Acton smiled, their troubles forgotten if only for a brief moment.
A Jaguar with what appeared to be at least a dozen parking tickets tucked under the windshield wipers was being loaded onto the back of a tow truck.
“Fifty quid says he abandoned it.”
Acton laughed. “Or he parked it near the Vatican, hoping for a miracle.”
“There.”
They both looked toward where Laura was pointing, a green car with a Fiat badge on the back, idling at the curb. They approached and the front passenger door was thrown open.
“Get in, quickly!”
Acton said nothing, hauling open the rear door, helping Laura inside then climbing in himself as Reading slammed the front door shut. The driver launched them from the curb the moment his ass hit the seat.
“Professor Acton?”
Acton nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m Mr. Verde.” He handed a cellphone between the seats. “Here, someone wants to talk to you.”
Approaching Albany, New York
Lee Fang peered out the window of the Cessna Citation CJ4 that had been waiting for her. Kane had arranged everything, the package delivery, the cellphone call, the car waiting downstairs for her, the private plane at the airport.
He was good.
Damned good.
It reminded her of the old days. Military precision. She missed it. She missed it all. She had been stunned to receive a phone call from Kane, and even more so when he had asked for her help. It was like a dream come true, her prayers, if she believed in that sort of thing, answered.
Action!
It’s what she had been craving for so long.
Purpose!
She had been desperate to slay the idleness that had taken over so much of her life. There was only so much exercise she could do without that in itself driving her crazy. Yet now here she was, winging into an airport on a private plane to meet up with a CIA agent who needed her help.
Maybe they’ll give me a job.
She doubted it. Her agreement with the Americans specifically stated no jobs with any level of government, and she had specifically made them agree that they could never force her to betray her country in order for them to continue to honor the deal.
Her country may think of her as a traitor, but she wasn’t.
The men I named were the traitors.
Who was guilty of what were semantics when it came to the Chinese government. They had been embarrassed, they had been caught, and the fact they had let America effectively flatten a major research facility buried in the side of a mountain, without so much as a peep, meant they realized they were in the wrong, and were just thankful that was the limit of the retaliation.
Nothing had made the news, the Americans had said nothing of the Chinese involvement publicly, and all was forgiven.
Or so it would appear. She having zero access to any type of intel meant she was as in the dark as any other citizen of her adopted country.
The plane touched down with a chirp of the wheels, the pilot having said nothing to her the entire trip, it clear he was not civilian by his demeanor.
It was just as well, small talk never her strong suit.
She sat quietly as the plane taxied off the runway, soon coming to a stop. The pilot turned to her and pointed at a black SUV sitting nearby. “Keys are in the ignition, details are on a phone on the passenger seat. Password is your birth year.”
She smiled.
Time for some fun!
Outside St. Peter’s Square, Rome, Italy
Luca Abbadelli sat in his nondescript pale blue Alfa Romeo Giulietta, watching his adversary change a flat tire, a tire Abbadelli had punctured only a few minutes ago. It was essential that Acton and his entourage had time to get away cleanly, and delaying their tail by ten minutes would almost guarantee that.
Kane had contacted him not even an hour ago for some help, help he was only too happy to provide, Kane having saved his ass in Syria just last year. And that was the nature of this business. You helped each other when you could, usually no questions asked, nothing expected in return, because you never knew when it would be your ass on the line, needing that same help.
He reached over for his phone, his target getting his own call. The man climbed into his car and shut the door, Abbadelli shaking his head as he watched the jack move slightly at the shift in weight, then smiled as the engine roared to life, the Bluetooth he had noted earlier coming to life, his adversary having foolishly paired the phone.
Allowing the bug Abbadelli had placed to pick up both sides of the conversation.
“Status?” They were speaking German, a language Abbadelli was fortunately fluent in. And not much of a surprise after reading Kane’s briefing notes.
“I lost them.”
“You idiot! How the hell could you possibly lose them? They’re in a hotel room!”
“They took a cab to the Vatican then exited a different gate. I followed them on foot and spotted them getting into a vehicle. I think it was waiting for them.”
There was a pause. “It sounds like they have somebody helping them.”
“Yes, sir, it would appear so.”
“Police?”
“I don’t think so, I never saw any police and the car was definitely not police. Just a plain old Fiat, nothing even their undercover people would be caught dead in.”
“Your plan to reacquire them?”
“They had no luggage, so they’ll have to return to the hotel at some point. I’ll pick them up there.”
“Can you track their phones?”
“Negative. It looks like they left them all behind, at least that’s what the computer is saying.”
“That would seem to confirm that they’re up to something.”
“I agree. I have a flat tire that I’m changing. I’ll be back at the hotel in about twenty minutes. Hopefully we’ll get lucky.”
“You better hope you do, otherwise the Doctor will want a word with you.”
Abbadelli’s eyes narrowed slightly. Doctor? Whoever the man was, his mention clearly had an impact on the man.
“Y-yes, sir.”
There was a pause. “Professor Acton seems to have not followed my instructions. He has obviously contacted someone. It may be time to kill the mother, to assure him we are serious.”
“Umm, sir, how would you tell him?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, they left their phones. There’s no way to tell him that his mother is dead. I’ll get back to the hotel and put the word out on that car that picked him up. We should be able to trace it eventually.”
“If you haven’t found them in the next sixty minutes, his mother loses a finger, one every hour he is missing. We’ll contact Inspector General Giasson to let him know. Surely he has some way of contacting him.”
“Yes, sir, I’m sure he does.”
Abbadelli started his car, pulling out into traffic, it essential he reach the hotel before his adversary did.
For he knew something they didn’t.
Mario Giasson had no way to contact Acton, and Mrs. Acton losing fingers wasn’t part of the plan.
Leaving Vatican City, Rome, Italy
“Hello?”
“Hey, Doc, it’s me, Dylan. You guys secure?”
Acton smiled, mouthing ‘Dylan’ to the others, the tension of the past few minutes easing slightly knowing his former student was now involved. It didn’t mean his parents were safe, but it at least meant there was now hope.
“We’re in the car you sent for us. Not sure if that counts as secure.”
Kane chuckled. “True. You can trust Mr. Verde, he’s one of my go-to guys. He’s going to take you to a safe house and we’ll talk more.”
“Dylan, they’ve got my parents.”
“I know, I’ve already been called in on that case. Unofficially of course. The phone calls you’ve received were traced to a castle in northern Italy, same place your phone was apparently sitting until it was deact
ivated.”
“That sounds about right.”
“It appears to be their base of operations.”
“Any idea who they are?”
“Not yet. I found several bugs in your parents’ house so I’m having my own parents’ house checked as well.”
Acton felt his stomach flip as he listened. To think that his parents’ conversations had been listened to, that their most intimate moments were recorded, was both sickening and outrageous.
And terrifying.
How long could they have been planning this?
It made no sense. The portrait hadn’t been known to exist until two days ago. He hadn’t even become involved until late the first night with Giasson’s phone call. How could they have possibly known to put bugs in his parents’ house?
“That doesn’t make sense. How could they have had time to do this?”
“They couldn’t. I don’t think the bugs have anything to do with the current situation. I noticed dust on one of the bugs in your parents’ house which means it had been there some time, long before this situation.”
Acton could feel a slow burn form in his stomach as his pulse quickened, the thoughts of someone listening in for weeks or months to his mom and dad’s conversations, enraging.
“Then who?”
“The Assembly would be my guess.”
Acton’s old shoulder wound throbbed at the mere mention of the organization that had kidnapped him and Laura, along with two of his students. Acton had been shot, one of the students severely injured, and they had all been traumatized by the incident.
But it was supposed to be over.
His rage turned to fear. “I thought they were out of our lives.”
“So did I, but I’m not going to lie to you, Doc, that can always change. In this case, however, I think the bugs are unrelated.”
“Did you remove them?”
“No, just in case they are related, I didn’t want them to know we were onto them. Once the current crisis is handled I’ll have all our houses swept, along with anyone else close to us, and make sure everything is removed and monitors put in place to notify us of any new signals.”
“So you think these bugs were in there since the Titanic incident.”
“Yes.”
“Somebody needs to put an end to those people.”
“All in good time, Doc. All in good time. But for now the primary objective is retrieving your parents.”
Acton nodded, pulling on his hair as he tried to calm himself. “Any idea where they are?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it. The only real lead we have at the moment is that castle. We’re going to have to infiltrate it and gather intel.”
“We’ll do whatever it takes.”
Kane laughed. “Doc, I have no doubt you would, and no doubt you’d succeed. You guys sit tight, I’m arranging for some specialists to join you. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ended and Acton handed the phone back, frustrated at the notion of sitting idly by while his parents were possibly tortured or worse.
Who could the specialists be?
Near Kane Family Residence, Albany, New York
Lee Fang pulled up to the designated coordinates, impressed, the scene exactly as she had been told to expect. In fact, she was impressed with the entire operation. Her government always touted the American stereotype of being fat and lazy, disorganized and weak, all symptoms of their love for inefficient and undesirable democracy and unbridled capitalism.
But if Dylan Kane were any indication of those that defended America from its enemies, she would have to advise her government that their official message was woefully inaccurate.
Kane had arranged everything perfectly, the delivery, the phone, the plane, the car, the supplies in its trunk.
Everything.
With none of his network comprised.
The only person she had seen was the pilot, and even then, she barely saw the man. He had a ball cap and shades, and had sat in the front with her in the back, directly behind his seat. If she had to describe him, she’d be able to give the sketch artist a detailed account of his right ear and cheek.
She climbed out of the SUV, surveying the area, several city vehicles, gas company, their orange lights flashing, parked in front of the address she had been given, emergency tape cordoning off the street.
Kane’s instructions indicated the neighborhood would be evacuated for a fictitious gas leak, the strong odor of rotten eggs greeting her suggesting the ruse went beyond a phone call. She headed down a street around the corner from Kane’s parents’ house and looked to make sure she was alone. She reached up and grabbed the top of the fence, jumping then swinging her legs over, dropping silently on the other side.
A dog barked in the distance.
She repeated her efforts twice more before she was in the backyard of the Kane residence, still undetected. Climbing the steps to the rear deck, she tried the patio door.
Locked.
She pulled up on the door, the entire frame lifting out of its track, a basic security flaw of too many older doors. She stepped inside, the alarm system instantly wailing in protest as she sprinted for the front entrance, quickly entering the code Kane had provided.
The alarm stopped.
Five seconds?
Less than.
She listened, there no sound from the street suggesting anyone had taken notice.
But she couldn’t take the chance someone had called it in, or the security company following up the alarm with a challenge call. She pulled out the phone and device Kane had left for her and activated it, quickly finding a listening device, oddly pleased to find what he had suspected was there.
It meant she had been useful.
The house phone rang.
She checked her watch.
Less than one minute.
Kudos to the security company.
She reset the alarm, leaving the same way she came as the system beeped its countdown, the phone still ringing. Performing her acrobatics again, she was soon back in the safety of her vehicle, starting the engine immediately, her training dictating being prepared for a fast getaway always prudent.
She dialed the number for Kane.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Hey, Fang. What did you find?”
“Exactly as you suspected. I found a bug in the phone and left immediately as you instructed. Did you want me to go back in and do a full sweep and remove them?”
“Negative. I don’t want them to know we’re onto them.”
“Who set them?”
“I can’t say, all I do know is that this pretty much confirms it has nothing to do with what I’m currently working on.”
She had to admit she felt disappointed. If this was unrelated, it probably meant he didn’t need her anymore.
And she so desperately wanted to be needed.
“Is that good?”
Kane chuckled. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you need any more help?” She hoped her voice didn’t betray her desperation too much.
“Yes.”
She grinned, catching herself in the mirror, wiping the excitement from her face.
“Get yourself to Germantown then call me. The plane is still waiting for you and a car will be here when you arrive.”
“Okay, I’m on my way.”
The call ended and she put the car in gear, pulling away from the curb, her heart racing with the excitement of being back in the game.
I missed this!
Giasson Residence, Via Nicolò III, Rome, Italy
“How are you feeling, my friend?”
Giasson put a hand on his shoulder, wincing, overplaying his injury, not wanting Chief Inspector Riva to think he was fully on his game. “Weak, in pain, but I’ll live.”
“You shouldn’t be here, you should be in the hospital.”
Giasson smiled weakly. “I hate hospitals. With a passion. I’d rather be in my own bed wit
h my wife’s cooking and God at my side.”
Riva frowned from his chair at the foot of Giasson’s bed. “Just remember that God put doctors on this earth for a reason. Denying them is like denying His help.”
Giasson chuckled then winced for real. “Too true. But don’t ever mention that to a doctor, they have enough of a God complex as it is.”
Riva laughed heartily, reminding Giasson of one of the many reasons he genuinely liked the man. He found it completely disheartening that he had to suspect his good friend of being the traitor in their midst, though if he examined the evidence, he was the prime suspect. The man knew about the portrait, knew where it would be and when, and it was men dressed as his police officers that had carried out the theft.
It has to be him.
The alternative was even more horrible to contemplate.
He nodded toward a stack of files on Riva’s lap. “What can you tell me?”
Riva waved the files. “Very interesting stuff. The security footage from the university gave us clear images of all the thieves. We’ve run the photos through our database and confirmed they were not police officers.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Indeed.”
“And the leader?”
“Nothing yet. I’ve sent all their photos to Interpol, maybe they’ll come up with something.”
Everything Giasson was hearing was exactly as he would expect to hear from an honest police officer doing his job. It had him seriously reconsidering his doubts about the man. So much so, the internal debate on whether or not to share the information about Acton’s phone and the castle it had been traced to, began to rage.
Prudence won out.
“Any idea how they knew where the portrait would be?”
Riva shook his head. “No, I told no one. I merely sent the detail. I was supposed to be there but I received a call where my presence was demanded.”
“Seems to be quite the coincidence.”
Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) Page 13