“No problem. We’ll make it. We always do.”
Tankov ignored the arrogance. “You’ve got the extra men I requested?”
The cigar was jabbed toward the ship. “Two dozen, heavily armed and experienced. Most of them have fought in the civil war for years. This is a vacation for them!” He laughed then stuffed the cigar back in his mouth. “If anyone tries to stop us, they’ll be in for one hell of a surprise.”
Tankov allowed himself a slight smile. “I expect so.”
Utkin walked over as the trucks behind him were closed up. “Everything is loaded. We’re done here.”
Tankov turned toward him. “Good. And our troublesome professor?”
“Still sedated.”
“Good. Let’s move, there’s no time to waste.”
64
Somewhere over Slovenia
Acton checked his lap belt as the flight attendant indicated they were about to land. It had been a quick jaunt to get to where Tommy and Interpol had confirmed the trucks had offloaded their cargo. Nobody had caught Laura on camera, but he had to assume she was on the ship, a ship apparently already in international waters.
And nobody seemed willing to do anything about it.
At least not yet.
And he wasn’t willing to wait.
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
He gripped the armrests as he looked over at Reading, his friend finally freeing him after hours more of interrogation. “Absolutely. But I’ll understand—”
“Bollocks! Don’t even suggest I stay behind.”
Acton chuckled. “I figured you wouldn’t, but I was giving you an out. You’re getting old, you know.”
“Sod off! Old my ass. Kick your ass any day,” muttered his friend.
Acton laughed. “I have no doubt.”
Reading turned in his seat. “In all seriousness, I’d love to know what your plan is if we actually catch up to them in this boat you’ve rented.”
Acton frowned. He had contacted their travel agent to book a high-speed boat in Koper, and as usual, she had come through, the boat already waiting, as well as a ride from the airport to the port. It had been the logical thing for him to do. He had to catch up to the ship and rescue Laura.
But Reading was right.
He had no plan.
“I have no idea. Exchange her for me?”
“They could very well take us both hostage.”
Acton jabbed a finger at him. “Which is why I told you to stay behind.”
“Not bloody likely.”
Acton sighed. “Well, if the Slovenians actually act, they should have the ship in custody by the time we get there.”
“And if they don’t?”
Acton growled in frustration. “Why wouldn’t they? I can’t understand why we haven’t heard back yet!”
Reading smiled slightly. “Maybe I should have said, ‘if they can’t.’”
“Then it will be up to us to find them and track them, at a minimum. Surely somebody will eventually help.”
Reading stared at him, serious. “So now we’re just tracking them, not exchanging your life for Laura’s?”
Acton sighed. “Okay, okay, I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is that I’m going after her.”
“Damn the torpedoes?”
Acton groaned. “Let’s just hope there’s none of those!”
65
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
“Sir, I just got a hit.”
Leroux stifled a yawn, his only rack time in the past two days, a couple of hours squeezed in earlier. Since they were restricted by what they could do, they were reliant upon gleaning information from legitimate sources, or sources outside the European Union. There had been jubilation at the word of Acton’s arrest, though short-lived once they realized Laura was still missing.
According to Interpol, a ship had sailed from the Slovenian port of Koper not even an hour ago, and governments were figuring out what to do now that it was in international waters.
He gave up and yawned. “What did you find?” he asked Sonya Tong.
“Laura Palmer just rented a high-speed boat in Slovenia.”
Leroux’s eyes narrowed as he sat up straight. “Huh? Did she escape?”
Tong shook her head. “No, it looks like it was done through an agency in London, with instructions that it would be picked up by Professor Acton.”
Child laughed as he spun in his chair. “That crazy bastard is going after her! He’s certifiable!”
Leroux agreed. “He is that.”
The door opened and Director Morrison entered, waving everybody off as they were about to rise. “Sit, I’m not the President.” He dropped in a seat across from Leroux. “We’ve got a complication.”
Leroux tensed. “What?”
“The Russians are coming.”
Leroux frowned as he processed this new bit of intel. “Let me guess. They want their Amber Room back, and will stop at nothing to get it?”
“Something like that. They caught wind through Interpol, and know about the ship that we think is carrying it. Are our guys still inbound?”
Leroux leaned over and looked at Tong who nodded. “Yes, sir. They just landed at Aviano, Italy. They’re deploying any minute now.”
Morrison pursed his lips, staring at the displays showing a map of where the boat was, the government’s response to the state of affairs, and the pesky Professor Acton about to insert his nose into another dangerous situation, something Leroux was quite certain his boss didn’t know about. “Okay, we’re just observers on this one, so let’s hope the timing works out. The Slovenians agreed to let the boat head into international waters so our guys can hit it.”
“No surprise there,” muttered Child. “They’re probably happy to be rid of it.”
Morrison grunted. “Exactly. The nearest Russian assets are at least an hour out, so if everything goes smoothly, we should get there first.”
Leroux cleared his throat, squirming slightly in his chair. “Umm, I’d hate to throw a wrinkle into the plan, but…”
Morrison closed his eyes, exhaling. “What has Professor Acton done now?”
Leroux was impressed his boss immediately made the leap. “He just rented himself a high-speed boat, and is in the air right now—”
“He’s landed,” interrupted Tong.
“—and has just landed, and is on his way to pick it up.”
Morrison cursed. “He could come up on the boat when our guys are assaulting it.”
Leroux frowned. “Or worse, he could show up when the Russians do.”
Morrison shook his head then rose. “Well, like I said, not our show, but pass that on to Washington so they can decide what to do with it.”
“Yes, sir.”
66
International Waters
The Adriatic Sea, off the coast of Croatia
“You know how to drive this thing?”
Acton gave Reading a look. “I don’t think you drive a boat. You pilot it.”
“You don’t think?” Reading growled. “Now I really feel confident in your abilities to pilot”—he delivered air quotes—“this thing.”
Acton chuckled as he peered ahead into the darkness, wishing he could just gun it, but nervous about hitting something else out on the water. “Just sit back and get comfortable. I have no idea how long it will take to catch up to them.”
“If we ever catch them. We have no idea where they’re going.”
Acton agreed. “Yes, but this is the Adriatic, not the Mediterranean. It’s only a hundred or so miles wide, and I’m guessing they’ll stay on the eastern side, away from Italy.”
“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”
Acton grinned. “Nope, just making it up as I go along, but someone has to keep you feeling warm and fuzzy. Just keep your eyes peeled. It’s a big ocean, and I don’t want to miss them.”
“Sea.”
&n
bsp; “Potayto, potawto.” He checked his compass, making sure they were still on course. “According to the last update from Tommy, they should be on this course. I can’t see them mixing it up much. That would just waste time, and I’m sure they’re in a hurry.”
“At this speed, we’re liable to run right into the back of them.”
Acton shrugged. “Well, I did ask for a high-speed boat. Just be thankful she didn’t rent us a cigarette boat.”
“Is that one of those really long things?”
“Yup. No need for that though, we’re just chasing a cargo ship, so it can’t move that fast.”
Reading stared into the dark. “And again I ask, when we get there, what the hell are we going to do?”
Acton smiled, patting his pocket. “We use the satellite phone to call in its position, then wait for the cavalry.”
Reading grunted. “Well, I’m glad you’ve thought this through at least partway.”
Acton’s eyes narrowed, stealing a glance at his friend. “Partway?”
“Yes, partway. You are aware that modern ships have radar?”
Acton tapped his. “Yup. Got one right here.”
“Right. So don’t you think they’ll get a little suspicious when they pick us up on radar, then hold position?”
Acton tensed, his eyes narrowing as a frown spread. “Huh. Hadn’t thought of that. I figured we’d just stay well away from them.”
“In the dark? If they don’t have their lights on, you won’t see them until we’re on top of them.”
“The radar will spot them.”
“Yes, and if you can see them, then they can see you too. You’ll have to—”
Reading was drowned out by a thundering sound overhead, a bright light suddenly illuminating them from bow to stern.
“What the bloody hell is that?” cried Reading as he leaped to his feet, shielding his eyes.
“I think it’s a chopper.”
“Of course it’s a bloody chopper, it’s not a UFO!”
Acton struggled to hear what was now being said over a speaker, but couldn’t make it out.”
“Cut the engine.”
Acton’s eyes went wide at Reading’s suggestion. “Are you kidding me? They could be hostile!”
“If they’re hostile, they’ll just open fire. If they’re not, but they think we are because we don’t obey their orders, they might open fire regardless.”
Acton cursed and cut the engines. “Good point.” As they came to a halt, he and Reading stepped out of the cabin and onto the aft deck, where he could finally hear what was being said.
And it shocked the hell out of him.
“Professor Acton, prepare to be brought aboard.”
He turned to Reading. “Umm, did he just say what I think he said?”
A harness lowered toward them, answering the question for Reading. “I guess so. Who the bloody hell is it?”
Acton shrugged. “No idea, but they sounded American at least, so I guess we can trust them.”
Reading eyed him. “Right, because there are no bad Americans.”
Acton grinned. “Glad you finally realized that!” He reached up and grabbed the harness. “Umm, you first?”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Sorry, I’m married.” He fit himself into the harness, then gave the line a tug, saying a silent prayer that this wasn’t a huge mistake. He was lifted off the deck and swung away from the boat, sending a surge of adrenaline through his system. He wasn’t sure who would be at the end of this line, though he had his suspicions.
He just hoped they proved correct.
67
Over International Waters
The Adriatic Sea, off the coast of Croatia
Command Sergeant Major Burt “Big Dog” Dawson steadied the line as he watched the man he had once tried to kill, smile up at him. If he were now asked to define their relationship, he would say Acton was a friend he usually saw on the battlefield. A comrade-in-arms on too many occasions.
A man he still owed to this day.
And would continue to owe until the day he died.
He was the leader of Bravo Team, in his opinion, and many others, the toughest bunch of Special Forces operators in the elite Delta Force, officially 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta. And they had been duped into killing a group of innocents that still haunted them all to this day.
Which was why, when Acton or his wife needed help, they would always try to be there, though tonight they would have been here regardless.
He pulled a grinning Acton inside.
“I had a feeling it was you guys.”
Dawson smiled as he shook the professor’s hand. “You’re lucky it was. We’ve got Russians inbound.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Acton as he shook hands with the rest of the team, all familiar faces to the man.
“Langley let us know where you were, so we figured we better pick you up before you got in the way.” He peered down at the boat. “I assume that’s Agent Reading down there.”
“You assume correctly.”
“Should we get him?”
Acton laughed. “You better, otherwise he’s going to be impossible in the morning.”
Dawson chuckled then handed the harness over to Sergeant Carl “Niner” Sung. “You do the honors while I brief our guest.”
“Yes’m!” Niner leaned out, taking over the recovery operation.
Acton peered over the edge at the boat. “Umm, are we just going to leave it there?”
Niner glanced over his shoulder. “What, Doc, you didn’t take the insurance when you rented her?”
Acton gave him a look. “Not exactly a car rental.”
“So that would be a no.”
Master Sergeant Mike “Red” Belme laughed. “Lifestyles of the rich and famous.”
Acton patted the fuselage. “Not exactly a cheap chariot you’re in either, Sergeant.”
Red rubbed the seat. “No leather here, Doc.”
“Uh huh.”
Dawson leaned over to see Reading fitting himself into the harness. “Don’t worry, Doc, we’ll send someone to pick it up as soon as the mission is over.” He turned to Sergeant Leon “Atlas” James. “Call in the coordinates so I’m not made a liar. I’d hate to lose the professor’s yacht.”
“I’d hardly call it a yacht.”
Atlas’ impossibly deep voice rumbled through the cabin. “No, you wouldn’t. Millions would, but you wouldn’t.”
Reading was hauled inside and stumbled into a seat between Sergeants Will “Spock” Lightman and Jerry “Jimmy Olsen” Hudson, cursing the entire time. He looked about. “I was hoping it was you lot. What are you doing here?”
Dawson signaled the all-clear to Sergeant Zach “Wings” Hauser, piloting the Black Hawk, and the chopper dipped forward as they resumed course for their target. Niner slid the door closed, reducing the noise level considerably.
“Agent Reading, good to see you.” Dawson exchanged a handshake. “The Russians caught wind that the Amber Room was discovered, and they’re laying claim to it. Through their liaison connections with Interpol, they found out about the ship it’s on, and have sent a team to retrieve it.”
“Lovely.”
“Exactly what Washington was thinking.”
“So why are you here? America isn’t exactly involved in this.”
“The Poles say it’s theirs, since it was found on their soil, and they asked us, as in the US, to intervene on their behalf the moment it hit international waters. We happened to be returning from an op, so were tasked with the recovery operation.”
Acton leaned forward to be heard. “How far are we from the ship?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“And the Russians?” asked Reading.
“Thirty.”
“Lovely.”
Acton shook his head. “So we need to secure the boat before they arrive.”
Dawson nodded. “Exactly. If we don’t, they’re probably
going to open fire and kill everything in sight.”
Acton’s face slackened. “Including Laura.”
Dawson’s face was grim. “I’m afraid that’s a possibility.”
Acton gripped his seat. “Can’t this thing go any faster!”
68
Approaching Target Vessel
The Adriatic Sea, off the coast of Croatia
Dawson gunned the engine of the inflatable zodiac, and raced toward the black silhouette on the horizon. As soon as they had a visual on the ship, they had deployed the boat, and he had jumped with four of his men. Wings had backed off the chopper to allow them to board the vessel, hopefully without the hostiles becoming aware, but time was ticking.
The Russians were closing in fast, and the latest update from Control was that there was no stopping them. They wanted their Amber Room, and would stop at nothing to get it. Half a billion dollars of Russian pride was stored in crates aboard the vessel, thought lost to history.
He just hoped that whatever happened over the next few minutes, left it intact and undamaged, along with Laura Palmer.
They pulled up to the stern, no indication so far they had been observed, their approach covered by the noise of the massive screws. They were now only feet from the port side of the ship, and he activated his comm. “Zero-Two, Zero-One. Status?”
His second in command and best friend, Red, responded with an update from a drone overhead, monitoring the deck and its hostiles. “You’re clear, over.”
“Copy that. Proceeding.” Dawson launched a pneumatically fired grappling hook, and watched as it sailed through the air, dragging a rope behind it. It reached the deck, its rubberized membrane deadening the thud. He yanked it back, tightening up the slack before it caught. He gave it a few good tugs then rushed up the side of the ship, a mid-sized cargo vessel with no lights on from bow to stern.
He reached the railing and lowered his night vision goggles, spotting no one in the immediate vicinity, though there were half a dozen armed men about halfway down the deck, and more could appear at any moment. He swung over the railing, signaling the all-clear with a tug of the rope, then readied his suppressed MP5 as he slowly advanced toward the blind spot at the stern.
The Nazi's Engineer Page 17