Lauren felt her fear expand. The look in his eyes left no doubt that he spoke the truth.
“He’ll only show himself to me,” Lauren said, her eyes locked on his as she tried to ignore the blade hovering only inches from her face.
Aleksander backed away, whipped a vibrating cellphone from his pocket, checked the screen then pressed it to his ear. “Oui?”
Lauren was surprised that he switched from English to French and she listened intently.
“Are you sure? You tested it thoroughly?” Aleksander paused, listening. “Good work. I’m on my way. We’ll go tonight. How’s the weather? How fast is the line moving? How high are the tops?”
Even with her rudimentary knowledge of French, she knew meteorological dialogue when she heard it, and he was asking for answers to the questions pilots would want to know.
“That could work in our favor. Start loading and fill it with fuel. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” He ended the call and turned to Lauren, a smile on his face. “You just opted for the slow way to die. I don’t need you or Daniel anymore.”
Lauren tried to look brave, but she understood that the Phoenix, the stealth airplane Daniel had built and then sabotaged was now flyable, and any negotiating strength she had was now gone. With that one phone call, she’d become nothing more than a loose end.
He opened the door and called for one of his men. They stood in the doorway and spoke briefly in Ukrainian, then Aleksander hurried off, leaving his man standing there, lingering. He looked Lauren up and down, making no effort to disguise what he was thinking. He finally walked away, leaving the door wide open. She heard more talking, heard a door slam. Then there was more conversation, laughter, the noise of pots and pans, dishes, then finally the smell of food. They were preparing a meal. Lauren knew that after they ate—they would come for her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“I CAN’T TELL you what’s happening,” Calvin said to Donovan. “We’ve lost satellite coverage. Another asset will be above the horizon in twelve minutes.”
“That’s too long.” Donovan glanced at his watch as he paced. Calvin had tracked both BMWs to a remote farmhouse west of the city. As far as anyone knew, she was alive and there, but he was doing nothing.
“I’m sorry,” Calvin said. “It’s the best I can do. Are you positive you don’t want me to send in a tactical team? I can have assets from SEAL Team Two in position for a pre-dawn raid.”
“Tactical isn’t my problem,” Donovan replied. “Not knowing what’s been happening at that house is my problem.”
“I’ll send you an image in twelve minutes, that’s the most I can manage.”
“Thank you, Calvin.” Donovan had no business being frustrated with any of the people around him. They were all doing their best to free his wife. “I’m sorry, it’s been a rough day.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get her back.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
“Think about it,” Calvin said. “They kidnapped her when they could have killed her. She has something they want. She’ll use it to buy time. Lauren’s smart, she understands how this works, and she’ll milk it for all it’s worth.”
Donovan respected Calvin’s slant on the situation, it made sense. “Thank you for that.”
“You’ll hear from me in twelve minutes.”
A familiar Mercedes 600 sedan pulled around the corner and slowly drove in through the open door and parked in front of the helicopter.
“It’s okay. It’s Karl,” Marta said as she started toward the car.
Donovan hung back and watched as Karl jumped out and moved to the rear door of the Mercedes where he swung it open and stepped aside. Despite the summer heat, a head wearing a watch cap emerged and turned to face them. Kristof. He was dressed smartly in black slacks and a V-neck pullover shirt. Dark glasses masked his eyes, and he leaned heavily on a polished wooden cane.
“What the—?” Marta said as she changed course and headed for her father. “You’re not supposed to be—how did you even get here?”
“I had no idea you planned to leave Innsbruck with him,” Kristof said as he slid off his sunglasses, letting them hang from the neck of his shirt. He leaned his hip against the trunk of the car for support. “I had to hear it from Eric.”
Donovan had motioned for everyone else to hang back. He approached the car and stood next to Marta, noticing that Kristof’s eyes appeared more alert. His pallor had improved, but the fatigue was still there, carved deeply into the lines on his face.
“I’m a big girl, I can do what I please,” Marta said with conviction. “You turned down Mr. Nash’s request for help. I accepted. It’s as simple as that.”
Kristof’s eyes went from his daughter to Donovan. “Like I said before, it’s never simple with this man. I thought about what you whispered to me after I demanded Nash leave. I tried to catch you, to explain, but you’d already taken off for Budapest. Now I’m here.”
“Explain what?” Marta said as she cocked her hip.
“I wanted to tell you that you were right. I only saw the situation through my lens. I didn’t look at it from your perspective,” Kristof said. “But after everything I’ve seen and heard since I’ve been in Budapest, I also need to tell you that this situation with Nash and his wife is more dangerous than you know.”
“In what way?” Marta asked. “From what I’ve seen so far, we’re dealing with a small terrorist group, either Slovakian or Ukrainian, and they’re not all that well trained.”
“It’s not them that worry me, though we both know better than to underestimate anyone with a blind passion and an AK-47. I’m talking about the Americans. Karl was telling me about a man who was arrested last night after an attack in the park near the President Hotel, a man who you arranged to be released into our custody.”
“Yes. Has he decided to talk?” Marta replied.
“From what we’re told, he was working for the CIA, sent to slow down Mr. Nash and company, so they could find his wife before he did.”
“To what end?” Marta asked.
“Are you sure they weren’t sent to kill us, instead of merely slowing us down?” Donovan asked.
“I’m sure,” Kristof replied. “Another team was working on finding your wife. They were found killed in Slovakia, probably by the people who now have your wife. They were murdered in a way that allows the Slovakian authorities to suspect your wife of the murders. I would strongly suggest she never return to Slovakia—ever.”
“We know where she’s being held, and once we have her, we’re headed straight for Vienna,” Marta said. “It’s a simple in and out.”
“There’s more.” Kristof raised his hand. “Before he stopped talking, the man from the park gave us the name of his contact here in Budapest. Our associates, in turn, spoke with that individual. A name did come from that interview. Does the name Kirkpatrick mean anything to either of you?”
“I know that name. He’s CIA at Langley, and he’s mine.” Donovan remembered his thoughts of dealing with Kirkpatrick after all of this was finished. Kristof’s words poured gasoline on that particular fire and now that task became a vow.
“The United States government has a long reach,” Kristof warned. “I followed most of your antics today by seeing it on television. A running battle between a civilian helicopter and two SUVs through downtown Budapest made for spectacular footage, and it’s being played and replayed globally. I promise you’ve got the attention of the entire world. I’d remove the word simple from anything you plan to do.”
“Dad,” Marta said frowning. “Did you take your medication today?”
“No, I needed to travel, and have my wits about me. It’ll wait.”
“You know how much pain you’re going to end up in later.” An expression of sympathy came to Marta’s face. “Why don’t you have Karl take you to the apartment? I promise I can handle the rest of this, and then Mr. Nash can be on his way, and you and I can talk.”
“The pain he
lps me focus,” Kristof gestured to Karl and stepped away from the trunk. “I brought a few things you’ll need.”
Donovan heard the latch release and the armor-plated trunk opened hydraulically. The space was full of various wooden boxes, high-impact plastic cases, and a white paper bag that smelled like food.
Kristof leaned in and handed Karl the food and then motioned Michael, Trevor, and Montero to come closer. “We’ll get to dinner in a minute.”
As Marta sprung the lids on two metal cases, Donovan leaned closer and saw a cache of weapons. There were at least six assault rifles, two long rifles fitted with scopes, an assortment of handguns, and several sawed-off twelve-gauge shotguns. In the second case was box after box of ammunition.
“What’s in those smaller cases?” Montero asked.
“Kristof,” Donovan stepped back to make introductions. “This is Montero, Michael, and our pilot, Trevor. Everyone, this is Marta’s father, Kristof, our benefactor.”
“Nice to meet you,” Michael said, as he and Trevor both shook Kristof’s hand.
“Holy crap,” Montero said as she flashed a knowing smile at Kristof, and then leaned in, picked up one of the assault rifles. She turned to give Marta a perplexed look. “The Israelis are still developing this model. How did you get these?”
“Around. Check these out.” With a shrug, Marta removed a small black case from one of the ammunition boxes, held it flat in her hand, and opened it for Montero.
“You are shitting me!” Montero said, wide-eyed. “Governmentgrade Blackphones? These aren’t—I mean, most people don’t even know they exist. How did you?”
“I’m glad you’re familiar with them. They’re active, encrypted, satellite capable, and if you need them to, they’ll scramble themselves and short out. Take this one. We’ll need to stay in touch. As for the weapons, I believe you still have the one we borrowed from Karl. Feel free to take another one for yourself.” To the group, Marta said, “I want everyone to be well armed. Pick what feels right, load it, and be ready. They’re all untraceable. If you fire it, feel free to dump it anywhere.”
Donovan picked out a .45 caliber Colt 1911. He liked how it fit his hand. He shot a glance at Kristof who was fully engaged in discussion with Montero.
“Nice choice.” Marta placed a box of bullets in Donovan’s hand. “This model is one of Dad’s favorites. He has several in his personal collection.”
“I know,” Donovan said quietly. “He’s the one who let me shoot one for the first time. I have to ask—the fact that he’s here is remarkable. What did you whisper to him this morning?”
“I told him if something happened to him, you were going to be all that I had—the only link to the man my father had been, a link that could extend to his yet unborn grandchildren.” Marta stood on her tiptoes and kissed Donovan on both cheeks. “Dad and I have to go now. We’ve been over the plan, and you know exactly what’s going to happen.”
“I’ll update you as soon as Calvin has another satellite in place.” Donovan hated being left behind, but at this point, he had no other option.
“Perfect, but regardless of what Calvin finds, my men and I are going in as soon as it’s dark. I’ll see you as soon as the farmhouse is secured.” Marta stepped away and Donovan glanced out the open warehouse door at the sun perched in the western sky. Waiting for nightfall was going to feel like an eternity. He heard Montero and Trevor confirming the few remaining details with Marta as she powered up the secure phones. Donovan took the opportunity to approach Kristof who was standing next to the open rear door of the Mercedes waiting for his daughter to join him.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” Donovan told Kristof, wishing he could read his friend’s thoughts.
“I didn’t do any of this for you,” Kristof said. “I did it for Marta. If you let anything happen to her, I’ll kill you—are we clear?”
Donovan felt his jaw clench, he didn’t like to be threatened, he didn’t care who it came from. “One dead man killing another dead man? That should prove interesting.”
“I’m not dead yet.”
“I’m sorry I deserted you all those years ago. I’m sorry that I appeared out of nowhere and made you so angry. It was never my intention, and if it means anything—I have missed you, Kristof. Again, I’m sorry, and once this is over I’ll vanish again if that’s your wish.”
“We’ll see how all of this turns out, won’t we? In my experience, people around you seem to suffer.”
“Are you ready?” Marta came around and helped her father into the car. She kissed Donovan on the cheek once again, then they sped out of the warehouse.
Michael, Trevor, and Montero were already opening up the grocery bags. Karl had brought a huge selection of deli sandwiches, energy bars, and bottled water. Everyone but Donovan ate.
“I haven’t really had a chance to talk to you since yesterday. I know there’s a lot going on, some of it I don’t understand,” Michael said with his mouth full. “Maybe you could start by telling us about Marta. Our twenty-something consultant who looks like a pop star, and might be a tad on the overly aggressive side.”
“Don’t underestimate her,” Donovan said. “When she told you she was the equivalent of a private investigator, she was stretching the truth a little. She’s a specially trained undercover operative. I know very little about her, and if the truth be known, I’d prefer not to know any more. I reached out to her father, who as you all could see has been ill, and as a favor, she volunteered to help me find Lauren. To be honest, I didn’t ask a lot of questions, and I think it’s best if none of us do. I want my wife back, and they seem to be making that happen.”
“Fair enough. I’m not sure we could break any more Hungarian laws after today,” Michael said. “I, for one, am ready to get out of here, and knowing you, I’m impressed how you’re holding up under the stress of having to sit and wait.”
“I don’t seem to have a choice,” Donovan said, feeling an up-welling of affection for his closest friend. “I am glad you’re here. How’s the hand? Can you shoot left handed?”
“I can with the sawed-off shotgun I found in the trunk.”
“Trevor,” Donovan asked. “Talk to me about jumping the border and flying to Vienna.”
“It’s a piece of cake,” Trevor said using his hands to illustrate. “We fly low over the border, then pop up over a small airport as if we just took off, and then proceed like we own the joint. But I hate to tell you, your helicopter is far too hot for us to land at any commercial airport. I was thinking we wipe it for prints and leave it somewhere remote, preferably on fire. I hope you’re insured, because you’re going to want to report it stolen.”
“I like the fire idea,” Montero offered. “It’ll destroy any DNA evidence.”
“Fire it is,” Donovan nodded, unconcerned about the helicopter. “What are the provisions if we have wounded?”
“Two options,” Trevor explained. “If it’s really serious, we can drop off and go. There are three different hospitals in Budapest that have helipads. Then we alert the embassy on our way out and head for Austria. If it’s not so serious, being it’s dark, we maybe could pull off a drop and go at the President hotel. They did a nice job on Michael.”
“How are you set for fuel?” Michael asked.
“I’m going to say we’ve got two hours and forty-five minutes until dry tanks. We’ve more than enough to get to the pick-up point, and then off to Vienna. But I suggest we stick to that program. I haven’t seen the telly, but I doubt there’s anywhere in Eastern Europe we can stop and buy fuel. So, at this point, our chopper is like one of those disposable lighters. When it’s out of fuel you throw it in the bin.”
Donovan’s phone rang. Calvin. “Tell me we’re back in business.”
“We’re in position,” Calvin announced. “But there’s bad news. One of the BMW’s is gone.”
“I was afraid of that.” Donovan closed his eyes, the jolt felt as if he’d just been stabbed. “Infrared? Can you t
ell us how many people are in the house?”
“No, not yet. Though, it’s possible later, as the house cools.”
“How long is this satellite overhead?” Donovan asked.
“We’ll have a four-hour window, a ninety minute gap, and then another four hour window.”
“I would have thought there’d be twenty-four hour coverage of this part of the world,” Donovan said, more thinking out loud than asking an actual question.
“Oh, there is, but these are the only ones I can personally re-task without asking permission. Even so, I’m taking some risks.”
“Thank you, Calvin. We wouldn’t be anywhere if it weren’t for you.” Donovan didn’t know what else to say.
“Do me a favor,” Calvin asked. “When you get her, let me know.”
Donovan turned to the others. “That was Calvin. We have satellite coverage again. One of the BMWs is gone—and we don’t know where it went.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LAUREN HEARD CHAIR legs scooting against the wooden floor accompanied by the sound of clattering dishes. Dinner was over. There was more conversation, laughter. As best Lauren could figure, there were seven of them. She stiffened when she heard the footfalls coming down the hall. A light switch was flipped, and a single bulb illuminated the shabby room. Lauren blinked at the sudden change in brightness. Leaning in the doorway was the driver, the man who’d zip-tied her ankles to the chair. He drew his knife from its scabbard and held the blade up to the light, as if admiring the edge.
“Aleksander left me in charge, and he asked me to do him a favor,” the man said in halting but passable English. “He wanted me to begin your, how did he say it? Your slow death, by returning the favor for the wound you inflicted on him.”
Lauren pushed down her terror as he smiled and came toward her. As he closed the distance, Lauren, only secured to the chair by her feet, sprang upward from her knees and drove the top of her head into the unsuspecting man’s face. With her hands cuffed behind her back, she lost her balance and toppled sideways, unable to break her fall. He staggered backward. His free hand shot to his bleeding nose. Furious, he shook his head as if to clear his vision and then came for her.
Pegasus Down: A Donovan Nash Thriller (Donovan Nash Thrillers) Page 17
