The television blared as the announcer introduced the Bulls.
The home crowd roared.
Havel shook himself awake. He forced his eyes wide as the game started.
The Bulls won the tipoff.
***
Near Warrenton, a thick growth of juniper branches entwined with thorny Smilax vines blocked the trail. Bill Hamm stopped and dismounted the ATV. He unsheathed his machete and hacked at the tangle. The overgrown vegetation was an irritant, but also a comfort. The trail had not been cleared this past summer. Bill’s approach route would not be guarded.
Bill shoved the machete in its sheath and remounted his machine. It was growing dark fast and he was still several miles from the plant.
The ATV rumbled and bumped along. A doe leapt across his path and disappeared between two junipers.
Bill shivered. With the sun gone, the air was cold.
Ahead and some distance to the north, a shotgun blast broke the silence of the mixed pine woods. Startled, Bill stopped the ATV and listened. Had he heard what he thought?
Yes. Moments later a second blast echoed from the distant woods.
Bill started forward, but proceeded slowly.
He thought of the deer he had spooked. It was dark now. If the shots were from some random individual, then a poacher was at work in the woods. On the other hand, if the shots were from one of Hrubec’s guards, Bill’s route was under surveillance.
Bill had no desire to encounter a trigger-happy poacher in the dark. He had even less desire to shoot his way through an alerted guard.
Bill thought for a moment before setting his jaw. He needed to scout this plant.
He weaved the ATV forward through the brush-invaded trail.
***
Hrubec had studied the layout of the W&C Fire Equipment Company of Warrenton, Virginia. He had hidden video cameras in the trees along the main entrance road. He knew the layout of the grounds.
He expected Hamm to approach along the main route.
But Hrubec was aware of the overgrown trail from the south. There the gate in the high fence had rusted hinges, was thoroughly chained, and overgrown with ivy. The entrance had not been used for years.
But he had underestimated Hamm once, he would not repeat that mistake. Hrubec decided to guard the gate.
For the task, he chose William Johnson. “Willy” was the least-capable (in Hrubec’s estimation) member of the North Carolina team. However “least” was relative. Willy not only was good with computers, but highly skilled with an AK-47. And he knew this area. The year before, he had hunted deer on the unfenced wooded tracts that belonged to the company.
***
Hrubec sat before the TV monitors in his makeshift office in the construction trailer. Where was Hamm? He should have appeared by now.
He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. Much had happened in the few days since his arrival in the U. S.
His cell phone vibrated. It was Willy Johnson.
“Sir, someone fired a shotgun not far from here. Two shots. Could be a hunter, but maybe it’s your guy ‘Hamm.’”
“If it’s him, it might be a diversion. Hamm is smart.”
Willy waited. Hrubec decided.
“All right. When Hugo gets back I’ll send him to you. Hermann will stay here with me. Stay alert. Any more shots let me know right away.”
Hrubec scanned the monitors. An eighteen wheeler had stopped at the gate. He watched as Hermann checked the driver and verified that the van was empty.
Immediately after, the van backed to the dock and the loading began. The complex was bright with lights. Forklifts moved red tanks from the warehouse to the dock in rapid succession.
On the warehouse floor, scattered white lights blazed as numerous welders worked hard on tomorrow’s shipment.
Hrubec smiled.
All right, Erik, so you made these guys work! But you know too much. One more load tomorrow night and we won’t need you anymore.
Hrubec returned to the monitors.
***
Willy Johnson was nervous.
He was on the safe side of an overgrown gate rusted shut and not opened for years, and he had his AK-47 with a 50 round magazine ready to fire, along with two 30 round magazines in his pack. Moreover he had heard no more shotguns, probably just a good old boy sneaking some extra venison for the freezer.
But still he shook and shuffled his feet. He wished Hugo were here with him.
Where was Hugo? Hrubec had said that he would send Hugo to Willy when he came back. Why would Hrubec weaken his security by sending Hugo away? Even with Hugo they were short-handed.
It was dark now and his post was too well illuminated.
He was a sitting duck for an intruder who could eliminate him with a single well-placed shot.
Willy looked about. Not far from the lit perimeter was a tall oak, its trunk thick enough to shelter a man. In the shadows behind it he could watch the gate and be safely out of sight.
Willy lifted his pack by the straps and went to the tree. He took up his position next to the oak.
***
In Chicago, Peter Zeleny and Anne Simek returned to the Simek household. From within, the sounds of a basketball game echoed through the hallway to the outside door. It was late, but the game was in overtime.
They embraced.
“Anne, can I come in? Maybe we could talk to your father now?”
“Peter, the game is still on. He won’t like being interrupted. Besides it’s best if we give him more time.”
“Anne, I don’t want to wait. He has to know about us sometime. And my father is dead. What can be the problem?”
“I’m worried, that’s all. Please, for me, wait until tomorrow.”
Peter seized her and kissed her full force. A voice came from inside the house.
“Anna, shut the door. Is Chicago, not Carolina. The draft is freezing me. I’m watching the game.”
Anne looked up at Peter. The tone of her father’s voice confirmed that this was not the time to talk.
Peter smiled and kissed her forehead.
“Good night, Anne.”
He left.
***
At the Hampton Inn in Gainesville, Jeannine lay fully clothed on the bed. Her cell was at her side, ready for Bill’s call. She tried to stay awake, but she was tired from the lack of sleep the night before.
Her eyes closed and she dozed.
***
At the southern gate, an unhappy Willy Johnson stood in the shadows of the white oak tree. He was still alone. His reinforcement, Hugo, had not arrived.
Hurry up, Hugo. It’s spooky here.
A twig snapped behind him.
Willy wheeled about and peered into the darkness where the perimeter lights were ineffective. He pointed his weapon in the direction of the sound.
He strained to distinguish individual forms in the blackness.
Nothing moved.
***
Josef Hrubec surveyed the bank of monitors. The eighteen wheeler was loaded and on its way. His cameras followed the truck’s progress towards Lee Highway. He was relieved. Hamm had not stopped the shipment, and tomorrow night would see the last delivery from this plant.
His phone vibrated. It was Hugo, not Willy.
“Sir, you were right. Hamm’s Accord was a Hertz rental. I waited at their Gainesville office like you said. The woman who turned it in rented a Fiesta instead. I followed her to the Hampton Inn in Gainesville. She’s there for the night.”
“Her face matches my photo?”
“It does. And she has a great shape.”
“Her name is Ryan. This is what I want you to do.”
***
Jeannine’s sleep was interrupted by the buzzing of the phone on the end table. She picked up. It was the night clerk.
“Ms. Ryan, I’m sorry to bother you, but the Hertz rental office just called. There’s a problem with the insurance form for your rental. They forgot to give it to you to sign
.”
“It’s late. Isn’t the office closed? And how did they know I was here?”
“It is closed and we’re the fourth hotel in the area they called. But it was their mistake and they want you covered and don’t want any problems with their insurance company. One of their agents is here with the form. May I give him your room number. He’ll bring it up for you to sign.”
“No. Don’t do that. I’ll come down.”
She slid off the bed, and slipped into her sneakers. The elevator was only two rooms down the hall. She punched the down button and waited. The doors opened and she stepped in.
Out of the side of her eye she saw the form of a man. She tried to back out, but too late. An arm wrapped around her neck. She smelled the strong odor of chloroform.
The elevator doors closed as she slumped to her knees.
Then all was black.
***
Josef Hrubec was still watching the TV monitors, when his cell phone vibrated anew.
“Sir, I have Ryan. I chloroformed her. She’s in the van.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“I had to talk to the night clerk, but he never saw Ryan, or us together. I trapped her in the elevator.”
“Good work, Hugo. That woman is my answer to Hamm. Get her here as fast as you can.”
Hrubec sat and rubbed his hands together, but his satisfaction ended quickly.
Automatic weapons’ fire resounded from the direction of Willy’s gate.
***
At his station by the rusted gate, Willy Johnson fired a second burst into the darkness behind the oak tree.
Again, nothing. No sounds, no rustling leaves. No cries, animal or otherwise, from the deep shadows. Nothing.
He moved towards the fence. The lit area stopped at the rusted gate. Beyond that the fence stretched back towards the warehouse complex.
Willy stepped carefully, to avoid cracking the dry branches that littered the “fire-break” alongside the fence.
All was quiet.
He hefted his weapon. The extra magazines were in his pack at the oak tree, but he was not worried. He had discharged maybe 20 rounds, but it was a 50 round magazine. Still plenty of firepower.
The clouds above him broke and a partial moon lit the fence in a faint glow.
Willy looked up. There, intact but shredded in spots, a thick tarp lay draped over the sharp wire that topped the fence.
Someone had crossed the barrier and was inside!
He was no longer alone.
***
Willy Johnson had to notify Hrubec. He reached for his cell phone.
Damn. It’s in my pack.
He spun about. In the dim moonlight, the path along the fence was clear as far as the gate. He retraced his steps, AK-47 ready.
Willy reached the white oak. His pack lay at the base of the trunk.
He stooped to reach for it.
Damn it. Where’s my phone?
A sound came from behind him. He looked back. Too late.
The butt end of a 9 mm Beretta smashed his head. Willy fell unconscious.
***
Bill Hamm secured the hands and ankles of the prostrate form at his feet. The ID was a Virginia License issued to a “William Johnson.” Bill texted Tom Fletcher at the safe house.
“Check on William Johnson, age 26, Chantilly, Virginia. If he’s dirty, call Bill Weaver at the FBI in Manassas to get a warrant to search the W&C Fire Equipment Company of Warrenton, Virginia for him. I’ll make sure they find him. I have him tied up.”
Bill dragged Johnson’s unconscious form deep into the shadows.
During the next half hour, Bill watched the activity at the loading dock. Forklifts had placed a number of large red tanks there, waiting for the arrival of the next truck.
Bill jumped as he heard a whisper from near the gate.
“Willy where are you. This is Hugo. I’m back. Hrubec sent me to help you.”
Bill fingered his Beretta. Minutes passed. Apparently Hugo was talking on his phone.
The next words he heard were Hugo’s, directed into the nearby trees.
“Hamm! We know you’re here. We know you have Willy, but Hrubec has your girl. I tracked her from the Hertz rental in Gainesville. She’s dead if you don’t come out now.”
A pause.
“You hear me, Hamm. Give up. If you want to see your precious redhead again, come out. Now!”
“You have three seconds.”
“One, ... ... ..., Two, ... ... ..., ”
***
******
Chapter 39
Thursday, December 2
Jeannine Ryan’s head ached and she wanted to throw up.
What? Where am I? The hotel?
She opened her eyes. She was on a dusty tile floor. She struggled to rise, but her ankles were taped together and dizziness overcame her. She lay back against an empty shelf and tried to recoup her thoughts. The desk clerk at the Hampton Inn had talked about insurance forms.
I went to the elevator. There was a man. Ouch, my head!
A bare bulb hung from the ceiling overhead. There were no windows. On either side of her were rows of shelves lined with cartons and small crates.
A storeroom or a large closet? How?
She shook her head to remember.
The elevator! Someone had gripped her neck and thrust a rag over her face. A sickening smell, then nothing.
Her wrists were bound. She tried to twist free, but the duct tape held. She was going nowhere.
She was a prisoner.
***
Erik Holub stood in front of his desk at the W&C Fire Equipment Company. He waited for Hrubec to speak. The latter sat comfortably in Erik’s chair.
Finally, Hrubec broke the silence.
“Erik, last night went well, very well. The last shipment is today. Will it be ready?”
Erik looked out over the shop floor. Bright flashes of white light punctuated the work area. Each welding station had twin Oxygen and Acetylene tanks mounted on a rolling cart. All were in use. By each cart, a welder and assistant were hard at work. The whole area was alive with activity.
Erik was satisfied. The men were busy in spite of little rest. He turned back to Hrubec and nodded.
“We’ll be ready.”
“All right. You can leave now, I need to think about security.”
Erik exhaled in relief. As he left, he heard Hrubec’s voice behind him.
“Get in here Hugo. We need to talk.”
***
Josef Hrubec rose from the chair and paced behind the desk. Hugo stood and waited. A few more paces, and Hrubec turned and spoke.
“All right, tell me again, slowly, you did not find Willy?”
“No. And I went back again in the daylight. There’s no sign of him, except his backpack. He’s disappeared.”
“His phone?”
“Not in the backpack. Willy’s gone. There’s an old tarp or blanket on top of the fence. He must have climbed over.”
Hrubec frowned.
“You said Hamm was there. What made you think that?”
“You told us Hamm would come. When I saw Willy was gone, I assumed Hamm had him. I phoned you first. When you told me to call into the bushes, I did it. I told him to come out, or you would kill the girl. He didn’t show.”
“But you never saw him, or heard anything?”
“Nothing.”
“So you only guessed Hamm was there?”
“Right, I guessed somebody had Willy. I thought it must be Hamm.”
“And when no one came out when you counted the seconds, you concluded Hamm was not there?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Hrubec stopped pacing. He sat behind the desk and rubbed his eyes. I need men to work for me, not idiots. Then he stared at Hugo.
“So you think Willy deserted us, that he ran away.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask yourself why Willy would do that?
Hugo stood silent.
/> “All right, Hugo, there’s a cot in the corner. Catch a nap. I’ll wake you when I need you.”
Hrubec frowned and resumed pacing.
Very clever, Hamm. I know you were there. And you knew this idiot had not seen you. But I have Ryan. You still have to come to me!
***
Hrubec was thorough. He had not survived by being careless. If Hamm were on the grounds, the FBI would soon follow.
He called a certain individual at the Northern Virginia Resident Agency of the FBI in Manassas, Virginia.
That individual had at times performed “innocuous” favors for Hus-Kinetika staff. Today his answer to Hrubec’s innocuous question was brief and to the point.
“Yes, they are getting a search warrant for the W&C now. Judge Henley will be back about two this afternoon. He should sign it then.”
Hrubec hung up. Rather than being upset, he was pleased. His gut feelings were still sound. The Americans are too slow.
Nice try, Hamm. Too bad the FBI won’t be here in time to help you or Ryan.
***
Hrubec picked up his cell to call Erik Holub, but the phone vibrated before he could punch the number. It was Fiala in Prague. She gave no greeting.
“Please hold for Mr. Moravec.”
Hrubec gritted his teeth. You little snit. He waited.
“Josef, what can you tell me?”
“I have Ryan, and with her as bait, I’ll soon have Hamm.”
“Good. Now what about W&C Fire Equipment?”
“I moved up the schedule. Half the tanks went out to the first charging area last night. The rest will ship today.”
“Excellent. I’ll inform our buyer. Anything else?”
“Yes, Holub is a weakling. I’ll have to silence him once the tanks are ready.”
The Prague Plot: The Cold War Meets the Jihad (Jeannine Ryan Series Book 3) Page 26