by Bobby Akart
“Let’s talk about this Daniel Wagner guy. Check out the résumé. He’s a former KSK commander.”
“Kommando Spezialkraefte,” offered Cam. “Elite special forces in the same mold as Delta.”
“He’s a freakin’ Nazi,” said Bear with a gruff. “He got das boot from the KSK because his people flashed swastikas everywhere.”
“Why would Knight Gruppe have him on the payroll?” asked Cam. “Private security?”
“It’s possible,” replied Gunner. “If Germany doesn’t have a unit like ours to pick up malcontents like Wagner, the private sector is his only option. Based upon his reason for dismissal, I’m surprised they didn’t kick him out of Germany altogether.”
“Okay,” began Cam. “Let’s say it’s private security. He hires a bunch of his buddies who also got das boot, as Bear said, and they walk around with flashlights at Knight’s offices or some other corporation’s headquarters. Any former KSK would be grossly overqualified for that kinda gig.”
“Well, it depends on the secrets they’re trying to hide,” argued Gunner. “It’s been bothering me about how fast they picked up our trip to Northern Germany after we left Berlin. That’s more than what a typical corporate security team could accomplish. Then, think about the guys who stormed von Zwick’s place. They were pros.”
“Big whoop,” said Bear. “We were better pros, right?” He and Cam exchanged high fives.
Gunner threw cold water on his partners. “No offense, guys, but I’m not sure that was their A team. Here’s another thing. Wagner was in Azerbaijan about the time of the embassy attack. I’m gonna have Jackal pull any security footage she can find from the embassy. Even afterwards. They can run a facial-features match with his service records from the KSK.”
Gunner paused the conversation while he sent Jackal a quick message through the jet’s satellite internet connection. It wasn’t fast or capable of large downloads, but it certainly allowed for text message or email communications.
“Okay, let’s assume he’s Odessa, and I’m willing to lean in that direction,” began Cam. “Why would he come to Argentina after the embassy attack?”
“Think about it, Cam. Why do we go back to the Den? Most times, anyway.”
“Regroup,” she said.
“Exactly,” Gunner continued his thought. “If Argentina is the key to this whole Odessa thing, as I think Professor von Zwick believed, then Odessa’s operations may very well be in Buenos Aries or elsewhere in Argentina.”
Bear reached across the table that separated the leather seats in the main cabin of the Gulfstream, and retrieved two photographs. He tapped the images of Derek and Henry Gruber with his index finger.
“These two aren’t KSK. They look like that guy in the Stephen King movie Needful Things. Remember him? The devil guy?”
“Max von Sydow,” replied Cam.
“Yeah, him. That guy was old enough to be a Nazi, too.”
Cam slugged Bear, causing him to flinch. “Hey!”
“Idiot. Just ’cause he was from Germany or Sweden or someplace in Europe doesn’t make him a Nazi. Gunner’s mom was a German, and she wasn’t a Nazi.”
Bear rubbed his arm and then fiddled with the photographs again. “I know, I’m just sayin’ if I were gonna draw a picture of an old Nazi, these two would be perfect models.”
Gunner sent Jackal another text.
Gunner: We need genealogy on Wagner and the two brothers, Derek and Henry.
“Their only remote connection to Knight and therefore Odessa is that they live in a castle that had its taxes paid by one of their multinational corporations for a brief period of time years ago. According to Jackal’s research, the property has been held in multiple trusts all connected to the same law firm in Argentina—Vivanco & Vivanco.”
“Hey, check this out,” said Cam excitedly. “Their mother died recently. She was well known in this small town called Bariloche. This is a write-up about her private funeral.”
Gunner sat back in his seat and stared out the porthole-style window as the jet was on final approach to Buenos Aires. Black smoke could be seen off in the distance as fires burned out of control on Argentina’s delta where the Parana River emptied into the South Atlantic. Severe drought had caused the river to shrivel to its lowest level in half a century, grounding boats and halting navigation. The dry conditions were ripe to help the wildfires spread.
Gunner asked, “Cam, where was the funeral? Was she a Catholic?”
“Bariloche, and yes, she was a Catholic, but that’s not that unusual in South America,” she replied.
“True, but tell me about the church. Just a hunch. When was it built? Any major renovations?”
Cam searched through her copy of the dossier on her laptop. She scowled and shook her head side to side. “I don’t—wait. Here, sorry. Cathedral, not church. It was built in the mid-to-late …” Cam’s eyes grew wide as her voice trailed off. She looked up from her laptop, and her gaze met Gunner’s.
“Late forties?” he finished her sentence inquisitively.
She simply nodded her response.
Chapter Thirty-One
Buenos Aires, Argentina
They were greeted at Campo de Mayo, an Argentine Army installation just northwest of Buenos Aires, by a U.S. Army contingent dispatched by the U.S. Southern Command. In the last decade as relations between Washington and the Argentine government continued to improve, USSOUTHCOM was given authority to build several naval and military installations around the country.
The push came as China had established a military-run space station in Argentina’s Patagonia region with a powerful sixteen-story antenna, ostensibly to study the heavens. Shrouded in secrecy, the high-security facility was supposed to have a museum and visitors’ center open to the public. That never materialized. With no oversight by the Argentine authorities and no access for the public, Washington became increasingly concerned that China was using the space station as cover for a massive spy operation.
To counter China’s continued reach into South America, USSOUTHCOM established a military facility manned in part by the Defense Threat Reduction Agency, or DTRA, in the Argentine province of Neuquén. The base was a five-hour drive from Bariloche.
After a three-hour helicopter ride, the Gray Fox team and their gear were unloaded into a conference room, where they were linked up by video to the Den. The base was full of covert operatives either fighting the war on drugs in the region or monitoring the Chinese presence in the lower end of the South American continent. They were accustomed to nameless personnel coming and going at all times of the day or night. When Gunner and the team unloaded their gear and got established, no one gave them a second thought.
“Let’s get started,” said Ghost as he stood in the center of the operations center at the Den. Each of the analysts stopped their work so they could be called upon during the briefing of the Gray Fox team field operatives. “Let me say this first. We’ve tried to keep our investigation within the confines of the Den and the three of you. That’s becoming exceedingly difficult as we call upon assets of other branches of government, including your hosts in Argentina.”
Ghost paused as he removed his jacket. Gunner nudged Cam and whispered, “I’ve never seen him like this. I doubt he’s slept.”
“I haven’t, Gunner,” Ghost interrupted, whose hearing had not been affected by his fatigue. “There’ll be time for that later. Now, the reason interagency cooperation is the delay factor. Based on the briefings I’ve attended with other intelligence agencies, we have the best leads on who’s behind these attacks. If we shared our information, you’d be pulled out, and the cockroaches you’re pursuing would scatter. Surprise is the key.”
“Do the other intelligence people offer any help to us whatsoever?” asked Gunner.
“They’re focusing on the terrorists’ next move. It’s presumed the largest populated cities like LA, Chicago, Washington, and of course, New York, are the most likely targets. They’ll beef up
security in one locale until new active intelligence leads them to another. There have been minor hacks on small utilities near each of these targets. Each one draws more and more resources toward the large metro areas and the capital, of course.”
“How confident are we that Argentina is the right place to start?” asked Cam.
Ghost stepped out of the camera’s view and allowed Jackal to respond.
“I’m one hundred percent certain this is the proper next step. Gunner certainly asked all the right questions. First, let me address the players involved.”
Jackal paused while she made a couple of keyboard entries. Their screen filled with images of Daniel Wagner. She continued. “Our team has been able to track Wagner’s whereabouts via surveillance footage and airport appearances. I can confirm he was in Azerbaijan when you three were there. Also, shortly thereafter, he was picked up on a facial-recognition camera in Washington State just prior to the attack on Levi’s Stadium. It’s possible he staged his assets somewhere in Eastern Washington, a known stronghold for white supremacists and neo-Nazi groups.”
“Jackal, have you confirmed that Wagner is here?” asked Gunner.
She replied while switching the screen to reveal a somewhat blurred image of Wagner and another man sitting at an open-air café in Bariloche. “We have. Derek Gruber also. We’ve been studying live-cam footage from Bariloche using our own eyes as well as facial-recognition programs. Two cams, one covering downtown and the other known as Centro Civico, which constantly streams the European-style town square surrounded by shops and cafes, provided us hits.
“For the last week, the two men have come into the town at three in the afternoon for drinks and a light meal. They stay until just before dark and then return to the castle.”
“Here we go with the castles again, right?” said Bear with a chuckle.
Ghost ignored his comment and said, “We think this will be an opportunity to get close to these two men while their security is most lax. They are comfortable while dining, and it’s obvious they are very familiar with their surroundings.
“The elder brother, Henry, has not attended these meals with Derek and the former KSK commander, Wagner. I don’t know if there is anything to read into that, so I won’t speculate. It could be a health issue. We don’t know.”
The screen switched back to the Den, where Jackal addressed the team. “Gunner, to answer the questions posed in your text messages. Derek Gruber and his older brother, Henry, are the sons of Brit Jorgensen, a Norwegian woman who moved to Bariloche sometime in the mid-forties. We know nothing about her other than she was active in the Catholic Church. According to our research, she was instrumental in its construction.”
“So Wagner’s not family?” asked Cam.
“Hired gun,” replied Ghost. “Along with most of the personnel in his KSK unit who were expelled by the Merkel government. We’re trying to run down their whereabouts at this time.”
Gunner asked, “Who owns the castle? Do you have any way to see behind the trust?”
“None of the names I’ve mentioned have come up,” replied Jackal. “It was formed by the Vivanco law firm decades ago, and it’s administered by Unibanco Group. They have hundreds of offices spread across Latin America, including Buenos Aires.”
Gunner rubbed his temples. “Jackal, when was Unibanco founded?”
The conversation fell silent for a moment until she responded. She raised her hand as she replied, “1945. The time frame connection is obvious. Say no more, I’m on it.”
Ghost did add to her statement. “I think we’re now in a position to research multinational entities that were created in the mid-to-late forties. If this is the tip of Odessa’s spear, then we can follow the money and the corporate family tree to determine who’s connected. It’s probable, therefore, that Odessa was funded by the Nazis’ ill-gotten gains, and they created multiple layers of legitimate entities that have flourished over the years.”
“Which raises the question,” began Cam, “if they are legitimate, then why would they involve themselves in terrorist activities?”
Gunner sighed and then responded, “To finish what they started.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Neuquén River Valley
Southern Argentina
The team loaded up their gear in the Ford Bronco supplied by the DTRA. Duffel bags were filled with weapons, ammunition, communications gear, climbing equipment to scale cliffs or castles, as well as explosives. The five-hour drive southward through the Neuquén River Valley was uneventful. Bear handled the driving duties while Gunner and Cam talked through all of the scenarios they would likely encounter.
“Ghost wants us to capture and interrogate,” said Cam as she fell back into her seat. “We’re gonna make a mess of this little town, Gunner. I don’t see how we can eliminate their security and get the jump on Wagner, who, like all of us, probably has eyes in the back of his head.”
“And a couple on the sides, too,” quipped Bear.
Gunner agreed. “I don’t think we can take them in town while they’re eating. We need to hit them on the way out. Jackal was unable to tell us how they traveled into Bariloche because the live cams were limited.”
“And the NSA birds would require Ghost to get other agencies involved,” she added. “That’s probably a last resort.”
“We’ll just do it the old-fashioned way. Do our surveillance, follow them out, and take them when we involve the least number of innocents.”
“Shit! Hold on!” shouted Bear. He jerked the Bronco hard to the left. As he did, Gunner came face-to-face with a guanaco, a passive, gray-faced type of camel that inhabits parts of South America, especially at the tip of Argentina. The llama-like pack animals were able to live in the harshest of weather conditions, including the desert.
“Watch out!” shouted Cam from the back seat. Several more of the adorable creatures had wandered into the middle of the road. Bear slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop before he ran into them. He was sure if they’d collided, the large guanacos would’ve torn off the front fenders of the Bronco.
“Sorry, y’all,” said Bear after he caught his breath.
“Sorry? You almost derailed the whole operation. How would we explain all the hardware in the back of the truck to the provincial police?”
Gunner stepped in. “It’s all right, Cam. We missed them. Right, Bear?”
Bear was upset with himself, and he didn’t need Cam to berate him any more than he was internally smacking himself on the side of the head.
Gunner diffused the tension as he jokingly suggested, “They should have those signs up. You know, brake for camels. Or llamas. Or whatever those things are.”
Bear eased his way through the pack, which slowly moved out of the way. Ironically, a mile later, a road sign warned drivers of the guanaco with a yellow-and-black sign.
The team entered the outskirts of Bariloche and immediately noticed how idyllic the small city was. As they approached, the differences in architecture showed the cultural juxtaposition between old-world influence and modernization. Quaint residences and storefronts were dwarfed by several multistory structures. Yet the cobblestone streets gave the edge to the European style.
They secured the Bronco on the edge of the city in a public parking lot within view of the downtown live cam. They confirmed with the Den their vehicle was in plain view and, therefore, could be monitored while they conducted surveillance on Wagner and Derek.
Bear was to be at the ready to extract the team in the event of a hiccup. He played the role of a photographer wandering the streets of Bariloche, photographing the architecture and points of interest. In his flak-style jacket, his pouches were filled with magazines for the team’s sidearms as well as small explosives designed to create distractions.
Gunner and Cam, who were also armed with concealed pistols and knives, played the part of a couple touring the city while on vacation. They couldn’t be certain that Wagner or his security personnel hadn�
��t identified them previously, so they both wore dark sunglasses and hats to obscure their facial features.
They had been wandering the streets for more than hour before they noticed several men arrive in the Centro Civico area of downtown Bariloche. The weather was beautiful, as spring was coming to the region. The sunny skies and warmer temperatures brought out locals and tourists alike. This was a benefit to the surveillance team, as they were able to blend in with others. Fortunately, the men who arrived just before Derek and Wagner made their appearance were obviously private contractors. Their clothing and chiseled-jaw facial features gave them away.
After the Odessa security personnel made a cursory sweep through the open-air square, they took up positions inside the doorways of residential buildings or closed businesses.
Bear was the first to announce his observations into the comms. “I’ve got four, two stationed by the café and two more on the opposite side of the square.”
Gunner looked to Cam, who nodded in agreement. “Confirmed,” said Gunner. He directed a question to the Den. “Do we have a method of transportation?”
“Negative.”
Bear could be seen walking into the center of the square to take pictures of the historic stone town hall and the Alpine-inspired architecture of the museums. He whispered the word bingo into his microphone.
“Confirmed,” said Gunner. “Walking side by side through the arched tunnel. No additional security.”
“I agree,” said Bear.
Derek Gruber and Daniel Wagner strolled casually into the square filled with people. They headed directly for the café promptly at three o’clock, just as the Den’s intelligence had noted.
“They didn’t even check in with the hostess by the door,” observed Gunner. “This table on the edge of the outdoor dining area must be held for them. That tells me they’re recognized as regulars and highly respected.”