Laura stopped, tilting her head toward him and batting her eyes. “Aww, you think I’m beautiful.”
He grinned. “Jimmy don’t marry no ugos.”
Laura slapped his ass then guided them to an office at the rear of the lab, half a dozen tables filled with discoveries from the dig site, including a newly arrived body that could be Fatima herself. He resisted the urge to examine her remains, instead forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.
Saving their friend by becoming thieves.
The door to the inner office was unlocked, Karlsson’s name proudly displayed above his title, the nameplates white on black, designed to be easily slid in and out, a subtle reminder every time one walked through the door that one could be replaced with the flick of a finger.
Laura pointed. “There’s the safe.”
He headed for the corner of the room then dropped to his knees. Laura read out the combination and he spun the tumblers, holding his breath when he was finished. “Here goes nothing.” He twisted the handle and the safe clicked open.
Laura exhaled loudly behind him, squeezing his shoulder. “It should be in the back, in a sample bag.”
Acton spotted it and gently retrieved it from the safe. He held it up for Laura to see, then suddenly realized something. “Why are the lights on?”
Laura’s eyes bulged and she spun toward the lab. “Oh my, I didn’t realize.” She lowered her voice. “Somebody must be here.”
Acton gently closed the safe so as not to make a sound, then spun the tumbler as he stuffed the sample bag with the ring in his pocket. He peered through the windows lining Karlsson’s office, but saw no one. He wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t exactly a large area, and he doubted he could have missed someone on the way in. “Maybe they just forgot to turn out the lights.”
There was a click at the main door and it swung open.
Just once I’d like something to go right!
He ducked, gripping Laura by the arm and hauling her down beside him, a half-wall filled with books their only cover. He grabbed Laura’s pin and glared at it. “No one was supposed to be here, you assholes!” he hissed. He slowly rose, catching a glimpse of a young woman, her back to them, leaning over the remains he had noticed earlier.
They must have just arrived.
It made sense. If the remains had just arrived, this would be the first chance they had to properly examine them, and no self-respecting scientist would wait until Monday when something as exciting as this find was sitting on a table, begging to be studied.
Yet his understanding the young woman’s presence didn’t help their situation any. If she spotted them, then all would be lost.
Her phone beeped and she pulled it from her pocket. A finger was eagerly swiped. She read the message then tapped a response before quickly leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Acton looked at Laura’s pin. “If that was you, then good thinking.”
They rushed for the door, but Laura held out an arm before he could open it. “We have to wait for her to get on the elevator.”
Acton cursed. “How many Mississippis is that?”
She shrugged. “Thirty?”
He began counting, but before he could reach Laura’s estimate, there was a click then a beep at the door.
Did she forget something?
Laura dropped to the floor behind a lab table as he ducked behind the door.
And frowned at what came through.
A security guard. They were about to be discovered, and Karlsson was about to die.
Unless he used his training without hesitation.
He stepped forward, grabbing the man around his neck, locking his arm into position over the man’s throat with his other arm. Then squeezed. A struggle immediately ensued, and Acton held on for dear life, the man more powerful than his compact frame had suggested.
But if he lost his grip, he’d probably be bested, the man twenty years Acton’s junior. He could live with that, but there was another, far worse outcome if the man continued to struggle too hard.
His neck might accidentally snap.
Acton was about to err on the side of caution and ease his grip when the struggle finally weakened, then waned to nothing. He gently lowered the guard to the floor then checked for a pulse.
“Okay, he’s out. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“What’s going on here?”
Acton looked up to see the woman from earlier standing in the doorway, her mouth agape, her eyes wide as she stared at him, a man from all outward appearances dead at his feet.
“Professor Acton?”
He cursed, his reputation obviously preceding him.
“Oh my God, is he dead?”
Laura swiftly rounded the table, approaching the woman from behind, then pressed a finger into her back. “Move, and you die.”
She gasped then dropped to the floor, out cold.
Laura stared down at her. “What do we do now?”
Acton checked the guard’s pulse once again, then shrugged. “We get out of here as quickly as we can and hand this damned ring over. Once we have Viggo, we can come back and explain everything, and hope we’re forgiven.”
Laura agreed. “Let’s move then, before they wake up.” She led the way out the door and they ran for the elevator. The doors opened, the car still on their floor from the young woman’s arrival, and they stepped inside.
Acton stared at the floor then to the left, cursing as he realized he had forgotten about the hallway cameras. He hit the button for the bottom parking level. “Why the bottom?” he muttered, watching the floors count down.
“Maybe that’s where he normally parks?”
Acton decided it wasn’t important, instead readying for the doors to open—either at their destination, or on an earlier floor with a dozen guards on the other side.
The quiet weekend was again their friend, and the doors opened in the parking garage. He gently pushed Laura through the doors with a hand on her back, following immediately behind her as he retrieved the fob from his pocket. He pressed the button.
And all hell broke loose.
“Did you do that?” asked Laura as security alarms blared and beacons mounted to the walls flashed. He rushed for the door of their SUV, yanked it open then jumped inside, slamming the door shut, thankful for the reprieve it brought from the cacophony of noise outside the thin glass.
He started the vehicle and put it in gear, hammering on the gas as Laura fastened her seatbelt. “I think we’ve been found out.”
Acton grunted. “No shit.”
A security guard emerged from a stairwell to their left, shouting something at them in Swedish. Acton ignored him, turning up the ramp and beginning the winding route to the surface as more guards appeared at each landing. Thankfully, no shots had yet been fired, and Acton wondered if the guards here even carried guns.
It’s not back home.
He spotted the exit ahead and gunned it, two guards dashing out in front of them, waving their arms. He floored it and laid on the horn. “Get the hell out of the way!” he shouted, the two men compelled to comply at the last second by his approaching bumper and not his own urgings.
“The gate!” cried Laura.
Acton braced himself with the steering wheel and pressed harder on the accelerator. The gate splintered then broke, and moments later they were clear of the parking structure, racing across the visitor’s parking lot then onto the street.
The phone they had been provided rang in his pocket. He eased off the accelerator and fished it out, handing it to Laura. She put it on speaker, holding it up to him. “Hello?”
“You have the ring?”
His eyes narrowed.
How couldn’t they know?
“Yes.”
“Go to the airport, Terminal Five. You will be met.”
Acton tensed. This wasn’t part of the plan. At least, not as he had understood it. They were supposed to exchange the ring for Karlsson, and he ha
d assumed that would be happening in Stockholm in a very public place.
An airport meant travel.
And he feared where.
“What are you talking about? We had a deal. We give you the ring, you give us Viggo.”
“You were discovered. The deal has changed.”
The call ended before Acton could protest, and he cursed, slamming his fist against the steering wheel. “This is getting too serious. We should just go to the police and turn ourselves in.”
Laura nodded. “I think you’re right.”
The phone rang again, startling them both. Laura answered, again putting it on speaker.
“Talk like that, Professors, will ensure your friend dies a most horrible, painful, and prolonged death.”
A bloodcurdling scream erupted from the speaker before the call was cut off, leaving a chill to rush down Acton’s sweat-drenched back.
“We don’t have a choice,” gasped Laura, her voice filled with anguish at the sound of agony they had just heard. Acton looked at his wife and reached out for her, squeezing her hand.
“We’ll get through this.”
He was about to mention that Reading would have received their message by now, and that plans to help them might already be in motion, but he stopped himself in time. He hated the fact they were being listened to, though he still had his doubts as to whether they were being watched. He stared at the road ahead, unsure of what to do beyond follow the plan forced upon them.
And making sure he got his face on every damned camera he could before boarding.
33 |
Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia
“Sir, I’ve been monitoring Stockholm police reports, and it looks like there was just an incident at the university where Professor Karlsson works.”
Leroux rose from his station, having arrived only minutes ago from Las Vegas, Sherrie already en route to Shitbuktu as she had called it, having taken a separate flight. He was thankful to have something to jump into straight away, rather than spend the evening worrying about her.
He stepped over to Sonya Tong’s station. “Details?”
She shook her head. “Not much, except that there were two perps, a man and a woman—”
Randy Child spun in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Fifty bucks says the professors.”
“—and they were armed. They tried to kill one of the guards—”
Leroux interrupted. “That doesn’t sound like them.”
Child dropped his foot, stopping his spin. “You’re right. If those two tried, they would have succeeded.”
Tong continued. “And another woman was assaulted before they made their escape.”
Leroux shook his head, this escalation unexpected. “What was taken?”
“Nothing on that yet.”
Leroux turned to Child. “Where are they now?”
“Their phones are still at their hotel.”
Leroux didn’t buy it. “See if we can pull some traffic camera footage of the area, see if we have them on video near the university.”
Child went to work as Director Leif Morrison entered, National Clandestine Service Chief for the CIA. “What’s the status?”
Leroux stood a little straighter. “It looks like our two professors are about to be wanted for armed robbery and attempted murder.”
Morrison’s eyebrows shot up. “Holy shit!” He glanced about the room. “Pardon my French, people.”
Leroux shrugged. “We’ve all said far worse.”
Morrison chuckled. “I have no doubt.” He motioned at the large set of displays that curved across the entire front of the operations center. “What am I looking at?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“What does that famous gut of yours tell us?”
Leroux frowned. “That they’ve just completed the first step of someone else’s plan.”
34 |
Stockholm Arlanda Airport Stockholm, Sweden
Acton took a seat in the main terminal, Laura beside him, a cart full of their luggage from the hotel in front of them. A handoff had been made within moments of arriving, their passports and tickets delivered to them by a Middle Eastern-looking man, along with their luggage. Everything had been thought of, as if the Saudis were too experienced at this.
It was disconcerting, to say the least.
He checked the ticket, the destination providing mixed feelings. “Dubai.” He held it up for Laura to see.
“Really? I wasn’t expecting that.”
He nodded. “Neither was I. I would have thought Riyadh, but maybe they’re trying to make it look like they’re not involved.”
Laura frowned. “It’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to Saudi Arabia from Dubai. When we land, they could just load us in a car and we’re heading down the highway to the Kingdom.”
Acton sighed. She was right. This wasn’t exactly good news, though it did buy them time. He had to assume Reading was on the case, and if he was, then Kane was as well. If the CIA were involved, and they could very well be because he was an American being manipulated by a foreign power, then they could be watching them right now.
And they’d absolutely notice them catching a flight to Dubai using their own passports.
He frowned.
And so might the Swedes.
“We better get a move on. That girl at the university recognized me. It’s only a matter of time before we’re flagged.” He looked up at the ceiling, spotting one of the security domes hiding the cameras. And made a point of staring at it for several moments as they headed to the check-in counter.
“How long do you think we have?”
“Before our names are on every cop’s lips? Not long.”
“Then we better hurry.”
They checked their luggage without incident, though they were admonished for showing up so late for their flight, Acton giving the excuse of a lemon rental, all forgiven when he mentioned the sportscar’s notorious British brand.
As they headed for security, Acton cursed, fishing the ring out of his pocket and removing it from the plastic sample bag as surreptitiously as possible. He slipped it on his pinky finger, disposing of the bag in a nearby trash can.
Laura winked at him. “You look like a mobster.”
“I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
Laura snickered at his horrendous Don Corleone impression. “Don’t make me laugh, it’ll just draw attention to us.”
Acton spun the ring on his finger, his mind racing. If they were arrested here, then the ring would be confiscated, and his friend could die. Though if they made it on the flight, and out of Sweden, there was no way they wouldn’t be arrested upon arrival with the same result.
“We’re not going to make it.”
Laura looked at him. “What do you mean? Onto the flight?”
“We might make it out of Sweden, but there’s no way we’re not getting arrested at the other end.”
Laura squeezed his hand. “Let’s just hope they’ve thought of that.”
“Let’s hope.” His eyes roamed the terminal as they headed for security, then settled on one of the myriad of retail offerings. “I’ve got an idea.”
35 |
Stockholm University Stockholm, Sweden
Elsa Andersson sat on a stool in the lab that had always been a safe place for her, still trembling at what had happened earlier. When she had come to, it was to wailing alarms and flashing lights, then guards at the door. Police had been called, along with paramedics, and all were here now, swarming the crime scene.
A crime scene that made no sense to her.
Why would Professor James Acton be here without Karlsson, why would he have assaulted the thankfully alive guard, and why would his wife threaten to kill her? None of it made any sense. And apparently, it didn’t make any sense to the detective now interviewing her, repeatedly asking her if she was certain, absolutely certain, who the suspects were.
“You’ve never met
the man.”
“No.”
“Yet you can be absolutely certain it was him.”
“Yes. Like I said before, I looked him up on the Internet yesterday.”
“Why?”
She growled. “Like I said before, because Professor Karlsson said to.”
“And why was that again?”
She snapped. “Listen, they’re getting away! Why are you wasting time? They tried to kill that guard over there, and she threatened me with a gun!”
“It looks like a sleeper hold was used on the guard.”
“That’s only because I walked in on them before he could finish the job.”
“You said the other one, Professor Laura Palmer, held a gun on you?”
She nodded. “She pressed it against my back.”
“Did you see the weapon?”
Elsa paused. “Well, no. But I felt it.”
“So maybe it wasn’t a gun?”
“Of course it was a gun. They’re American! They all carry guns!”
The detective frowned. “We don’t exactly let them in the country with weapons.”
Elsa grunted. “Well, I don’t know about that, but she had a gun.”
“Or something pressed against your back.”
Elsa glared at her.
“Now, back to this text message you received from Professor Karlsson. You said he asked you to meet him in the lobby, but he wasn’t there. Then when you returned, you found Acton and Palmer in here, and the guard unconscious on the floor.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit of a coincidence?”
Elsa’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you receive a message from your professor, then these two show up using his pass.”
Elsa’s jaw dropped. “You think he’s involved?”
The detective smiled slightly. “More likely they have his phone, and used it to send a message to draw you away while they did whatever they did.”
Elsa paused, her mouth still agape. “I guess that makes more sense. But why? Acton and Karlsson are supposed to be friends. Why would he take his pass and phone, then break in here?”
The Viking Deception Page 11