The Grey Falcon

by J. C. Williams

  The Minister sympathized. “I had no idea that Valmir was treated like that.” He sounded sincere to Chad. Maybe he was. I can use that, he thought.

  “Have you spoken to Harry?” the Minister asked.

  “No. Not since last night when I told him I wouldn’t get to Niš. He doesn’t answer his cell. I am worried about him. When we are finished here, I will try and find him in Belgrade. I expect that he returned there.” So far all this would agree with the facts, as the Minister might know them.

  The Minister became excited examining the buckles. “Your reviewer is correct. These translate to a reference to the Lazar family and the authority over the Morava valley. Dr. Archer, I think these are real.”

  Chad watched. The Minister beamed. He stood and placed all the objects on the table.

  “This is fantastic,” he said. His eyes were watery. Chad thought the reaction was real.

  Maybe he could skip the story about the discovery and get on with his mission.

  No such luck.

  “Where did you find them? How did you find them?” the Minister asked.

  Chapter 76

  “Minister,” Chad began but was interrupted.

  “Please, it is Mihajlo.”

  Chad continued, “If I have a talent, Mihajlo, it is ferreting out the facts of history, recognizing the important ones, and then following their path to a conclusion. That is called forensic history. I practice it and teach it. That is how I found these.”

  “I follow the process. What specifically did you learn?”

  Chad felt he was being grilled, but he stuck to his story and presented it with all the warmth and enthusiasm that he could muster.

  “I learned what I could about Prince Lazar. His history. His beliefs. His passions. His family. I put myself in his place. What would I do if I had his history and character traits and faced a winner-take-all battle outnumbered three to one. My first conclusion was that he must have thought he would not return. And, that he would lose.”

  “I would agree,” Mihajlo nodded.

  “What would become of his family? What would become of his possessions? He would have to think that the Ottomans would continue their conquests, particularly suppressing any retaliation from his royal relatives. That is, his sons, wife, and siblings. He would hide his lineage possessions, but where? He built several monasteries. Ravanica was a favorite and the closest to his capital and to the battlefield that he picked. It was my first choice. But, it’s too obvious and its religious connection would make it a target for the Ottomans. Perhaps somewhere near Niš. That was the last large city he was at and where he assembled his army. There are churches there and he was very religious. It was an obvious choice and where Valmir was digging.”

  “He didn’t find it there though,” the Minister said.

  “No, and he didn’t find any other valuables, but it saved me a lot of time and became a fact. It led me to conclude that the hiding place would be something other than a church, monastery, or fortress. When we visited Valmir’s other site in Kosovo, which had nothing to do with this quest, I noticed that many of the bones had damage that could be a result of battle. There were some weapons there as well. It seemed to me to be a place that was special to the survivors of a battle.”

  “The Battle of Kosovo.”

  “Possibly. I have done considerable work in caves. I have seen techniques that man has used to conceal holes in caves and make them look natural. I spotted that at the site. That’s where I chose to go yesterday. It took me all night to find the artifacts. They were in the third location that I excavated.”

  “No interference from other workers or those that threatened Valmir?”

  “I had visitors last night, but they were chased away by the KFOR.” There. That should confirm for Brajkovic where I was, Chad thought.

  “Good. And, fortunate.”

  “Yes.” Brajkovic seemed convinced. Chad tried not to show his relief. Change the subject he told himself.

  “I think I failed you with your goal,” Chad said.

  Brajkovic was taken aback.

  Chad continued. “This began because of a threatening letter. You hoped the quest would lead to the person. Neither quest identified anyone that could be the author of the letter.”

  Chad knew that was never the issue, but he wanted to talk about threats.

  “Oh, well, as I mentioned, we get threats all of the time.”

  “Has the security team found the origin of the threat?”

  “No, they have not.”

  “So there is still a threat and you think it might be connected to Vidovdan?”

  “That is always a possibility.”

  Was that an ironic smile, Chad asked silently? He had no evidence, just loose facts that suggested Vidovdan was the day of the assassination.

  “What will you do with the sword and other items?” Chad asked.

  “Share and lead, Chad. Share and lead.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “These belong to the Serbian people. All Serbian people. It represents the dedication of St. Lazar and his army to the protection of the Christian values from the infidels. It represents a defense of what is ours. Our lands. Our culture. Our kingdom. A contiguous land of Serbian ethnicity.”

  Chad felt he had pushed a button. The Minister was oblivious to Chad’s presence. He was voicing his internal thoughts. His passion showed.

  “These items. This holiday. The events of tomorrow and the next day will be the beginning of our return.”

  Tomorrow? Chad wondered. The day before Vidovdan?

  Brajkovic went on for ten minutes. It seemed to be a mini version of the slide show that Chad recorded. He shared his plans for investments, for the march to the sea through Montenegro, annexing the Serbian states, and becoming the regional financial power. He spoke of the unemployment levels again. All of the Balkans was in double digits. Serbia alone had over seven hundred thousand people unemployed.

  “Worst of all,” the Minister pointed out, “as I shared with you in my office, is the thirty to sixty percent youth unemployment. In the UK and your USA it is only 15 percent. You do not know the feeling of hopelessness and unrest. You do not know the fear and expectation of unrest and revolt.”

  Chad just listened.

  “All Serbians will want to join us. All our opponents will continue to spiral down in population and economy.”

  Chad picked up on a point in his tirade. He appealed to Brajkovic’s ego.

  “That is exciting. I think your passion and vision is enticing. You will pull many of the undecided to your point of view. However, you mentioned recognition of Kosovo. That isn’t the prevailing view of Serbia or the president and prime minister, is it?”

  “No it is not. More than half of Serbians, according to polls do not want to recognize Kosovo. However, those people don’t see the bigger picture, they don’t see the long view. I think with the inclusion of north Kosovo into Serbia and the inspiration from Prince Lazar,” he said nodding toward the table, “The people will accept it.”

  “But, you still have the obstacle of the president and the prime minister.”

  “They follow the voice of the majority for their political future.” He paused, and then added, “Obstacles can be removed.”

  “By Vidovdan? Day after tomorrow? Is this the event of tomorrow that you mentioned?” Chad had picked up on that reference earlier. Now, he was convinced the assassination was planned for tomorrow. He hoped the listeners to the transmitter in his backpack were as convinced.

  Brajkovic recognized his error.

  “You are very smart, Chad. You should consider coming to work for me. I am the future here.”

  “No thanks. I can support your goals for progress and some of your plans, but only if they were for all Balkan countries, not just Serbia. I cannot support the nationalistic fever you want that will just promulgate bigotry and separation. Serbians against Croatians, Kosovars, Algerians, Bosnians, and everyone else. Christians
, Orthodox and Catholic, against Muslims.”

  The Minister said, “Too bad, Dr. Archer.”

  “The assassination will be by a Muslim, won’t it? And then Serbia invades Kosovo in retaliation?”

  “That is your short sighted view,” the Minister laughed. “The army will not invade for retaliation. We will invade to protect the Kosovars from retaliation by the Serbs living in northern Kosovo. And, to protect the Serbs as well. Retaliation would be condemned by the world. Protection, however, will be applauded and underscores my ability to stabilize the Balkan world.”

  “I have something else you are looking for,” Chad said. The minister showed surprise. Chad removed the photos from the backpack.

  He tossed them to Brajkovic.

  “Didn’t think you knew that you had them,” the Minister said. “This doesn’t change anything.”

  “You know that it does,” Chad said.

  “Copies exist?”

  “Of course.”

  “Chad, you underestimate the Serbian people and their thirst for restoration. When this leaks out, there will be many that applaud me as a Bosnian Serb and my nationalistic credentials.”

  Chad responded, “I think you underestimate the innate humane side of people and their sense of right and wrong. All people. Serbians included. This could ruin what you have built. It will certainly derail your future.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Brajkovic said.

  “What if you announced your heritage? Embraced it. Don’t you think people will see that your dedication to public service as an adult was to make up for the actions of a misled and misguided youth? You can lead people to higher level of religious and ethnic tolerance. You can achieve Balkan progress without assassinations, invasions, and inflammation of racial and religious bigotry.”

  “My political life would be over. I would be tried and even sent to prison.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Chad said using the Minister’s words. “You have a choice, Mihajlo. You can take that chance. For the greater good. Or, you can follow the selfish path of nationality.”

  “That sounds like an or-else threat,” he replied.

  “No, Minister it’s a choice. The reward is in doing the right thing.”

  “Do you remember the story of the grey falcon that I told you?”

  “Sure,” Chad said. “Prince Lazar was visited by the prophet Elijah in the form of a grey falcon. He was offered the choice of an earthly kingdom through victory or a heavenly kingdom as a result of surrender or defeat.”

  “Are you my grey falcon, Dr. Archer?”

  Chad didn’t respond.

  Brajkovic continued. “Do you remember the curse?

  Whoever is a Serb and of Serb birth,

  And of Serb blood and heritage,

  And comes not to fight at Kosovo, etc.”

  Chad finished it, “He is cursed.”

  “I risk the curse if I do not stand up and join the fight.”

  “I think you are joining the wrong fight, but you have made your choice. I will leave,” Chad said and stood.

  “Goodbye, Chad,” the Minister said, as he turned his back to Chad and looked out the window.

  Chad left the room, held his breath as he walked past the two guards, and descended the stairs. Where is my protection?

  Back in the room, Minister Brajkovic, the former Branko Nebojsa, Bosnian Serb, stood at the window and called Jovan Zevic. The phone was answered silently. The Minister knew his executioner was nearby and maintaining silence.

  “Take care of him. Leave his body in Belgrade,” the Minister instructed. Since people knew Archer came to Ravanica, his body had to be found back in Belgrade. Brajkovic knew Zevic could make it look like a mugging. He continued to watch as Chad came into view walking toward the arch where the gate used to be. A large dark shape stepped from behind the dormitory building and quickly moved behind Archer. The shadow grabbed Archer around the neck and dragged him behind the building.

  Minister Brajkovic answered the knock on his door. One of the guards stepped in and spoke in Serbian. “A nun to do the housekeeping.”

  Brajkovic nodded. It was the nightly routine to empty wastebaskets, turn down the covers, and remove any dishes and such. He moved to the table and looked once more at his treasures. The nun entered with her cart.

  Fifteen minutes later the nun exited. She left her cart in the storeroom at the end of the hall, took a trash bag, and walked down the stairs.

  She carried the bag out the side door. The same one Chad used yesterday. She disappeared into the darkness of the woods, removed her habit, and stealthily walked a mile into the village of Senje where she had left her car.

  Chad’s car was parked beside it. He stood next to it. A large beefy man leaned against the trunk.

  “Everything go okay?” she asked passing the bag with the artifacts to Chad.

  Chad rubbed his shoulder and arm. “I would say so,” he muttered.

  The other man said something in Italian and laughed.

  Lupa laughed as well. Chad looked at them confused.

  “Bruno says that I told him to be convincing.”

  Chad laughed with them. “He was that. Very convincing. Thank you. Both.”

  He shook hands with them and accepted their good-luck wishes.

  -------

  In his room, the Minister sat slumped at the table, his laptop and work in front of him. The artifacts were gone. The photos were gone. The additional potassium chloride that raced through his veins and stopped his heart would look a little high, but natural, on a tox screen. A heart attack would be the conclusion when he was found in the morning.

  Fittingly, his last thoughts were about the grey falcon of 1389. He had thought that the grey falcon of 2016 was not as successful. He was wrong. However, his plans were already in motion for a new Battle of Kosovo.

  June 27

  1 day to Vidovdan

  Chapter 77

  The black government Mercedes sped along Sarajevska Street, toward the Andricev Venac where both the Old Palace and the New Palace was located. Chad Archer sat quietly in the rear seat. He carried a folder, a flash drive, the sword, and other items in an oversized duffel bag.

  The President of Serbia lived in the New Palace. He and the prime minister awaited Chad’s arrival.

  Traffic was lighter today, one day before the holiday as many people stretched out the weekend. Most Serbians, this morning, were still unaware of the breaking news of the death of Minister Mihajlo Brajkovic. News stations had heard rumors and the social network had a few tweets coming from the Senje area, probably originating with the Emergency Services response team.

  Chad’s first view of the New Palace was the one that tourists and citizens saw. The four-story block building was seen from the side, across a green lawn with curved rows of flowers. The various shades of red contrasted with the grass. White brick sidewalks crisscrossed the picturesque open area and several benches lined the walkways, inviting one to sit and contemplate the home of their country’s leader. Although, only residents and guests of the palace could wander the grounds on that side of the metal security fence equipped with the latest in electronic detection.

  The building’s brown stone construction framed arched and barred ground-floor windows. Twelve Corinthian columns stood as sentinels between the first and second floors, with floor-to-ceiling windows peeking from between the columns. The fourth floor was set behind a balustrade.

  Chad saw the security on the roof and patrolling the grounds. Several jeeps and one armored vehicle were parked at the street corners around the palace. It was a show of force to put off any potential attacks. Savvy observers would notice the heightened security but not know why. Chad knew why.

  They turned at the corner and were stopped at a security gate. Chad noted the thoroughness of the check even though it was a government vehicle. Mirrors were used under the car; the trunk was checked; the occupants were patted down. All was done under the watchful eyes of two well-
armed guards, while a third soldier manned a mounted machine gun in a sandbag bunker thirty yards away.

  Finally inside the gates, he climbed out of the car and ascended the five steps past two smartly dressed blue uniformed guards standing at ease. Each held a rifle and carried a sidearm.

  The double glass door entrance was decorated with white grillwork its entire nine-foot height. The three-foot transom above it matched the door.

  Two more security people were inside. They stood in front of a bulletproof screen. Chad put his items on an x-ray belt, and walked through a detector.

  Finally he was shown into a comfortable library room. Two men stood and greeted him. They introduced themselves as the President and Prime Minister.

  The Prime Minister spoke first. “Dr. Archer, you have some influential friends that requested we meet with you. Personally and alone. Without our Intelligence and Security teams.”

  Chad responded, “I don’t know who they may be, but I realize people I know spoke with others and so on to arrange this. I appreciate your time.”

  The President was gracious. “Please sit down. We thank you for coming. We understand you have additional information about these three events that have shocked us this morning.”

  Chad had a moment of confusion. “What are the three events?”

  “First is the Minister’s heart attack. The second is the assassination plot uncovered by Interpol and shut down by our Security forces. So far, they learned the attempt was scheduled for today, as we were to meet with several youth groups that are preparing for the celebration tomorrow. A large truck with special armored plating and bulletproof windows was to drive into the crowd to where we were rehearsing. Its detonation would have killed hundreds of children.”