by Pro Se Press
He crouched and ran up the hill.
Chapter Four
In Vino Veritas
The closer The Eagle got to the cottage, the more sentries he noticed.
It was a smart strategy, he thought. Choke off the one approach route with an early warning guard, and then keep a tight orbit of men close to the prize.
Now The Eagle just needed to figure out where the Owl was holding the Doctor, free him, and bring him to safety.
Piece of cake.
He dropped to a prone position to observe.
***
An hour later, right on cue, he heard the explosion.
It was, perhaps, not the most elegant distraction, but it would do in a pinch.
Since the straight-ahead approach had not worked, Nico had implemented their secondary plan. The Eagle knew that his colleague had crafted an explosion with a long fuse, so as to be far enough away from the scene when the Owl’s guards arrived to investigate. He also knew that it would put the cottage guards on high alert, but nevertheless thin the herd, as several men would be dispatched to investigate.
And he was, as usual, correct.
He had a clear idea, based on the pattern of the guards and the lighting in the building, as to the likely location of Dr. Pappas. And now the side entrance – the closest one to his target -- was temporarily unguarded in the commotion.
The Eagle leapt into action.
Moving quickly, he reached the side of the building and pressed himself flat against the wall. He tried to estimate how much time he would have before a guard returned to this spot. Not much, he concluded.
And, after he escaped with the doctor, he would have even less time to reach the getaway truck. He had to act fast.
***
The Eagle entered the cottage but had little time to absorb the classic European ambience of it, filled as it was with vases and paintings, wrought iron fixtures and railings. He needed to climb the stairs quickly before a sentry happened to pass through the foyer, perhaps suspecting an intruder.
Without a sound, The Eagle scampered up the wrought iron, spiral staircase. The room he sought, he was sure, was at the top of these stairs.
But, apparently, so was yet another one of the Owl’s thugs -- dressed like the men from the alley, entirely in black – and guarding a particular door.
The man was on alert, but still, the sight of the sharp-dressed spy running up the stairs caught him by surprise. The Eagle took advantage of that momentary distraction to strike.
He leapt, throwing a forearm out to smash the thug in the throat. The other guards would hear the scuffle upstairs no doubt, but he would not allow the goon to call for help.
The brawny man went down, clutching his throat with his hands, in obvious pain. The Eagle, thinking quickly, reached out and grabbed one of the ornate, decorative vases from an end table.
He said a brief apology to the gods of Ancient Greece and brought the vase down with a sharp CRACK on the man’s skull.
The thug slumped to the ground, motionless.
It took seconds for The Eagle to find the ring of keys in the thug’s pocket, and to let himself into the room the man was guarding.
“Dr. Pappas, I presume,” The Eagle called out in his crisp baritone.
But as the figure in the room -- which was cluttered with an array of desks and notes and metal cylinders -- turned, The Eagle could see that his quest was not yet over.
For the small woman in the white lab coat was clearly not Dr. George Pappas.
***
“Who are you?” the woman in the lab coat cried out in perfect Italian. Fortunately, The Eagle was as proficient in that language as he was Greek.
“I am known as The Eagle, and I have come to perform a rescue. Though, I must admit, you were not the one I expected.”
She frowned. “You are here to rescue me?” She gathered up a handful of papers and pressed them to her chest. “What if I do not wish to be rescued? What if I call out for help?”
The Eagle took a step forward and gently grasped the woman by her shoulders. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back, and her dark eyes drank him in… steely in their resolve.
Keeping eye contact, he reached down, plucking the documents from her with one hand, showing her his gun in its shoulder holster -- where he had transferred it earlier -- with the other. “But you won’t,” he said firmly.
She nodded, her face impossible to read, and he continued. “I am looking for Dr. Pappas. I believed him to be here.”
“The Doctor? He is elsewhere. You found only his notes.” She indicated the clump of papers in The Eagle’s hand. “Impossible to decipher, I’ll warn you.”
“Not for me.” Taking his penknife, The Eagle slashed a hole in the lining of his jacket. He stashed the papers in the opening. It was not the perfect hiding place, but it would do in a pinch. And it would keep his hands free for his daring escape.
“But Pappas,” he pressed. “Where is he?”
“Already en route. Der Fuhrer could not wait any longer for my assessment of his work.”
Doctor Pappas was on his way to Nazi Germany this very moment. The Eagle could not let that happen.
He strode to the window, opening it and stepping out onto the ledge. “I suspect you’ll scream as soon as I am gone. I understand. But know this: I shall defeat the Owl, and when I do, everyone in his employ will suffer the same fate.”
And, with nothing more to say, he leapt.
***
It was only a short distance from the window to the hill below and The Eagle dropped into a practiced roll, landing with ease. He looked about, already planning his egress.
And then the shouting began.
The woman began yelling and pointing immediately, just as he suspected. Perhaps he could have knocked her unconscious, but he did see himself as a gentleman whenever possible.
But then the guards came. Fortunately, The Eagle was fluent in Greek, for he understood their shouts as they rushed onto the scene.
They were screaming “Get him!” not “Kill him!” An important distinction.
Then the gunfire started, bullets ripping into the ground before him, kicking up dirt and stones with barks and hisses, so he decided that even if death was not in the cards, perhaps his foes were willing to maim him.
He raised his hands and shouted his surrender.
Chapter Five
The Better Part of Valor
The guards descended on The Eagle, ripping his weapon from him, waving their own guns and shouting incessantly.
“Well boys, you caught me,” The Eagle proclaimed somewhat haughtily,
Three hairy goons stripped him of his jacket and hat, and then patted him down from head to toe to make certain The Eagle had no tricks up his sleeves (or pant legs).
“Come now, chaps. What kind of fellow do you think I am?”
Apparently none of them spoke English, but they did have a way of communicating with the butts of their rifles. Rather roughly, The Eagle was led away from the hillside and toward a waiting vehicle.
***
In short order, he was loaded into the back of the worn and dirty truck. It seemed to be a vehicle designed for transporting crates of wine. It had a hard top and a dirty set of curtains hanging over the tailgate. The Eagle had expected that the goons would interrogate him right there on the spot. After all, he’d been caught red-handed trespassing on the property of the notorious Il Gufo. Instead, they were taking him to parts unknown.
Shortly after binding his hands with rope, two black-clad guards trained their weapons on him in the back of the vehicle. Then the woman from the cottage joined them.
“Bongiorno!” The Eagle called out jovially. He continued in Italian, which he assumed to be her native tongue. “So very nice of you to join me… though if I had known to expect company… well I certainly would have spent more time cleaning and decorating. You must think me a horrible host.”
She cocked her head at an angle, indicating sh
e either wished to study his odd behavior or she felt sorry for him due to his obvious insanity.
In her hands she held his jacket. “Dr. Pappas went through a lot of trouble writing these notes for us. But he was smart. He wrote them in code so we could not take the information we needed and then kill him. I suspect you, Mr. Eagle, can break this code.”
“Why not give it to the Owlets! I assume that is what they call themselves. After all, they are in the employ of the infamous Italian smuggler, aren’t they?”
The two guards stared at The Eagle with ire and suspicion, but said nothing. They clearly had not understood the derisive comments he’d just made in Italian. They were just local muscle, which meant that someone with command of multiple languages was in charge of this aspect of the operation -- perhaps the very someone sitting next to him.
“Your job was to translate Pappas’ notes, but you never anticipated he’d outsmart you with a code.”
Her face clouded with embarrassment and anger warring for dominance.
“As we both know,” The Eagle continued, “these two marble heads speak no Italian. We can talk without fear of eavesdropping.”
“Silence!” The taller of the two goons shouted in Greek, gripping his rifle in what he clearly thought was a menacing fashion.
“You must know something about science as well, but sadly, not codes.”
The woman diverted her eyes, indicating to The Eagle that he was, indeed, correct in his assumption. Il Gufo had ordered her to translate Pappas’ notes, which meant that, in addition to being bilingual; she was also likely trained in the Doctor’s specialty: high level theoretical physics.
Before The Eagle could ask another question, the taller thug lashed out with his rifle, slamming the butt of it into the wall of the truck next to The Eagle’s right ear. But, with all his experience in harrowing and life-threatening situations, The Eagle did not flinch.
He merely laughed.
“Enough,” she commanded in their language. “Do not harm him… yet.”
She turned to The Eagle. “I am Cipriana,” she said simply, and gave a tight smile. “If you work with me, I can make matters more pleasant for you in the long run.”
Just then, the truck began moving, making its way along the bumpy path to places unknown.
Now all The Eagle had to do was estimate the speed of the truck. Then he would know when they had reached the proper point in their journey for him to make his move.
After all, in his line of work, timing was everything.
Chapter Six
The Great Escape
As the truck that carried The Eagle and Cipriana sped along, the two guards sat stoically, weapons at the ready, staring intently at their captive.
“Don’t you ever blink?” The Eagle asked, this time in Greek. Neither thug gave him the satisfaction of a reply. “Very well then. It’s a strong quality to have in a sentry, after all. You wouldn’t want to miss something obvious. Like, for example, if I was to strike a side deal with Miss Cipriana right under your noses. I mean, if that were the case, I might be able to figure out whatever – or whoever – it was that you are tasked with guarding or protecting or moving or whatnot, and, well, that would be awfully – “
“Silence!” the taller one cried again, standing up this time, and threatening to smash The Eagle’s nose with his rifle. The hesitation to strike told the spy that these low-level guards would listen to Cipriana’s commands, including the order not to harm The Eagle. They really needed the code on those documents cracked. If Dr. Pappas had given them what they needed, he was expendable. If not, they would have to use more extreme methods to secure his cooperation.
“I shall handle this,” Cipriana said, gesturing for both men to stand down. She switched to Italian. “Perhaps, Mr. Eagle, you would prefer the honey to the vinegar?”
“That’s flies, lady, but yes, I think we can make an arrangement. In fact, if you let me examine the documents now, maybe I can crack the code before we even make it to our destination. And then you can let me go.”
She considered the offer for a moment. Then, clearly deciding that, outnumbered three to one and unarmed, there was little chance that The Eagle would be a danger, she ordered the guards to cut the rope binding his wrists.
“Now,” she said, handing him the papers, “what can you tell me, legendary code-breaker.”
He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I can tell you that, in the course of completing my mission, I am going to take down every member of Il Gufo’s gang. Especially you.”
The woman let out a sharp snort of a laugh. “You expect me to be afraid?”
“No need,” The Eagle replied calmly.
Then he snapped his leg out, kicking the nearest thug firmly in the knee, taking him by surprise and knocking him off balance. As that man cried out in pain, The Eagle dropped his shoulder and slammed into the other goon who, startled from the sudden attack, dropped his weapon and stumbled backwards. The Eagle stuck the thug’s head through the cloth that covered the opening to the back of the vehicle.
And then The Eagle heard a beautiful noise. One long, low honk sang from the truck that had been waiting on the side of the road but was now falling in line behind them -- Nico’s truck. The Eagle’s timing had been perfect, as usual.
***
It wasn’t really fair. With the cramped quarters of the truck bed, even a two-on-one battle was not enough to tip the odds in favor of the Owl’s men. Plus, Cipriana seemed far more comfortable giving orders than engaging in a melee. She screamed toward the cab of the truck for the driver to speed up even as The Eagle dispatched the guards.
As he held the shorter one out the back of the truck, the taller thug regained his composure and readied his weapon. But the Eagle lashed out with his leg, this time hitting the tall one in the other kneecap, just to show he was an equal-opportunity brawler.
As the larger thug dropped to a kneeling position, the first struggled to break The Eagle’s grip. The Eagle turned his attention back to the smaller goon, stomping down on his foot to pin him in place, then grabbing the thug’s gun from the floor.
Gripping the rifle, The Eagle leaned into the goon and brought the barrel of the gun up, using his strength and leverage to overcome the struggles of the smaller man. He heard Cipriana shout more orders and assumed that the larger thug had recovered from his shock and was once more bringing his weapon to bear.
The Eagle gave one mighty shove, smashing the gun sharply against the chin of the smaller goon, who let out a cry of panic, then as the man’s body reacted to the sudden pain, The Eagle dropped the gun, grabbing the thug by his belt, and tossing him out of the vehicle.
Just then, The Eagle felt the truck accelerate, causing him and the remaining thug to stumble. Catching a glimpse out the rear of the truck, The Eagle saw the smaller goon land with a sickening crack on the dirt road as Nico sped past, keeping pace with the wine truck.
The Eagle was grateful for Nico’s superior driving skills, which would make his escape that much easier.
Turning his attention to the larger thug, The Eagle found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
He laughed.
The noise was not what the goon was expecting, and he hesitated for an instant.
It was enough.
The Eagle grabbed the weapon, twisting it from his foe’s grasp, flipping it around and smashing the butt of it into the man’s nose.
With a pathetic “urk,” the thug slumped to the ground, unconscious.
“If you are going to threaten someone with a gun, make sure he can’t take it from you.”
The Eagle turned his gaze toward Cipriana. She stood stark still, unable to believe how quickly her captive had turned the tables.
The Eagle stepped forward, reaching out with one hand. She flinched, but he merely snatched the papers from her hands, shoving them into the pocket of his trousers.
“We are not yet done, you and I.” Knocking down the tailgate and pushing back the c
urtains, The Eagle locked eyes with Nico, behind the wheel of the trailing truck.
Then, taking a deep breath, he leapt onto the hood of the second vehicle, letting slip only a small grunt upon impact. Nico slammed on the brakes and the Eagle held on tight. As the spy swung into the passenger seat, Nico leaned out the window and, with two masterfully placed shots, blew out the back tires of the wine truck, causing it to careen wildly off the road. The Greek hit the gas, spun the wheel, and sped off toward safety.
Chapter Seven
The Code
It didn’t take them long to reach NICO’s home (the Owl, of course, would be watching the hotel), and since The Eagle had contacted Joan with Nico’s radio, she had just what he needed waiting for him—certain chemicals from his luggage and one other special item, altered to his specifications, from hers.
He entered Nico’s small cottage, where he was showered with kisses from his ladylove.
“Not now,” Jeff said, pushing her away gently but firmly. “We need to look at these papers.”
“Why?” Nico protested. “It won’t get us any closer to finding Dr. Pappas.”
“No, but if we know what these say, we’ll have a bargaining chip. They need Pappas because he has certain knowledge. Apparently, that knowledge may be contained in these documents, which they were unable to decipher and they don’t currently have. Therefore, they need to keep Pappas alive.”
Nico nodded. “That gives us time to figure out where he is.”
“And, if we know what he’s working on, that gives us the upper hand, doesn’t it?” Joan added.
“’Fire from the Sky,’” The Eagle said quietly.
