Terror Cell (Danforth Saga Book 2)

by Joseph Badal

  Sex this morning had rejuvenated his spirit and given him hope that maybe there was a future for them. But those feelings were long forgotten as he watched rescue workers dig into the rubble and emergency vehicles cart bodies away. Somewhere in the remains of the building were the bodies of his fellow agents, Rodney Townsend, Cyril Bridewell, and Marcus Swinton. And another twelve secretaries, clerks, and analysts. All gone, because of some asshole terrorist group.

  Vassa Markeson lay in her tub, surrounded by bubbles. She wanted the hot water to wash away the disgust she felt. Screwing Stanton was like fucking a walrus. But her orders were to protect him until Greek Spring had no further use for him. As long as she could funnel the information she pulled out of Stanton to her contacts with the terrorist group, her husband was more valuable to the group alive than dead. But a dead Stanton Markeson, Vassa knew, would make her one of the wealthiest women in Greece. That was her ultimate goal.

  The telephone rang. Vassa picked up the wireless handset from the edge of the tub. She listened to her old lover tell her what he wanted her to do.

  “You don’t want much, do you?” she said, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. It had been a long time since she’d killed anyone. She’d missed it.

  “I understand your concern, Vassa, but this is important. If you don’t succeed, it could be our ruin.”

  Idiot, she thought. I’m not concerned; I’m so damned excited I could piss myself. “I want something in return,” she said.

  Argyropoulos didn’t respond.

  “Did you hear me?” Vassa asked.

  “I heard you. What do you want?”

  “I want to be rid of my husband. I’ll do what you want; but only if you take care of my problem.”

  Argyropoulos was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he sounded angry. “All right, my dear; but you must perform first. You take care of my problem, and I will take care of yours.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  AUGUST 6, 2004

  Bob left Liz, Michelle Fratangelo, and her son Andrew at the hospital after Sam Goodwin and Stacey Frederick arrived to stand guard. Bob had called them and ordered them to come armed to the hospital. He wasn’t going to take any chances. He would have preferred to leave Tony at the hospital, too; but Tony had borrowed a pair of crutches from the emergency room and insisted on joining him.

  “There’s no way I’m going to let you go anywhere in this city without backup,” Tony had argued.

  After what Tony had done to save his and Liz’s lives, Bob didn’t have the heart to argue with him. Bob drove to the Prime Minister’s office. American Ambassador James Finch was waiting outside the building. Although the original plan had been to exclude the ambassador, events of that day had changed things.

  Finch, accompanied by Grady McMasters and two uniformed Greek guards armed with automatic weapons, looked worried as he came over to Bob and Tony as soon as they exited their automobile.

  “You guys all right?” the Ambassador asked, while the guards led them into the building, moving slowly in deference to Tony’s walking with crutches.

  “Yeah, thanks, we’re fine,” Bob said. He pointed at Tony and added, “Tony’s a bit worse for wear.”

  Finch shook his head. “And Mrs. Danforth?” he asked.

  “She’ll be okay,” Bob answered. “She’s at the hospital now getting patched up.” He met Finch’s gaze and said, “You sure you want to be here? This could get tense to the point that you may never be welcome here again.”

  Finch’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. “I want the Greek Government to know we’re taking this terrorism business seriously. Today’s attacks escalated things to another level. No more screwing around, no more willingness to put up with the Greek Government’s ambivalence and incompetence when it comes to these terrorists. I’m going to tell the Prime Minister that as soon as we’re through here this morning, I will call the President and ask him to beef up our presence here, including ATF, more FBI, DEA, and, of course, the Agency.”

  Bob looked over at McMasters, then back at Finch. He realized that Finch was right. “Sounds good to me. How do you want to do this?”

  “I’ll run the meeting,” Finch said. “I know the Prime Minister. I know just how hard to push him. I’m going to tell him I want you and Grady McMasters in the loop on everything Greek law enforcement is doing regarding the terrorists. And, I’m going to tell him I personally want a daily report on the investigation into this professor mentioned in the wiretap on that Piraeus apartment.”

  “What about the threat of pulling our team from the Olympics?” Bob asked.

  “I’ll use it if I feel it’s necessary. But I suspect you’ll agree that it won’t do us any good in the world of public opinion. I think Jimmy Carter did the U.S. more harm than good when he pulled our team from the Olympic Games in Russia after the Soviets invaded Afghanistan.”

  Bob nodded. “Yeah, I agree, up to a point. But Greece isn’t Russia. This country is barely surviving from an economic basis. If we pull our team, and a dozen other large countries follow suit, Greece could suffer in a big way. It’s one hell of an axe to hold over their heads.”

  “We’ll see,” Finch said. “I suspect we won’t need to use the threat.”

  “It’s your call,” Bob said, as they entered the reception area to the Prime Minister’s office.

  At that moment, a handsome, dark-haired, olive-complected man dressed in a blue pinstriped suit entered the reception area and approached Finch.

  “Mr. Ambassador, I am so pleased to see you. Please accept my regrets for the terrible incident that occurred this morning. Thank God none of your people were killed. How are they?”

  Finch shook the man’s hand, and then pointed at Bob. “Prime Minister Ierides, this is Mr. Robert Danforth. He and his wife were the targets of the terrorist attack this morning.” He then pointed at Tony and mentioned that the Fratangelo family was on the scene at the time of the attack and that Tony had been injured.

  The Prime Minister walked over to Bob, then Tony, shook their hands, and expressed his condolences. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do for your families,” he said.

  Bob nodded. Tony gave no response. Bob noticed that Ambassador Finch did not mention that Tony and he were with the CIA.

  “Please come into my office,” Prime Minister Ierides said, turning and proceeding the group of men into a spacious, richly appointed room. A twenty foot by twenty foot Persian carpet covered the floor. The chairs and a sofa were plush. A massive mahogany desk sat at one end of the room. Dark blue velvet drapes were open, revealing three banks of windows and a spectacular view of the Acropolis. The sun’s rays streamed into the room, backlighting a man standing in front of the middle set of windows.

  “Ambassador Finch, you have met Deputy Prime Minister Argyropoulos,” the Prime Minister said.

  “Of course, it’s good to see you again,” Finch said. He then introduced Bob and Tony to the Greek Deputy Prime Minister.

  The Prime Minister asked everyone to sit down. “It was Dimitris who informed me of the attack this morning,” the Prime Minister said. “We are both very upset about what happened and will do all in our power to bring the criminals who were behind this to justice.”

  Bob looked at Argyropoulos while the Prime Minister spoke. Unlike the Prime Minister, Argyropoulos didn’t appear to be particularly upset. In fact, he looked downright bored.

  “We thank you for your concern,” Finch said in a flat, unemotional tone, “but with all due respect, that isn’t enough, Mr. Prime Minister. Since 1975, your government’s expressions of concern are all that have been forthcoming as a result of a long string of attacks against Americans.” He paused, then said in a hard voice, “Including nine murders.” Finch’s expression was menacing. He looked directly into the Prime Minister’s eyes, his gaze never wavering. Bob enjoyed watch
ing the Prime Minister become more and more uncomfortable by the second as Finch spoke with the full force and effect of the United States Government behind him. The ambassador paused for several seconds, then began speaking again.

  “These gentlemen with me today are only the beginning of a contingent of law enforcement personnel from the United States who are going to be in Greece until Greek Spring, and every other terrorist organization, is eradicated. We will accept no more excuses.”

  “I understand your country’s frustration over our inability to identify these terrorists,” the Prime Minister said, “but Greece is a sovereign country. You have no right to infiltrate my country with American agents.”

  “Infiltrate?” Finch said. “We’re not infiltrating anyone into your country. We’re going to openly flood Greece with agents of every federal law enforcement organization. If you object to the United States assisting your country in its investigation of these terrorist groups, then my government must come to the conclusion that you, your administration, and your country are not serious about stopping these murderous attacks. If that is the case, Mr. Prime Minister, I will be forced to recommend to the President that he immediately declare Greece a terrorist state and ban all Americans from traveling to your country.” Again Finch paused for a few seconds. He then added, “And I assure you there are another dozen or so countries prepared to do the same.”

  The Prime Minister had remained remarkably calm during Finch’s speech. His complexion had reddened slightly. But Bob noticed that Deputy Prime Minister Argyropoulos appeared to be extremely agitated. His face had gone scarlet and his mouth was set in a grim, lipless line. The man fidgeted in his chair and the look in his eyes was hateful. Bob would loved to have placed a bet on how long it would take Argyropoulos to blow. He guessed no more than thirty seconds.

  The Prime Minister slowly rose to his feet. The others in the room stood as well. “You have made your position quite clear, Mr. Ambassador. I will take your comments under advisement and get back to you by no later than this afternoon with our reaction. I appreciate your candor and your concern. Hopefully, we will be able to resolve this situation to our mutual satisfaction.”

  “I look forward to hearing from you, Mr. Prime Minister,” Finch answered.

  The Americans began to leave the room, when Argyropoulos suddenly shouted, “How dare you threaten this government!”

  The Americans turned to face Argyropoulos.

  Right on schedule, Bob thought. Just about thirty seconds.

  “You come in here and insult the leader of my country. You treat us as though Greece is some petty principality which has to kneel before your country—”

  “That’s enough, Dimitris,” Ierides said, his face now at least as red as Argyropoulos’ face.

  “No, this must be said,” Argyropoulos growled. “These Americans come in here with their CIA spies”—he pointed first at Bob, and then at Tony—“and pretend they want to stop the terrorists. But what they really want is to once again take over our country, just like they did in 1967. I will never—”

  “I said that’s enough,” the Prime Minister said, his voice vibrating with anger. He turned to Finch and said, “My apologies, Mr. Ambassador, to you and your associates.”

  “Apology accepted, Mr. Prime Minister,” Finch said as he turned back to the door and led the American contingent from the office.

  Like a squad leader, Finch walked down the hall to the elevators, Bob and Tony in line behind him. Tony did his best to keep up on his crutches. No one said a word until they left the building and the ambassador’s car pulled up to the front. Finch looked at each man in turn. “I think that was a particularly productive meeting,” he said. He smiled and added, “I’ll get back to you gentlemen after the Prime Minister contacts me later today. I will ask him what they’re going to do about finding this professor character and his pink house.” He looked at Bob and said, “And I sure as hell want to know what they’re going to do with the guy the police carted away after the attack on you this morning.”

  The ambassador entered the back of his limo and was whisked away. Bob watched the car pull away, then told Tony, “It looks as though the first round of our counterattack was just fired.”

  Tony smiled. “Sure looks that way. I’m beginning to like the ambassador.”

  “You agree with Finch?” Bob asked. “About the meeting upstairs being productive?”

  “Absolutely,” Tony answered, “don’t you?”

  “Of course,” Bob said with a smile. “I suspect that was the first time any American has talked to any high level Greek politician the way Finch just did. I’ll bet you a bottle of retsina that the Prime Minister’s call to Finch this afternoon will be very constructive. But our meeting was worthwhile in a completely different way.”

  Tony shot Bob a quizzical look. “How so?”

  “How did Argyropoulos know we’re CIA?”

  “Sonofabitch,” Tony said

  “Yeah, sonofabitch,” Bob said.

  “How would he know?”

  Bob hunched his shoulders.

  “You don’t suspect that the Deputy Prime Minister is in cahoots with the terrorists?”

  “I suspect everyone,” Bob said. “Remember what your informant, Michael Griffas, said: ‘He knows . . . my boss knows.’ He could have been referring to the Prime Minister, or some supervisor within the Prime Minister’s office. Or he very well could have been speaking of Argyropoulos.”

  “It’s my understanding that the Prime Minister and the Deputy Prime Minister share much of the same staff,” Tony said.

  “And, as Deputy Prime Minister,” Bob added, “Argyropoulos probably has access to every bit of information the Greeks have about the terrorists, and about every step the Greek authorities are about to take against them.”

  “Sounds like we need to dig into Argyropoulos’ background,” Tony said.

  “Sounds like one hell of an idea,” Bob said.

  As they walked to their car, Bob had another thought. He would call Ambassador Finch and share his suspicions with him.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  AUGUST 6, 2004

  The call from Prime Minister Ierides went as well as Ambassador Finch could have anticipated. Ierides started off by again expressing his regrets over the attack on the Danforths and the injuries to Mrs. Danforth and Mr. Fratangelo, and he apologized for the Deputy Prime Minister’s outburst. Then he told Finch that he and his country would welcome all the assistance the Americans could provide. They discussed what the government was doing to try to identify the professor in the pink house and also the interrogation of the terrorist who was under guard in the hospital.

  “What’s the man’s condition?” Finch asked.

  “He’s barely conscious and in a lot of pain. The doctors have him so pumped up with painkillers that he’s not lucid enough to answer any questions yet. It’s going to be a few days before we can get anything out of him. I’ve put Deputy Prime Minister Argyropoulos in charge of the investigation into the attack on the Danforths. You should have no concerns going forward about my administration’s commitment to identify and capture these killers.”

  Finch’s stomach cramped. Bob Danforth’s telephone call had been on Finch’s mind all afternoon. Argyropoulos’ comment about Danforth and Fratangelo being with the CIA could have been nothing more than guesswork, but something about the man’s comments during the meeting in the Prime Minister’s office told him there was something more than a lucky guess at work here.

  After he finished talking with the Prime Minister, Finch called Bob and told him what the Prime Minister had said.

  “If my instincts are correct, Mr. Ambassador, I think the Prime Minister just put the fox in charge of the chicken coop.”

  “Be careful, Mr. Danforth,” Finch said. “Despite my tone in the meeting at the Prime Minister’s office, we’re s
till dealing with the popularly elected government of a country that is important to our geopolitical strategy. How long do you think our relationship with Greece would last if we falsely accused the number two man in the Greek Government?”

  ***

  Bob assigned Stacey Frederick and Sam Goodwin the job of checking into Dimitris Argyropoulos’ background. They had a tough job ahead of them. There was no way they could use their contacts inside the Greek Government out of fear that word would get back to Argyropoulos. Stacey came up with the idea of using one of the Agency-friendly reporters working for the French News Agency, Renee Deschamps, to get the information they needed. Deschamps agreed to call Argyropoulos’ office to get his permission to do a story on his rise in the Greek political hierarchy. Argyropoulos was so excited about the prospect of his story being distributed to the international press that he agreed to meet with the reporter the next morning.

  Bob, Stacey, and Sam briefed Deschamps about the questions the reporter was to ask Argyropoulos.

  “Remember,” Bob said, “ask him if he was involved with politics when he was a student, who his associates were back then. We need to get him to divulge these associates’ names and their contact information. Also, ask if he ever spent time overseas.”

  “Overseas?” Deschamps asked.

  Bob nodded. “Do your best to find out if he spent any time in either France and/or in any of the former Soviet bloc nations.”

  “Tres bien,” Deschamps said, but the look on his face said he was confused.