The Cylon Curse
Page 17
“No idea, but they were well armed and well trained. They cut through the guards in minutes.”
Rafiq suppressed a curse. “Then?”
“Then they opened the back of a car, removed something, shot a couple more police, then took the car and the item.”
“Was it the urn?”
“Looked like it from here.”
“Whose car was it?”
“No idea, but I got the plates.”
Rafiq exhaled loudly. “Run them. I want to know whose it was. And if that car doesn’t belong to the professor, his wife is dead.”
“It’ll take me a few minutes, but the bottom line is, whoever these guys were, they’ve got the artifact, and there’s no way they work for the professor.”
Rafiq shook his head, closing his eyes. “Agreed. Call me as soon as you find out who the owner is.”
He ended the call, tugging at his beard in frustration.
“What did he say?”
He opened his eyes and looked at Zaman and the others. “Another team recovered the item.”
Zaman cursed. “Then we’re dead.” He gestured down the hall. “I say we kill them now, get out of here, and figure out how to make the sheik happy without getting ourselves killed.”
Rafiq nodded. “I don’t think we have a choice anymore. Even if the professor was telling us the truth, and that was his car that had the artifact in it, the fact still remains that he no longer has it. These other guys, and I have a pretty good idea who they are, have it, and my guess is it will be delivered into the hands of the sheik before morning prayers.”
An odd sound had him pausing, and he rose, staring about the room. “Do you hear that?”
Zaman shrugged. “I’ve barely heard anything since Mosul. What?”
“A high-pitched squealing sound.” It continued to get louder, and Rafiq stared at the window, certain it was coming from that direction.
Zaman rose. “I can hear it.”
They were all on their feet now, searching for the source as it continued to get louder. Rafiq tore open the curtains and stared out the window, but saw nothing.
Zaman pointed at the upper corner. “What’s that?”
Rafiq’s heart hammered hard and he opened the opposite window, reaching out and yanking the small device from the glass.
“What is it? A detonator?”
Rafiq shook his head as he held it up so the others could see. “It looks like it has a camera and microphone on it.”
“Police?”
He shook his head. “No, they would have either hit us by now, or asked us what our demands were.” He growled. “This has to belong to the other team. They’ve been listening in on us the entire time.”
Zaman’s eyes widened. “But how? How could they possibly know we were here?”
Rafiq stared down the hall. “They must have followed us from Damos’ place. That’s the only explanation.”
Zaman’s eyes widened further. “That means they’ve heard everything for hours!”
Rafiq held the device up to his face, pointing the camera at himself. “I don’t know who you are, but you have what I want. I suggest we meet to discuss it.” He entered his number on the keypad of his phone, then held it up to the camera. “I’ll expect your call.”
62 |
Outside the Suqut Brigade Safe House
Athens, Greece
Utkin laughed. “Well, that got their attention.”
Tankov entered the number displayed on the screen into his phone, smiling broadly. “I had a feeling having the window pane amplify the feedback might.”
Utkin pointed at the screen. “Did you see his face? It must have sounded like a phaser on overload in there.”
Tankov nodded. “Too bad they probably have no idea what that is.” The signal died, those inside evidently deciding they had been spied upon enough. Yet it didn’t matter. The entire point of this exercise was to get them out of the house regardless, making the cameras useless to them within the next few minutes.
“What now?”
“Now I think we do as they ask.”
“And when they ask for the artifact?”
“I put the fear of their Allah in them.”
Utkin grinned then pointed at the camera showing Damos’ room. “Something’s happening.”
63 |
King George Hotel
Athens, Greece
“Did you get that number?”
Tommy nodded as everyone gathered around the television, watching the replay of what had just appeared, the third camera, dark until this time, finally showing video. “It matches the one that was sending the text messages to the professor.”
Acton smiled. “And now we’ve got a face to go with it. Send that to Hugh so he can run it.”
“Yes, sir.”
The new image abruptly went blank.
“What happened?”
Tommy shrugged. “They probably killed it. I would.”
Laura pointed at the screen showing three images, one now blank. “Wait, what are they doing now?”
Tommy zoomed in on the feed of the man’s room and they all watched as the hostage-taker who had appeared on the camera a few moments ago entered.
“Your time is up.”
The man screamed against his gag, his eyes bulging with fear. He rubbed his mouth against his shoulder and the gag tore loose. “No, please wait! I have something important I have to tell you.”
The bearded man pointed his weapon at the man’s chest. “Sorry, no time.”
“But I know who—”
Two shots were fired in rapid succession, cutting off whatever was about to be said, leaving the entire room witnessing the murder in shocked horror.
Adelaide broke the silence. “What do you think he was about to say?”
Acton shook his head. “We’ll never know.” He snapped his fingers. “Put up Juno’s room.”
Tommy complied and they all took a collective breath as the shooter entered her room. The gag was yanked loose and her ties were cut.
“Please don’t kill me!”
The man shook his head. “We still need you.” He fished a phone from his pocket, the flashing display indicating a call. He smiled, holding it up for Juno to see. “But after this call? Who knows?”
Antoniou cried out in despair, looking at the others. “Where are the police?”
64 |
En route to the Suqut Brigade Safe House
Athens, Greece
Reading’s fingernails were embedded in the dash as he held on for dear life, Major Nicolo on the bumper of a squad car blazing a trail through the busy streets that were Athens. Units from around the city were apparently converging on the house discovered by Tommy, and Nicolo was none too pleased about how he had done it.
The major growled at him, still not over the slight. “I should have them arrested.”
“They’re too rich. One phone call and any charges you managed to come up with would be dropped.”
Nicolo growled. “Don’t they realize how much time they wasted? We could have contained the situation hours ago, and had her out by now.”
“Perhaps. Or they could shoot her the moment they see the first flashing light.”
“We have expert hostage negotiators. They would have been able to end this peacefully.”
Reading shook his head. “You’re dealing with the Suqut Brigade. These are fanatics. These people will never surrender. All we should be focusing on is Professor Galanos’ safe return.”
Nicolo shook his head then cranked the wheel, sending them careening around a corner. “If they’re fanatics, then how do you propose we get them to give her up?”
Reading frowned. “I’m afraid the only way might be an armed assault, but the only way that will work is if we plan it carefully. There can’t be too many of them in there, not after so many were killed at the dig site.”
“How many have your friends seen on camera?”
“As far as I know, only the
leader. My partner has identified him as Ahmed Rafiq. A true fanatic.”
“Well, I’ve got snipers on the way. If we’re lucky, we might be able to take most of them out.”
Reading chewed his cheek for a moment, an idea occurring to him when his phone rang. He checked the display then took the call. “Jim, we’re still en route.”
“How much longer?”
Reading looked at Nicolo. “ETA?”
“Five minutes.”
Reading returned to the call. “Five minutes.”
“They just shot the man they were holding. He’s dead.”
“And the professor’s wife?”
“She’s still alive. The leader just got a call.”
“What’s being said?”
“I don’t know. They discovered the camera in the room they’re gathering in, so we can’t hear anything there anymore. You have to hurry, Hugh, it looks like they might kill her, depending on what’s said in that phone call.”
Reading turned to Nicolo. “We might not have five minutes.”
65 |
Outside the Suqut Brigade Safe House
Athens, Greece
“You wanted to talk?”
Utkin pointed at the screen, facial recognition analysis of the footage captured earlier confirming the identity of the man Tankov was talking to. Ahmed Rafiq. A psychotic bastard if there ever was one.
It will be a pleasure to kill you.
“I want to deal.”
“But, Rafiq, my friend, you have nothing I want.”
There was a pause, and Tankov wished he could see the man’s face. “So, you know my name.”
“I do.”
“It changes nothing.”
Tankov grunted. “For you perhaps. For me? It means I control the situation completely.”
“I still have the professor’s wife.”
Tankov shrugged. “What do I care?”
“So, you don’t work for the professor?”
Tankov smiled. “I think you know who I work for.”
Another pause. “Sheik Khalid.”
“Exactly. He’s very disappointed that you tried to double-cross him.”
“But we didn’t! We never had it. You know that!”
Tankov decided to have some fun. “How do I know that?”
“Because you have the damned artifact!”
“I do?”
Rafiq growled. “Don’t play stupid with me. My man saw you hit the dig site. It was in the trunk of a car.”
Tankov made a mental note to see if he could track down the other man.
Just to be thorough.
“Well, if I have it, then I’ll be in the sheik’s good graces.” He winked at Utkin. “Gee, I’d hate to be in your shoes.”
“I’ll pay you to tell him the truth. That’s all I’m asking. Tell him the truth. Tell him that we never had it, that we never double-crossed him, and I’ll make it worth your while.”
Tankov loved the desperation now in the man’s voice. It meant he was ready to panic. “I don’t need money.”
“I’ll give you the woman.”
“I don’t need women. Kill her or don’t kill her. It makes no difference to me. When we arrive, you’re all dead anyway.”
He ended the call, tossing his phone on the workstation that extended along the entire left side of the van. “That should get him panicking.” He motioned at the displays. “Play back the fence getting shot. He said something just before he bought it.”
Utkin brought up the footage. Tankov watched, listening carefully. “What do you think he was about to say?”
“What? About who he knows?”
“Yeah. But I know who…” He paused, thinking about the possibilities. “I know who has it?”
Utkin shook his head. “No, that would mean he knows us.”
“Or he’s mistaken in who he thinks has it.”
“He was lying in order to save his life?”
Tankov scratched his chin. “Wait, bring up the footage where they took the woman to the bathroom.”
“Her room or his?”
“His.”
Utkin worked the controls, backing up the footage for both feeds until it showed her taken from the room. “Here we go.”
“Zoom in on his face. I noticed it earlier, but didn’t think much of it at the time.” He pointed at the screen as Damos’ jaw dropped. “See, he was surprised at something he saw.”
Utkin shrugged. “The only thing happening at the time was the woman being taken to the bathroom.”
Tankov nodded. “Exactly. How much do you want to bet that they walked her right past his room, and he recognized her?”
“Yeah, and he looked pretty angry after he saw whatever it was he saw.”
Tankov agreed. “Right. Surprised then angry. And then, just before they shoot him, he says, what was it?”
“Wait, there’s something I have to tell you, or something like that.”
“Exactly. Then he says, ‘but I know who.’ I bet you that he was going to say something like, ‘but I know who she is,’ or something to that effect.”
Utkin’s eyes narrowed. “But how does he know her? Were they having an affair or something?”
Tankov smacked him on the back of his head. “This isn’t a romance novel. She’s involved! She has to be!” He leaned back in his chair. “It has to be her. It makes perfect sense.”
“I’m lost.”
“Of course you are. You were artillery. Leave the thinking to the real soldiers.”
Utkin gave him the finger. “I was artillery for six months. I served ten years.”
“Six months is enough. The damage was done.”
“Haha. So, are you going to fill me in?”
Tankov pointed at the feed from the camera on the roof of the truck, positioned to monitor the street and the front of the house. “We’ve got activity.” He activated his comm, connecting to the rest of the team. “They’re leaving now.” He glanced at the camera showing the live feed of the woman’s room. It was empty. “It looks like they’re taking the female hostage with them. Let’s try not to kill her. She’s innocent in all this.”
Though he wasn’t so sure about that anymore.
Reading pried his fingernails from the dash and climbed out of the car, quickly taking in the scene before him, this apparently one of two staging areas, the other on the opposite end of the street where their hostage-takers were located. Dozens of police were rushing about, a roadblock already set up, a tactical team readying their gear.
This isn’t going to end well.
He followed Nicolo, wishing he spoke Greek, instead relying on his decades of experience to guess what they were going to do.
Nicolo cursed, enough concern on his face to have Reading poking his nose into the conversation.
“What?”
“They’re leaving the premises.”
Reading cursed, grabbing a pair of binoculars from one of the more junior men. He headed for the corner and peered around the building, spotting four hostiles and a woman.
Professor Galanos.
He turned back to Nicolo. “Are your snipers in position?”
Nicolo shook his head. “Not yet.”
Reading cursed again. “Then this is going to get ugly, quickly.”
“We’ll box them in and take them by force. We’ll have two dozen weapons on them in seconds.”
Reading shook his head. “That won’t work with these people. They want to die by the infidel’s hand. If you try to arrest them, they’ll open fire. Your only hope is to take them all out at once.”
Nicolo joined the cursing. “But we’re not ready.”
A squad car screamed onto the scene, lights and sirens blazing, a young officer stumbling out, clearly a bundle of nerves. Everyone turned, shouting at him, and his aghast expression confirmed he understood the mistake he had made.
Reading peered down the block, the hostiles staring in his direction.
“We’ve been made.
”
“The cops are here.”
Tankov cursed and activated his comm. “Okay, everybody fall back to Point Bravo.” He climbed into the van with two of the others, Utkin already at the wheel. Tankov sat in the passenger seat, peeling off his body armor and other accouterments of the trade, the guys in the back stowing it in hidden compartments as the displays and workstations flipped, replaced by fully-stocked tool cabinets.
They were now a commercial HVAC maintenance crew.
“Remember, calmly, slowly. There’s probably going to be a roadblock.”
Utkin glanced in his side mirror. “The hostiles are on the street with the woman. It looks like they’re debating whether or not to go back into the house.”
“Let’s not worry about that. Either way, they’re not going anywhere. Between the kidnappings and the murders, if they survive the next ten minutes, they’re going to prison for a long time. That should satisfy the client. If he wants, he can have them killed on the inside.”
They rounded a bend in the street and Tankov cautioned the others with a muttered warning, no lips moved. “Everyone stay calm, but no stupid grins. We’re just friendly Russian immigrants on our way home after a tough day on the job.”
But it didn’t matter.
They were waved through, the officers manning the barricade quickly moving it aside and impatiently urging them onward. Tankov gave the man nearest him a friendly nod as Utkin gently pressed on the gas, sending them through the cordon of police and back into the peaceful though questionable neighborhood.
“That was easy.”
Utkin grinned. “I have a trustworthy face.”
“What’s our range on the cameras?”
Utkin took a right, evidently anticipating where the question was leading. “We should be able to pick them up two streets over.”
“Do it. I want to see what happens so we can report, rather than have our client read about it in tomorrow’s paper.”
Utkin guided them into a parking spot moments later, the guys in the back already having reactivated the equipment. “I’ve got the signals.”
Tankov took his seat in the back, the two remaining cameras showing only empty rooms. “Send in a drone.”