Funs over, big guy.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, probably nothing, just some overactive imaginations, but I need to make a call.” He snapped the towel at her caboose. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”
“Our daughter will be home at any minute.”
“At which time you will set her up in front of the TV with a snack and a drink, and you and I can squeeze in a few minutes of adult playtime.”
She gave him a look. “What’s gotten into you today?”
“I think the better question is what’s going to be getting—”
She held up a finger, cutting him off while laughing. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, mister.”
He grinned. “Save the dirty talk for the bedroom?”
“Exactly.” She smiled. “Or the back seat of the car.”
His eyes widened. “Ooh, it’s been awhile since we’ve done it there!”
The door downstairs opened, the alarm chiming.
“Mommy! Daddy! I’m home!”
Sandra turned toward the hallway. “Just a second, dear!” She gave junior a squeeze. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Milton wrapped the towel around himself, then headed for his office with a smile of anticipation. He called the number for Professor Lisowski, and it rang several times before going to voicemail. He frowned, trying it again, sighing in relief as this time it was answered on the third ring.
“Halo?”
“Hi, can I talk to Aleksandra Lisowski? This is—“
“Oh, thank God! We thought the phones weren’t working! Aleksandra has been shot, and we’re trapped! We need help!”
28
Inselhotel
Potsdam, Germany
“You were right to be concerned.”
Tommy gulped at Dean Milton’s statement, Mai’s eyes widening beside him as they both listened on speaker. “We were?”
“Yes, something has happened. According to someone I just talked to, they’ve all been trapped inside the mine since a group of armed men stole the Amber Room crates. They kidnapped Jim and Laura, then blew the mine entrance. And they shot and wounded their Polish contact, Professor Lisowski.”
Mai gasped. “Oh my God! What are we going to do?”
“I’ve reached out to the university where Aleksandra works, but there’s no answer. I’ve left messages, but these people are running out of air and need help.”
Tommy stared at the screen of his laptop. “I’m showing cellphone signals outside.”
“If only we had one of their phone numbers, we could call them.”
Tommy chuckled. “Who needs numbers? I can connect to them right now.”
“You can?”
“Sure, all I need to do is—”
“I don’t need a technical explanation, I just need results. Can you patch me through to someone?”
Mai pressed against him, a smile on her face, and he stared into her eyes for a moment, then sighed. “Just a second.” He tapped away at his keyboard, and a phone rang, something in Polish said. “Go ahead, Dean.”
“Hello? Do you speak English?”
“Yes, some,” was the heavily accented reply.
“Good! My name is Greg Milton. I am the Dean of St. Paul’s University in Maryland, in the United States. Who am I speaking to?”
“This is Officer Jelen of the Polish Police.”
“Oh, thank God, a police officer! Listen, I just got off the phone with a group of people who are trapped inside an old mine that I believe you are standing outside of—”
“Wait. How did you get this number?”
“That’s not important. There is a woman inside who has been shot, and the others are running out of air. If you don’t start a rescue operation immediately, they will all suffocate to death.”
“Give me your number, and the number you spoke to inside.”
Milton quickly relayed the numbers.
“Very good. I will call you back shortly.”
The call ended, and Tommy leaned closer to the phone. “What do we do now, sir?”
“Wait.”
29
South of Kwidzyn (formerly Marienwerder), Poland
Jelen ended the call from the American and pointed at a nearby backhoe while turning to Stefan. “You said you were a heavy equipment operator?”
Stefan nodded.
“Then start digging! We might have people trapped inside!”
Stefan’s eyes bulged. “Yes, sir!” He sprinted for the backhoe as Jelen relayed the conversation he had just had to his partner while dialing the number he had received for a phone inside.
Someone answered.
“Hello, this is Officer Jelen. Who am I speaking to?”
“Daniel Marek! Please help us! We’re trapped inside!”
Jelen snapped his fingers at Krakowski, who immediately dialed his phone, the situation about to escalate far beyond a potential domestic violence call. His heart hammered as he realized this was the biggest case of his career.
And he was about to have it taken away.
He refocused on the panicked victim on the other end of the line.
“Tell me everything, from the beginning.”
30
Gruber Residence
Berlin, Nazi Germany
January 31, 1945
“Detective Inspector Vogel, I can honestly say that when I woke up this morning, I never would have guessed that you would be honoring me with a visit.”
Vogel forced a smile as the portly man extended a swollen hand, a large gold ring with a diamond-encrusted swastika making its presence felt as the hand was shaken. “Nor I, I assure you.”
“Are you here in an official capacity?” Gruber leaned over in his chair, staring past Vogel. “I see you’ve come alone.”
Vogel took a chair in front of Gruber’s ornate desk. “I’m alone, and I’m not here officially.”
Gruber smiled. “My favorite kind of visit from a Kriminalpolizei officer.” He flicked a hand at one of his men standing behind Vogel at the door. “Cigars and cognac for our guest.”
Vogel decided it best not to refuse. “Thank you, you are most generous.”
“To my friends.”
Vogel knew what that meant. It meant Gruber knew why he was here. Not the specifics, just that a favor was about to be asked, and something would be expected in return.
Gruber lit his cigar, dipping the other end in the cognac. “What is it I can do for you, my friend?”
Vogel puffed on his cigar as Gruber’s henchman bent over with the match, patiently waiting for Vogel to signal success. Vogel leaned back, then took a sip of the cognac, the bite sweet, an almost forgotten experience, most alcohol today little better than furniture polish. “I need a favor.”
“I suspected as much. What is it?”
“I need two women smuggled out of Berlin, reunited with their families, then both families taken someplace safe to wait out the war.”
Gruber chuckled, then much to Vogel�
�s horror, the chuckle turned into outright laughter, his men joining in. “Is that all?”
Vogel nodded, knowing full well it was a rhetorical question. “Yes.”
Gruber leaned forward, jabbing the air between them with his cigar. “You want me, as a favor, to get two women out of the city, reunite them with their families, then find some safe haven for both to ride out the war.”
“Yes. And they’re both under surveillance by the Gestapo.”
Gruber tossed his head back, roaring with laughter again. “Oh, God, this just keeps getting better.” He calmed himself, taking a sip of his cognac, leaving his face to linger in the snifter. He swallowed then sighed, finally staring at Vogel. “Why?”
“Because they’re innocent, and don’t deserve to die.”
Gruber pursed his lips. “Why should they die?”
“Because their husbands were mixed up in something. What, I don’t know, but something that wasn’t their fault, and now they’re dead. Their wives don’t deserve the same fate.”
Gruber sighed. “And what’s in it for me?”
“I’ll tip you off to any raids that might be planned for your operation.”
Gruber dismissed the offer with the bat of a hand. “I’ve got people for that. And besides, you know who my father is.”
Vogel’s mind raced. Gruber was right. His offer was worthless. He eyed the Nazi Party pin on Gruber’s jacket when an idea came to him. “The war is almost over.”
“Yes.”
“And what do you think will happen when it is?”
Gruber shrugged. “I’ve hidden my assets around the country. I’ll ride out the rough patch, then when things settle down, enjoy my spoils.”
“A good plan in theory. But what do you really think is going to happen?”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”
Vogel leaned forward, pointing at the pin with his cigar. “What do you think the Allies are going to do to those who were Party members?”
Gruber glanced at the pin, then chewed at his lip. “What do you think they’re going to do?”
“I get to hear the reports that you don’t, that the public doesn’t. The Allies are already planning on trials. They’ve already got a plan for when Germany falls. They are going to track down every single Nazi they can, and put him on trial. And you know what that means.”
Gruber paled slightly. “What?”
“The noose.”
Gruber gulped, staring at Vogel, his eyes slightly wider than moments ago. “Okay, so you seem to know my future. How does helping you today, save me from that fate?”
“When the time comes, I’ll testify that yes you were a human smuggler, a piece of shit in many police officers’ books, but in fact, you were doing your part to help save the lives of those the Reich deemed enemies. Thanks to your unselfish efforts, hundreds of Jews and traitors alike were saved from certain death.”
A smile slowly spread on Gruber’s face. “You would do this for me?”
Vogel shook his head. “No. I’d do it for these two innocent widows.”
Gruber rose, extending a hand. “We have a deal.”
31
Fairfax Towers
Falls Church, Virginia
Present Day
Oh God, I love it when she comes back from assignment!
They hadn’t even made it up to their apartment. In fact, they hadn’t even made it out of the car. When Chris Leroux had opened up the rear door to get his girlfriend’s luggage, Sherrie White had shoved him into the back seat and jumped him, closing the door behind her. The windows were now fogged up, and the shocks had been receiving a workout for the past ten minutes as the love of his life burned off the pent up energy she always returned with after an op.
She was CIA. An agent like his best friend Dylan Kane, though he was a Special Agent.
But none of that mattered right now, as he held on for dear life as her 8-seconds style of riding passed the ten-minute mark, and he fought to outlast her. She was particularly insatiable tonight, and fortunately for them, their assigned parking spot under their apartment building was fairly secluded, though not completely, and that distraction was helping him hold out a little longer, thinking about baseball not necessary tonight.
As he sensed her impending release, he gripped her shoulders as they both strove for that simultaneous climax they enjoyed so much. They were seconds away, and it would be so good—
His phone vibrated from somewhere underneath him.
“Oh God, don’t you dare answer that!”
“I-I won’t.”
But her moans each time the vibrations traveled through him and into her suggested she had an entirely different reason for him not answering.
She tipped.
And he raced to catch up as she shook all over, her moans probably reaching the stairwell.
Then she collapsed as his phone indicated a voicemail had been left, his final efforts leaving him gasping in exquisite release as he held the love of his life tight, and thanking all that was holy for bringing the two of them together.
He was a changed man, and it was all because of her. Shy, awkward, with no ambition, she had turned him into a much less self-conscious man, hints of confidence making their presence known, and he was now an analyst supervisor at the CIA. His life, as far as he was concerned, was near perfect, and it was all thanks to Sherrie White.
She sat up and ground her hips into him.
“Don’t you dare start again. Let’s get dressed and upstairs before someone finds us.”
Sherrie gave a pout but swung off him, eliciting a final groan from both of them. He pulled his pants up and awkwardly zipped them as she dressed. She smiled at him. “Ready?”
“I hope so.”
Sherrie opened the door and stepped out, straightening her blouse as he stumbled out beside her, tucking his shirt into his pants.
Someone started to clap behind them, and they both spun toward the intruder.
“Encore! Encore!”
Leroux flushed. “Dylan! What the hell? How long were you there?”
“Long enough to get a little worked up myself.”
Leroux burned even hotter, though Sherrie seemed unaffected as she adjusted her bra. He had to remember sometimes that she had been trained by the CIA to handle situations like this, and didn’t embarrass easily. In fact, he was pretty certain he had never seen her even flustered.
“So, umm, what are you doing here?”
“Ahhh, I live here now, remember?”
Leroux gave him a look. “I know that. I mean, what are you doing here, in the parking garage, in the middle of the night?”
Kane grinned. “Watching my best friend get it on!”
Leroux shook his head, but smiled.
Best friend.
He loved that he actually had one. Life had been tough when he was young, especially during high school. Kane had been the jock, and he the geek, fate bringing them together, Kane providing his tutor a brief reprieve from the bullying he had suffered for years. They were unlikely friends, and he was sure if it weren’t for their accidental encounter at Langley, where they discovered they both worked for the spy agency, he never would have seen him again.
He was thankful he had, and they were now great friends. Great friends who rarely saw each other. Special Agent Dylan Kane was one of the agency’s top operators, the real world’s James Bond.
Just American, and a little rougher around the edges.
Leroux led them toward the elevator, Kane still grinning at him. His buddy offered up a fist bump, and Leroux glanced at Sherrie.
“Oh, go ahead, you know you want to.”
He grinned and bumped Kane’s fist.
“My man! If only those bastards in high school could see you now!”
Leroux’s chest ached at the thought of those years, and Sherrie’s hand gripped his, squeezing it tight as if she knew the pain he was feeling.
If only.
“D
id you check your messages?” she asked, and Leroux cursed, fishing his phone out of his pocket as they boarded the elevator.
“Forgot.”
Sherrie turned to Kane as he pressed the floors for their apartments. “Are you in town for long? Last night Fang said she didn’t know when you were due back.”
“Just a couple of days. I surprised her last night when she got back from your place.” His tone softened with the mention of his girlfriend, Lee Fang, an ex-Chinese Special Forces exile in hiding from her government, and the first woman Kane had ever loved. “Listen, thanks again to both of you for helping her out. She’s been so much happier since we moved into the building.”
Sherrie smiled. “It’s been our pleasure. Fang is wonderful. And funny too!”
Leroux tuned out of the conversation as he listened to the voicemail left by one of his analysts, Randy Child. He frowned, waving the phone at the others. “Sorry, I’ve gotta take this.” He dialed the office, Child answering.
“Hi, sir, sorry to bother you at this hour, but I’ve got something here I figured you’d want to know about.”
“What is it?”
“Well, our intrepid professors are at it again.”
“Acton and Palmer?” This silenced the conversation, both Sherrie and Kane turning their attention to him.
“Yes.”
“What is it this time?”
“A flash just went out from the Polish Police. Apparently, they’ve been kidnapped.”
Leroux sighed, shaking his head. “Those two shouldn’t be allowed out of the country. Does the chief know?”
“Not yet, I figured I’d see what you wanted to do first.”
Leroux stared at Sherrie, already regretting the fun he was about to miss out on. “I’ll be there shortly. Let the chief’s office know what’s going on, then start pulling any intel you can find on the situation. And call in the rest of the team. I have a funny feeling we’re going to be busy.”
“Yes, sir.”
Leroux ended the call and gently slammed his head against the mirrored wall behind him.
The Nazi's Engineer Page 10