by Tom Haase
Whoever is shooting isn’t trying to kill me.
She froze, not wanting to move to indicate she received the message to stay in place. Her phone started ringing. With a measured slow movement, she retrieved it from her pocket. No more shots came near her. She slowly rose to her feet as she answered the phone and heard the voice she dreaded.
“Miss Donavan, this is a reminder I am watching you. I can find you anywhere, any time, any place. Your time is running out. Do not fail to deliver me my money or the next time there will be no warning shots.” Schultz ended the call.
That bastard. He did this to scare the hell out of me. She rushed into the building. She didn’t need this right now. It was going to be hard enough to get the icon without this added intimidation.
“I won’t let you win,” she said aloud to bolster her spirits and to allow the adrenalin to wane. She thought it would be better to keep this to herself. Telling Matt wouldn’t help. Telling Gerti at this time would certainly not be the best course of action because she couldn’t predict the girl’s reaction to what her father had done this time. She decided to query Gerti on what she told her father about their activities. Somehow he knew her movements. The shooter, she concluded, wasn’t Schultz but one of his hirelings. That explained the delay from the time of the shots to the phone call. The shooter would have told Schultz when to call her. Besides, Shultz wouldn't do his own dirty work. Too much of a rich asshole for that.
There existed only one hope of getting Schultz off her tail, get that icon and then to force Jonathan to live up to his promise of payment. But first, she had to get it.
* * * *
Karim arrived back at the camp late that afternoon. He called the men together for a meeting. Now that he had taken command, he needed to get his plan in place and he had to do it quickly. On the drive back from Savannah, he formulated his course of action. When the men gathered in front of the commander’s shack, Karim walked out and stood on the porch.
He surveyed his new dominion. The vast spaces of the Blue Ridge Mountains provided a superb place to stay unnoticed and to conduct training. Over the last week the size of the camp had diminished considerably. Two men lost at Higgins’s apartment, three lost at that safe house, and one commander permanently retired. This left only six in camp and two of them were out of action due to broken limbs suffered in training.
“I am assuming command of this unit. Ashil has been removed. Does anyone have an objection?” He waited, surveying the eyes of the men standing in front of him. He heard nothing.
“Tomorrow we have a critical mission. The weapons are coming into the port of Savannah. Our contact, a Mike Alexandro, says he will deliver them to us the next day somewhere around Jacksonville. That is not how we want it to go down.”
Karim indicated the men were to gather round in a circle and sit down.
“What are we going to do?” asked one man.
“We are going to take the weapons tomorrow at the port. We are no longer going to do business with the Russian gangster. He is ripping us off for more and more money on each shipment and providing less weapons. I made arrangements with our sponsor to get the weapons from another source in the future at a considerable savings. It won’t be from a Russian.”
Karim sat down on the steps. He again examined the face of each man to determine if there lurked any hidden danger from anyone there. Satisfied there wasn’t, he continued, “There are four of us able to go on this mission. We will take control of the truck when the container is loaded on it. We’ll be able to tell the correct one because I’ll see Alexandro either in or at the truck. He’ll want to ensure his goods are there. Tewfik, you can drive an eighteen-wheeler so you get to take out the driver and get control of the vehicle. I will take out anyone in the passenger side.”
“We’ll have to pull to the side somewhere after taking control and before going out the gate to get rid of the bodies,” Tewfik said. “They will want the custom clearance papers from the driver. We can’t go through the gate with the bodies in the cab. The guard might climb up on the running board to collect the papers.”
“Good point. We’ll do that. You two,”—Karim pointed at the two men next to Tewfik—“take the pickup. One drive and the other in the rear with an automatic to cover us on the road. Stick close to us in case we run into any trouble. Any questions?”
“Will you come back with us?” the truck driver asked.
“No, I won’t. We’ll leave tomorrow to go to Savannah and stay in a hotel on I-95 for one night. In the morning, I’ll drive Tewfik to the port and park a mile away. After we drive out of the port and all is going as planned, I’ll get my car and head to Mr. Alexandro’s place. He may still have our money in his possession and I’d like to recover it. Once I search his place, I’ll head back here.”
As he waited, each man nodded his head in agreement.
“Let’s get ready to move out.”
CHAPTER 41
Savannah, Georgia
Gerti walked hand-in-hand with Scott on River Street in the heart of downtown Savannah. From a book in their hotel room, they learned that this old cobblestone street had seen much history since General Oglethorpe landed in 1733 to found the colony of Georgia. Sherman in his march to the sea had spared Savannah from destruction at the end of the American Civil War and the modern-day city maintained much of its historic décor.
“I’m really pissed off at the FBI for cutting us out,” Gerti said. “After all, we did the leg work. Then they move in and threaten us with obstruction if we don’t bugger off.” She recalled the phone conversation with Bridget telling her about the FBI’s decision. She also learned that Bridget and Matt would arrive in Savannah tomorrow.
“I agree.” Scott pulled up her hand and kissed it. “So we can’t follow our man. Let’s do something else.” He winked at her in a conspiratorial manner.
“Like what?” Gerti asked.
“I’ve been thinking. All this talk about an icon and Alexandro seems a little bit premature to me. Sure Bridget says the terrorist link is definitely there, but the icon link is weak. We don’t even know if the icon is in Alexandro’s possession. Right?”
“So, what are you suggesting?” Gerti asked.
They continued to walk on River Street and grazed on the calamari offered as a tasty treat outside the Olympia restaurant. They then went across the street to the river walk area and watched an oceangoing container ship pass through the center of the city on the Savannah River.
“We can assume the FBI will be following him everywhere he goes. We saw him go for coffee this morning. I wonder if he goes every morning. If so, they will be trailing him. So I suggest we go visit his place and see if the icon actually is there and perhaps purloin it.”
“You crafty conniving…” She stopped. “I think you’re starting to think like my father taught me. Maybe that’s what he sees in you. I’m impressed that you beat me to this one.” Gerti squeezed his hand.
“Let’s make a plan,” he said.
The next morning, before Bridget and Matt arrived, Gerti and Scott waited at the corner on Liberty to see if their plan would work. They didn’t want to be in the immediate area of Alexandro’s apartment, as the FBI would pick them out. Their location didn’t permit direct line of sight to the apartment building but would allow them to observe him when and if he headed for the coffee shop.
Shortly after nine, Alexandro turned the corner and headed toward the coffee shop he visited the prior day. Half a minute later, two FBI men followed him.
“Let’s get moving,” Scott said. He grabbed Gerti’s hand and they headed for Alexandro’s dwelling.
At the apartment building, Gerti approached the main door and pretended to examine the list of apartments on the entry keypad. They had discussed this as part of the plan. Since they didn’t know anyone to call for entry, the plan relied on someone exiting while Gerti stood next to the front entry door.
She started to get nervous after four or five minutes st
anding in the entryway. She examined her surroundings, no security camera covered the front lobby. Fortunately, an elderly woman exited with a large shopping bag hung over her shoulder and a walking cane in the right hand. She didn’t appear to even notice Gerti when she moved past. Gerti moved with lightning speed and stuck her foot in the door before it closed completely. That accomplished, she turned and used a hand signal to call Scott forward. Where he patiently sat in the park in front of the building.
Inside, they didn’t say a word. The apartment they sought occupied the top floor, based on its number, and they used the elevator to go up.
“So far, so good,” Scott said.
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” Gerti intoned.
When they exited the elevator, the hallway contained no one. There were only two doors off the hall. It appeared only two penthouse apartments existed on this floor of the building. Gerti had memorized the number for Alexandro’s apartment from the keypad entry.
“Now we need your skills at lock picking,” Gerti addressed Scott.
“What skill? I’ve never picked a lock in my life.”
“Here I thought you were catching on to how to be a crook.” Gerti gave him a big smile. She reached into her purse and pulled out a lock-picking kit.
“Where did you get that?” Scott asked in amazement.
“In my business, the business I will soon take over from my father, this is a skill he taught me from the first days of my apprenticeship into the world of off-the-book acquisitions. I haven’t used the skill in a while, so it might take me a minute to get the door open.”
She went to work on the door locks, one in the handle and the other on the door. She opened the first one in less than a minute, but time went by and she failed to get the other lock.
“We need to hurry up. It’s been twenty minutes. He could return any time.” Scott continuously looked back at the elevator. He went over and sent it down to the ground floor. If it started up, they would have some warning.
“I can’t get it,” Bridget said.
“I didn’t get to the break-and-entry class, but let me try my method,” Scott said. He backed up across the hall and attacked the door with all his might. His shoulder bounced off it, but the door did give some.
“Come on, help me.”
They both attacked the door, both of their shoulders impacting simultaneously, and it gave way.
A piercing siren blasted in their ears.
“Shit,” they said in unison.
They peered inside the room. An icon sat on the mantle above the fireplace in some type of protective case. It looked like the same one in Matt’s picture. Scott rushed forward to grab it. He tried to pick it up but couldn’t.
“It’s bolted to the mantel. I can’t budge the case.”
Gerti screamed, “We gotta go. We can’t get it. We don’t have time.” Gerti pushed Scott toward the door. The siren screeched in their ears. He pulled away from her and used his handkerchief to wipe the doorknob clean as it might be the only thing to hold their fingerprints. Then she remembered that Scott touched the case, so she wiped it. As they passed the elevator, she saw the numbers rising on the display. They ran to the stairway and rapidly descended taking the steps two or three at a time. They went all the way to the basement and then exited out a side door that didn’t abut the square to the front of the building. On exiting, they turned left and headed toward the Desoto Hilton a block away.
Shortly afterwards, they sat drinking a coffee in the hotel snack bar and smiling at their timely escape.
“Not a complete success, but enough to warrant a congratulations to you,” Scott said. “If you hadn’t gotten the lower lock open we would’ve never broken the door open.”
“We both did good. We didn’t break the eleventh commandment,” Gerti said.
“Now we know for sure the icon exists, and it’s in the possession of Mr. Alexandro. That’s a great win as far as I’m concerned. We need to tell Bridget. ” Scott scooted closer to Gerti on the bench seat they occupied and gave her a lingering kiss.
When they looked up, two FBI men, showing their badges, stood watching them.
“You’re under arrest.”
CHAPTER 42
Onboard FBI Gulfstream Aircraft
When they reached cruising altitude, Matt felt comfortable and began to relax for the first time in days. His rear end didn’t hurt much, but more importantly, he and Bridget were now back in the chase to get the arms dealer. He didn’t intend to let him escape again.
At his obvious sigh of relief, Bridget, seated beside him, spoke up. "No more pain in the ass?"
"Yeah. You're still here." Matt grinned.
"Hardy har, har, har."
The flight attendant approached his seat and extended a telephone reaching across her to give it to Matt.
“What, I’m not here?” Bridget said. “I’m capable of answering the phone.”
“You surely are. I’m slowly learning to not be protective of you, but this is an FBI plane and I’m an FBI agent. So please back it off a little.”
“The director wants a word,” the attendant said. She handed the phone to him and withdrew to the rear of the plane. Matt gave a “what the hell is up now” look to Bridget and answered it.
“Matt, glad you’re back on the job,” said the director. “Liz tells me you’re up to date on the events in Savannah. There’s a new twist that just occurred there. Your compatriots, Scott Donavan and Gertrude Schultz, are under arrest. They tried to break into Alexandro’s apartment. The agents watching the place saw them enter and watched them exit after they set off an alarm.”
“Is there any other proof it was them?” Matt asked.
“Not really, so we’ll hold them for a few hours and restate our order to not interfere and then they’ll be released. Ensure that you tell them, the next time it won’t be so easy.”
“Okay, will do. Thank you, sir.”
“Liz is monitoring the phones of Alexandro and Karim. Nothing to report at this time. Just keep those two young people under control. I don’t want this mission blown by amateurs.” The director hung up.
Matt relayed the contents of the call to Bridget.
“We must keep them with us for the duration of this operation,” Bridget said.
“Or in handcuffs if they disobey,” promised Matt.
* * * *
Mike Alexandro returned from his morning coffee to find the police at his apartment. Before he entered, he took a few seconds to look for his icon, and seeing it still on the mantel, he relaxed. There was nothing else of any real value at his place. All monies were instantly deposited into a bank, no cash or securities resided at his apartment. He kept no record of any business dealings on any computer, consequently there was nothing to be learned from any CSI type who could examine his laptop. All records safely resided in his head.
He entered his apartment and listened as the police reported someone must have tried to rob him, but the alarm scared them off. The manager had the door replaced within the hour. The police requested he inform them if he found anything missing. Mike carefully examined his space and told them it appeared to be all there. He just wanted them to leave but knew he had to restrain himself until the police procedures played out.
Looking to the detective in charge he asked, “Do you know who did this?”
“No sir. There’re no security cameras in the building and, so far, no one we’ve interviewed saw anything unusual. It was probably a random act and your security system ran’em off.” The police finished up in a few minutes and departed.
Mike sat in his living room and tried to determine what would be his next move. His instinct for survival screamed at him to run, to get away from Savannah. Something or someone had targeted him. He felt it in his bones.
His private phone rang. He answered it.
“Mr. Alexandro, my name is Karim and I delivered the money to you, if you remember. I have replaced Ashil. I’ll be the one dealing with you in
the future. I’m calling to confirm our shipment will be delivered in two days. Is that still correct?”
In his mind, this call confirmed his earlier instinct that something had gone wrong. He couldn’t put his finger directly on the cause, but he instinctively knew to get out of town, to get away from this group of terrorists.
“That is correct. I’ll contact you tomorrow with the details of where you can pick up the goods. It will be in the Jacksonville area.”
“I’ll wait for your call.” The line went dead.
Running Dmitri’s operation here in the states made him a millionaire a few times over. He now believed it would be a good time to retire for a while. So he called Dmitri.
“No fucking way,” were the first words out of Dmitri’s mouth when Mike told him his plan.
That imperial asshole doesn’t understand my situation.
“Uncle, the law is closing in on me. I can feel it. Let’s get this exchange done and let me get out for a few months and reestablish myself somewhere else. If I stay here, I swear to you, I will be compromised or destroyed. I believe I can do better for us both if I am alive and free. I know how to set up the operation again and then we’ll make even more money with the experience I have.”
The line remained silent for a long time.
“Okay, just get the shipment to the buyers and get the rest of the money. The bodyguard I promised you will be there tomorrow with the shipment. Use him to help you get away and to get set up in a new location. Keep me posted so I can arrange for a different method of delivery in the future. Don’t screw this up.”
“Yes, Uncle.” He hung up. Mike knew the bodyguard wouldn’t work for him even though that’s the way he needed to play it. Dmitri would be the man’s real boss.