“No. Well, I don’t know about Professor Palmer, but—” His eyes narrowed as he noticed something on his laptop, the footage continuing forward on the camera at the tunnel exit. “Wait, something’s wrong.”
“Are you okay?” Reading sounded concerned for their safety.
“No, I mean, yeah, just a sec.” He backed up the footage, and he spotted the SUV following the two transport trucks, two trucks that had beer logos on their sides when they entered. “Holy shit!”
“What?”
“The trucks! They’ve changed their side panels!”
49
Polish-Czech Republic Border
Officer Jelen stood uselessly on the side of the road, watching truck after truck get waved through, those with anything that remotely appeared to be a beer company logo, including soft drinks or alcohol, pulled over and searched.
Nothing had turned up so far, and he had a feeling nothing would.
These guys were too good to be caught at a roadblock. They would have planned for this eventuality, and figured out a strategy against it. Most likely they had already left the road, traveling west toward Germany, though if they had, it had to have been recently, as they had been caught on camera north of here a couple of hours ago, though they had been lost after that.
And that had him concerned. Could they have offloaded the cargo to different vehicles? It was a possibility, but he doubted it. It would take too long, and they could be discovered, unless they did it inside, away from prying eyes. And if they had a facility to do the switch, wouldn’t it be wiser to just sit pat and wait until things cooled down?
He wouldn’t.
Europe wasn’t like most other parts of the world. It was fairly small, especially when you discounted Scandinavia. The United States was almost three times the geographic area, and there were no longer any guarded interior borders. Their suspects could travel from Poland to the Baltic Sea, the Atlantic Ocean, or the Mediterranean if they wanted, unimpeded.
Or simply to another country within the union, if that was their final destination.
And they could do it all in less than a day.
They were already almost six hours into their journey, so if they were leaving Poland, they probably had already done so, and they were too late.
He watched a truck pass advertising soup, and his stomach grumbled, downright gurgling as another advertising a grocery store followed, delicious baked goods displayed on its side that had his mouth watering, then his jaw dropping.
“Stop those two trucks!”
50
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
“So, I think I’ve figured out what’s going on.”
The room, including Leroux, turned toward Child. “Explain.”
“I found this.” Child tapped at his keyboard, then motioned toward the large set of screens curving across the front of the operations center. A photo of an opened crate with an unfortunately unattractive face blocking half of it, was displayed as part of a Facebook page.
“What is that? Polish?”
“Yup. This guy is bragging that he discovered the Amber Room yesterday.”
Leroux’s eyes narrowed as he rose, stepping closer to the screen, trying to pick out details in the background. “Who is he?”
“A nobody, as far as I can tell. I ran him through the standard searches, and beyond a few petty arrests in Poland, mostly disturbing the peace and public drunkenness, he’s never really been on the radar. I found a license for him, though. He’s apparently a heavy equipment operator living in Kwidzyn, a town just north of the kidnapping site.”
Leroux grunted. “Which would have required heavy equipment to excavate.”
“Which would need licensed operators.” Child spun in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “I’m guessing he was hired to do some work, took a photo he wasn’t supposed to, then posted it on Facebook like a Millennial tool.”
Leroux glanced at him. “Aren’t you a Millennial?”
Child grinned. “I may be a Millennial, but I ain’t no tool!”
Sonya Tong snorted, muttering something that Leroux suspected was a contradiction to the statement. Child laughed in her direction, apparently having heard her.
“You might be right!” He turned back to Leroux. “Anyway, as most tools, he has his privacy settings wide open so that the world can see all his posts, probably because he hopes to attract more followers and satiate his desperate need for validation through strangers ‘liking’ his posts. I’m guessing this is how word got out about the Amber Room’s discovery.”
Leroux’s head bobbed slowly as he returned to his station. “Makes sense, and fits the facts. Now we need to figure out who found out.”
Tong cleared her throat. “I’ve been combing the Dark Web. There are a few known hangouts for collectors of stolen art, relics, whatnot, and there was one reference to the Amber Room on a forum yesterday. All it had was a message that said, ‘Amber room found? Probably BS. PM me if interested.’”
Leroux stared at the posting Tong had put up on the display. “Anybody respond?”
“Nobody publicly, though they might have personally messaged him like he requested. I’m trying to pull any information I can on the poster. If we can find him, then maybe we can grab him and interrogate him.”
Leroux frowned. “I doubt we’ll be able to do that, but somebody might. Let’s find him first, then worry about who gets to have all the fun.”
51
Polish-Czech Republic Border
“Why did you think these were the trucks?”
Officer Jelen frowned as he watched the vehicles pull away, their cargo verified as perishable goods, no stolen art contained within. He turned to Inspector Zabek. “I’m positive I saw those same two trucks go through here since we arrived. I’m sure of it.”
Zabek’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would they go through twice?”
“Exactly. It doesn’t make sense, but I’m sure they did.” He looked about. “We’re taping everything that goes through, right?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s review the footage. We’d just arrived when I saw them.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because I’m starving, and when I saw them the first time, my stomach grumbled just like it did the second time.”
Zabek chuckled, waving over one of the officers recording the proceedings. “I think this redefines ‘gut instinct.’” He turned to the man with the camera. “I need to see the footage from about fifteen minutes ago.”
He was handed a tablet from a bag slung over his shoulder. “Everything is on here.” The man resumed taping, and Zabek brought up the footage, dragging his finger to back up to the time index where they first arrived.
“There!” Jelen jabbed a finger at the tablet, and Zabek lifted his finger, the footage rolling forward at normal speed. “That’s them. See, the exact same advertising. Check the plates.”
Zabek zoomed in, and Jelen jotted down the plates from both trucks, then compared them to the two that had just left.
They didn’t match.
Though he wasn’t exactly surprised at that. There was no possible reason he could think of for the trucks in question to have gone through the border crossing twice.
“So it’s not them,” said Zabek.
“Yeah, but what are the chances that two trucks that match the description of the vehicles we’re looking for, with the exact same corporate advertising on their sides, both traveling together, pass through the same border crossing as two other vehicles, less than fifteen minutes ahead of them?”
Zabek chewed his cheek for a moment. “Slim to none would be my guess.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” He pointed at the image on the screen. “These are the trucks. I know it!”
Zabek sighed, staring at the border. “But they’re in the Czech Republic now, and out of our jurisdiction. I’ll notify Warsaw so they ca
n get the Czechs involved, but if you’re right, I think we’re done.”
52
Ostrava, Czech Republic
Acton sat quietly in the back seat as he took in everything he could about their new surroundings. They had pulled off the highway and into the city of Ostrava, several turns made before they had arrived in an alleyway, two white SUVs parked ahead of them, along with a black one that matched theirs.
I wonder where the third one is.
His captor turned to his driver. “Let’s do the switch fast.” He looked back at Acton. “Professor, cooperate, or you die.”
Acton kept his mouth shut, realizing this might be his only chance now of escape, his captors unlikely to allow him a bathroom break again.
It was now or never.
The man exited the vehicle, joining several others already at the new SUVs, as the driver stepped out and opened the rear door. Acton climbed out, and as soon as the door was out of his way, punched the man in the throat as hard as he could, then kneed him in the groin. The man doubled over, his crushed windpipe not allowing him to deliver a warning. Acton grabbed the man’s weapon from his shoulder holster, and the keys still gripped in his hand, then jumped into the driver’s seat before the others could react.
He shoved the key in the dash and started the engine as the hostiles drew their weapons. He slammed it into reverse and bent over as gunshots erupted. Using the rearview camera, he gunned it out of the alleyway then jerked the wheel to the right and out of the line of fire. Popping up, he put it in drive and hammered on the gas, pulling a U-turn as several of his captors emerged from the alleyway, holding their fire. He took another quick turn, reorienting himself with the landmarks he had spotted upon their arrival, wondering what to do next.
53
John Paul II International Airport
Balice, Poland
Reading stared at the map as the Gulf V was refueled, the notice about the trucks having new paneling and crossing into the Czech Republic just received. It confirmed what Tommy had suspected.
The lad is good.
And it also meant he was too far north, the trucks now at least half an hour into Czech territory. The authorities there had been notified, but he was quite confident the trucks had already changed their side paneling again somehow, and their plates, Tommy confirming they had changed the last time the advertising had.
The Czechs would be chasing ghosts.
He debated having the pilot skip farther south, but without a specific destination, there was little point in hopscotching across the continent. Every traffic camera in the Czech Republic would be monitored now for the two trucks, and hopefully, they’d get lucky, catching them somehow despite their changed appearance. As soon as he had word of an arrest, he’d fly in.
What had him curious, was how they were redoing the trucks. These were curtain side vehicles, their siding made of fabric. That would make it theoretically possible to change them fairly easily to some other random logo, but that wasn’t the case here. They had changed the siding to match other vehicles on the road, traveling only minutes behind them.
It was as if they had either known what trucks would be on the road with them in advance, which he doubted, or they were somehow able to print off new sides, which seemed unlikely. How they were doing it wasn’t important for now, it was the fact they could do it that was his concern.
He cursed.
These bastards are good.
54
Ostrava, Czech Republic
Acton pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store, taking a moment to assess the situation. The windshield had half a dozen splintered impact sites, the glass clearly bullet-resistant, which meant it could still be driven with hopefully little attention drawn to it, especially on the highway.
Though that wasn’t what he should be doing. He should be going to the nearest police station and reporting what happened. Yet that wasn’t a good idea, as it could take hours before he might get in touch with the right people, and the Amber Room would be lost forever.
He needed to phone Reading. He’d know what to do. Unfortunately, he had no phone, and if he went to find one, the trucks again could be lost.
But they already are!
The two transport trucks had continued down the highway when they had pulled off to switch vehicles. He had no way of finding them.
Unless you follow the new vehicles.
His decision was made. Laura was safe, and now he had to protect this precious find. He pulled out of the parking lot and hammered on the gas, knowing this could be a colossally stupid move, but determined not to let one of the greatest finds in modern history be lost to a bunch of thieves.
55
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
“I think I found him.”
Leroux turned to Tong. “Who is he?”
Tong motioned to the display, a man badly in need of a haircut shown. “If he’s who I think he is, he’s a Danish citizen living in Copenhagen, working for a local newspaper. His Dark Web profile seems to suggest he fancies himself a bit of a player, but from what I can tell, he just puts up posts claiming to have information on things that other users claim never pan out.”
“But this one might have.”
Tong nodded. “Yup.”
Child spun. “But how did you make the link to the real world?”
Tong shrugged. “Easy. He’s an idiot.”
Leroux chuckled. “Explain.”
“He uses the same handle on the Dark Web as he does on Twitter. His Twitter profile links to his Facebook profile, and he liked the damned photo our Polish heavy equipment operator posted.”
Leroux laughed, shaking his head. “A true genius. If only they were all so easy to find. Do you have an address on him?”
“Yes, sir. Are we going to pick him up?”
Leroux shook his head. “Not our job. Pass it on to Agent Reading. He’ll make sure it gets followed up on.”
56
Inselhotel Potsdam
Potsdam, Germany
“I’m so glad you told me.”
Tommy tore his eyes away from his laptop. “What? That I love you?”
“Yes. It takes away so much of the pressure.”
“Yeah, I know! I mean, I feel so much better now that that’s out of the way.”
Mai smiled. “I know, but…”
Tommy tensed. “What?”
“Well, I don’t know what to do now.”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
She stared at the bedspread. “Well, umm, I’ve never really loved anyone before.”
Tommy laughed, his tension relieved. “Me neither!” He paused, then decided to go for broke. “You know, umm, I’ve been thinking of getting my own place. I’m making some coin now, and I think it’s time.”
Mai continued to stare at the bedding. “You could, you know, move in with me.”
Tommy’s heart hammered and his eyes shot wide open. “Really! I mean, you don’t think it’s too fast?”
Mai shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe it is, but it feels right.”
He grabbed her and hugged her. “I love you so much!”
She laughed, finally making eye contact again. “I love you too!”
He kissed her, gently, enjoying her soft lips, then opened his mouth slightly, gripping the back of her head with his hand as he pulled her tighter against him, the kiss building into something more urgent, more demanding. He reached down and drew her closer to him, grinding his hips into hers, and they both groaned.
And the laptop beeped.
He growled in frustration.
“What is it?”
He rolled away and checked the laptop, his eyes widening. “We’ve got a match to the plate from the SUV I pulled earlier. The one that Professor Acton was in when he entered the tunnel. It was spotted in Ostrava.”
He tapped at the computer, bringing up the footage and playing it from the time index indica
ted by his alert.
And gasped.
“Isn’t that Professor Acton driving!”
57
Ostrava, Czech Republic
Acton followed the two white SUVs as they headed toward the highway. They had driven right by him mere minutes after he had made his decision to pursue them, and he had left several cars between them and him, hoping they wouldn’t notice him in their rearview mirrors. One of the vehicles turned onto the onramp, the other continuing past, filling him with doubt as to what was going on, and who to follow.
He made a split-second decision, not knowing which contained the man who seemed to be the leader of this operation.
Though it didn’t matter.
He jerked his wheel to the right, onto the onramp, committing. Who was in the vehicle in front of him was irrelevant. He knew they’d be eventually meeting up with the trucks. All he had to do was sit back in traffic, remain unnoticed, and eventually they’d lead him to the Amber Room.
And hopefully Laura had already contacted the authorities, and by then they would have found him, since he planned on sticking his face out the window at every camera he spotted.
He glanced in his rearview mirror and gasped as a white SUV rushed toward him then slammed into his rear end, sending him careening across his lane and sideswiping another vehicle. Brakes locked up all around him, but he resisted the urge, instead hammering on the gas and surging the SUV out of the chaos.
He checked his rearview mirror and spotted the white SUV emerging behind him, much slower, and cursed. He checked his gauges, and everything seemed in order, the vehicle clearly customized so that rear-end collisions didn’t trigger a fuel cutoff like so many vehicles did today.
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