“Oh, I won’t.”
After checking to see if General O’Reilly or anyone else had sent text messages, Mitchell quickly stripped off his clothes and joined Jen in the shower. They didn’t order pizza, after all.
8
Polaris Headquarters
Albany, New York
Mitchell and Jen walked into the headquarters’ main briefing room five minutes before nine o’clock the next morning, each dressed casually in tan slacks with very similar red, short-sleeved shirts.
“Well, ain’t that sweet. Did you two dress each other this morning?” teased Jackson.
Jen looked over at Mitchell and shook her head. “I hadn’t noticed. I’ll make sure that I check him out before we leave home from now on.”
As usual, a box of donuts, a carafe, and several coffee cups sat in the middle of the table.
Mitchell grabbed a coffee and a donut before sitting down beside Jackson. He opened his mouth to ask if Nate knew what was going on, when Sam and Cardinal entered the room. Sam had the usual spring in her step while Cardinal looked calm and collected, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“What’s up?” Sam asked Jen, who shrugged her shoulders in response. Cardinal went to reach for a chocolate-glazed donut, but stopped when he saw Sam eyeing him. “I don’t need the extra calories,” he said, sitting back in his chair.
“That’s right, Gordon. Donuts aren’t on the diet.”
Cardinal sighed and looked down at his trim waist. “Maybe not, but I’m hungry.” Fortunately, Cardinal was saved from Sam’s response when Donaldson and Fahimah entered the room. Donaldson took a seat at the head of the table while Fahimah walked over to the lectern, placed her computer on top, picked up a remote and turned on the large screen behind her. A couple of seconds later, a map of the Aegean Sea came up.
“Thanks for coming in on what should have been a day off for all you,” said Donaldson. “I received a call from General O’Reilly late yesterday afternoon. I’m sure by now that all of you heard about the attempted hijacking of an Air Canada flight to Ottawa. What hasn’t been released to the press is the fact that Mrs. Milos was the target of the hijacking. Her brother, Major-General Stavros Alexander, called the general and has asked for our assistance in keeping her safe while she is here in North America.”
“How long will the assignment run for?” asked Mitchell.
“Until the UN-sponsored conference on the situation in the Aegean begins in one week’s time,” explained Donaldson. “Mrs. Milos is a member of the Greek delegation and is one of the key advisors to the country’s Prime Minister on international law. Her participation is seen by the Greek delegation as critical to the peace process.”
Jackson asked, “Where is the conference being held?”
“Lisbon, Portugal,” answered Fahimah.
“Can’t the feds look after her?” Jen said. “I’m fairly certain that the FBI has a number of safe houses spread across the country where she could hide until it was time for her to fly to Portugal.”
“Her brother made it very clear that after we saved her life in Oregon, he trusts us, and only us, to keep her safe,” replied Donaldson.
“I take it the general has signed off on the assignment,” said Mitchell.
Donaldson shook his head. “Not yet. There’s more to this than just close protection. General Alexander is in Washington for a NATO planning meeting. He’s flying up here later today to discuss the particulars of the second part of the assignment. Naturally, I’d like all of you to be present when he arrives.”
“What do we know about General Alexander?” asked Cardinal.
Fahimah changed the image on the screen. A photo of a ruggedly handsome man in his early fifties with black hair and a thick mustache, wearing his dress uniform, appeared. “Stavros Alexander, aged fifty-two, is a Major General in the Greek Army. He is a career soldier with service in the Balkans and Afghanistan. He’s unmarried, but over the years has been linked romantically to several Greek actresses. He is not shy to voice his political views, which are very popular with the conservative elements of the armed forces. Alexander was once seen as a possible candidate for several right-wing parties. However, his sister has vastly overtaken him in popularity and, between the two of them, she is the one who is seen as a serious candidate in next year’s elections, just with a center-left party.”
“I bet they don’t talk politics over Sunday dinner in that household,” quipped Jackson.
Jen shook her head at Nate.
“What can you tell us about the people who are trying to kill Mrs. Milos?” queried Mitchell. “It would be nice to know who they are and what their goals are.”
Fahimah took a sip of water from a glass beside the lectern before she switched the picture back to the map of Greece. “Unfortunately, no one has claimed responsibility, nor have the FBI working with the Greek police been able to positively identify which organization was behind the attack. With thirty-seven registered political parties and dozens of radical groups, it’s going to be hard to nail down who did this.”
Mitchell said, “When will Mr. Alexander be arriving?”
“At two-thirty this afternoon,” replied Donaldson. “He’ll be traveling by helicopter. I’ve already warned off the security staff to have some people at the landing zone when he arrives. I’ll personally meet him there and escort him up here.”
“What about Mrs. Milos; where is she right now?” asked Jen.
“She’ll be coming with her brother.”
At precisely two-thirty, a blue-and-white Bell 430 helicopter descended from the cloudless sky and came in to land on the landing pad behind the main headquarters building. Donaldson, Fahimah, and a couple of well-armed security guards met General Alexander and Mrs. Milos as they exited the helicopter. Alexander wasn’t in uniform. Instead, he wore a charcoal-gray, double-breasted suit, while his sister wore a pair of loose-fitting blue slacks and a white shirt. They were ushered inside the building and led upstairs to the briefing room where Mitchell and his teammates waited for them.
The moment Elena Milos stepped in the room and spotted Mitchell and Jackson, a smile crept across her face. “It seems fate has decided that we are not finished working together.”
“No, I guess not,” replied Mitchell.
Donaldson quickly introduced the people in the room to General Alexander.
Water and coffee were brought into the room. After everyone had helped themselves to a drink, they all took a seat at the briefing table.
Alexander looked around the table. “Ladies and gentlemen, with the situation between my country and Turkey moving dangerously close to war, I must leave right after this meeting. Therefore, I’ll get straight to the point. I would like to hire your organization to do two things for my sister and me. And believe me when I say—the first thing will be far easier than the second. Someone has all but declared war on my sister. If I take her home, I’m sure whoever is behind these cowardly attacks will try again. I’d rather she disappeared from sight. I need her protected until the peace conference in Portugal begins in a week’s time. Once she’s there, the Portuguese government has pledged to look after her. ”
“Sir, General O’Reilly’s people are among the best in the world. I can assure you that we can look after Mrs. Milos for a week,” said Donaldson.
“That is good news,” replied Alexander. “After all she has been through recently, I’m sure my sister could use the time to rest and collect her thoughts.”
“I’d rather not run and hide, but someone has given me no choice in the matter,” said Elena, with an arch look at her brother. “I don’t want any more blood shed on account of me.”
“The next thing I need you to do for me requires a bit of context,” explained Alexander. “Alexander has not always been our family’s last name. It was changed from Hiller to Alexander after the Second World War. Our grandfather was a German officer who moved to Greece under an assumed name and identity at the end of the war. What
I didn’t learn until a few years ago was that he was a devout Nazi. In fact, he was a colonel in the SS.”
Mitchell saw Elena Milos’ eyes widen at her brother’s pronouncement. Apparently, he had been hiding the truth about their family from her.
“Sir, what on earth made him decide to immigrate to Greece?” asked Fahimah. “The German Army, and the SS especially, were hated by the Greek people for the atrocities they committed there during the war.”
“I know. The choice, however, was not his to make,” replied Alexander. “My grandfather was a member of the Odessa.”
“Who were they?” asked Cardinal.
“It was an organization of former SS men who set up an underground escape mechanism for thousands of wanted war criminals to evade trial. Most fled Europe between 1945 and 1948. Thousands of former Nazis made their way to South America, where they lived free from prosecution.”
“Sir, why was your grandfather chosen to be an Odessa operative in Greece?” Mitchell asked.
“That part is easy. He was a natural linguist. When he arrived in Greece, he told people that he was a refugee fleeing persecution from the communists in Czechoslovakia. He was also a widower, with a son to look after. A few years later, he married a Greek woman whose father owned a cruise line. Before long, he was helping to smuggle wanted criminals out with passengers heading to South America on holiday.”
Donaldson looked over at Alexander. “Sir, I’m not sure what any of this has to do with you or Mrs. Milos.”
“My apologies, Mister Donaldson, it soon will,” said Alexander. “When the Nazis withdrew from Russia and Eastern Europe, they took with them vast amounts of art, gold, and jewelry. It pains me to say this, but our grandfather, as a member of Odessa, knew all about these treasured artifacts. In fact, he helped to ship a substantial amount of gold to South America via his father-in-law’s ships. ” Alexander paused for a moment to take a drink of water.
Elena shot her brother an angry look, fury written all over her beautiful features. “Stavros, why am I only hearing about this for the first time today? I knew that our grandfather wasn’t from Greece and that he had his secrets; however, I never knew that he was an SS officer who helped the Nazis steal priceless treasures.”
Alexander looked into his sister’s pained eyes. “I’m sorry, Elena. I only learned this recently myself, when I went through our late father’s books. I read the journals left behind by our grandfather. Believe me when I tell you that I always meant to share this information with you.”
“Goddamnit, Stavros, you could have told me before today,” she snapped back.
Alexander raised his hands in surrender. “Yes, you are right and I do apologize for springing the information on you this way. I swear, I meant to tell you, but after your husband died, I could never find the right time to do so.”
Elena sat back in her chair with her arms crossed, glaring at her brother.
Alexander took a deep breath and continued. “Our grandfather was a very capable administrator; that is why he was invaluable to the Nazis when they left Europe for South America.”
“How much money are we talking about?” asked Jackson.
“Mister Jackson, depending who you speak to, the amount still missing is anywhere from two billion and up to twenty billion dollars. In his notes, my grandfather wrote that he always believed it was the latter, rather than the former.”
“Sir, I mean no disrespect, but how does this relate to your present predicament, and what is it exactly you would like us to do?” asked Mitchell.
Alexander reached into his jacket and removed a small tape recorder. He pressed the Play button. An electronically-altered voice spoke in Greek. Alexander calmly translated. “Mister Alexander, in the name of The New Greek Dawn Movement, you have until the beginning of the UN conference in Portugal to transfer the sum of two billion dollars to us. You will be provided the account information once you have taken possession of the money. We hacked your personal computer and know all about your grandfather’s secret bank account in Madrid. Failure to comply with this demand will result in the death of your precious sister, as well as everyone who attends the conference.”
“What account?” asked Elena.
“It would appear that our grandfather kept meticulous notes about what taken and how it was shipped out of Europe,” explained Alexander. “These records are locked away in a safe-deposit box in a bank in Madrid.”
“Have you told anyone about this?” asked Donaldson.
“Yes and no,” Alexander replied cryptically. “I warned the American, Greek, and Portuguese governments that there is a terrorist threat to attack the conference. However, as no one has ever heard of The New Greek Dawn Movement, everyone seemed to take it in stride. It would appear that threats made by terror groups are par for the course these days.”
Mitchell frowned, his mind working quickly. There had to be something that Alexander wasn’t sharing. “Sir, what didn’t you tell the authorities?”
“Mister Mitchell, after I received this threat, I contacted an old friend of mine in Madrid and asked him to visit the bank. Unfortunately, he never made it. He was found earlier today, the victim of an apparent suicide.”
“Sounds like the key word here is ‘apparent’,” Nate commented.
Donaldson shook his head. “General, what is it you want us to do to help you?”
Alexander’s voice grew determined. “Mister Donaldson, my gut tells me that there isn’t any money in that safe-deposit box. I’m willing to lay odds that there are only a handful of old books filled with my grandfather’s notes in that bank. Also, there is no way in hell I can come up with two billion dollars in a week, and these people know it. I’m willing to wager that the contents of those books is what they’re really after.”
“The location of the treasure,” Mitchell said, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “If it still exists. It could be in a hundred different places, spread throughout the world for safekeeping.”
Alexander nodded his head. “Precisely.”
“Then why even bother contacting you?” Jen asked. “If they’ve hacked your computer, surely they have what they need to access the account.”
Alexander shook his head. “They know of the account, but they don’t have the account number, or more importantly its access code. Those pieces of information were kept secret. They were written down in code on the back of a picture of my grandmother. My fear is that it is only a matter of time—days, perhaps—before they obtain that information as well. My housekeeper has gone missing, and I fear that she has met with foul play. The police have been to my house and said that there are no signs of forced entry. However, these men are professionals. They wouldn’t leave behind clues that they had been there.”
Elena gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. “Mrs. Karezi has gone missing? My God, this is an awful nightmare. It can’t be happening.”
Alexander reached over and placed a hand on Elena’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but this is all too real.” He turned his attention back to the rest of the people in the room. “The thought of these terrorists getting their hands on billions of dollars is a nightmare scenario for my country. Our Prime Minister is a weak, doddering old fool who is incapable of dealing with the Turks, let alone a determined terror organization. A radical movement with billions of dollars at their disposal could easily topple his government and install whomever they want, making a bad situation even worse. My sister and I do not agree on a lot of things politically. However, I think I speak for the two of us when I say that we could soon find ourselves in a shooting war that no one wants or is prepared to fight. The peace conference must go ahead and these terrorists must not get their hands on this money…if it truly exists.” Alexander paused for a moment. “To prevent this from happening, I would like you to send some people to Madrid to determine what is in that safe-deposit box before the terrorists get to it. If a fortune in looted treasure does exist and can be tracked using my grandfather’s notes,
then it belongs to the countries it was stolen from, not some criminal organization.”
Mitchell shifted his gaze over to Donaldson. “Mike, we should run this past the general before you make a decision whether or not to support his request. Looking after Mrs. Milos is a simple enough assignment, but heading to Madrid where a man’s death may be linked to the situation will require the general’s approval.”
“Gentlemen, please forgive me. I took the liberty of contacting General O’Reilly before I flew up here and explained it all to him,” said Alexander. “He is an old friend. Mister Donaldson, if you’ll check your email, I think you will find that he has already given his blessing to this assignment.”
Mitchell bit his tongue and silently cursed the Special Forces community. It seemed to be the worst-kept secret in the world. Everyone appeared to know everyone else. But he knew that O’Reilly would not have agreed to the mission if he didn’t think his people could handle the work. “Mike, if the general has given the green light, I suggest that Sam and Cardinal look after Mrs. Milos while Nate and I see what is in the safe-deposit box in Madrid. We can catch a flight in the morning. I’d like to spend at least a day, preferably two, doing recon on the bank before Nate and I dip our toes in the water. I don’t want us walking into any potential traps.”
“Sounds good,” said Donaldson. “I’ll have Jen look into the reports of missing and stolen treasures still listed as unaccounted for since the end of the war for you. I don’t know if it will help, but I’m sure it can’t hurt.”
“I’ll start a file on The New Greek Dawn Movement,” announced Fahimah.
Alexander looked over at Cardinal and Sam. “Where do to intend you take my sister?”
Mitchell jumped in. “That, I’m afraid, will remain our little secret. No disrespect, sir, but the fewer people who know where she will be, the safer for Mrs. Milos and my people.”
“Yes, of course,” replied Alexander. “I defer to your experience in these matters. I would, however, ask you to allow her bodyguard to accompany her wherever she goes.”
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