Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  I wonder if it would have worked as well if Neil Patrick Harris were actually straight.

  He had a feeling it wouldn’t have.

  Sherrie climbed into the passenger seat, leaning over and giving him a peck on the cheek. “Hey, Dylan, good to see you.”

  “You too. Glad you could make it.”

  She shrugged. “Not like I’m doing anything. Chris is holed up in an op center and not allowed to leave until the Chief is convinced he’s safe, and I’m not scheduled for another op ’til the end of the week.”

  “So you’re bored.”

  She grinned. “Yup. Chief agreed I could help.”

  “You can. We need to figure out which, if any, of these vehicles might be our kidnappers’.”

  Sherrie scanned the list on the tablet, still several dozen vehicles on it. “I’d eliminate any that weren’t leaving the city.”

  Kane smiled slightly. Sherrie was new to the business, at least compared to him, and he always liked to see how junior agent’s minds worked—it gave him an insight into how they might perform later in their career. The ones who could think logically were always more successful.

  Time to shine, Padawan.

  “Why?” he asked, challenging her to explain her logic.

  “They wouldn’t stay local, they’d risk questions from nosy neighbors in a small town like this.”

  “Agreed, just like the tip that sent us here in the first place.”

  “Exactly. They’ll want to be heading for an urban center so they can lose themselves in a crowd. I’d eliminate anyone that was heading into the town center, rather than leaving.”

  “Okay.” Kane took the tablet and added some filter criteria to the list. “That leaves ten vehicles, much better. And one of those is the stolen one the FBI is running down.”

  Sherrie shook her head. “No, the vehicle would be clean.”

  “Very good, young Padawan.”

  She grinned. “Learned from the best.”

  “They do know what they’re doing on the Farm.” He pointed at the tablet, a grid of nine vehicles showing. “Okay, which ones do you think we can eliminate.”

  She pointed at one of the vehicles, the rear shot showing large custom exhaust. “Those would be loud and attract too much attention. No way they’d use it.”

  “Agreed.” He tapped the display, eliminating it from the grid.

  She pointed at another one. “Kid in the passenger seat.”

  Kane eliminated it.

  “And that one.” She pointed again. “And that one.”

  “Five left.”

  “That one has only the driver, that one too.”

  “And then there were three.”

  Sherrie looked at him, smiling. “Much more manageable.”

  “And there’s three of us.”

  Sherrie’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s the third?”

  He pointed toward a vehicle as it drove by, parking in front of them. The engine turned off and the door opened, the lithe form of Lee Fang stepping out.

  Sherrie’s jaw dropped. “Is that who I think it is?”

  Kane smiled. “Yup.”

  Somewhere over the Atlantic

  “Man, I could get used to this.”

  Dawson nodded in agreement at Jimmy’s comment. The Gulf V jet that Laura arranged for them was opulent compared to the back of a Herc.

  Niner sighed. “I knew I should have married her when I had the chance.”

  Sergeant Eugene “Jagger” Thomas snorted. “Right. I’m not sure she even knows you exist.”

  “Oh, we shared a moment.”

  “Was she there for this moment?”

  Niner gave Jagger a look. “Her exact position on the globe is of no importance in my fantasy life.”

  “Hey, that’s another man’s wife you’re talking about,” rumbled Atlas. “And besides, I do believe it was me who first commented on how fine she was, which means I have first dibs if it doesn’t work out with the doc.”

  Niner pointed a finger at him. “Hey, you’re so close to being married you shouldn’t even be thinking that way.”

  Atlas’ eyes flared slightly. “Yeah, well, let’s not rush things.”

  “Ooh, I do think someone’s afraid of commitment.”

  “Hey, who said anything about commitment?”

  The comm system beeped and everyone became quiet as Dawson put it on speaker. “Go head.”

  “Hey, it’s Dylan.”

  “Hey buddy, you’re on speaker with me, Niner, Atlas, Jimmy, Spock and Jagger.”

  “Hey guys. I’ll cut to the chase, we’re on a deadline. We’re trying to trace the vehicle that was spotted leaving the Acton residence, but there’s not much to go on. We’ve got it narrowed down to I think three possibilities, but the FBI disagrees. They’re off chasing down a stolen car.”

  Niner shook his head. “Pros use clean vehicles.”

  “That’s the consensus at this end as well.”

  Dawson leaned forward. “What can you tell us about this castle in Italy?”

  “I’ve had Leroux send you floor plans and everything else we’ve got, but the plans are almost seventy years out of date so we have no way of knowing if the owner has made any modifications.”

  “Who’s the owner?”

  “It looks like it was bought by a Swiss national named Hermann Kaufer in 1946, just after the war. Apparently he promised to restore it, which he did. He got approval from city council to later amend the agreement turning it into a completely private residence, all previously allowed public tours cancelled.”

  “Going in as tourists would have made things easier,” said Jagger.

  “Off the table, unfortunately. But get this. We’re monitoring heavy Internet traffic in and out of the place, a lot of heat signatures, dozens of vehicles and what looks like armed patrols.”

  “They definitely value their privacy. Any idea how many hostiles?”

  “Hard to tell, but Langley is thinking it could be as high as two hundred.”

  “Jesus,” muttered Jimmy, making an exaggerated count of the team. “I think we’re outnumbered a little.”

  “Who owns it now?” asked Dawson. “1946 is a long time ago.”

  “It looks like the original owner died and left it to his son who’s listed as the current owner.”

  Dawson nodded. “Okay, we’re going to need to know every way in and out of that place. I mean sewers, drains, tunnels, anything you can get us. Also, monitor those patrols. I want to know if there are any patterns.”

  “Langley’s on it.”

  “What kind of support can we expect?”

  “Nada on the ground, unfortunately.”

  “We’re used to that,” said Niner.

  “I’ve got gear waiting for when you arrive.”

  Dawson looked at a tablet computer, an update coming in from Langley. “And when we get there, what’s the mission?”

  “Right now we’re trying to find the doc’s parents and rescue them. The key to finding them may be inside that castle.”

  Dawson frowned. “If these people were willing to kidnap them once, and apparently keep them for an extended period, they won’t hesitate to try again, or take someone else important to the professor to keep him quiet.”

  Niner leaned forward. “It sounds to me like this castle is important to them, otherwise they’d just pull up stakes and move.”

  “Agreed,” replied Kane. “That’s what I’m thinking too. They must have too much invested in there to leave, so they want everyone’s silence guaranteed.”

  Dawson pinched his chin. “Sounds to me like the only way to put an end to this is to end their ties to that castle. Force them out somehow, then the doc doesn’t know anything of value.”

  “Agreed. Any ideas?”

  “We could always blow it up,” offered Niner.

  “You want to blow everything up,” said Atlas.

  “Hey, a man has to have a hobby.”

  Kane chuckled. “I don’t th
ink you’ll have enough C4 for that.”

  Dawson nodded, pursing his lips as he flipped through the plans for the castle. “I think we need to start thinking in terms of less is more.”

  “You’ve got an idea?”

  “I think so.”

  CIA Safe House, Rome, Italy

  “Please stay away from the windows, Professor.”

  Acton growled at Dylan’s contact, Mr. Verde, without looking at him. They had been cooped up in the safe house for hours and he couldn’t stand it. He was a man of action, not one to sit idly by while others did all the heavy lifting. And what was most frustrating was at the moment, it felt as if nobody was doing any lifting.

  Yes, Delta was on its way, but they were hours out, and Kane was doing everything he could back home. The problem was he couldn’t see any of it, all he could picture was the most gruesome images of his parents being tortured for something he had impulsively done.

  He wanted to be doing something. He wanted to kick the shit out of whoever had taken them, tear the throat out of the man who seemed to be the ringleader.

  Yet he couldn’t be the leader.

  The leader wouldn’t go on the heist, not in an organization that big. And he was assuming it was big if they were able to kidnap his parents half a world away so quickly. It meant they had people probably across the globe, able to project their will on command.

  Christ, they’re like the Triarii.

  He shivered at the thought of the ancient organization obsessed with the crystal skulls. It had been his accidental discovery of a skull that had led to the events that pulled them all together several years ago, Bravo Team trying to kill him due to false intel, he fleeing to find Laura, the world’s foremost expert on the skulls, and Reading trying to arrest him because he thought he had committed a murder.

  All because of the Triarii, an apparently benevolent order that had split, resulting in a civil war, for lack of a better term.

  Air burst from his lips and he sat down, grabbing the laptop to review the intel Kane had sent.

  “They wouldn’t be there.”

  Reading looked up at him. “Who?”

  “My parents.”

  “No.”

  “We need leverage over them.”

  Laura shifted in her seat. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they obviously want the portrait. What if we stole it back?”

  Reading’s eyebrows rose. “Umm, Kane’s report suggests possibly two hundred people facing us. It would be suicide.”

  Laura leaned over and took his hand. “Sweetheart, BD and the guys will be here by the morning. Let’s just get some sleep and let them deal with it, okay?”

  “No, I can’t.” Acton leapt to his feet. “It’s my parents.” He spun toward the CIA agent who was reading a local paper in the far corner of the room. “Can you get me a weapon?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. But I won’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have my orders and they’re to keep you here.”

  “So we’re prisoners?”

  “Of course not, you’re free to die at any time.”

  Acton frowned. “Funny.”

  Verde shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”

  Acton dropped back into his chair, frustrated. Laura rose and stepped behind him, kneading his shoulders. “They’ll be okay. As long as we follow their demands.”

  Acton closed his eyes, her ministrations feeling wonderful. “Yeah, but how do we know what their demands are? We don’t have our phones anymore, so we have no way of knowing if they’re calling.”

  “Not true.” Acton looked at Verde. “Your phones have been cloned and all calls are being routed through Langley. They’ll know if anyone calls.”

  Acton shook his head.

  “Yeah, but they can’t answer.”

  Rocca d'Angera Castle, Angera, Italy

  “What do you mean you don’t think they’re in the hotel room?”

  Obersturmbannführer Hofmeister glared at his tech, Karl. He had been roused from the first sleep he’d managed to get in days, caffeine and uppers keeping him going until he had finally crashed. The report from Rome had been that the Actons and their friend had returned to the hotel room by the time their operative had returned, their excursion apparently a prearranged meeting with a contact of Giasson’s, at least according to the overheard conversation upon their return.

  It seemed plausible. They would all know they were most likely being followed, their phones being tracked. It didn’t necessarily mean they had contacted the authorities. He knew from his contacts in the United States that the authorities were involved there thanks to a neighbor of Acton’s parents. He wasn’t about to kill them over actions Acton had no control over. If he did, then he’d lose the leverage he had over the man.

  Though if what Karl had just said were true, it changed everything. He dropped into a chair, exhausted.

  “Well, our man lost them at the Vatican when they got into another car, so it was clearly planned. Then he had a flat tire, which I think is too big a coincidence, so that delayed his return to the hotel. By the time he got there, they were already back, which meant their ride essentially just picked them up and drove them back.”

  “You woke me for that?” Hofmeister leapt to his feet, heading for the door. “I know all that.” He grabbed his throbbing forehead. “Please, for your sake, tell me you have more.”

  Karl gulped. “Well, our bug suggests they went to sleep immediately, and they’re all still asleep. I mean, nobody has even got up to go to the bathroom. So I checked Professor Palmer’s phone and found it had never left the hotel room, even when they left.”

  “So? They knew we were probably tracking it.”

  “Yes, but, sir, if your parents were kidnapped, and you were waiting for a phone call from the kidnappers, would you ever let that phone out of your sight?”

  Hofmeister frowned, pursed his lips, then nodded.

  “Have our man check the room.”

  Near Acton Residence, Germantown, Maryland

  Kane turned to face the back seat as Fang climbed in. He had forgotten how beautiful she was, in a minimalist sort of way. He had a serious thing for Asian women, and she was a prime specimen, the thought of making a move on her exhilarating, especially knowing she’d have a better than most chance of actually killing him.

  Focus, Barney!

  “You made good time.”

  Fang shrugged. “I drove efficiently.”

  Sherrie extended her hand. “Hi Fang, not sure if you remember me. Sherrie White.”

  Fang shook the hand. “Yes, I remember. How are you?”

  “Good, you?”

  Fang shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

  Kane looked at her, detecting a note of melancholy in her voice.

  I’ll have to talk to her when this is all over.

  “Okay, here’s the situation. We’ve got three possibles so far and little time.” He handed the tablet back to Fang so she could see the images of the SUVs that met the narrowed criteria. “We’ll each take one, but surveillance only. You look, assess, then we make a best guess. Do not attempt contact, understood?”

  Sherrie nodded. “Yup.”

  Fang nodded, handing back the tablet.

  Kane pointed at the first vehicle. “I’ll take number one, Sherrie number two, and Fang, you take the third. Your two are close to each other, mine’s about half an hour in the opposite direction.” His fingers worked the display, sending the data to each of their phones. Sherrie looked at hers.

  “This looks like a corporate vehicle.”

  Kane nodded. “Yeah, the guy was probably here on business. The other two are personal so we’re probably rolling up on houses.” He looked from Sherrie to Fang. “Good luck, ladies, and be careful. We don’t know who we’re dealing with.”

  “You don’t think it’s the Assembly?”

  “The what?”

  Kane glanced at Fang, Sherrie’s eyes widening slightly at her faux
pas. “You didn’t hear that, and no, I’m confident it’s not.” He could tell from Fang’s expression that her curiosity had been piqued. Whose wouldn’t be? He’d have to make sure he talked to her later to make certain she didn’t try to seek out more information, otherwise she might add herself to the Assembly’s hit list.

  And she had no leverage over them.

  Outside the Ambasciatori Palace Hotel, Rome, Italy

  Joachim Freitag’s eyes bulged. “Yes, sir, I’ll check right away.” He ended the call and climbed out of his car, rushing across the street and into the luxury hotel, it far nicer than anything he had ever been fortunate enough to stay in. He had grown up in the castle, he a direct descendent of one of the founding fathers. Life was good there though sparse, a loyal subject of the future Reich expected to live a rather Spartan existence, luxuries merely a waste. He had noted, however, that those limitations didn’t seem to be forced upon the officers.

  But he was merely a foot soldier, like his father before him. Like his grandfather had explained to him before he died, not everyone could be officers. Officers needed reliable soldiers under their command to actually carry out the orders, and the Fourth Reich would need millions of them, millions that would be provided by the research they were conducting, and the new recruits who would flock to their cause when the world hit its low point.

  Just like the Third Reich did in Germany during the Great Depression, the Fourth would arise from the ashes of today’s chaotic world.

  With a little help.

  The elevator chimed, the doors opening on one of the top floors, everything a large suite here. He had read the files on his subjects and noted that apparently the woman was extremely rich. As he walked through the opulent hallway, it made him wonder what life must be like never having to lift a finger, never having to answer to anyone.

  He frowned at the thought.

  Germans are not indulgent.

  At least not the foot soldiers.

  He put an ear to their door and heard nothing. Knocking gently, he continued to listen, and still heard nothing.

  Harder this time.