Assassins of Athens ak-2

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Assassins of Athens ak-2 Page 25

by Jeffrey Siger


  'I'm sorry, sir, but the rules do not allow us to do that.'

  'Do what?'

  'Disturb a member when someone appears unannounced claiming to be invited.'

  Demon wanted to kill the pretentious bastard. Didn't he realize he was from the servant class? But Demon needed the idiot. 'I understand. Is there a phone I may use?'

  'Certainly.' He pointed to the one on his desk. 'Dial nine first.'

  Demon dialed without saying thank you.

  An operator answered. 'Kolonaki Club, how may I help you?'

  Demon asked for the Old Man and waited.

  'Yes.'

  'It's me, I'm downstairs. Your doorman won't let me in. Speak to him, please.' Demon handed him the phone without waiting to hear the Old Man's reply.

  'Yes, sir. Right away, sir.' The man didn't look happy at Demon making him look stupid. Sorts like him believed people who looked like Demon should know their place — somewhere far beneath his. 'Third floor, second door to the right off the elevator.'

  Demon nodded and walked to the elevator. He would take great pleasure in watching that guy kiss his ass someday.

  'By the way, I'm not a doorman. I'm the club's concierge.'

  Demon didn't bother looking back. 'Don't worry. Soon you will be.'

  In the elevator Demon closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. This was the most important performance of his life. He must remain calm. He must stay focused. The doors opened, he walked to the second door to the right and knocked.

  'Come in.'

  Another quick breath and Demon pushed open the door.

  'Welcome, Demosthenes.'

  Demon gave a quick look around. He couldn't care less about how the room looked; they all looked the same to him here, anyway. He wanted to make sure they were alone.

  'I assumed you wanted privacy. We have it.' The Old Man pointed to the chair beside his. 'So, what has you so bothered, my boy?'

  Don't let his patronizing get to you. Stay focused. 'We have a very serious problem.'

  'Every day brings serious problems.' The Old Man smiled. 'They are what make life interesting.'

  Demon nodded. 'Well put. That's why I came to you for advice.'

  He patted Demon's knee. 'So, what's bothering you?'

  'The operation in Sardinia did not go as planned. The family got away and all of the kidnappers were killed or caught.'

  The Old Man just stared.

  'Kostopoulos knows we were behind it. The Albanians and their new Greek mob buddies know we tried to go around them. I just received a very unpleasant personal message giving us forty-eight hours to straighten things out with Kostopoulos or we're all dead.'

  The Old Man shook his head. 'Terrible predicament. I wish this had been handled better. I had such high hopes for you.'

  Keep your cool. 'I know, and I wish I hadn't dragged you into this. I'll never be able to forgive myself for having brought all this misery into your home.'

  The Old Man pointed to his chest. 'My home? What does this have to do with me? You certainly don't think any of them would dare come after me, or my family?' He leaned forward and showed his teeth. 'And if you think you can scare me by saying you'll talk, forget it. No one will believe you.' He leaned back.

  'I know, you're absolutely right. Who in Greece would take my word against yours? But then again, I'm not trying to convince Greeks. Well, at least not Greeks according to your definition. I just have to convince some mobsters that you cost them hundreds of millions of euros and one very hard-assed Greek you don't think belongs here.'

  The Old Man shrugged. 'I'll take my chances. As far as Kostopoulos knows, this is something between you and hired killers in it for the money. The others, well,' he waved his hands, 'they wouldn't dare come after me on your word.'

  Demon leaned back and stretched. 'You are so right.' Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a metal object, pointed it at the Old Man, and pressed.

  The Old Man sat straight up in his chair. 'What are you do-'

  'Hello, Demosthenes, do you know my old friend Sarantis Linardos?' It was a tape recorder, and those were the Old Man's words. The tape continued. 'Sarantis, Demosthenes says he is in need of a considerable sum of money in order to resolve a rather messy and unexpected situation involving a family I know you're familiar with.'

  The Old Man put up his hand to Demon. 'Stop.'

  Demon didn't, and the Old Man's voice continued on the tape. 'Kostopoulos doesn't know about us.'

  Demon pressed stop. 'But he will, and this is what he'll hear.'

  'We need order and must do whatever is required to achieve it. The Kostopoulos boy's death was necessary. You know that.'

  Demon smiled. 'But not just him. Copies of the tape of our entire meeting are in envelopes addressed to every political party, newspaper and television station in Greece, plus of course, CNN, BBC, and whatever international antit errorist organizations I could think of. And, if anything happens to me… yes… you guessed it, voila, they get them. Frankly, once this comes out, I don't think Kostopoulos will want to kill you. He'll be getting too much pleasure watching you and your family being destroyed.'

  Demon leaned over and patted the Old Man's knee. 'If I were you, I'd start considering suicide. If you have the balls.'

  The Old Man was shaking. 'You miserable piece of shit.'

  Demon smiled. 'Now that we understand each other, would you like Kostopoulos' phone number?' Demon held out a piece of paper. 'Make nice and do whatever it takes to get an appointment to see him by tomorrow. Just remember-' He pressed the button again. It was Demon's voice this time. 'I'd prefer not to die, and bringing you down takes me with you. I need you too much. Almost as much as you need me.' He clicked it off.

  The Old Man's face was so red and his breathing so rapid, that for a moment Demon feared he might have pushed him into a heart attack. The Old Man glared at Demon, then reached out and snatched the paper from his hand. 'Are you recording this too, or was the other day here a special occasion?'

  Demon shrugged and smiled. 'You can't be that surprised, considering how many of your distinguished colleagues in government find their recorded indiscretions making it into the press these days. My personal favorite is that DVD secretly shot by the lover of our prime minister's married fat friend from the culture ministry. Poor guy didn't know what to do, so he jumped out a window. Too bad he picked a low floor. He's lived to see his DVD a big hit on the Internet. But you're smarter; you'll pick a higher floor. As you say, one can't be too careful.'

  The Old Man sat quietly for a few moments, then picked up the phone on the table next to him and dialed the number on the paper. He identified himself to the man who answered and asked to speak to 'Mr Kostopoulos.'

  'I'm sorry, Mr Kostopoulos is not in at the moment. May I have him call you back when he returns? It should be within the hour.'

  The Old Man hesitated. Demon looked at him and mouthed, 'Yes.'

  'Yes, that will be fine.' He gave him the number for the Kolonaki Club and hung up.

  Demon smiled. 'Good. Now, we just wait.' He looked around the room. 'You know, I'm really starting to like this place. Why don't you propose me for membership?'

  The Old Man showed no expression, just stared at the floor.

  'After all, don't you think I fit in?' Probably more than either of them imagined. Tassos used the hour going over everything again with Kostopoulos. If Zanni lost his notorious temper… Tassos didn't want to think about it. He placed the call, and when the Old Man answered said, 'I am putting Mr Kostopoulos through now, sir.' He pointed to Zanni to pick up the extension.

  'Hello, Zanni Kostopoulos.'

  'Oh, yes, Zanni, how are you?'

  'Busy.'

  'I'm sure.'

  Kostopoulos didn't say a word.

  'I understand there have been several tragic events involving your family, and I thought perhaps we should meet to see if there is anything I can do to assist in bringing all of this unpleasantness to an end.'

/>   Tassos cringed. If Kostopoulos didn't lose it here…

  'And how do you think you can help?' Zanni was as calm as a falling snowflake — headed toward hell. He seemed in a trance to Tassos.

  'Oh, I think I can be very helpful. People trust me. They know that I get things done. Resolve misunderstandings.'

  'Let's put it this way. I don't have any idea what you're talking about. Except that you want to talk. If you want to meet, fine. But I'm only going to do it where I feel safe. Understand?'

  The Old Man paused. 'Understood.'

  'Then we meet here. On Mykonos.'

  Again a pause. 'As long as I pick the place. I have similar concerns.'

  Kostopoulos looked at Tassos. 'Let's agree on a place now. Otherwise we're wasting each other's time.'

  'Okay. How about the new Cultural Center, past the hospital coming out of town on the way to Ano Mera?'

  'The Gripario?' Kostopoulos looked at Tassos, who nodded yes. 'That works. I'll speak to the mayor and make sure we have the place to ourselves. When do you want to do it?'

  Another pause. 'Tomorrow night, around eight?'

  Again, Tassos nodded yes.

  'Okay,' said Kostopoulos.

  'See you then. Goodbye.'

  Tassos let out a breath. 'Good job.'

  Kostopoulos' expression hadn't changed. 'Unpleasantness. This is "unpleasantness" to him.' Kostopoulos kept repeating the word as he walked out of the room.

  A minute later, Tassos called Andreas and told him it was a 'go' for tomorrow. They had a lot to do in less than twenty-four hours.

  Everyone did.

  26

  Tassos promised Andreas to have the Cultural Center wired for sound and video by noon. He was doing it through the place's existing audio and video system. Nothing would seem out of the ordinary; no one would even know it was running. It was the perfect setup.

  The first thing Andreas did after hanging up with Tassos was arrange for the immediate transport to Mykonos of his two best surveillance teams — vans, equipment and all. He was taking no chances. If something went wrong inside, they'd be there to pick it up. No way he would let some screw-up allow those bastards to get away. The Old Man told Demon to go home and get some sleep; that they'd speak in the morning. Demon told him not to even think about meeting with Kostopoulos alone. No telling what the Old Man might try to pull on him if he wasn't there to protect himself. They agreed to meet at the Kolonaki Club at three the next day and leave for Mykonos from there.

  Demon decided to see Anna. He had nothing else to do.

  He knocked on her door. No answer. He took out the key she didn't know he had and opened the door. He called out her name but there was no answer. He walked around. The place was empty. Then he noticed the drawers were open. Everything was gone. The bitch had run out on him. Andreas woke up when the sunlight hit his eyes. He still was holding Lila's hand. He looked at his phone. No messages. Angelo and Christina should be in Mykonos by now. He figured the Old Man would be taking a flight leaving Athens around seven at night. But he might take his own plane, or a helicopter. No matter, they'd be ready for him at the Cultural Center.

  He called Kouros. 'Hi, how's Demosthenes doing?'

  'I'm hoping miserable and horny. He made a late-night visit to Anna's place, but she and the kid were gone, packed up and left. He was pissed. Started throwing furniture around from the sound of things.'

  'Where is she?'

  'Caught a train at Larisis station, headed north to Thesaloniki.'

  'A new start in another city?'

  'Hope so, for her sake. We have someone on the train. Just in case.'

  'And Demosthenes?'

  'Back in his apartment. I'm staying on him.'

  'I've got two watching the Old Man. He's still home.'

  'Guess things won't get moving until this afternoon.'

  'But when they do-'

  'I know. We'll be ready, don't worry.'

  Andreas did worry. He wanted to be on Mykonos, but couldn't risk it. His presence would be noticed, and if it got back to the Old Man that the cop in charge of the Kostopoulos murder investigation was on Mykonos on the day of their meeting, it was certain to spook him away. At least Tassos was there. Andreas hoped that was a good thing. At three sharp, Demon was at the Kolonaki Club. Five minutes later, the Old Man and he were in the back of a Mercedes 600 limousine heading toward the airport. The Old Man seemed remarkably calm. Neither spoke.

  'He missed the turn.'

  The Old Man gestured no. 'He didn't.'

  'Sure, he did, the airport is to the right.'

  'We're not going to the airport. We're catching the Hi Speed at Rafina.'

  'The ferry? Why are we taking a boat?'

  The Old Man smiled. 'You'll see.'

  Twenty-five minutes later they pulled onto the pier. A man dressed in black fatigues gestured them toward a line of four black Porsche Cayennes. Two pulled onto the boat ahead of the limousine, two behind.

  'I thought some prudence was in order. Considering what happened in Sardinia, I wasn't about to go anywhere without equivalent assistance. Oh, yes, I spoke to Linardos about our little chat yesterday, and he checked with his newspaper sources in Italy. It wasn't police. It was mercenaries. You were right about one thing, though: Mr Kostopoulos is a very dangerous man indeed.' The Old Man picked up a newspaper and started reading as if he didn't have a care in the world.

  Demon made a mental note to get copies of those tapes and envelopes into the hands of more than one friend. Of all the nuts running around threatening to kill him, this was the one most likely to do it.

  It was a slightly less than three-hour trip, and passengers weren't allowed to stay with their vehicles. They had to go above unless, of course, you were part of the Old Man's party. There always were exceptions for him. Demon watched one of the dozen men in fatigues tinker with a pair of headphones. 'What's he doing?'

  The Old Man looked up from his newspaper. 'Practicing.'

  Demon sounded impatient. 'Practicing what?'

  'He's trying to catch signals. He's a counter-surveillance specialist. That's some of his equipment. He can pick up a gnat recording a hum a mile away.' He smiled. 'After your little recording session at the club, you didn't think I was going to make that mistake again, did you? If this turns out to be a setup, I think the operative word is "duck."' 'The Old Man and Demosthenes are on their way to Mykonos, but they're in a black Mercedes limo taking the fast boat from Rafina and traveling with a dozen military types in black fatigues. The limo's surrounded by four black Cayennes. Looks like a goddamned military convoy.'

  Andreas hadn't left the hospital. Kouros updated him every half hour. 'I was afraid of something like that. But it's not unexpected. I'll let Tassos know. Anything else?'

  'I'm on the boat with them. I tried walking by the limo on the way to the upper deck, but the Cayenne-guys started checking me out, so I didn't push it. I'll try again later. But it won't be easy. I've no excuse for being down there. The boat was full, and they wouldn't take my car. I had to flash my badge to get on as a passenger.'

  'Don't worry, I'll have someone meet you when you get in.'

  'It's due in at six forty-five p.m., at the new harbor in Tourlos.'

  'Okay. Let me know if anything changes.'

  Andreas hung up. He hadn't bothered to leave Lila's room. It didn't seem to matter how loud he talked or what he said. He wondered if she'd ever hear him again.

  He called Tassos. 'The Old Man is on his way by boat from Rafina.'

  'Boat?'

  'Yes, the Hi Speed. It gets into Tourlos at six forty-five p.m. Looks like he's trying to surprise you by showing up early.'

  'Don't worry. We'll be ready for him.'

  'It's ready for them. He's traveling with Demosthenes and a dozen guys like Kostopoulos' major. Two Cayennes in front and two in back of the Old Man's limo.'

  'What kind of limo?'

  'Is that important?'

  'Could be.' 'It's a Mercede
s 600.'

  'Thanks.'

  Andreas paused. 'You know, if he's hiring first-rate professional talent, my guess is they'll sweep the place for bugs.'

  Tassos didn't sound concerned. 'We're ready for that.'

  'How?'

  'We just are. Like I said, it's set up to run through the Center's system. It's undetectable. Gotta run — have to get ready for our guests. Bye.'

  Andreas hoped Tassos knew what he was doing. But if anything went wrong, it was Tassos' people who would take the heat. That reminded him: he'd better have someone pick up Kouros at the harbor, and tell his own surveillance guys to be careful. This was no time to take unnecessary chances. He didn't want anyone else getting hurt. At least not any of the good guys. Mykonos' new harbor lay like a chubby-bottom north-to-south 'H' about one mile north of the island's historic old harbor. The western leg of the 'H' sat out to sea, connected to the onshore leg by a hardly noticeable bridge. The distance between the two legs was well less than one hundred yards at the south and no more than forty yards at the north. Cruise ships docked at the seaward northern end of the western leg. The Hi Speed and other large ferries docked and unloaded from the stern at its southern seaward end. The areas between the legs were for smaller craft.

  A part of the onshore leg ran alongside and from three to nine feet below the main road into town. It was approximately a quarter-mile long and seemed forever under construction. People were used to it. A giant's sandbox, complete with all the old-time trucks, cranes, bulldozers, and other sorts of tank-tread earthmoving equipment every giant's little boy would love to play with. It even had a set of blocks: car-size concrete ones, lined up along the seaside and used to keep pressure on footings that some day would support the 'soon to be completed' marina.

  The loudspeaker blared, 'We are arriving at Mykonos. Drivers please return to your vehicles.'

  Demon was sleeping, the Old Man dozing. The Old Man leaned over from the passenger's side of the back seat and said to the driver, 'Did you tell them where we're going?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'And how to get there?'

  'Yes, sir. I told them to take the back way, up that steep hill next to the taverna across from the stop sign where we come out of the port.'

 

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