Carpathian: An Event Group Thriller (Event Group Thrillers)

by David L. Golemon

  * * *

  Another two workers were unaccounted for at breakfast the next morning. It was assumed that they had quit after their shift and like the others had made their way back down the mountain to save them the embarrassment of admitting that the dark, foreboding countryside frightened them.

  The newly built nightclub that would service the brighter gem of the project below in the valley had claimed a new chapter in the sordid history of the Carpathians.

  As in the time of Prince Vlad Tepes, the new Castle Dracula had been christened by blood.

  * * *

  Janos Vajic stood on the blade of a Japanese-made bulldozer and surveyed the hotel, casino, and hot springs garden dome that covered the nearly forty-square-mile resort and was satisfied that the $2.7 billion project was nearing completion and he would be open on time and under the budget forced upon him by his partners—partners with a history of being unforgiving toward failures where their investments were concerned.

  Vajic watched on satisfyingly as the last bit of Italian marble was placed around the 72,000-square-foot hot springs bath, gardens, and the magnificent tropical Environ Dome that would bring many thousands of visitors to see the most exclusive plant life in the entire world located in one place. The dome was his personal architectural wonder and actually disguised the control housing for the massive cable car system that ran up the mountainside well enough you couldn’t even tell there was a system. Tourists would board the cable car one hundred feet in the air at the top of the magnificent glass dome.

  As he watched the final phase of construction nearing completion he spied the black Mercedes as it approached along the new highway built by the Romanian government so the public could get to the remote location at the southern tip of the Carpathian mountain range. He shook his head as he deftly jumped from the blade of the bulldozer. He was immediately approached by his assistant, Gina Louvinski, a Russian-born, Cambridge-educated general manager who spied the cursed vehicle at the same moment as Vajic.

  “Well, this is it,” Gina said as she approached her boss and friend with her clipboard held firmly, ready for any and all questions as far as budgetary matters were concerned. “Shall we meet inside the hotel? I’m sure we can find a quiet ballroom somewhere where there aren’t a thousand workers still lingering.”

  “No, the reason this magnificent hotel was built here was because of the beauty of the mountains. I will let the Carpathians do the intimidating,” Janos said as he made sure his coat jacket was buttoned. He looked at the clearing sky knowing that he would indeed be open before the fine summer weather started in this, the part of Romania that used to be known as Transylvania.

  The two watched the Mercedes as it approached slowly, obviously so his main investor could see the progress that had been made since his last visit in January. As he watched the progress of the Mercedes, Janos looked over at Gina. She was dressed as a woman, not a woman trying to fight for legitimacy from a male-dominated Eastern society. Her business skirt was just above her knees and her white blouse was no-nonsense. Her gray jacket was devoid of any design save for the small pendant she wore on her lapel. The pendant was designed after the hotel’s main attraction, after the gaming aspect of the property of course: three mountains with the largest in the center lined with small golden flowers—this was the symbol for the multibillion-dollar hotel and casino project known by the name The Edge of the World Hotel and Resort Casino.

  The Mercedes pulled to a stop and two men stepped from the front seat. One, from the passenger side, placed a hand inside his coat pocket and scanned the area around the car. The large man’s eyes settled on Janos and Gina and then moved on. He soon nodded to the second man, who then reached over and opened the rear passenger door of the black luxury car. A medium-sized man with a black-on-gray Armani suit complete with turtleneck stepped from the car and smiled widely as he scanned the area. He placed a large pair of expensive sunglasses on and then looked over at Janos and Gina. He raised a hand in greeting and then slowly approached, followed closely by the big man, whose hand was never far from his inside coat pocket.

  Russian-born Dmitri Zallas was head of the investment group that supplied the funds and the bribes needed to complete the most luxurious hotel and casino this side of Monte Carlo, and one with a much better view. Zallas had come to Romania during the height of the rule of Ceausescu and never left, having stolen his spoils from the enslaved population during the reign of communism.

  “My brother Janos, I see we are well on our way,” he said while ignoring the extended hand of the 35 percent owner of the Carpathian resort. Vajic lowered his hand, embarrassed that Gina had witnessed the disrespect the Russian had toward anyone he considered weak—which was everyone who wasn’t Russian.

  “Yes, we will make the grand opening in three weeks on time and on schedule.”

  “Magnificent,” Zallas said as he removed his sunglasses. He looked over at his limited partner. “By the way, friend Janos, we will be having a special gala affair the weekend prior. For three days we will host the most influential people in all of Europe.”

  “The week prior, we won’t be ready!” Vajic quickly stated, which elicited a withering glare from Zallas.

  “Oh, I think you will be.”

  “Who are these people and how many are we to accommodate?”

  “They are very special guests that look forward to a long weekend without worry or interference from the government.” Zallas cleared his throat. “Any government.”

  “Russian and Romanian gangsters are what you mean,” Gina put in.

  Zallas shot Gina the same look he had with Janos a second earlier, only this time the look remained.

  “Ms. Louvinski, for a Russian-born patriot I am surprised you would think that.” The smile came on but the brightness of that gleaming gesture never reached his dark eyes. His teeth were actually showing underneath the well-trimmed beard. “After all, there is no such thing as a Russian mob, and most assuredly not Romanian.” He chuckled. “I don’t believe they are capable of organizing anything, much less crime. No, Ms. Louvinski, they are just tourists looking for a relaxing stay before the official grand opening.”

  “Dmitri,” Gina objected, “the cell phone towers will not be up that weekend, the German contractors cannot adjust their schedule. There will be no phones with the exception of the landline and you know the phone service inside Romania is spotty at the best of times.”

  “Oh, the guests will be warned to leave their business behind and just enjoy the resort.”

  “But—”

  The look from Zallas stopped the hotel’s general manager cold from persisting with her questions to Zallas and his suspect weekend guests.

  “There will also be several friends of the Edge of the World Reclamation consortium from the Interior Ministry of your country, men that made this land grant possible. Men we have invested inordinate amounts of cash to.”

  “The men who took land protected since the time of the Boyars and Vlad the Impaler and turned it over to a foreign national, men who—”

  “You bore me, madam, to no end, and I don’t like to be bored in the slightest. Leave me and my friend to speak in private, please.” The “please” was purely a habit on the part of the most ruthless drug kingpin and organized crime leader in the history of the Russian people.

  Gina turned on her heels and left the two men, all the while Zallas’s bodyguard kept a close eye on her shapely figure.

  “I want no more distractions. The work is to be completed and the hotel in full operating mode. The casino will remain open and at our guests’ disposal twenty-four hours a day for the entire weekend. Full staff, I don’t care about the budgetary concerns you may have. The hotel will be reimbursed many times over by the favors that will be granted to us in our endeavors here in the Carpathians.” Zallas looked around him and took a deep breath as his eyes took in his pride and joy embedded in the side of the mountain, the reimagined Castle Dracula, the jewel in this Carpathia
n crown. “This is truly a magnificent location and I must say that is a fantastic site, my friend.”

  Janos’s eyes followed Zallas’s as he scanned the rocky mountain range above them and the meadows of flowers leading up.

  “What of the troubles you have been having at the castle?” Zallas asked while replacing his sunglasses.

  “Every time we send men into the mountains to survey the terrain to ensure there will be no rock slides or avalanches during the snow season, they either come back with tales of terror or of being stalked and watched. Just last night we had two night shift electricians who didn’t come back at all and the rest of the crews are starting to make noise about it.”

  “Give the missing men, or surviving families, a complete compensation package, or kill the damn families, I really do not care, Janos.”

  The stunned look on Vajic’s face elicited a much larger smile from the Russian.

  “Surely you’re joking?”

  The smile remained. “Surely.”

  “My point of all of this is that the castle will remain behind schedule if we do not get the main cable cars operating. We need them not only for the last of the kitchen equipment delivery, but also food and beverage. These items cannot be manhandled up the mountain or travel by the small cable car; we need the four resort cars for transport. The men are frightened out of their minds by old wives’ tales and the isolation of working seven days is driving these workers mad. That is the reason they vanish in the middle of the damn night. It has to be the local villagers and those damn Gypsies that roam through this area constantly. And to tell you the truth we don’t need that sort of realism for the castle. I mean Gypsies, real Gypsies. I thought they were extinct in these parts.” He looked self-consciously at a man with little sympathy for frightened workers, or junior partners for that matter. “We need security posted at the castle with my workers for the remaining days we have left to complete the project.”

  “Oh very well, I have a few men that have experience at this sort of activity. I believe all you’re dealing with here are a few peasants and transients, maybe even student protesters mad at us for using once protected lands. Kids, or Gypsies, or mama and papa villagers that are angry their mountain range and precious sheep meadows are no longer a sanctuary for backward people made possible by two thousand years of inept and clueless government.”

  “What of them?” Janos asked as his head dipped toward the mountain.

  “Who?” Zallas asked as if he was annoyed.

  “The Gypsies in the villages up there.”

  “Gypsies? Please, Janos, Gypsies? They dress differently than the other mountain people for sure, but to call them Gypsies? That’s a little much.” He smiled. “I think you’ve been listening to some of those tales these peasants tell around here.” He smiled. “Gypsies—that’s funny, friend Janos, perhaps one too many American and British Dracula motion pictures, you think?”

  At the insult to his intelligence and his country, Janos closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them again Zallas was stepping into his Mercedes.

  “A man will contact you immediately about your mountain peasant problems.” The door was pushed closed without another word.

  Once inside the Mercedes, Zallas stared up the mountain in the direction of the unfinished castle. Then his eyes moved upward from there to the Patinas Pass covered in clouds. As he watched he knew the cursed Gypsy was also up there watching him. He knew what the attacks at the castle were about and he would have to put a stop to it. He removed his satellite phone and made a call. As he looked at the phone in his hands he decided to bring in his own communications equipment for the opening weekend, that would cure the problem with no cell phone towers.

  “Yes, I need you here by tomorrow and bring some men with you. No, not a hunt but you will want to be protected while you’re in the mountains. No, just a payment delivery.” Zallas placed the satellite phone back in its cradle as he watched the mountain above him as the car drove away. “Yes, I received your message loud and clear,” he said as he spied the clouds above the pass where he knew the Gypsy was watching. He looked away from the window. “In a few days you will receive my message, my backward Gypsy inbred.”

  * * *

  One mile up into the low foothills, eyes watched the progress of the hotel and the land surrounding it. Then the bright yellow eyes dimmed as they moved to the castle above. From the shadows of the thin line of trees a low growl was heard. The eyes then settled on a lone figure that was clearly seen in a grayish haze caused by the daylight hours. The object of the growl was looking back at the mountains. This time a much louder growl rumbled and shook the loose earth around the stand of trees—then the tree line became silent once more as shadow melted back into stone.

  For the first time in their long and ancient history, the inhabitants of the region—sheep men, dairymen, and huntsmen of the Carpathian highlands—were afraid, and when they became afraid bad things would start to happen in the world of men.

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX, NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  Alice sat in the office she had spent her entire adult life working in and at the moment felt as uncomfortable as if she were in a hospital waiting room. As Niles went about canceling the morning’s departmental meeting and field assignment assessment teams in lieu of the recent security developments—Alice herself—she looked about the office once occupied by the man she had loved since the end of World War II—Senator Garrison Lee, whose new portrait hung on the wall in a place of honor next to the oil painting of Abraham Lincoln, the creator of Department 5656. The painting of Lee was a portrait she had never seen before and one obviously made without her knowledge. She found she couldn’t look at the man she faced every day of her life for the past sixty-five years until his death in South America the previous summer.

  Known as the strongest personality in government service, Alice Hamilton had intimidated presidents from every decade of her service. Now she was basically under house arrest and was also sitting in her friend’s office like a student caught cutting class—Well, maybe a little more serious than that, she thought to herself. Alice knew this was going to be the end result of her using the asset Jack and Niles had placed so carefully inside the Vatican but she knew she had to take the chance and ask the agent known as Goliath to search for the items she so desperately needed for her Event package.

  Alice looked up as the double doors opened and Niles Compton, Jack Collins, and then finally deputy director of Department 5656 Virginia Pollock all came in and then sat around the smaller of the two conference tables in the large office of Director Niles Compton. The exception was Collins, who knelt beside Alice.

  Alice confidently looked up and into Jack’s blue eyes. He placed a kind hand on her knee and looked into her eyes.

  “Been busy?” the colonel asked.

  “Jack, I’m fine. I know I went against protocol but I have good reasons for doing so.”

  Jack nodded and then straightened. He glanced at Niles, who hit the intercom switch to his outer office.

  “Please tell the security element of Lieutenant Commander Ryan to go ahead and remove the Europa link from Ms. Hamilton’s house and then secure the location for hardware removal. Tell Ryan that Pete Golding will be assisting.” Niles turned the intercom off and then took a deep breath.

  Alice would not blink nor would she shy away from Niles’s saddened features. She knew everyone in the room was thinking the same thing—that she had gone over into Alzheimer’s land never to return.

  “In 1947 you and Director Lee forged the rules of secrecy here at Department 5656. In the ninety-five-year history of the Event Group there has never been a prosecution for treason or dereliction of duty.” Alice hung her head but when she looked back the old fire was back in her eyes. “Usually these things are dealt with in-house and never make it to the courts as you all well know.”

  “This is Alice Hamilton we’re talking about,” Virginia interrupted, “and in case you hadn’t not
iced, Niles, she’s right here in this room.”

  “If I may finish, Virginia?” Niles said as he forced his anger down once again, mad as hell that no one but he and Jack was seeing that an absolute and serious security breach had occurred. He quickly walked over to his desk and replaced his glasses.

  “Apologies,” Virginia said and then looked over at Alice, who was taking this thing far better than herself.

  “Alice, you know as well as anyone in the world what could have happened if the Europa system had been compromised by using her capabilities outside of the complex. I gave permission for your home link to Europa be made available to you in your retirement, but since you are who you are, a legend here at Group, Dr. Pete Golding didn’t place any constraints on your activities at home as far as the use of Europa was concerned. He gave you full access to the Cray system. Dr. Golding and I will discuss this after we are through here. Colonel Collins, your department will prepare an incident report and list Dr. Golding as responsible for the massive security failure. He is hereby suspended from active duty until I figure a way to hang him without actually killing him.”

  Jaws dropped around the table, with again the exception being Jack Collins.

  “Europa, are you online?” Niles asked, looking at the large eighty-five-inch monitor in the center of the conference room.

  “Yes, Dr. Compton.”

  “List the names of departmental personnel who have signed onto the home terminal of Alice Hamilton, please.”

  “Date of user login 12/3/2013 1350 hours—Hamilton, Alice, Jean—Executive Director, Department 5656. User login 12/3/2013 1415 hours—Ellenshaw, Charles, Hindershot III—department head—Cryptozoology. User login 12/3/2013 1510 hours—Golding, Peter, Maxwell—Director, Computer Sciences Division, Department 5656.”

  “Thank you, Europa. Were there any more names listed as active on the home system of Mrs. Hamilton?”

  “No, Dr. Compton, the only other user login was made 6/23/2012, Lee, Garrison, Donner, former director, Department 5656—deceased.”