by Terry Mixon
“Yeah, I sure hope Sandra doesn’t have to come in after us,” she said to the Italian. “I’m not sure she could manage it.”
“You know I can hear you, right?” Sandra’s voice said in her earbud.
Jess laughed a little. “I forgot. Are you seeing all this?”
“I sure am. Don’t worry. We can get you out if push comes to shove.”
The man himself met them at the front door. She could tell it was Romano because his morbidly obese form matched the description Harry had given her. He was almost a cartoon of a human being. To say that he looked ludicrous in a tailored suit was an understatement.
The initial conversation was in Italian, but Paolo switched to English after a moment. “And this is my assistant, Jessica. She’s fresh from our American branch and doesn’t speak Italian.”
The large mobster held out a meaty hand for her. It was sickeningly damp. She resisted the urge to wipe her hand on her pants when she reclaimed it.
“Welcome to Italy, Jessica,” Romano said in a deep, rumbly voice. “If the two of you come inside, I will explain the situation. One of my assistants will accompany you on a tour of the building, of course.”
Obviously. He wouldn’t be making any long trips along the grounds. Stairs must be a challenge.
And, as it turned out, not a worry. He had an elevator.
A man in coveralls was painting the wall beside the staircase. Whoever had done the repair work hadn’t done such a terrific job. Jess could still see a few dimples. Bullet holes, she imagined. That would be an ugly reminder to the mobster of past failures.
Romano pulled a key from his vest and unlocked one of the doors near the end of the hall. It opened into an office. Her heart leapt in her chest. They might be able to get what they needed right up front. That would be a wonderful break.
Jess examined the Egyptian figurines in one of the cases as Romano sat behind his large desk. “This is a wonderful collection. Forgive me for asking, but did someone try to steal them?”
“No,” Romano said with a snarl. “The bastards kidnapped my daughter and took her to America. My ex-wife, an unfit woman with the morals of an alley cat, paid someone to take her. I want this house to be a vault before I bring her back.”
Paolo nodded. “Of course. We’ll do everything in our power to make certain that she’s safe here. Do you know how they obtained entrance to your property?”
Jess walked from case to case, slowly inching toward the one she most wanted to see.
“They came over a wall in the dead of night. They used darts to knock out my guards and myself. I shot several of them, but they overwhelmed me. The man outside is fixing the bullet holes I made. The guards who failed were severely punished.”
“Bullshit,” Sandra said in her ear. “Harry shot him in the ass before he even got his pistol out of the nightstand. One of the guards shot the wall when we darted him.”
The pieces Jess was seeing were good. Some of the paintings looked like authentic Renaissance masters. She wondered if Romano had stolen them. Or paid someone who had. She couldn’t see him climbing through a window in the dead of night.
Paolo made sympathetic noises. “Was the home alarm activated before the intrusion?”
“No. The idiots never turned it on. The intruders made their way in through the patio. The interior guards were no match for them, either. Pathetic. You must look at every door and window, scan every wall. I want no weakness left when you finish. Money is no object, but don’t think to cheat me. I will know.”
Jess stepped in front of the low case that held the pages. They were definitely from the Voynich Manuscript. The lettering was unmistakable.
She listened to Romano drone on with half an ear as she scanned them one by one, looking for any sign that might help them decode the book.
Her heart sang when she found something on the next to last page. It was only a few lines at the bottom, but there was the strange alien script set beside something in what looked like Italian. Or perhaps an older variant of what became Italian. She wasn’t a linguistics expert.
Maddeningly, the page after it had just a few lines at the top. What she needed to see was on the back of the pages and they were under locked glass.
Somehow, she had to get this case open.
* * * * *
It took a few hours to gather the team in another hangar. Harry led the briefing, showing them where they’d be landing, where in the building they’d be going, and running through the timeline for the assault.
The building schematics were a tremendous help. He knew which floor had the loading dock, where his mother stationed her security teams, and which paths might make for the fastest ingress.
The reactor was supposedly in a container, which meant the only means of transportation was a big rig. He had several people that could drive one, so they were ready.
Only a few roads allowed commercial traffic of that size. A cargo container was tall. If he picked the wrong street, a bridge might give them an unpleasant surprise. And, only the very largest cargo planes could even carry the damned thing. Those factors limited his options for extraction.
“Cradock, what are we doing for transport to Mexico? That’ll dictate where we have to take this thing.”
The large man grinned. “You’ll like this. We’re going to steal your mother’s transport plane, too. It’s on the ground at Charles De Gaul. Once you guys are committed, my team will liberate the plane. We’ll fly it to the regional airport nearest the facility and be waiting for you. With all the hullabaloo, we’ll be halfway across the ocean before they notice the plane is gone.”
Harry liked it. “How do we keep them from using traffic cameras to determine our path? Once we’re moving, we’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”
“I’ve arranged to have half a dozen legitimate cargo containers being moved around the area about the time you leave. All through local businesses that won’t be traced back to us. You’ll get lost in the rush.”
“Good enough.” Harry checked his watch. “Let’s go talk to the pilots. Please get everyone that isn’t cleared out of the other hangar.”
“On it.”
Harry and his team leaders took a van with dark windows to the first hangar when they got the all clear. Once the main doors to the hangar closed, he stepped out.
Four men in flight suits waited beside the planes. “The co-pilots are in the aircraft getting them ready,” Cradock said. “Everyone has already been briefed on the plan.”
One of the pilots, a tall man with a buzz cut, stuck out his hand. “Mister Rogers, I’m John McCarthy, formerly a Lieutenant Colonel in the US Marines. Call me Black Jack. I’m the flight leader. I need to say I’m damned impressed with your bravery. Damned impressed.”
Harry smiled and gave him a firm handshake. “Then I’ve probably underestimated how scary this is going to be. Thanks for your service, sir.”
“Hell, I’ve heard about some of the things you did in the sandbox, so thank you for your service. Time is short, so let me run you through the flight plan.
“We’ll lift off in half an hour and run a series of engagements with the frogs. Excuse me, the French Air Force. The plan is to break contact and let them find us again half a dozen times.”
The pilot patted the side of one of the aircraft. “At that point, we go active and ditch them. By the time they cry uncle, we’ll have you delivered onto the roof of the target building. The bad guys won’t know we’re coming until the first plane—mine—drops you on the roof.”
He gave Harry a smug look. “That ought to scare the living shit outta them. Everyone in that building will know we’ve arrived and your clock starts ticking.
“Make no mistake, we’re going in hot and I expect you to unass my aircraft in an expeditious manner. Then you need to clear the LZ because the next plane is right behind me. Once we drop all of you, we circle back to pick up our hosts. Questions?”
The military speak for exiting the jet made him sm
ile. “Are you sure you can break contact?”
He gave Harry a disbelieving look. “Seriously? They’re French. That means we’ll need to work extra hard the keep them from giving up before we’re ready.”
* * * * *
Jess turned back toward the men. “These are really interesting. Is there a chance I could look at one more closely?”
The fat man gave her a disapproving scowl. “You are not here to ooo and ahhh over my art collection. I’ve never understood why Americans are so pushy. My man will take you to examine the house and grounds. Good day.”
Paolo stood and gave the man a half-bow. “Thank you for your time.”
Another man opened the door and they filed out behind him. “Shall we start with the first floor?” he asked.
Jess fell back a little. “Dammit. If he’d have just been a little more accommodating, we could’ve been home free,” she murmured.
“Don’t get all tore up about it,” Sandra said. “You saw enough to know there’s something worthwhile. That was Italian, right?”
“It sure looked like it. If I can get that one page flipped over, we might be able to unlock enough to make some headway. The author obviously knew something of both languages.”
“Don’t get carried away and blow this,” Sandra said. “You’ve already expressed an interest in the pages. You can’t get back in there without him getting the wrong idea.”
“Maybe I can slip away. Get in while everyone else is busy.”
“Bad idea. Really bad idea. Don’t even try it. Am I clear?”
Jess sighed. “Crystal clear.”
They made their way through the ground floor. Jess added to the conversation when Paolo prompted her as she looked at everything. She wanted as complete a visual record as possible.
Once they’d made the rounds below, the man led them toward the patio. “Next we can look at the grounds.”
Paolo frowned. “We should examine the upper floors before we make the rounds outside.”
“According to the weather report, there will be rain in an hour. It would be best to look at things in the light, don’t you think?”
“I have a wonderful suggestion,” Romano said from the doorway leading toward the elevator. Jess hadn’t seen him there. He moved quietly for such a large man.
“Why don’t you take your time examining the grounds while I escort your associate on a tour above? I’ll be certain to show her everything she needs to see.”
“Did he really just say that?” Sandra demanded. “Hell, no. Do not go anywhere alone with this sleazeball.”
Jess smiled at Romano. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
* * * * *
Harry and the men from his best two teams, now called Team One for convenience, strapped into the back of the lead plane before the ground crew opened the hangar and towed the jet out. Takeoff was smooth and easy. He wore a headset to listen as the mock war games took place. The French pilots sounded competent enough.
He mentally went back over the plan. He wanted to play out all the worst outcomes he could think of. Walking into a prepared enemy scared him the most. If his mother’s people were ready for them, they might all die in that building.
About twenty minutes before the planned assault time, Black Jack called him on the private channel. “We’re almost ready to break away. I got word from your large friend that the distraction group is setting off a couple of alarms in the sewage tunnels. Not enough to make them sure an attack is coming, but maybe enough to relocate some of their people to be ready for one. Your other teams are staged to provide an escape corridor for you and the package.”
“Copy that, Colonel. Good luck on breaking contact.”
“If you keep insulting me like that, I’m not going to buy you any drinks later.”
Harry laughed.
Right on schedule, the planes dove for the deck. “Active countermeasures activated,” Colonel McCarthy said. “Everyone form up on me.”
The French pilots had lost the Rainforest jets before, so they didn’t sound too upset. Of course, they’d always reacquired them quickly.
By the time the formation was approaching the BenCorp facility, the French controllers were getting a little frantic.
“You’re sixty seconds from drop,” Black Jack said. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, Colonel,” Harry said. “See you for that drink soon.”
He hung up the headset and stood. “Thirty seconds. Stand in the door.”
The red light in the rear started blinking. Harry led his people to stand under it. The plane slowed and his knees flexed to take up the pressure as the rear ramp lowered. Parking lots and buildings seemed to be sliding quickly by right below him.
The engines went full VTOL and a rooftop appeared only a few feet away. When the momentum was almost gone, Harry ran down the ramp as the jet thundered behind him. As soon as the last man cleared, the jet reoriented and lifted like a giant bird of prey, vanishing into the darkness.
He could already hear the next jet coming in. “Go!”
His people ran for the roof access as the second jet came barreling in out of the darkness to offload more of his people. It was damned impressive. He’d buy two if he could afford them.
“Alarm off, door open,” Jeremy said.
Harry followed them in. Now he’d find out if their plans had a chance in hell of working. They charged down the stairs with their weapons up and hunting for targets.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Romano led Jess back to his private elevator. “Please pardon me if I sounded brusque earlier. Times such as these try a man’s soul. Allow me to make up for my boorish behavior. Perhaps a glass of wine? I assure you my cellar is quite good.”
“That sounds lovely. Thank you.”
“Don’t trust this guy,” Sandra said through Jess’ earbud. “He’s the kind to slip something in your drink.”
Jess couldn’t respond, but she’d already considered that. How would Romano explain any sudden issues she developed to Paolo? There was no telling. She’d figure out how to stop him as she went.
He once more escorted her into his office. “Perhaps you should take another look around while I pour for us.” His insincere and oily smile cemented the thought that he had something in mind.
Her brain raced. “I shouldn’t drink while I’m working.”
“What can one glass harm? I insist.”
Jess went over to the case with the manuscript pages, taking her glasses off and holding them so that Sandra could see behind her.
“Yeah, he’s looking at you and acting all sly. He’s putting something into your glass. Don’t drink it. I’m moving the team up to his property line.”
She put her glasses back on and looked at the manuscript pages again. If she ever wanted to see them, she needed to figure out how to turn this situation around. And she’d like to avoid even the thought of this bastard doping and raping her.
Romano stepped up beside her and handed her a glass of red wine. “These are beautiful, are they not? My grandfather bought them after the Second World War. Well, during it, really. No one can read them, but they look pretty.”
He smiled at her. “Drink. I must know what you think of the vintage.”
Jess faked taking a sip, hoping that mere contact with her lips wouldn’t let the drugs into her system. “Mmm. I’m no expert, but it’s good. Would you mind if I take a closer look at one of the pages?”
The fat man considered her request and then nodded. “For just a moment. These are very old, so do not touch them.” He set his wine glass on a nearby case and dug out his keys.
She wiped the rim of her glass clean of lipstick and set it down beside his while he focused on the lock. She picked up his drink and took a sip, putting her mark on the glass.
The wine was actually quite good. Fruity with a hint of something earthier.
Romano raised the lid and stepped back. “You can place your glass on the other case. I don’t want to risk yo
u spilling anything on these valuable artifacts.”
Jess watched with a smile as he picked her old glass up and took a sip. Karma was a bitch.
* * * * *
It only took a few floors for Harry to realize that they’d completely surprised his mother’s forces. If they’d been lying in wait, he’d have seen them already. Even now, the rest of his teams were spreading through the building, heading for the strong points.
No alarms rang out. Had they not heard the jets? Did they mistake them for something else? He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to complain.
Jeremy had bypassed the systems at the roof door. As long as they didn’t use the elevators—which would’ve been stupid—the security teams would only see them if they were monitoring the upper floors.
Or when Team Two hit the security center.
Team Two peeled off when they got to the appropriate floor. The rest of them continued down. Automatic weapons firing in controlled bursts told him the moment his men attacked. Then the alarms went off.
They reached the ground floor in a rush. The stairwell opened into the center of the building. Rex moved out with teams three and four. They’d keep the enemy forces from getting back into the building.
Harry took his team to the interior loading dock and dove for cover when the security guards started shooting. He fired off a long burst to pin the enemy down as his men came in behind him.
The container was still where he expected it to be, thank God, already loaded and ready to move. Everyone had orders to avoid shooting the nuclear reactor, but some of the BenCorp security people decided to hide behind it. That delayed his men from securing the room.
A bullet ricocheted off the concrete beside him. He ducked lower. “Get those bastards.”
One by one, the enemy fell to their fire. He tallied his men as soon as the area was secure. Two wounded, one seriously. The medic saw to them as Harry assessed the container. They’d locked it, but a bolt cutter fixed that.