The Golden Fleece Affair (From The Files Of Lady Dru Drummond Book 2)

by CW Hawes

  We talked about the civil war. Olga, Boris, Katya, and Dina were against the Soviets mostly because they had all suffered family members killed due to Stalin. None of them were particularly in favor of the Czarists. They would prefer a republic. Dina hoped the Georgians would once again be independent, something they hadn’t been for over one hundred and forty years.

  When the talk about the war had more or less run its course, I announced, “Today is the sixty-fifth birthday of Adolf Hitler.” Dunyasha, Branson, and the Hall Media staff looked at me with puzzled faces. Franzen had a slight smile.

  To confuse them further, I stood, raised my glass, and said, “To der Führer des Groβdeutschen Reiches.” I would have added a “Heil Hitler!”, but I didn’t want to overplay my hand.

  Elsa stood, raised her arm in the Nazi salute, and said, “Heil Hitler!”

  Franzen slowly stood and touched glasses with me. “To the Führer,” he said.

  Elsa also raised her glass and said, “Möge der Himmel der Führer zu segnen.”

  Dunyasha, in her characteristic brusqueness, said when I sat down, “When the hell did you become a Nazi, Dru?”

  Branson said nothing. Just watched me. Malz and his staff, other than Elsa, were clearly flummoxed by my toast and didn’t say or do anything.

  In reply to Dunyasha’s question, I said, “I’m not, you know that. But why not toast a great man on his birthday? Especially one who has provided so much help to the Czarist cause and who has worked tirelessly to root out Communism?”

  Dunyasha frowned. The Soviet citizens on Mr Hall’s payroll were thoughtful. Elsa, though, was all smiles.

  “Yes,” she said, “he is a good man who wants all Germans to live together under one enlightened leader.”

  Franzen said, “Indeed. The Führer is a great leader. Germany is the most advanced nation on earth due to his leadership. The Communist blight will soon be exterminated and Senator McCarthy will be able to stop his witch hunt, which unfortunately has taken down the good with the bad.”

  Dunyasha replied, “I doubt Hitler wants an independent Russia. Whoever wins, will be a puppet of the Führer. Not my cup of tea.”

  Franzen replied, “Come now, Lady Bobrinsky, surely you would not begrudge the German government maintaining a watchful eye on any successor to the Communists to make sure German lives were not wasted in lifting the Soviet boot from off the neck of the Russian people. Would you?”

  Olga said, “I want my children safe. No more Stalin.”

  There were general murmurs around the table in agreement with her.

  Dunyasha brought the subject back to Franzen’s position, “Governments do nothing for free. Sometimes the price that must be paid is not worth the service provided.”

  Branson concurred, “Everything has its cost. It all depends if we want to pay it.”

  Franzen was getting worked up, “Lenin and Stalin did nothing except butcher the Russian people, starting with the murder of the Czar and his family. Stalin’s meager attempts to make Russia a modern country have not helped the poor worker who is still poor. Under the Führer’s enlightened leadership, workers have money and can buy goods. Germany is an economic powerhouse and is the envy of the world. Wouldn’t you all want the same for Russia? To end the backwardness of this great nation?”

  I think I had my answer. Franzen was indeed a true believer. Now the only questions that remained were was he a spy and did he engineer the deaths of Denham and Pond?

  A buzzer sounded and Olga excused herself to see who had entered. In a few moments, she ushered into our room Delta and Charlie teams. We broke the news to them of Private Denham’s death and probably also that of Elmer Pond.

  Kit Somers was visibly shaken. He said, “Pond was my mentor and my friend. No one nicer.” Klara went to him and put her arms around him.

  Sergeant Sax didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His face showed his grief. Corporal Hill and Privates Milano and Ajax were also visibly moved. They said Denham had been a great guy and was always dependable. He was someone you could count on.

  Doctor Rodman went to Franzen. “Oh, Wilbur,” she said, “I’m so very glad you were able to escape.” She even gave him a kiss on the cheek. I noticed he looked uncomfortable and blushed.

  Everyone was present, except for Alpha team, which meant I was in charge for the moment. I wanted to verify Franzen’s story. If it didn’t hold up, that meant we had a potential murderer as well as a spy in our group.

  “I’m glad you are all here,” I said. “We have information the fleece is in the President’s residence and I want to send some volunteers with Professor Franzen to recover the bodies of our friends.”

  Kit, Sax, Hill, Milano, and Ajax volunteered.

  “Good. Professor Franzen, you will guide these men who volunteered to where you were captured. If possible, retrieve the bodies. If not, bury them if you can. If our equipment is still there, retrieve that as well.”

  Branson said, “I’ll go too.”

  “Very good, Mr Branson,” I said. “If you all can leave now, that would be best. Get yourselves something to eat, though, before you leave. Return here as soon as you possibly can.”

  Kit, Sax, Hill, Milano, and Ajax got some food and drink into them. The Army fellows also took some with them to eat on the way and then the seven left. Franzen wasn’t pleased. However, he didn’t put up a fuss. My guess is because he knew doing so would draw more attention to him and no spy likes attention. So he played along.

  I was fairly certain Franzen was working for the Nazis. I had suspicions about Branson, that Neratoff may have gotten to him. Even though thus far there was nothing concrete. He is close to Mr Hall. Then there are others who are also close to Mr Hall. Closeness doesn’t mean one’s hand is in the cookie jar. There was also Mafeking Smith. Man about the world. In possession of a secret German weapon, did that mean he, too, was working for the Nazis? And if he is working for the Nazis, does that mean he and Franzen are working for two different departments and are therefore in competition with each other? That is a possibility. I know Mr Hall apparently trusts Mafeking as he has worked with him in the past. The professors, though, aren’t impressed by him. For myself, he strikes me as someone who is dedicated to his passions. And near as I can tell, Mr Smith’s passions are antiquities and money. However, they might not be in that order.

  Lunch ended and the office staff went about their business.

  What I really wanted was to talk to Karl. Alone. Plan what to do next. In Karl’s absence, I decided to discuss the situation with Dunyasha. Klara and Doctor Rodman were still in the conference room.

  I said to Dunyasha, “Would you like to go for a walk and stretch your legs?”

  She cocked a quizzical eyebrow and said, “Sure, why not?”

  We descended the stairs and went outside. I crossed the street and she crossed with me. Together, we walked down the street a ways from the office.

  “My, my, Dru. So secretive.”

  “I need your opinion and I don’t want any ears listening.”

  “Okay. Talk.”

  A car pulled up and three men got out.

  “Run, Dru!”

  Both of us took off running. We had not gotten very far before two of the burly brutes succeeded in grabbing both Dunyasha and me. I punched my attacker and he smacked the side of my head so hard I staggered and saw stars. Dunyasha was thrown in the back seat, followed by yours truly, and then the brute who hit me got in. Dunyasha was on one side of me and the brute on the other. He had a pistol pointing at me.

  Dunyasha looked half out of it and I was woozy. There was the driver, a man in the passenger seat, and the man in the back with us. The man in the passenger seat also had a gun. The driver probably did as well, but his hands were on the steering wheel.

  I touched the side of Dunyasha’s face, which was turning red and purple. She winced and groaned. My own head hurt like hell. We’d just been kidnapped. That much was obvious. By whom, was the real question,
as well as where were they taking us. I didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out the answer to either question, really.

  “Dunyasha. Can you hear me?”

  She groaned something. The guy next to me said something in Russian and nudged me with his pistol. I slapped it away. Not expecting my reaction, he dropped it. I reached down, pulled my revolver from the ankle holster and fired at the man in the front passenger seat. The brute next to me, grabbed the wrist of my hand that had the revolver and with his other hand grabbed my neck. He was a big man, with big hands, and I knew I was not long for this world. He squeezed my neck and I couldn’t breathe. I dropped the revolver.

  Dunyasha burst into action. I don’t know if she just revived or had been faking her incapacity. With both hands she grabbed the driver’s chin and pulled hard, up and back. His foot jammed the accelerator and his hands left the steering wheel. The car careened out of control and ploughed into a house. The impact jarred my attacker and he lost his grip. Dunyasha jammed the fingers of one hand into his throat and a finger of the other hand into one of his eyes. He was gasping for breath. I suppose that is why he didn’t howl over his eye.

  “Let’s go, Dru.”

  Unfortunately, her door wouldn’t open. I retrieved my revolver and the pistol belonging to the fellow gasping for breath and gave it to Dunyasha. She tried rolling down the window, but it jammed. She smashed it with the pistol. We crawled out of the car through the broken window. Our kidnappers hadn’t gotten far. Perhaps a kilometer at the most. Dunyasha fired into the car, putting the brute gasping for breath out of his misery. She also made sure the other two weren’t going to be talking anytime this side of eternity.

  We knew people were watching; however, with a pistol having been fired, no crowd gathered. We ran a couple blocks before slowing down to a walk.

  “Well, Dru, as you were saying before we were so rudely interrupted?”

  I burst out laughing and Dunyasha joined me. We stopped quite abruptly as laughing hurt too much.

  “God, I feel like shit,” Dunyasha said.

  “And you look it,” I said.

  “You likewise,” she replied.

  “And feel like it.”

  “Dru, promise me, when we’re finished with this, the most adventurous thing you’ll do is go shopping for a hat or shoes?”

  “Dunyasha, you know I can’t promise that and keep it.”

  “Mother of God, you’ll be the death of me.”

  I took her hand in mine. “I thought you were the partisan fighter?”

  “You would have to bring that up.” She sighed. “I was. I’m tired of that shit now and too old. I just want to buy a new hat, or a new dress, and drink martinis all day. With you, Dru. That is what I want now.”

  “Maybe I’ll take some time off after this and you and I can do that.”

  “I hope you will. Now what did you want to tell me?”

  I told her I suspected Franzen’s story to be a fabrication and that he was really a Nazi spy. I also told her my suspicions about Mafeking and my concern that Branson might be the mole in Hall’s organization for the Czarists.

  “Plausible,” was her reply. “All of it. We need facts. In the meantime we probably want to limit the information those folks have access to. Possibly even feed them false information and see what happens.”

  “I think that is a good plan. I’ll talk to Karl when he checks in.”

  When we got back to Hall Media, we found Alpha team had arrived. Our kidnapping had been witnessed and everyone was jubilant we had made it back alive. A little worse for wear, but we were back. We filled in those present with the details of our escape and then updated Karl, Mafeking, and Zholkov on the deaths of Pond and Denham and my sending volunteers back to the scene to confirm the information. Karl in particular, I noticed, was deeply affected by the news. He displays little emotion. Which means nothing. On his face were all the little tell-tale signs of a deeply felt grief. I also knew from how he looked at me, he was very concerned over how things were playing out on our assignment.

  Karl updated us on the information they had gathered. Mr Zholkov’s fluency in Georgian was an asset and ended up paying big dividends. The language and a few bribes gained us what we needed to know. Everyone has his or her price. Sometimes it just isn’t in money. It is a rather comforting thought. Of course it can be discomforting, as well.

  Per the information Zholkov obtained, the fleece is indeed in the office of the president of the nascent Free Georgian Republic. There is a twenty-four hour guard. When the president isn’t in his office, the fleece is locked in a safe. When he is, he either wears it or it hangs on a potted tree near his desk.

  Branson, Kit Somers, Franzen, and the Army fellows returned. We listened to their report. They had indeed found the bodies of Elmer Pond and Private Billy Denham. Branson made sure he brought back the identification papers for Pond and Denham and Denham’s dog tags. They buried them in makeshift graves. Karl updated the men on Zholkov’s information. Kit said his team had received essentially the same information. Since teams Echo, Delta, and Alpha had all obtained the same information and from different sources. It seemed likely to all of us that it was true.

  I was dying to ask Kit or Branson what either one’s impression was of the scene where Pond and Denham had died. Branson, instead, carried the conversation down a different road.

  “The number of guards. Do we know how many?” He asked.

  “Over a hundred GLA soldiers in the building,” Karl said. “There are four guards in the president’s office, another two outside his door, and four at each end of the corridor leading to his office.”

  “I think this is where we need Ernest,” Mafeking said.

  Kit asked, “Is there an elevator in the building?”

  “No,” Karl replied.

  “Where’s the president’s office located in the building?” I asked.

  “Second floor,” Karl said, then added with a twinkle in his eye, “American second floor, that is.”

  “Then the robot isn’t going to help us much,” Dunyasha said.

  “Au contraire,” Mafeking said with a smile. “Ernest will make short work of the Georgian defenses. Then we can enter, get the fleece, and leave.”

  “Before I make a decision on our next course of action,” Karl said, “I’d like to confer with Sergeant Sax, Mr Somers, Mr Branson, Lady Hurley-Drummond, and Lady Bobrinsky.”

  We went back upstairs to the conference room where we’d eaten lunch. I had a splitting headache and, from the look on Dunyasha’s face, she did as well. I had a feeling, though, we wouldn’t be getting much rest anytime soon. And I sure as hell wished I’d picked the conference room to talk with Dunyasha. Would have had to chase Klara and Elise out, but in retrospect it would have been worth the rudeness.

  When we were seated and Karl closed the door, he asked, “Lady Hurley-Drummond, Lady Bobrinsky, are you two alright? Will you be able to continue the mission?”

  “I’m fine, Karl,” I said, “I just have a nasty headache. I probably look a fright, though.”

  The men discreetly said nothing.

  “Likewise,” Dunyasha said.

  Karl’s face was skeptical, although he nodded and said, “Okay.”

  He continued, “We need to act quickly. Word is getting out where the fleece is located. Given Georgian resources, I doubt they will be able to endure a sustained attack. So the first question is Ernest. Do we use the robot?”

  Sergeant Sax was skeptical. “It’s powerful, alright. But it’s big. They’ll see it coming a mile away.”

  Kit said, “If we could get it in close to the house, we might have a chance. Otherwise, I agree with the Sergeant. Anyone seeing it coming will have too much time to prepare for its arrival.”

  “If they figure out it’s a weapon,” Dunyasha corrected. “We all know what it is. Although, if I didn’t, and I saw it coming down the street, in all honesty I’d be hard pressed to say it was a weapon until it starte
d destroying things. It looks more like some kind of tractor or something.”

  “I agree with Dunyasha,” I said. “I think we need to use Ernest. He’ll tip the odds of succeeding very much into our favor.”

  Karl said, “Okay. I’ll send Mr Smith and Corporal Hill to get Mr Shelsher and the robot. Now how best to get into the building?”

  Sergeant Sax said, “Both government buildings are heavily guarded. We are going to have to sneak in, I think.”

  “There are sixteen of us,” Branson said, “counting Shelsher and the robot. I think we divide into three teams: two of five each and one of six. The team of six should have the robot and make a frontal assault. The other two teams, when the attack occurs, will attempt to access the interior of the building from the rear and the roof.”

  “I like the idea,” Sax said.

  “How does the team get to the roof?” Dunyasha asked.

  “Running down the middle of the block is a walkway,” Branson replied. “Not wide enough to be an alley. The roof team will use a fire escape to get to the roof of a neighboring building. They will then make their way across to the roof of the president’s building. Hopefully there will be access to the building’s interior from the roof. If not, then the team will have to go over the side and in through a window on the top floor.”

  “Which is the president’s and his family’s living quarters,” Karl said.

  Sax concurred, “That sounds about the best we can do. Hopefully, as Branson pointed out, the team can get inside.”

  “I want to take Mrs Somers and Doctor Rodman out of the teams,” Karl said. “They have no combat experience and we are going to need people who are at least acquainted with a battle situation. Any objection?”