I’d go batty stuck in my apartment.
About the only excitement he had in his life was provided by his best friends, Jim Acton and Laura Palmer. They often invited him on their exotic vacations, paying his way, something it had taken some time for him to become comfortable with. He had finally settled on the analogy that due to Laura’s extreme wealth thanks to her late brother’s Internet business, her buying him a luxury vacation was equivalent to him buying them a fancy cup of coffee.
Something he wouldn’t hesitate to do.
Though vacations weren’t the only way they provided excitement.
They had a knack for getting into trouble, their recent escapades in the south of France with the Templars nearly getting them all killed, including his son, Spencer.
He smiled at the picture of his son sitting on the corner of his desk. Their trip to Spain, the first as father and son, their relationship strained for over a decade after the divorce, had been interrupted by the troubles in France, but the experience had brought them closer together than ever before, his son confessing he wanted to be a police officer.
It had been the proudest moment of his life when he dropped him off at Hendon Police College last week. It had taken a lot of convincing to get his mother to support the decision, but she had eventually come around. Reading had his suspicions it was mostly because she didn’t want to be on the opposite side of the choice as he was, when it was clear Spencer would join regardless of what she said.
These were dangerous times, but if no one let their sons and daughters join the fight, then all would be lost.
His computer beeped at him, and he snapped out of his reverie, grabbing the mouse and clicking on the keyword alert notification in his inbox.
And cursed.
It was from the Interpol office in Warsaw, an alert issued about the possible kidnapping of one American, and one Brit.
His friends.
Not again!
He grabbed his phone, dialing Acton as he read the rest of the notification. It went directly to voicemail. He dialed Laura with the same result. He sat for a moment, wondering who to call next that might actually know something, then smiled. He pulled up the number for Acton’s best friend, Gregory Milton, and dialed.
“Hello?”
“Hi Greg, it’s Hugh Reading.”
“Oh, God, Hugh, have you heard?”
“I just saw a notice. So it’s true?”
“Yes. It looks like they were kidnapped sometime this morning, their time, and nobody has seen them since.”
“Why them?”
“As far as I can gather, they were taken so that they could authenticate the find when the thieves delivered the Amber Room to their buyer.”
Reading scribbled notes the old-fashioned way, as his mind raced. “This ‘room,’ is it big?”
“Very.”
“So not something you just toss in the back of a truck.”
“According to Jim, it was contained on two boxcars, so I would suspect you’d need at least one, if not two transport trucks to move it. Can you help?”
“I don’t know, but I can bloody well try. I’ll have to figure out a way to get to Poland.”
“Just use the account, that’s what it’s there for.”
Reading paused. Milton was right. He had access to an emergency fund, Laura having given him all the information he would require should there be a need. He didn’t know how much it contained, but it was millions. And he also had permission to make use of their personal travel agent, who arranged pretty much any kind of transport, including access to their private jet network.
And he hated using it, every single time.
He sighed. “I can’t believe we have friends that have a bank account with millions of dollars in it just in case they get kidnapped and need to be rescued by their friends.”
“It is rather fantastic, isn’t it?”
“That’s putting it mildly.” He blasted some air through his pursed lips, then nodded. “Okay, fine, I’ll use the account. I’ll contact you later with an update.”
“Thanks, Hugh, and good luck. Oh, wait!”
Reading pressed the phone back against his ear. “What?”
“Tommy Granger and Mai Trinh are in Germany. I’ll text you their contact info. Tommy’s a whiz on computers. He might be able to help you.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” He ended the call and headed for his boss’ office, knowing full well how the conversation he was about to have would go. He tapped on the glass, and Betty Richard waved him in.
“Hi, Hugh, what can I do for you?”
Reading closed the door. “An alert has been issued. Professor James Acton and his wife, a British citizen, Professor Laura Palmer, have been kidnapped in Poland.”
“Yes, I saw that.”
“I want to be assigned to the case.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Hugh, I need you here.”
“But these are my friends. I have to help them.”
Richard motioned to an empty chair. “I’m sorry, Hugh, but we’ve got that human trafficking operation tomorrow, and you’re key.”
Reading remained standing. “Bollocks! Anyone can handle that. Give it to Michelle. She’s fully briefed, and twenty years younger than me. She can handle it.”
“I’m sorry, Hugh, but the discussion is over.”
Reading cursed. “Fine!” He pulled out his ID and dropped it on her desk. “I quit!”
Richard’s eyes widened. “You can’t just quit! You have responsibilities! Obligations!”
“Yes, I do. To my friends. These people have saved my life on too many bloody occasions to leave them hanging, and frankly, they’ve saved thousands of lives if not more, over the years doing things you’ll never know about. I am going to help them. I’d prefer to do it with my position intact and the resources of the agency, but if that’s not possible, then so be it.”
Richard sighed, then chuckled as she shook her head. “Hugh, you’re a pain in my bloody ass.” She reached forward and grabbed his ID, tossing it at him. “Consider yourself reassigned. Just try not to kill anyone this time.”
Reading grinned. “No promises.”
36
Inselhotel
Potsdam, Germany
“What should we do?”
Tommy rolled over to face Mai, brushing some stray strands of hair from her face, though it was merely an excuse to touch her. “I don’t know.” He thought for a moment. “What would the professors want us to do?”
Mai shrugged. “They’d want us to stay safe.”
Tommy grunted. “Well, that should be fairly easy. We’re in Germany, and they’re in Poland.”
“Are they? We really have no idea where they’re taking them, do we?”
Tommy’s eyes widened. “You’re right.” He brought up a map of Europe, pointing at Poland. “They could be heading in pretty much any direction, even Russia.”
Mai propped herself up so she could get a better look. “I doubt that. They’d have to go through Belarus or Ukraine, and those are controlled borders.”
“Aren’t they all?”
“No, not in Europe. Most countries are part of the Schengen Agreement, which means open borders. No passports required.”
Tommy was once again impressed with how smart his girlfriend was. “So they could be traveling almost anywhere within the European Union.”
“Yes, but let’s think about this. They won’t head east, because those are all controlled borders. They could head north to the Baltic Sea, but those ports are going to be watched closely.” She pointed at the map. “They could head west to Germany, or south to the Czech Republic or Slovakia.”
Tommy scrolled the map. “You know, if they went south, they could stay in the former East Bloc countries. Things aren’t as tight there as they would be in Germany or France.”
Mai nodded. “True, but really, except for heading east, I don’t think we’ve completely ruled anything out.”
Mai sighed. “If only we had some clue as to which way they headed.”
Tommy’s eyes widened. “Maybe we do!”
“How?”
“The cellphones! There would be a record of the phones the network connected to, and where. If these guys had even one cellphone turned on before they activated the jammer, we might be able to track it!”
“You can do that?”
Tommy stuck his hand out. “Hi, Tommy Granger, hacker extraordinaire. Nice to meet you.”
Mai giggled. “I know, I know, I should never doubt you when it comes to computers. It’s one of the things I love about you.”
He paused, his stomach flipping. “Love?”
Mai blushed and turned away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Tommy smiled, his heart hammering. “Do you, umm, love me?”
She stole a glance. “I, ahh, I…”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. “I love you too!”
Her face brightened, making her more beautiful than ever, her smile almost stopping his hammering heart. “I love you!” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard before finding his lips and dropping a kiss on him that removed any doubt about how she felt.
She pushed him away. “The professors,” she gasped, and he groaned in response, adjusting his shorts.
“Right, I almost forgot.” He sneaked one last peck.
She loves me!
37
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
Analyst Supervisor Chris Leroux suppressed a smile as he entered the operations center, lest his well-trained team figure out their boss had got some before arriving for work.
Twice!
“Status?”
Randy Child, their youngest team member and brilliant on the tech side of things, spun in his chair. “Not much yet, beyond confirming that the professors were indeed kidnapped. Interpol has been notified, and the appropriate embassies along with every other law enforcement agency out there. The Poles are handling this by the book.”
Sonya Tong, another of his crack analysts, and one with an inappropriate crush on her boss that he was aware of, though he hoped she wasn’t, raised a hand. “They’ve apparently freed those trapped inside the mine. One was shot, but she’s stable and at the hospital.”
“And we have no idea who took them?”
Tong shook her head. “None.”
“Any satellite images of the area?”
Child grunted. “We’re working on it, but apparently the primary bird for that area was retasked at the time. I guess nobody’s really concerned what happens in Poland these days.”
Leroux sat in his chair. “How times have changed. World War Two started there, it’s where the Germans and Russians first went to war, it’s where the Red Army rolled through to get to Germany, it’s where the Solidarity Movement started that helped trigger the collapse of the Soviet Union, and it was one of the first former Warsaw Pact countries to join NATO. And now no one cares.”
“I care, boss.”
Leroux gave Child a look. “Thanks, Randy, that’s helpful.”
Randy grinned, giving a thumbs up, eliciting a snicker from Tong.
The door swung open and their boss, National Clandestine Service Chief Leif Morrison, strode in, waving a greeting to the room. “Good morning, everyone. Status?”
Leroux leaped to his feet before his boss could stop him. “We’re trying to track the Actons now, though without knowing what to look for since we didn’t have satellite coverage over that area, there’s not much we can do until we get a lead. We’ll run their faces through every camera in the area, see if we get lucky. They have to have used trucks for all those crates, so we might spot something there.”
Child cleared his throat. “Doubt it, boss, there’s a major transport route near the mine. My guess is they just blended.”
Leroux frowned. “Well, we’ll try anyway.”
Morrison shook his head. “I hate to do this, but State says they want the Europeans to handle this on their own.”
Leroux’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Why?”
Morrison shrugged. “Hey, I’m just the messenger here. With things so delicate right now, we don’t want the Europeans thinking we’re spying on them, so CIA is out”—he raised a finger, cutting off Leroux’s imminent protest—“of Europe. If you can find anything outside of Europe, like who the guys behind this are, who their buyer might be, or if they leave the continent, then we’re back in the game. But for now, we aren’t allowed to access any European system that we don’t already have an open agreement for.”
Child cursed, and Leroux almost joined him. “Okay, that ties our hands. We’ll look for any reference to this Amber Room in the past couple of days. Maybe that will lead us somewhere.”
Morrison headed for the door. “Good luck.”
Leroux frowned. “We’re not the ones that need it. It’s the professors that do.”
38
Route A1, Poland
Acton listened to everything said in the car, even if it was only one side of the conversation. Though he gleaned little, he gathered at least some additional intel. He knew there was at least one other team out there still involved, which made sense. There had been three SUVs at the mine when they left, along with the two transport trucks.
He also knew the second team was looking for some type of match for something, and that they had succeeded. The only problem with that little tidbit, was he had no clue whatsoever as to what they were talking about.
At this moment, there was no indication anybody was even searching for them, and if they were, these men seemed unconcerned with the prospect, especially after notification had been received that ‘matches’ had been found. For now, the real hope was that someone would figure out what trucks had been used, and then those trucks would be found on the traffic cameras, a much better prospect than his own face being captured, though he hoped they both had got on some camera at their last bathroom break.
The immediate problem was that everybody at the mine had been in the chamber, so nobody except for them saw the trucks used. Unless there had been a stray sighting, there might be no hope of ever being found. Perhaps someone had witnessed the trucks and thought nothing of it at the time, but would make the connection when the news broke.
It was a possibility, but he wasn’t willing to hang their lives on that faint hope. They had to escape somehow. These men were professionals, and their demeanor suggested military backgrounds, and their accents suggested at least the occupants of this vehicle were Russian, though they were speaking English consistently, perhaps in an effort to disguise that fact.
I wonder if they’re Spetsnaz.
If they were, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill them. He’d have to be a little more careful with his provocations, though he feared that once this was all over, and they had played their part, they’d be killed regardless. They were witnesses who had seen faces.
If they were to escape, then he had to figure out some way to communicate with Laura. Their first bathroom break had provided no opportunity for both of them to escape, their captors only letting them go one at a time, and escorted.
Though there had only been opportunities for one of them to get away.
The rest stops were very busy with plenty of witnesses. He didn’t care what happened to him, but Laura had to escape at the next opportunity, as they had no idea how many more they would get. But he needed to somehow convey this to her. His finger tapped on his knee, and he wished they both knew Morse code.
He suppressed a smile as he realized there was one code that they both would know from their pre-smartphone days. He placed his hand on her leg then tapped his index finger, then his middle finger, then his ring finger, then bent his wrist upward, repeated the pr
ocess, then bent his wrist even further, tapping each finger once again. A total of nine times. He repeated this process once more then exchanged an innocent glance with Laura, who looked at him, her eyes suggesting she had no idea what he was trying to communicate.
He leaned forward. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to text our cleaning lady to let her know we’re going to be late.”
The man growled at him, but said nothing. Acton sat back and made eye contact once again as he repeated his finger tapping. Laura’s eyes suddenly widened and she nodded slightly.
He typed a word out on her leg, purposefully positioning each finger as the nine keys on a phone, 2 through 9 each assigned three to four letters.
It was time to go old school. He tapped.
U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D.
She shrugged slightly. He repeated the message, slower, and her eyes widened slightly. She placed her hand on his leg and typed out a message.
Y-E-S.
He suppressed a relieved sigh. It would be slow, each letter having to be thought out as he struggled to remember the old style of texting, but it was something that would work, and could be done without their captors knowing.
WILL KILL US.
She nodded.
MUST ESCAPE.
HOW?
IF OUT CAR RUN IF CHANCE.
YOU TOO.
He shook his head.
Her lips thinned. YES. She jabbed her finger hard into his thigh on the last letter.
He frowned. OK.
Though he had no intention of following through on that. He watched as they pulled in behind their two trucks, and he again wondered what was meant by finding matches, matches that had been apparently found. They entered a tunnel, and he made a point of leaning against the window, hoping a traffic camera might pick up an image of his face, then leaned back toward Laura before he was noticed.
As they emerged from the tunnel, his eyes narrowed, something different about the two trucks ahead as they took a slight bend to the right, revealing the fabric-clad sides.
The Nazi's Engineer Page 12
