Carpathian (35 page)

“Very good, the Air Force is as efficient as ever and my compliments to your team for the weather heads-up.” Niles rubbed his chin as he saw their cargo being removed from the lower compartments of the 747 and was sorry to hear that the equipment would be out of U.S. hands.

As the Event Group personnel filed by the two watchful airmen, the American Air Force personnel saw the strange makeup of this NATO survey team. The two men exchanged looks after a smiling Charlie Ellenshaw walked past and gave the men a horrid open-handed salute and a broad smile until the crazy white-haired professor was pushed forward by Pete Golding. The last was Jack Collins, who looked the airmen over. They knew immediately that this man was an officer—one that looked capable—very capable and that instinctual, self-survival mechanisms that all private soldiers get when around a man they knew was a real soldier.

“NATO assayers my ass,” the smaller of the two airmen said as the door closed behind Jack.

The sergeant looked up at the red-liveried 747-200 and shook his head.

“Just who in the hell are these people?”

THE EDGE OF THE WORLD HOTEL AND RESORT CASINO, DACIAN HOT SPRINGS, ROMANIA

At two that afternoon over a thousand of the specially chosen guests of Dmitri Zallas were wandering through the hotel and the attached casino with mouths agape. Never had they seen anything like the Edge of the World in all of Eastern Europe. With the guests still flowing in for the first night of the three-day weekend they were matched by one attendant for every four guests—a major concern of Janos Vajic. His bottom line was going to bottom out over the losses this party would generate.

Vajic smiled as best he could as he stood inside the long covered walkway that connected the hotel proper with the real moneymaker next door—the casino with the name placed above the entrance in golden letters—the Dacian Room.

Janos stiffened when he saw Zallas approach with one of the five differing women he had seen him with in just the past two hours.

“I must say your staff is exceedingly efficient. My guests thus far truly believe they are in a Las Vegas–run facility. And I cannot wait for the grand opening of the castle tomorrow night. I expect the staff will be as professional there as here.”

Vajic nodded his head in acceptance of the compliment but deferred speaking in front of the Romanian bimbo currently inhabiting the man’s personal space.

“The interior minister has not arrived as of yet?” Zallas asked smiling as six guests walked past dressed in their finery on their way into the casino.

“I have not been informed as such. I suppose he will wait until night has fallen to make an appearance.” Janos looked at Zallas. “That would camouflage his arrival to the press corps that is building up outside the gates. Another matter you said not to worry about.”

Zallas caught the slight toward his other partner in the tangled web of financing for the Edge of the World along with the sniping about the press near the front gate. He only laughed.

“Very good, Janos, very good.” He stopped smiling as he leaned toward the Romanian. “Make sure your outstanding wit does not make an appearance in front of the minister. Am I understood? If not, that wit will bury you, quite literally.”

Vajic watched the smile return to the bearded face of the Russian as he placed a protective arm around the girl and slowly walked into the casino without a look backward.

“God help me,” he muttered.

Around him the excited guests of Dmitri Zallas knew they were in for the most interesting weekend in recent memory. And as fate would have it, they were indeed in for a most interesting and wild weekend.

EIGHTY MILES FROM PATINAS PASS

The man sat and waited for the fax that was incoming from his contact inside the governing body of the state of Israel. The person that was sending the information that he waited on was embedded in the Israeli Security Council and received every bit of sensitive military intelligence that the prime minister was briefed on every morning.

Ben-Nevin was close to the woman and her pet dog and he knew it. It was that very same unusual animal that had him concerned, as he had never seen anything like it in all his experience. The size alone was terrifying and even more worrisome was the way the beast was handled by the girl. Ben-Nevin could not believe the narrow escapes from death he had experienced in just the past two days. For a man who had never had to use a weapon in anger he had almost lost everything before he had a chance to complete his mission.

The small roadside gas station had an eating area where you could force down a cold drink and a sandwich from a machine. The colonel had forgone the plastic-wrapped sandwich stuffed with greasy-looking sausage and settled for a soft drink. He sat waiting for the only fax machine within twenty miles to beep behind the counter where the bored clerk leaned against the service counter looking at a filthy magazine. It had cost the colonel his inexpensive wristwatch and twenty euros for the use of the gas station fax machine, which the clerk was unsure how to use in the first place.

His men were waiting outside in the false light of the evening underneath blinking and burned-out fluorescent lighting. After the train incident his men were jumpy and every time the lights flickered they looked about nervously. Ben-Nevin was smirking at his men as he knew they would feel much more apprehensive if they knew what it was that was traveling with the major. An abomination from a horror movie was walking with the woman and if they had seen what he had on the train he likely would no longer have any men to command.

As soon as his information arrived confirming the woman’s destination and the rest of the acquisition element being sent to him by friends of the organization, he would move.

As he sipped the Romanian version of cola through a straw he heard the phone behind the counter ring and then ring again in rapid succession. Ben-Nevin looked up and the burly man nodded his head. He disappeared toward the back of the small office adjacent the counter area.

Ben-Nevin used a napkin to dab at his thin mustache and then he pushed the can and napkin away and stood, careful using his wounded right hand with his missing fingers. By the time he reached the counter the clerk was back holding a sheet of fax paper. He held it out but just far enough out of the colonel’s reach that the gesture was clear. The man thought he deserved more money for the fax. Ben-Nevin smiled and then moved his left hand and pulled back his sport coat only slightly, just enough to expose the handle of the Glock nine-millimeter he was carrying. The colonel shook his head.

The clerk froze for the briefest of moments and then he too smiled a toothless grin and handed over the fax. Ben-Nevin took the fax but held the man’s eyes long enough that he soon lost the stupid smile and turned away.

The colonel quickly read the fax and smiled.

“I knew you were close, you little witch,” he said as he folded the fax and placed it in his coat.

Just as he realized he was only miles away from probably the richest archaeological finds in the history of the world, several sets of headlights pulled into the gas station. The clerk’s eyes widened when he saw how many men piled out of the seven cars. The new arrivals stretched and then shook hands with the men who had arrived earlier with the man with the mustache. The clerk turned and looked at the colonel, who was also looking at him. The heavyset attendant swallowed as the colonel raised his right hand. Then he smiled and raised his damaged and bandaged hand to his lips. “Shhh,” he said as he turned and left the station.

He walked out and shook hands with the men who had arrived to assist him in recovering what was Israel’s and although the men didn’t know it, they were also going to help him kill the little witch and her abnormally large dog.

“Gentlemen, I assume our equipment is in the trunks, so let’s move out. I want to make camp outside our target area and wait for our lady friend to arrive.”

“And where is the target area?” asked one of the bearded men who had just arrived.

Ben-Nevin pointed at the dim outline of the Carpathians in the near distance.

“Up there is where our reward will be found, my friends.”

“Does this place have a name?” the same man asked as he opened the rear door for the colonel.

“Yes, the Patinas Pass.”

*   *   *

Fifteen miles from Dacian Hot Springs and the NATO encampment, the two Black Hawks flying in formation peeled off from the Sikorsky executive helicopter. Inside the large helicopter Jack Collins felt for the invitation Europa had forged from the sample that had been sent to Jack by Henri Farbeaux, who owed the Group more than he could ever repay for the way they assisted in the Frenchman’s escape of American justice two months before. The invitation request was just the start of Jack’s plans for Colonel Farbeaux.

Collins smiled as he watched Pete Golding fiddling with his suit. The green tailored garment came complete with a bright gold cravat, and it was this item that made Pete look like an out-of-place version of Hugh Hefner—minus the girls and add on the horn-rimmed glasses.

In the corner seat facing the front of the Sikorsky, Jason Ryan was dozing with his chin resting on his hand. He was dressed like a newly installed but well-to-do young criminal fresh off the boat from Spain. Why Ryan chose that nationality Collins couldn’t fathom because as far as he knew Ryan had learned only one language in school and that was English, and at times even that talent was questionable.

Collins shook his head as he realized the newly promoted lieutenant commander could sleep through anything. It had to have been his naval aviation training that allowed the small man to tune out any noise after learning to ignore the jet engines of fighters. He smiled and then looked at Sarah, who was in turn looking at him. Her smile was magic to Jack as he took her in. She was dressed in an expensive Paris-made pantsuit that would be the envy of any woman at the Group if they had seen Sarah wearing it. It was white with a green blouse that just set off her eyes. Her hair, although short, was something Collins could never get enough of touching in more private moments, and it was now that he regretted any doubts that he may have had in regard to Sarah and the Frenchman. That smile she was currently hitting him with answered everything.

“Colonel?” The Air Force pilot’s voice came over the speaker on the side of the bulkhead. “Get everyone awake, we’re landing at the resort in two minutes.”

Jack and Sarah looked out the window on her side and saw the lights of the massive resort complex. The colonel’s eyes went past the hotel and up toward the mountaintop and remained there for a few seconds.

“Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” Jason said as he yawned and nodded out the large window. “Halfway up the mountain,” he said, pointing.

As they looked up toward the pass the purple and blue spotlights mixed with smaller white ones and enhanced by several blue and purple laser beams played a dance on the stone of Dracula’s Castle. The massive structure sat high above the resort and was reached by the giant cable car line reaching upward toward the strangest site any of them have ever seen on the face of a mountain. The castle with its five large parapets and the actual working drawbridge was not the only star of the mountainside attraction; the cable cars that sat motionless were the largest anyone had seen. The whole scene looked as if it had sprung from the pages of an Alistair MacLean novel.

“Think old Vlad the Impaler envisioned this for his legacy?” Sarah asked no one in particular as their helicopter started to settle onto the landing pad where four valets awaited their arrival.

“You know, I’m really starting to think that the bad guys’ side pays better,” Ryan said as he noticed the richly appointed valets in their bright red jackets and black pants.

“But our side has a more reliable 401(k) and far better dental,” Jack said as he unfastened his seat belt and then waited for the rear door to be opened.

“Well, here’s your chance to see how those bad guys live, Jason. Who knows, I can see you getting used to this life,” Sarah quipped as she released her belt.

Ryan shook his head as the other door opened. “As the colonel just said, we’ve seen a lot of these jerks retired early and permanently, so, no thanks, I’ll take my Navy pay and call it a day.”

As the four passengers stepped down from the Sikorsky, the valets emptied the baggage compartment and escorted the team into the hotel. They entered the main lobby and were stunned by the medieval artwork, weapons, and tapestries that lined the interior of the gorgeous property. Suits of armor of varying descriptions stood guard at every entrance and exit. Giant chains held a drawbridge in place that led into the breezeway connecting the hotel to the casino. Every detail was meticulously sculpted, carved, or molded.

“I think you were right the first time, Jason, I could get used to this,” Sarah said as she stared in awe at the 180-foot atrium reaching up to the sky—the core of the immaculate design.

“You would think the hotel would be far more crowded,” Ryan said as he followed their luggage.

“Yeah, but when you consider that this crowd here is only the friends and business acquaintances of Dmitri Zallas you have to admit it’s a decent turnout.” Collins also followed Ryan to the front desk with Sarah and an amazed Pete Golding in tow.

“I hope Mendenhall gets a cot next to Doc Ellenshaw, who’ll talk his ear off all night and day. That would make this whole wonderful experience complete.” He saw the colonel’s stare. “For me at least,” he added quickly.

After turning over their false passports and forged invitations to the front desk for laser scanning, the four Event Group personnel were escorted to their rooms, all on the sixteenth floor, the highest the hotel offered. Jack had requested the rooms for their excellent view of the castle and the mountain rising above. They all made plans to shower and then meet in an hour in the lobby for a tentative look-see at the property. Sarah wanted to get out to the spa area to take some readings on the hot springs and also take a sample of the mud that boiled up from somewhere beneath the hotel.