by K. T. Tomb
Some hours later, when Abdul bin Hassan regained consciousness, he was seated in an empty concrete cell tied to a chair. His mouth was stuffed full of cloth and there was a blindfold over his eyes. A strange voice came over a P.A. system giving him instructions.
“Answer all of my questions truthfully. Nod your head for “yes” and shake your head for “no”. Do you understand the instructions?”
Abdul nodded his head.
“Do you know more about the fleet of Artemesia than you told the students at Ankara University?”
Abdul shook his head.
“You’re lying!” the voice said and Abdul’s body was gripped with the pain of electric shock being administered.
He began to frantically nod his head, and then the current was switched off.
“I’ll ask the question again: Do you know more than you told those students?”
Abdul nodded.
The interrogation went on for hours until finally the gag was removed from his mouth. The questions got more complex and whenever he didn’t answer well, he was shocked again. The longer the questioning went on, the longer the periods of electrocution got. It took them three days to get what they needed out of Abdul and when they were done they disposed of him in the desert west of Antalya.
No, he wasn’t a new comer to the wonders of torture, it was amazing what physical pain and the promise of it ceasing could do to a man and how it can make every value he ever held for himself melt away in the hopes of survival. The professor would be the same as all the others, he would be selling government secrets for a sip of water before the afternoon was spent. He turned away from the window with a satisfied smile frozen on his lips.
Later that evening as Ethan was about to sit down to dinner, his cell phone rang. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID. It was Hans.
“Hans,” he said, “what’s happening?”
“Nothing much, Mr. Doyle. I just wanted to make a suggestion to you about the trip and see what you thought of it.”
“Okay Hans, tell me. If there’s anyone I want suggestions from it’s you. You’re the only professional I seem to have around me.”
“Thank you, Sir. Well, it turns out the platform we’re getting is one of the company’s sturdiest but that also makes it the slowest. It’s going to take 48 hours just to get over to Psara another 24 to get anywhere south of there. Without a map, it’s even harder to estimate the travel time.”
“So what are you suggesting, Hans?”
“Jackson said his guys have gotten a lead on the location of Stone and the map. Why don’t I go ahead and get the platform out to sea while you and Jackson see if his people can get the map. When you’ve got it, I’ll radio my coordinates and the chopper will bring you out to sea.”
“Hans, it’s a really good plan, one that I think we should go ahead with whether we find the map or we get the information from Cartwright. I don’t particularly relish the idea of being stuck on that enormous sea turtle for three days to get absolutely nowhere. Its confirmed Hans, you go ahead of us on Friday and we’ll let you know as soon as we have something. I’d just say if you get as far south as Cesme before you hear from us, kill twelve hours and turn around and head back toward port.”
“Understood, Mr. Doyle.”
Ethan didn’t hear from any of the men on his team for the rest of that night. The next morning Jackson called to report that the professor had finally cracked.
“Hans told me it took three fingernails,” he said, ‘but Cartwright gave it all up in the end.”
“Good, good,” Ethan replied. “What did he say?”
“Apparently there’s another copy of the map right here in Izmir. The professor hid it in a hotel room about a year ago as a backup plan.”
“Well, it’s our back up plan now isn’t it?” Ethan laughed. “Which hotel is it in?”
“The Oglakcioglu Park Hotel,” he replied. “I already checked and the room it’s hidden in is vacant tonight. The guys and I are going in. We’ll have it to you tomorrow morning.”
“Well done, Jackson. It seems you’re finally stepping up to the challenge.”
Chapter Four
Since their arrival the previous afternoon, Oscar had been keeping a close eye on the GPS location of the of the professor’s phone. He had already set his system to alert them if the signal started to move but he still watched it closely since it was becoming obvious that the battery would soon die.
“Chyna,” Oscar said, “we need to get some eyes on Doyle’s place right away, any minute now the battery is gonna die.
“We already got someone on the inside to set up some remotes for us,” she replied. “They could come online at any time.”
“That’s great!”
At that moment Anthony’s cell phone rang.
“Okay team,” he said loudly, and everyone started to move towards where he was standing, “we’ve got activity.”
“Send the pictures through to Miss Stone’s mobile phone, you stay on the line with me,” he said into the phone.
Then to the room he said, “The three men entering Doyle’s building have all been confirmed to be with him in the apartment now. They’re having some sort of meeting over tea in the apartment’s living room. Oscar, there’s visual from the remotes coming through now, but no audio.”
“That’s awesome,” Oscar cried as the pictures from six well-placed cameras popped up on his screen. He typed a few rapid commands on his keyboard and the images appeared on the 60” flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Seeing the amazed faces around him he added, “It’s all in the wireless.” Fariha giggled at his joke and he smiled back at her.
For the next two and a half hours, Oscar watched the men in the apartment sip tea and talk. He had no idea what was really going on without being able to hear the conversation. Then Ethan stood and went over to the window and stood there looking out at the view.
“What are you doing, Doyle?” Oscar wondered aloud.
After a few moments, he turned away from the window and started approaching a set of closed double doors. He opened them and suddenly Oscar saw the professor tied to a dining room chair.
“We’ve got a visual on the professor,” he shouted.
Everyone looked up at the huge screen on the wall. There he was, with Ethan standing over him yelling. The professor said something back to Ethan that must have made him angry because shortly after the exchange, Ethan kicked the chair over and Cartwright toppled over onto the floor. Fariha gasped and Chyna balled up her fists in anger.
Ethan left the dining room still shouting and the tall blond Norseman they had come to know as Hans stood and approached the professor. He righted the man’s chair and let him out of the ties. Then he put a gag in his mouth, a hood over his head and handcuffed his wrists behind his back. They watched as Hans and the Ukranian called Milos, lead Professor Cartwright from the apartment. Ethan watched them leave then he turned to the American, whom they knew as Jackson. There was an outburst and then Jackson went hurrying towards the door.
“They’re all on the move,” Chyna said to Anthony. “Is the tail in place?”
“He sure is. One car will stay to keep an eye on Doyle,” he replied.
Chyna nodded and swiped her code onto the screen of her phone. She opened the GPS app and started tracking the agent who was going to follow Doyle’s men and the professor. She pulled on the tactical vest that Anthony handed her, strapped her SIG to her shoulder and placed three extra clips in the vest pockets. Pulling on her leather jacket and a black baseball cap, she turned to her team.
“I want you guys to sit tight and get ready to move out fast if we have to,” she said swiftly.
“Aren’t you going to tell us what the plan is, Boss lady?” Lana asked.
With a quick glance in Fariha’s direction, Chyna replied, “Everything from here on in is on a need to know basis, Lana. I’ve been forced to involve Agent Stewart and the F.B.I. in this so we’re working under their rules now.”
Then to them all she said, “You all know what you’ve got to do, so just do it. Fariha, I need you to map those coordinates of the wreck, down to the square foot if you can. We haven’t got time to be out there guessing. Lana, I need you to call the guys at the salvage company in Cesme and change those plans. Make arrangements for just one person to have gear and a chopper to meet a ship. They don’t need to know anything more and tell them you’re calling from Reneseree. Give them Doyle’s number so they can call him to confirm the details. Oscar, keep your eyes on the monitor and your earpiece in, I’m going to need you to be my eyes in the sky. I’ll see you all onboard later. Please don’t forget my bags.”
With that Anthony, Chyna and the small team of agents left the brown house on ‘Embassy Row’ to follow Doyle’s henchmen and rescue Professor Cartwright.
They got to the warehouse in a rough part of Izmir’s industrial district just about five minutes after Hans did. From an adjacent street they watched as Hans and Milos took the professor, still handcuffed and hooded, out of a black car and in through a side door. Chyna could see F.B.I. snipers positioned above them on the surrounding rooftops. Anthony handed her a rifle which she carefully checked, loaded and put the safety on. She attached it to the strap on the right side of the tactical vest.
“Oscar, can you hear me?” she said into her wireless earpiece.
“Yes, boss,” he replied.
“I’m shutting down now. We’re about to storm the warehouse. Talk to you in a bit.”
Chyna took the ear piece out, then turned off the phone turned and placed them both inside her pocket, replacing it with the wired one Anthony had run up through her vest. Immediately, she heard his whispered instructions.
“Okay team, we’re going to do this fast and by the books,” he announced. “Snipers, keep your eyes open and your guns trained on all exits. Entry team, on my word you’ll break down that side door. Miss Stone and I will take point and everyone else follow closely behind. If we need to we will spread out but wait for my signal on that. Everybody clear?”
There was a general positive response which satisfied them both.
“Okay then! Entry team, Go!”
The four men ran up to the door and with one swing from the battering ram, the lock broke and the door fell open. They stepped aside and as Anthony yelled, “Go! Go! Go!”, the team fell in neatly behind him and they all went into the warehouse. It was an open room on the ground floor level and right in front of them was a startled Hans and Milos, who didn’t even have a chance to pull their weapons. Chyna looked about the room as the agents moved forward to secure the assailants and handcuff them. In a corner, she saw Professor Cartwright tied to a chair and beside him, similarly secured, were the six members of his student team. Breathing a sigh of relief, Chyna went to help untie them.
When he was free of his bonds the professor hugged her. He seemed relieved to finally be free of his captives.
“How did you find us?” he asked her.
“It was your cell phone.”
“But they took that and threw it into the canal.”
“You have two remember.”
“Ah yes, that university Blackberry® that I never use. It was in the jacket pocket the whole time right?”
“Indeed it was, professor.”
An agent came up and tapped Chyna on the shoulder. The time had come to leave and return to the base.
“Professor, I need you and these students to go with this Agent now. He’s going to get you back to the house so you can freshen up and have something to eat. Lana and Fariha are both waiting for you there. I’ll see you all later.”
“Thank you Chyna. I just can’t find the words to tell you how thankful I am. You could have just taken the next flight back to New York and called it quits but I’m so grateful that you didn’t.”
They hugged again and Chyna motioned to the students to follow the agent out to the cars. When they were gone, she turned her attention to Hans and Milos who Anthony already had handcuffed to a couple of chairs in the middle of the room. The room had been emptied except for the four of them. Chyna didn’t have any time to waste with pleasantries on the two men. She cut right to the chase.
“Listen up boys, this little stunt of yours means life in a Turkish prison for seven counts of kidnapping and holding against their will. I’m sure we could even convince the Greeks that you’re both international spies and we know how paranoid they get about those types of things.”
There was an instant of fear in both men’s eyes at the thought of being turned over to the authorities of either country. Having considered themselves the “Gateway to the Middle East” for centuries, Turkish officials had no tolerance for the sort of criminal activity that was usually synonymous with the extremist religious factions of the region and as for Greece, they were just in a constant state of suspicion against every other government.
“So, here’s the deal,” she continued. “You’re going to give us Doyle and we’re going to let you turn State’s evidence against him and get a sentence in a U.S. prison. How does that sound?”
The men looked at each other then nodded their agreement. Anthony removed their gags, and then stood back with his arms crossed over his chest, leaving all the initial questioning to Chyna. He had later use for them but neutralizing Ethan Doyle’s scheme was paramount at the moment. Later, he would turn the tables on them and demand that they help him infiltrate Reneseree Industries to gather the evidence he needed to prove they were laundering money for Balkan organized crime rings.
“First,” she continued, “where’s Jackson?”
Hans was the first to speak up. “He was supposed to stop and pick up lunch for us then come back here to help with the...you know,” he trailed off.
Chyna looked at Anthony. He picked up his radio and spoke to the sniper unit that was still on the roof, everyone else had gone back to the house.
“Keep an eye out for a lone male approaching the building. He was last seen wearing a blue striped long sleeved shirt and blue jeans. He’ll most likely be bringing in some takeout with him. Alert me of his arrival but do not intercept him. That’s our third suspect.”
“Copy that. Ten-four.”
Anthony handed Chyna the cell phone he had taken from Hans’ pocket and she handed him her pistol. He took the safety off and chambered a round walking over to stand next to Hans. Then he put the gun to the man’s head.
“You’re gonna make a call to your boss, Hans. I’d advise that you say exactly what I tell you to or my friend is going to use my private issue SIG Sauer to put two into the side of your head and that’s just a precaution in case they ever piece enough of you back together to launch an investigation. Do you understand me?”
Hans nodded eagerly and then swallowed the thick lump in his throat. Chyna gave him the phone.
“Call Doyle and tell him that you suggest he hang back while you launch the platform vessel early tomorrow morning. Let him know it’s going to take you two days to make it around the peninsula and into the strait near Psara and another day to get to any port south of there. Tell him Jackson got a lead on where to find us and the map so you suggest he wait on that while you make your way down and then he can contact you with a rendezvous point. Got it?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Good. Anthony, gag the other one. We won’t be needing him after all.”
Hans made the call and repeated exactly what Chyna had ordered him to repeat. Hans had just completed the call when one of the snipers reported that a lone male matching Anthony’s earlier description was approaching.
“Jackson is here,” he told Chyna.
“Perfect timing,” she grinned. “You are going to meet Jackson at the door, take the food from him, and then tell him you found out there’s a duplicate map that the professor hid years ago inside the Oglakcioglu Park Hotel. He’s to take his men and go retrieve it tonight for Doyle. Keep in mind that any funny business will earn you those two slugs I promis
ed earlier.”
The presence of her pistol in Anthony’s hand proved to be excellent motivation and Hans followed her orders to the letter. He even seemed pretty convincing. No doubt her promise of extradition to the U.S., where prison would be much more desirable than a Turkish rat hole, was also a motivating factor.
With her instructions carried out, Chyna and Anthony led their prisoners out and put them into the custody of federal agents. They didn’t have much time to regroup and set up the sting at the hotel but they had to catch a thief and shut down Doyle once and for all.
“Okay, so, what’s your plan?”Anthony asked as they were on their way back to the Brownstone. “I mean, it was a great move to draw a few more into the hotel for us to capture, but that’s just going to tip Doyle off when his dudes don’t show up with the duplicate map, don’t you think?”
“So, we give them their map,” she smirked.
“I thought they already stole the map from your hotel suite.”
“Everyone else thinks that too,” she replied, pulling open her jacket to reveal one end of the rolled up map. “But it seems our thief was in too much of a hurry and left the map behind.”
“You are a devious one, Chyna Stone,” he chuckled.
***
Back at the Brownstone, everyone was in high spirits.
The professor and his students were busy preparing Lana and Oscar for what they should expect on the undersea salvage of Artemesia’s fleet. It was certainly going to be quite a different experience than any dig site they had ever worked on before. The ship itself, he explained, would not be salvageable. Ships of that age were made completely of wood and after more than three thousand years at the bottom of the sea, it was likely to all be gone. What they saw on the map was a footprint of the ships. The area of seafloor that was “stained” with the remains of the old wood, what they would be focusing on would be the contents of the ships; figureheads, cannon and of course the treasure that Artemesia supposedly stole from Minos. He reminded them that they would not be there to attempt bringing any remaining parts of the vessels to the surface, they simply did not have the expertise for that, they would be operating the site as similarly to a land-based dig as they could, removing sand from the area to see what they could uncover on the ocean floor.