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The Romanov Ransom

Page 18

by Clive Cussler


  “I think I’d like a little more proof. If I’m not mistaken, Sergei mentioned that he’d heard of this Petrov crime family. Why is that?”

  “Good question,” Sam said. “Come to think of it, Selma told us about your crime boss father being murdered by a rival gang. Can you explain that?”

  “Very simple,” Viktor replied. “We created that crime family as part of Tatiana’s cover story. We knew Rolfe Wernher wouldn’t trust her unless she had a pedigree that matched his own. We ran a few well-placed articles in the newspapers and on the internet.” He pointed to Remi’s tablet on the table. “If you look it up, you’ll see that Tatiana Petrov recently stepped into the role of her notorious crime boss father, Boris Petrov, known for his drug running and arms dealing.”

  Remi reached for the tablet and started searching. “Here it is,” she said, showing Sam. He scanned the search results and saw a number of headlines detailing the crime family.

  “My so-called father’s name,” Tatiana said, “was used in a previous operation several years earlier, and, as you can see, older articles already existed. Search further and you’ll find arrest records, property records, and a few blurry photos. Rather than come up with a new legend, we piggybacked off the old one.”

  The story was entirely plausible. What they didn’t have was a way to verify it. And yet, Sam’s instinct was that they were telling the truth. “Isn’t Rolfe Wernher a German national? Why the complicated game to get him?”

  “To start,” she replied, “he’s trying to expand his operation of drugs and firearms into Russia. We have enough of that going on as it is. The last thing we need is more of the same.”

  “His gang,” Viktor said, “killed two Russian citizens during a robbery of a jewelry store in Germany.”

  “We cultivated our first informant from that case,” Tatiana added. “Durin Kahrs.”

  Sam glanced at Remi, saying, “He tried to kill our friends. He’s—”

  “Dead,” Tatiana said. “We know. But before his unfortunate run-in with the other end of your weapon, he was . . . How do you say it?” She looked at Viktor.

  “Double-crossing?” he said.

  “That’s it. Double-crossing Rolfe for money.”

  “The courier bag?” Sam said.

  “Exactly. When we learned that he’d possibly found it, we approached him and offered double what Rolfe was paying for it. Unfortunately, your friend Zakaria was kidnapped, and we lost the bag.” She turned, nodding toward her partner. “That’s where Viktor’s expertise comes in. He’s worked extensively with Interpol in recovering stolen art. When my agency found out that there was a possibility of the Romanov Ransom actually being found, we brought Viktor on board to pose as my personal bodyguard.”

  Sam eyed the man. “Interpol?”

  He nodded.

  “His connections,” Tatiana said, “allow us access to some less-than-orthodox methods, such as the one we used this afternoon, turning my rank into a commander who has need of a private hangar.”

  “Interesting,” Sam said. “I have a friend who did a lot of work with Interpol back when he was in the FBI. Runs a security firm these days.”

  “Donovan Archer?” Viktor said.

  “You know him?”

  “Very well.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I verify your story with him?”

  44

  Viktor didn’t answer Sam right away. He seemed to think about it, then said, “You want to contact Donovan? I don’t mind, but it’s up to Tatiana.”

  She made a dismissive gesture. “As long as he doesn’t make any law enforcement inquiries, I have no objections.”

  Sam slid his phone across the table to Remi. “See if you can get Donny on a video call.”

  Remi found his number in the contacts and called. “Donovan, sorry to wake you.”

  “Remi? Is everything okay?”

  “Fine,” she said, handing the phone to Sam.

  Donovan, his blond hair sticking up on one side, stared back at Sam on the screen. “Fargo. Some reason I have to look at your ugly mug at this hour?”

  “Quick question,” Sam said. “Someone here says he knows you. I need to know if I can trust him.”

  “Who is it?”

  “One second.” Sam turned the camera toward Viktor.

  “Donovan,” Viktor said. “Good to see you.”

  “Whoa. And here I thought Fargo’s mug was bad to wake up to.”

  “You’re looking . . . somewhat awake.”

  “You realize what time it is here? Put Fargo on again.”

  “Well?” Sam asked.

  “Viktor Surkov,” Donovan said, stifling a yawn. “Worked a few art theft cases with me at the Bureau in conjunction with Interpol. Good investigator, terrible poker player. You can trust him.”

  “Thanks. Get some sleep. You look terrible.”

  Sam ended the call, then looked at Tatiana and Viktor. “I trust Donovan. Therefore, you have our cooperation. What do you want from us?”

  Tatiana’s glance strayed to his pack. “Preferably, what you found in the tunnels.”

  “We’d like to get a few photos first, but they’re yours.” Sam unzipped his pack, removing the key and tin from it. “Any idea what they’re used for?”

  She picked up the tin, turning it over in her hands. “According to Rolfe, the tins have something to do with finding the location of the Romanov Ransom. But he needs all three of them.”

  “This one makes number two,” Sam said. “We were on our way to Münster, following up a lead—we hoped—on the third. You’re welcome to what we have.”

  “Perfect. But I’ll need to come back for them. Preferably, tonight.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “What I need to do is steal them from you.”

  Definitely not what he was expecting to hear. “How will that help?”

  “Buy Rolfe’s trust. He’d be suspicious if I suddenly showed up with whatever this is.” She returned the tin to the table, her smile apologetic. “In order to make this real, I’ll have to bring along Rolfe, or someone in his entourage, and I’d rather not have either of you present. Is there any chance you can leave this in your hotel room and go out for a while? A late dinner?”

  Sam thought about it for a moment, weighing the risks. “What sort of security can you guarantee? We’ve already had one midnight visit from this group.”

  “So I heard. I didn’t find out until afterward. There’ll be four of us. Viktor, the two agents you met in Kaliningrad, and I.”

  Sam and Remi glanced out the jet’s window at the pair standing near their flight crew.

  “Those two?” Remi said, the tone of her voice echoing how he felt. “You’re kidding.”

  “Believe it or not,” Viktor said, “Nika Karaulina and Felix Moryakov are actually very capable. The problem was, they were under the mistaken assumption that the two of you were not.”

  Sam watched the agents a moment longer. “We’ll give them the benefit of the doubt,” he said. “So where do you want to do this? We’ve already checked out of our hotel room in Wałbrzych. A good thing, since the security there was lacking.”

  Tatiana nodded at Viktor, who pulled a card from his pocket. “I’d recommend this place,” he said. “It’s high-end enough to not raise suspicion, but more secure than the last place you stayed. More important, you can disappear into any number of restaurants literally right outside the door. We’ll make sure that Felix and Nika are shadowing you the entire time.”

  Sam took the card, showing it to Remi. “Feel like going out tonight?”

  “Date night in Wrocław?” She smiled. “I always have my Jimmy Choos on standby.”

  45

  Rolfe stared at the text from Tatiana a moment longer. “Why,” he asked Leopold, “am I paying you when that Russi
an is doing your work?”

  Leopold, who’d just finished disassembling and cleaning his Glock and was now using a cloth to wipe the oil from each piece, barely spared him a glance. “What is it she’s saying?”

  “She tells me that she has a location on the Fargos.”

  This caught his attention, and he looked up. “I’m curious as to how she managed that. We had every road leading out of that forest blockaded.”

  “And yet still they somehow slipped past you. At least she has a solid lead.”

  Leopold’s jaw clenched. The man hadn’t liked Tatiana to begin with, and Rolfe suspected he was liking her less and less. He tossed the oilcloth onto the table, then began to reassemble his weapon. “Where are they, then?”

  “That’s what I’m asking now.” Rolfe sent the text, then waited for a response. It took a long time coming, but when it did, he smiled. “She saw them walking into a hotel in Wrocław.”

  “Ask how she found them.”

  “You don’t trust her?”

  “Why should I?”

  Rolfe texted her. A moment later, he received the response. “Apparently, the Fargos have been in touch with that old man in Kaliningrad. She has someone monitoring his cell phone.”

  “Convenient.”

  “Or smart,” Rolfe replied. But Leopold had planted the seed of suspicion, and Rolfe couldn’t let it go. He decided to call her. “Tatiana,” he said when she answered. “Where is this hotel?”

  “I’m checking into it now. Easier to break in when I’m a guest.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “They’ve never seen me,” she said. “How can it hurt?”

  “I’ll meet you there. Where is it?”

  “Seriously?” She gave a cynical laugh. “You must take me for a fool to give out that information. All so your trigger-happy Wolfmen can come through here, shoot up the place, and bring in the authorities? We aren’t in the middle of the woods. We’re in the center of town. This calls for subtlety.”

  “My men had no problem breaking into their last hotel.”

  “And how did that work out for you?” she asked.

  The dig infuriated him. “Do you honestly believe I’m going to let you walk off with what they found?”

  “Unlike you, I keep my word. If they found these items in the tunnel, I’ll bring them to you. What I need is a way out of here when I do get them. I can’t exactly use a rental car, which can be traced back to me, or a taxi, with a driver who can act as a witness.”

  “What is it you’re planning?”

  “I expect they have to eat at some point. If—when—they do, we’ll go in. I’ll give you the location then.”

  “And what if they decide on room service?”

  “I doubt it. The restaurant in this hotel is less than adequate. Should that be the case, however, I’ll let you know, and you can do it your way. As long as I’m not around when it happens.”

  “I’ll wait for your call.”

  He disconnected, then told Leopold what she’d said.

  “The Russian’s playing you,” Leopold told him. “She’ll get what she wants and leave.”

  “Which will do her no good,” Rolfe said. “She doesn’t have access to the first tin. What good will the second do her?”

  “And what if she withholds it from you in order to negotiate a better deal?”

  He didn’t like the feeling of paranoia that Leopold was feeding him, but he wasn’t about to admit that the very thought had also occurred to him. “Let’s see if she delivers before we make that judgment.”

  “So we wait?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Yes. I call the men I have stationed in Wrocław to be ready.” Leopold picked up another box of ammunition and placed it into his gear bag, then grabbed the car keys. “And we drive there now so we’re that much closer.”

  They were about halfway to Wrocław when Tatiana texted, telling him that if he wasn’t on his way, he needed to be. It bothered him that she hadn’t suggested the idea sooner. Was she trying to play him, as Leopold suggested? He went over every detail of their relationship but couldn’t find anything that stood out as being overtly suspicious. Besides, he’d had her thoroughly vetted. At the moment, there was little he could do but wait.

  It was after eight when Tatiana called. Rolfe put her on speakerphone. “They’ve just left,” she said. “We’re watching from the next floor up in the same building.”

  “And that would be . . . ?”

  She named the hotel. “Wait at the south end. We saw them walking north. I don’t want them to see you.” She disconnected.

  Leopold called his men to tell them where to set up. “I know right where it is.” About two minutes later, he pulled behind a parked car with its emergency flashers on. Two young men loaded something into the trunk, then closed the lid, returned inside, leaving the amber lights blinking. “What are you doing here?” Rolfe asked. “She said the other end.”

  “Maybe so, but I didn’t survive this long in the Guard by listening to other people. You can see the front of the hotel from here. That’s good enough. And if we see the Fargos, even better.”

  After several minutes, Leopold grew restless. “Get behind the wheel. I’m going to have a look around.”

  “She might call.”

  “I won’t be far. She’s not getting out of here without us, is she? And if she does, I have at least half a dozen Guardsmen in the area.”

  He got out, then walked across the street, strolling along the rows of restaurants, pausing at one as though to look at the menu posted at the door. Rolfe moved to the driver’s seat, then turned his attention to the hotel, growing impatient. Control seemed to be slipping from his grasp, and he tried to pinpoint when that had actually started. Durin. It had started with Durin and his backroom dealing. And now there was Tatiana and her meddling. He didn’t like that she had inserted herself into his hunt for the Romanov Ransom. How had she even known about it?

  He searched the area for Leopold. Finally, he saw the man leaning against a streetlamp, his cigarette glowing in the dark as he smoked. His gaze seemed to be fixed on the window of a nearby restaurant. No doubt the man was capable—after all, he ran a widespread network far more mobile than anything Rolfe had at his disposal. That made him useful, but that also made him dangerous. Especially considering that the Wolf Guard’s sole purpose was to keep the treasure safe from anyone who went after it.

  He’d have to watch the man. But as long as their purposes were aligned, he was willing to overlook any blurring of who was actually in charge.

  What he couldn’t overlook was the nagging suspicion that Tatiana was up to something. Even so, he couldn’t fault the logic in monitoring that old man’s phone, especially if it ended up getting them the second tin box.

  What really bothered him was, she was always first.

  Surely he wasn’t jealous that a mere woman was besting him at his own game? Or was it something more?

  Before he had a chance to decide, Tatiana phoned.

  “I have it. We’ll be walking out the door in two minutes.”

  He looked around for Leopold, didn’t see him, so called. “Where are you? They have it. They’re on their way.”

  “I’m heading back now. By the way, we have a slight problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I found the Fargos.”

  “Where?”

  “Sitting inside that restaurant down the street. The one with the outdoor patio.”

  Rolfe could just make out the tables and chairs in the dark, and then Leopold quickly walking away from the place. “So what’s the problem? We knew they were going out to eat.”

  “Because there are two Russian agents sitting at a nearby table. I saw both at the Amber Museum following the Fargos. Only one reason I can think
of.” He stopped at the curb, waiting for traffic to clear. “Your Russian crime princess is a police agent.”

  46

  Remi watched as Felix, one of the Russian agents, received a text from Tatiana. “They’re waiting to be picked up in front of the hotel,” Felix said, putting enough money on the table to cover dinner. “I want to make sure they get off okay.”

  Felix walked to the door, Sam, Remi, and Nika right behind him. They stood in front of the restaurant, the two Russian agents watching the hotel. Sam glanced that way, then looked down the street in the opposite direction. Remi followed his gaze, catching sight of a parked vehicle with its emergency flashers on, then, behind it, another car, its blinking amber lights reflecting off the windshield. Nothing too suspicious until she saw a tall man coming up behind the car on the passenger side. He turned, looking their way, his gaze sliding right past Sam and Remi to Felix and Nika.

  “Sam,” Remi said. “Did you—”

  “I saw it. Call Tatiana,” he told Felix as he handed Remi his backpack. “They know we’re here.”

  “Of course they do,” Felix said, taking out his phone. He pressed her number, then put the phone to his ear, as the vehicle sped off toward the hotel. “You were supposed to be going to get something to eat.”

  “They weren’t looking at us,” Sam said. “They were looking at you.”

  “It’s going to voice mail,” Felix said.

  “Text her,” Sam called out as he raced toward the hotel. “Tell her they know.”

  He broke into a run. Remi threw his backpack over her shoulder and ran after him. Within seconds, the Guard’s car pulled to the curb in front of the hotel, the brake lights glowing red. Tatiana and Viktor were there, waiting. Tatiana slid her phone from her pocket, looking at the screen, as someone jumped out of the front passenger seat. He grabbed her arm, jerking her toward the car. Viktor lunged forward, trying to stop him. A gunshot cracked as Sam ran into the street, dodging cars as he crossed. Viktor fell. The man, using Tatiana as a shield, aimed at Sam.

 

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