“You mentioned a Nazi hunter, but not neo-nazis. It’s my understanding that most people consider them to be rather unsavory people. Are these people holding your friends, unsavory?”
“They’re not too bright, we know that, and we think they may be somewhat unsavory, yes. We want to get Gale back sooner rather than later. Jinny is going after them tomorrow, but right now, we would like to take you to the theater where the opera will be performed. You can meet Guignard and Constantine and Jinny there, and we’ll have a bite of dinner.”
“What’s Jinny going to do if he finds them tomorrow?”
Gwen and Roger looked at each other. Finally Gwen said, “He’s a hunter.”
“Oh.”
Chapter 59 – Renee Sees the Gun
A little later they took Renee to The Hall, where they introduced her to the other team members, including Little Jinny Blistov. The first thing they did was to play parts of the recording of the Stravinsky ballet they had produced a few months earlier. This was the musical score they had found hidden in a desk, the score never having been seen by anyone other than Stravinsky, and lost since 1914. The orchestral score had been transcribed for synthesizer, and performed during the production by a well-known friend of Paul McCartney, which was what had led McCartney to be in Charleston when he was kidnapped. That and his daughter’s friendship with Anna, who lived here and was one of the June’s intimates. After listening to Act II of the ballet, they had dinner on the stage, catered by McGradys Restaurant. With coffee, Gwen played the CD Renee had brought back with her over the state of the art sound system, which was the first time the others had heard the four songs Paul had put together, and the first time any of them had heard them in a theater setting. They were a knockout.
Then it was time for business, and Gwen decided to include Renee in it. Her intuition told her Renee wouldn’t blab, and it was an opportunity to build the opera production team. She circled the chairs on the stage as she had done so many times during the eight month production schedule of the ballet, and started the council session with a bang, though not literally. She looked across the circle at Jinny and said, “Let’s see it.” Everyone except the singer knew what she meant, and no one except her was surprised when Jinny reached behind his right hip and pulled a 40 caliber Glock from under his shirt. “Ok, Jinny. It’s time to find Gale and Richard, and that is what you’re going to do tomorrow. You’re going back up the interstate and find those boy’s new rathole, and you’re going to grab some rats by the neck like a Fox Terrier, and you’re going to make them tell you where the NNs are. Got it?”
Jinny thumbed the button that released the magazine from the handle of the gun, checked its contents, and rammed the mag back into the handle with a resounding SNAP. He set the gun on the floor, looked back across the circle, and said, “I got it, Gwenny.”
She looked around the circle and said, “When he finds them, he’s going to back off and call me, and we’re going to meet him, and then we’re going to get Gale and Richard.” She looked at Jinny again. “You understand about backing off? Calling? Waiting?” He nodded. She looked at Guignard and said, “You need to stay behind and take care of Renee. This won’t take long. Then we’ll be back and start up on the production. Ok?”
Jinny had been an associate of the Junes for three years, and Guignard for two years, and now was the first time the others saw her act angry. She stood up, looked right at Gwen, and with a fierce voice said, “No. Not staying here. Going with you. Going with Jinny. Jinny is going after those boys, I’m going with you. That’s it.” And from under her jacket she pulled a compact nine millimeter Sig Sauer, mimicked Jinny checking the magazine, and set it on the floor at her feet. She glared at Gwen.
Renee Fleming had shared the stage with many famous people around the world, in many performances of many kinds, but this was the very first time she had shared a stage with two loaded handguns.
The others looked from Gwen to Guignard and back again, letting the meaning of the encounter settle in, and then, almost on cue, broke into laughter. Roger, Slev, Constantine, and Jinny, all started laughing. Ten seconds after this break, Gwen smiled, and ten seconds after that, Guignard smiled. She and Jinny picked up their pieces, holstered them, and walked over to the table to pour themselves another cup of coffee. Gwen looked at Renee and said, “You may be on your own tomorrow.”
Chapter 60 – Paul’s Got a Friend
The next morning, following Gwen’s instructions, Jinny and Guignard came to her house for breakfast. Mostly this was to make sure Guignard didn’t try to go on the mission with Jinny. Her going with the team was one thing; her going just with Jinny was another. When they arrived at 8am, Jinny said he was ready to go. Gwen said, “You think those boys are morning people? You think they get up early to water their gardens? You’ll be lucky if any of ‘em are out of their holes by noon. Cool your tool. Take the dog for a long walk.” Which he did.
When he left she said to Renee, “We can call the other kidnappers and tell them you’re here, and they will tell Paul and Anna and Stella. Ok?”
She nodded and said, “Will I get to talk to Paul? I want to sing Hey Renn with him right away.”
“Mostly we don’t get to talk directly with our friends, but we have once or twice. Usually we talk with the kidnapper butler whose name is Jools. He’s ok, although I always try to scare him, and it usually works. He and Scotilly are kind of like, um, benevolent kidnappers.”
“They have three people locked up in a WWII bunker, and are extorting five million dollars from Paul, and they’re benevolent?”
“It’s complicated. They’re also demanding five million from Stirg for Anna. You haven’t met him yet, he’s the Nazi hunter. Former Nazi hunter. He’s retired now.”
“He’s the one who’s killed people? You mean like, Nazis?”
“Let’s not go there right now, ok? Let’s call Jools and tell them the good news.” She dialed Anna’s number, with the speaker on.
“Good morning, Jools here, how may I be of service?”
“You know what kind of car I drive, Jools?”
“Good morning, Ms. June. Lovely to hear your voice. What a way to start the day. No, I’m sorry I haven’t as yet achieved a level of personal intimacy that would accord me the privilege of riding in your car. But let me guess, would you? A woman of your distinction, kind yet stern, strong yet compassionate, drenched in leadership behaviors yet willing to wait for the slowest and weakest in your troupe, a woman like you could only drive a British made car, that is for certain. And there is only one British made car suitable for your class, your personality, your panache. Ms. June, I think you drive a Jaguar.”
Gwen wasn’t quite sure where to go. As usual, she had tried to assume the initiative with her opening gambit of asking him about her car. Her intention was to follow up by telling him that any minute now he was going to see her car outside his house, implying that she and her friends had found them and were rescuing Paul and the girls. She loved intimidating this poor little butler. Now he had stolen the initiative from her by grabbing the car ball and running open field with it. And he had scored by guessing correctly. She did drive a Jag. The little runt. Guignard leaned over and whispered this to Renee.
“Ok, Jools, you scored, I gotta give you this one. Just remember what it means when you see that Jag enter your driveway, which is going to happen any day now.”
“Ms. June, you're trying to scare me and Scotilly? For shame. A person of your sensitivities.”
“We have good news.”
“Yes dear?”
“You scored a point, Jools. That doesn’t mean we’re on intimate terms.”
“You can’t take my dreams away from me, Ms. June.”
“We have Renee Fleming here. She’s agreed to sing in the production, on one condition.”
“Ms. Fleming, I’m honored, and so shall Scotilly be when I inform her. Yo
ur participation will enhance the opera to stratospheric levels, and endow the music with a depth and breadth of quality that no one else could. We welcome you to our team and our artistic endeavor.”
Renee said, “That’s a kidnapper? A kidnapper talks like that?”
Gwen said, “I guess it happens. Remember how Anthony Hopkins talked in Hannibal?”
“Oh god, I do. What a voice. And the man can dress. Remember that white hat. He looked fabulous it in. I’m glad he didn’t invite me to dinner, because I’d have gone. The voice, the hat, the cape, the chianti. I love Italian wine.”
“Jools, Renee wants to meet Paul right away so she can start learning the songs and collaborating. When can I bring her over?”
“Now, Ms. June, no tricks, though I understand her desire to meet the master. I will consult with my master regarding the intricacies and logistics of the collaboration.”
“You know a day of reckoning is near, don’t you, when we meet, and accounts are settled. No hiding behind proprieties and a flowery accent then.”
“The day we meet will prove that dreams do come true, dear.”
“The day we meet will be the day you meet Mr. Sauer.”
“Mr. Sauer? Is he an impresario like you? Ballet? Opera? Theater? Symphony? Museum?”
“That would be Dr. Sig Sauer, and he will introduce himself in a direct and prominent way, Jools. I promise you that.”
Renee never had heard of an impresario named Sauer, and didn’t really understand what was going on, but she did know she wanted to meet, or at least talk to, Paul McCartney. She said, “Can I talk with him, at least? Now. I have to meet him.”
“What do you say, Jools? Can you get Paul on the phone with Renee? They have a lot to talk about. Time is short for the production, and her time is valuable. By the way, we’re taking her fee off the top of the ransom, and she doesn’t come cheap.” She smiled over at Renee, and winked.
“Let me go down to the bun….let me see if Mr. McCartney is available, and I’ll ring you back promptly. Wonderful to meet your Ms. Fleming. I wish that could happen in person, but I fear that when the production is over, I will be miles and miles away, perhaps on my own private island somewhere, my own master at last, and no one else’s.”
Gwen said, “You’ll meet her, Jools. I’ll open up the trunk of the Jag, where you’ll be spending time soon, and introduce you.”
“Ta, Renee, ta, Gwenny.”
Gwen clicked the off button and turned to Renee. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.” Renee didn’t say anything verbally, but telegraphically told Gwen to go ahead. “First, I think we could find where they’re keeping Paul and Anna and Stella if we wanted to. They’ve let slip a couple of clues. But like I’ve told you, Paul is ok where he is because it’s letting him concentrate on composing the songs with zero distractions, and I don’t want to interrupt that. But you want more than him handing you sheets of music, you want to collaborate, and to do that you need to get with him face to face as soon as possible.” Renee said, yes, without saying anything. She and Gwen were a pair. “So, what if I proposed to Scotilly that you go to wherever she has them stashed, but blindfolded, so you can’t give away the location.” She paused. “That would make you a captive, too. And this place is not going to be the Ritz. Can you handle that?”
“You have no idea how much I loved the two songs from the opera he put on the CD and sent to me. Hey Renn is superb, and I think I get his central concept for the whole opera. It’s, what makes men women relationships last over the long haul? How important is that? If he’s locked up in a warehouse, I’ll go.”
“There’s one more angle to it. I also need you here, to work with us on the production at The Hall. Would you be willing to do that, too?”
“How? How can I be locked up with him and work with you here?”
“It would mean you doing the blindfolded thing several times. Maybe many times over the next weeks. If Scotilly agrees, you would be the go-between them and us. It would not be fun, but it’s the best way to make the greatest production.”
“Would it be safe?”
“Yes. If it wasn’t safe in my judgment, we would have gone all out to find and rescue them.”
Renee leaned against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. When she opened them she said, “I’ve never been this excited about music and singing. I’ll do anything for this. Go ahead and make your plan work. I’ll have a blast with him, and a blast with you at The Hall.
Chapter 61 – Rescue Number One
Roger had to lock Guignard in the bathroom to keep her from going on the hunt with Jinny. He told her she couldn’t come, and Gwen told her she couldn’t go, but she sensed danger to Jinny. He told her he’d see her with the others at the final assault. He used that word, assault, which didn’t faze Roger or Gwen, but it did capture Renee Fleming’s attention. She hadn’t done much assaulting in her international operatic career, other that at the upper and lower points of the sopranic vocal range. Roger asked Jinny if he had a backup piece on his leg, to which he replied, “You’re my backup piece. See ya soon.”
When he was gone Roger let Guignard out of the bathroom, at which point she gave him a dirty look, but that didn’t last long. Gwen didn’t know how long it would take Jinny to find the new rathole, induce one or more of the rats to tell him the location of the rat who was harboring the NNs, confine the rats somehow so they couldn’t alert or assist anyone, find Richard’s and Gale’s location, and report to her. But she figured it would be a couple of hours, at least. So she called Constantine and Slev, Stirg and Nev, and told them to meet her at The Hall in three hours. She and Guignard and Roger might as well get some work done on the production in the meantime.
Gwen and Roger went upstairs to dress for the occasion, asking Guignard to pack sandwiches and water. When they came back into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, Guignard said, “My, my, fashion commandos. You guys always dress with style.” They wore matching hightop black sneakers, black cargo pants, and black pullover tops. Very unisex. Each carried their gun in a holster behind their right hip, and a fanny pack that contained a second gun, extra magazines, a flashlight, and two M84 stun grenades, available for purchase over the internet. A half hour later they sat on the stage at The Hall, talking about software upgrades for the computerized sound and lighting systems. Four hours later they still were there, having been joined by the other members of the assault team. Everyone was restless.
Jinny, on the other hand, was working. His first stop was, of course, SYAMF. He sat in the parking lot, staring at the charred remnants, thinking, “Where would I be today if I was a neo-nazi rat.” He headed to the local gun shop, which had an indoor shooting range out back. He walked down the long line of glass display cases, looking at the Glocks and H&Ks and Sig Saucers and Berettas. He asked the clerk if he had any Russian guns.
“Nah, too expensive, and you can’t get ammo, and they suck, anyway, all of ‘em.”
“Jinny decided not to take exception, given the seriousness of his mission, and then asked, “You got any of the white brotherhood boys come in here? Any boys riding bikes? I’m new in town and need to hook up.”
The clerk didn’t trust Jinny as far as he could throw him, but didn’t mind saying he might try the Waffle Hut, down on the interstate. So Jinny headed that way, thinking he could get a bite to eat and do his job at the same time. Inside he looked at the menu and asked, “What’s the ‘meat lovers special’?” When the waitress told him, even Jinny thought that was gross, and ordered a stack of walnut pancakes with banana puree topping, hold the whipped cream. Now he was really multi-tasking, sustaining his body, getting his daily fruit and vegetable quota, and hunting for his quarry. Halfway through the stack he asked the waitress the same question he had asked the gun shop clerk. She didn’t trust Jinny either, but didn’t mind saying he might try Ink Boy’s Tattoo Shop one exit
further on. He left her a twenty dollar tip and went on down the road.
He pulled into the parking lot, and hoped his luck was turning positive when he saw two guys standing next to their Harleys. Out he hopped with a smile on his face and iron in his heart. He walked up, looked at the bikes, and said, “How much do those cost? They are works of art.”
They looked at each other, and one said, “Should you tell him or me?”
“You should.”
Looking at Jinny he said, “Fuck off.”
Jinny absorbed the answer, thought a minute, and said, “It’s not me, it’s I.”
“What? What’s I?”
“You said, ‘Should you tell him or me?’, and you should have said, ‘Should you tell him or I’”
The bikers again looked at each other, and then the second one said, “In either case, bro, the main point is ‘fuck off’. Get it?”
Jinny got it, and really wasn’t perturbed with the rudeness of the answer, him having sustained worse than that from his nanny back in Saint Petersburg. But he was under a certain amount of pressure from Gwenny June to perform, and knowing he had been at this for a few hours with nothing to show for it, he decided that a new tack was called for. So he pulled his piece and showed it to the boys, first pointing it in their direction. For the third time they looked at each other, and then, looking back at Jinny, broke out in laughter. Jinny took this in stride, elevated his opinion of bikers in general, thought a moment, and pointed the gun at the custom made engine block of one of the bikes, that cost forty thousand dollars. The laughter subsided, the bike owner elevated his opinion of this short Russian, built like a concrete bollard, and said, “How can I help you?” Very politely Jinny explained who he was looking for. “The SYAMF boys are building a new place out in the woods, away from the interstate. They get together most days at the Waffle House, bout 4pm, eat something before they go to beering.” Jinny looked at his watch, which said 4pm, said thank you, and asked, “How much do those cost?” This time he got a polite answer.
The Kidnapping of Paul McCartney Page 23
