The Grecian Manifesto (19 page)

Chapter 36

Corfu, Greece

The javelin zipped through the
air in a perfect line, arching high through the sky and striking the target
almost dead center. Dimitris stood in a field of tall, golden grass. The
coastal breeze waved the blades back and forth in constant motion. The effect
the wind had on Gikas’s throw was minimal.

He’d taken to throwing javelins
two decades before. While he didn’t have the strength to compete at an
international level, his accuracy was second to none. The target, a hay bale
with a four-foot diameter, was nearly thirty yards away, a distance that would
challenge the accuracy of the best of throwers.

“Do you know why I enjoy the
javelin?” Gikas asked, turning to Thanos.

“No,” his trusted assistant
said. He didn’t seem to care what the answer was. The sun had only been up for
half an hour. For as long as he’d worked for Gikas, he never did understand the
man’s early morning rituals. Today was the first time he’d witnessed the
javelin target practice.

Thanos and his men had been
called back to Corfu upon giving Gikas the news that the map leading them to
Ostia had been a ruse. They had returned to the home of Vincenzo Cagliari, but
the place was swarming with police. Why, Thanos couldn’t be certain, but there
was no way they could get inside. Had the old man contacted the authorities?
Didn’t matter. There wasn’t time to sit around and lay siege to the retired professor’s
home, waiting for the police to leave. Instead, they’d taken Gikas’s plane back
to Greece that night.

Gikas strode back to a rack
where several other javelins hung in place. “I love the javelin throw for a few
reasons. One, it is a direct lineage to my country’s heritage. We invented the
sport. It’s been a part of the Olympic Games since they began.”

“The other?” Thanos asked with
an air of disinterest.

“It’s precise. Granted, in the
Olympics, you are trying for distance over hitting a target, like the one out
there,” he said, pointing to the bale of hay. “But even with the distance
event, the thrower must be perfectly balanced. They must keep the shaft of the
javelin at just the right angle. Their approach must be light, yet swift. The
body becomes a symphony in motion before launching the spear into flight.”

“I suppose so.”

Gikas turned to one of Thanos’s
men, named Teo Bourdon. “What about you, Teo? Have you ever tried javelin?”

Bourdon had been a soldier in
Bosnia during the war that had ravaged the Balkans after the fall of communism.
When the war ended, his exploits and reputation had travelled far. When Thanos
had heard about him, he knew Bourdon would make an excellent addition to his
unit under the service of Dimitris.

Teo had made more money than he
could have hoped to in the mercenary free market, which was a considerable
amount. Warriors like him went for a premium, often serving private security
companies in hostile areas. The Middle East bloomed with such killers. He’d
decided to join up with Thanos, having heard of the bald man’s seedy reputation
from a few odd jobs he picked up along the way. One thing Teo had always
appreciated was knowing a situation before going into it. With the current
arrangement, he knew he most definitely could not trust a single person who
worked for Dimitris, including Gikas himself. That fact gave Bourdon a little
comfort in that it kept him constantly focused, ever aware that one of the
people nearest him could turn their back on him without provocation. Even now
he watched Gikas closely as his primary employer circled the rack of javelins
like a hawk circling an unsuspecting rabbit.

“No, sir,” Bourdon answered. “I
have not, but I am always willing to learn new things.”

Gikas stared at him for a
moment, impressed with the man’s demeanor and level of respect. “I like that
answer. We are constantly learning new things in this world. Those who are
unwilling to adapt and change will be left in the dust, crushed by the whims of
fate.”

“Indeed.”

He motioned for Bourdon to
follow him. “May I have a moment with your assistant?” Gikas asked Thanos.

“He works for you.”

Gikas gave a quick nod and a
smile. “Come, Teo. You would be surprised at how far the javelin penetrates
into the target,” he said as the two walked away from the throwing area. “The
tip is very sharp, and when thrown properly carries a great deal of force with
it.”

The two men reached the target,
and Gikas bent down to show Bourdon how far the spear’s point had stuck into
the hay bale. “Imagine what it would do to a human,” he said nonchalantly.

“One of those to the chest or
stomach would mean almost certain death.”

“Essentially.” Gikas stood up
straight again and put his hands on his hips. He gazed out across the field,
surveying his property. His eyes passed over Thanos, who stood with his back to
them. He held a cell phone to his ear, busily talking to someone. Gikas reached
down and yanked the javelin out of the target. He stared at the shiny object
for a moment, admiring the fine craftsmanship that had gone into its creation.

“It really is an elegant
weapon, don’t you think?”

“That’s a good way of putting
it,” Bourdon agreed.

Gikas set the base of the shaft
on the ground for a moment, holding it upright next to him. “Sometimes, it’s
good to hold on to the old ways. Like with this javelin. It’s important to
remember that old things can still be of service to us.”

Bourdon nodded, though he hid
his confusion. He wasn’t sure where the wealthy Greek was going with his line
of thought.

“Of course, sometimes we have
to let old things go, especially when they have worn out their usefulness. You
won’t find a rotary telephone outside of a museum. When a new television comes
out, you get rid of the old and replace it with the new one.” Gikas waited for
a moment. “It’s particularly crucial to get rid of things when they no longer
work. If you had an old television set that stopped working, you would need to
get a new one whether you wanted to or not.”

“I suppose so.”

Gikas nodded, looking in the
direction of his head man. In a quick movement, he jerked up the javelin and
turned his body toward Thanos. In three short steps, the shaft soared through
the air. It only took a second to reach its target. The tip of the javelin sunk
deep into Thanos’s back and ripped through his ribcage, protruding out of his
chest. For a second, the bald man wavered. The cell phone fell from his hand
onto the ground as he reached down with both hands to clasp the spear. He
staggered around for a few seconds, spinning in a circle. His face was awash
with confusion and anguish as he peered into his boss’s eyes one last time.
Then Thanos slumped over in the grass, his body concealed from view by the
tall, waving blades.

Teo said nothing, nor did he
appear shocked by the sudden murder of the man who’d brought him onboard with
the Gikas operation. He simply stared stoically at the spot where Thanos had
collapsed.

“He served me well for many
years, Teo. But even someone who has been loyal to me as long as Thanos has can
wear out their usefulness. Just like the television that doesn’t work anymore,
he had to be replaced.” Gikas turned back to the mercenary. “You’re in charge
now, Teo. I do not want you to live in fear that any failure will result in
your death. Failing is how we learn, it’s how we grow and adapt to the things
that life throws at us.”

Bourdon lowered his eyebrows.
“This isn’t about losing Wyatt and any connection to the map?”

Gikas waved a finger in the
air. “Oh, it most certainly is about that. Failure can be acceptable. But when
the failure is so huge that it is difficult to repair, that becomes a different
issue completely.”

“I see.”

“So, do not fail me the way
Thanos did, and you will be fine.” He put his hand on Teo’s shoulder.

“Understood, sir. Failure is
never an option for me. Especially big failures.” Teo’s face hardened with
determination. “What would you have me do first?”

“Have the men toss Thanos into
the sea. After that, get something to eat. I understand I brought the two of
you out here before you had a chance to get breakfast.” The stark contrast
between the cold murderer and the caring, sympathetic man speaking at the
moment wasn’t lost on Teo. He kept his observations to himself, however. “When
you’ve finished eating, come to my study. We will need to find a way to learn
of Sean Wyatt’s whereabouts and track him down before it is too late.”

Teo’s mind ran with questions.
He asked the first one that came to mind. “What would Wyatt want with the
device you seek?”

Gikas threw his hands up in the
air. “I’m not sure. He’s a treasure hunter. For several years he worked for the
International Archaeological Agency, which is really just a front for pilfering
the treasures of the ancient world.”

“I’d think you would admire
that part,” Bourdon tested his boss’s demeanor.

For a second, Gikas thought
about the comment, and then let out a thunderous laugh. “You’re right. I do
admire them for that!” His voice continued to boom across the meadow for half a
minute. When he finally let the moment pass, Gikas continued speaking. “I have
to assume that he is trying to find the Eye of Zeus because he believes if he
finds it he will find his woman, the Spaniard.”

“Ah,” Bourdon gave a nod. “That
makes sense.”

“But Wyatt is not one with whom
you should meddle. He is quite dangerous.” Gikas held up a warning finger.

Bourdon crossed his arms,
contemplating what his employer had said. “I know about Wyatt. In his previous
life he worked for a United States government agency called Axis. I read his
dossier after being brought on the job by Thanos. His exploits are fairly
remarkable, but I am confident he is more lucky than anything else.”

“Oh?”

“Wyatt finds himself in sticky
situations quite often. I personally observed his escape from the train
station. In any other spot, we would have had the drop on him and killed him
before he could do anything. Unfortunately, we were in a train station. Next
time, he won’t be so lucky.”

Gikas nodded. “Good. I like
your optimism. See to it that he is not.”

“As to our meeting and
determining what we should do next, sir, I have a man in Rome that can be at
Wyatt’s hotel room within the next thirty minutes. Wyatt and his companion left
most of their belongings in that room. At some point they will have to return
to get them.”

“They will be wary of watchful
eyes, Teo,” Gikas said, doubtful.

“Certainly they will. But my
man will remain unseen, and he is an expert at surveillance. Wherever Wyatt
goes, we will know.”

“Excellent,” Gikas said patting
the younger man on the back again. “I already can see I have made a good choice
with you.”

Chapter 37

Rome, Italy

Paulino pressed the end button
on his cell phone. His highest-paying client had just called him from somewhere
on the Greek island of Corfu. Teo hadn’t needed to tell him where he was.
Paulino knew within twenty seconds of receiving the call. The homemade tracing
software had been downloaded onto his mobile device so he could use it from
anywhere in the world that had a cell or Wi-Fi signal. At some point, he
planned to link the phone to a network of satellites, thus creating a more
powerful platform to find anyone who called him, from anywhere, regardless of
signal strength. He sat back in his black mesh desk chair and put his hands
behind his neck, stretching out his muscles. He needed a break after staring at
his four computer screens for the last nine hours. His machines had been
running hard all day, downloading information at an incredible rate and maxing
out the bandwidth normally available to an entire city block. A wry grin snuck
onto his stubbled, muscular face as Paulino considered all the angry people in
his building, frustrated by the fact that they couldn’t get on their beloved
social media networks.

It had been a simple enough
trick to build the bypass into the system and redirect the bandwidth directly
to his apartment. He’d cleverly made the setup impossible to track, sending a
fake signal through the fiber optic network all over the city. At the moment,
the decoy signals were telling the local Internet providers that someone in the
Vatican was using up the bandwidth. It was one of his prouder ruses. Paulino
doubted the Internet company would even make the phone call to question as to
why it was happening. Eventually they would, but by then he’d have already set
up another decoy.

The first time Paulino had
tried the trick, the authorities nearly nabbed him, figuring out that there was
no way an orphanage was using the Internet that much. The nuns must have been
beyond confused at the accusations. Paulino allowed himself a short laugh at
the thought.

Most of the time, his software
hacked its way through people’s accounts, bringing in a whopping quarter
million in euros every single year. He stole enough to live comfortably, but
never so much that he would get caught. Of course, like any intelligent
businessman, he liked to diversify his sources of income. Black market
surveillance with a sprinkle of murder always paid well. On top of that, it
kept him from getting bored. Sitting in front of the computer for hours on end took
its toll on his interest level. Getting out and killing someone every now and
then did wonders for his energy.

The call from one of his
regulars had been an extremely profitable one. Over the course of the next few
hours, he was going to make a lot of money, more than he would make in the next
three months combined.

Teo had always been generous
with his payments. As a result, their relationship had been a good one. Bourdon
paid; Paulino delivered. It was simple enough. And Bourdon never asked what
Paulino’s last name was, or even if it was his real name. He didn’t care as
long as the job was done, which it always was.

“So you want me to kill them
both?” he’d asked Bourdon during the phone conversation.

“No. Not this time. I need them
alive. They have something my employer wants very badly. You have to make
certain that this piece is not damaged in any way.”

Based on the previous
assignments Bourdon had given, it was an odd request, but no killing might make
it easier this time around, though less interesting. “What does this object
look like?”

“We don’t know.”

Paulino let out a short laugh.
He crossed one leg over the other and rested his elbow on top of his knee.
“Then how will I know what not to damage?”

“Just follow them, Paulino.
This is a watch-and-follow job. You won’t need to do anything except tell us
where the marks are going. We will take care of the rest.”

That did sound boring.

Before the Italian could
protest, Bourdon added another bit of information. “You may have to sneak onto
their private plane. It’s parked at the airport right now, but if they decide
to go somewhere, you’ll need to go as well.”

The last part caused Paulino to
frown. “That could add significantly to my costs. What happens if these marks
fly to India or South America?”

“They won’t. Our hunch is that
they will stay in the Mediterranean area.”

“And what gives you that
hunch?” Paulino asked suspiciously.

 
“Because the artifact they are looking for is hidden
somewhere in that vicinity.”

Paulino had thought silently
for a few seconds before making an offer. “I’ll do it for twenty-five thousand,
but it’s only that much because I could end up in the middle of nowhere.”

Bourdon didn’t respond
immediately to the proposal. The Italian thought that maybe the amount had come
off as greedy. With all the different unknowns in play, though, he considered
it a fair amount. If his client wanted to pay less, he would simply turn it
down.

“Sorry, old friend. I don’t
think you understand who I am working with.” Before Paulino could decline the
job, Bourdon continued talking. “You’ll receive a hundred for this one.”

The Italian’s eyes grew wide.
Had he heard right? A hundred thousand euros for a watch-and-follow job? “When
do I start?”

“Right now. The two men are
staying at a hotel in the city. They’ll be heading back there now. Their names
are Thomas Schultz and Sean Wyatt. Wyatt is a former American agent, so he will
be on the lookout for anyone suspicious. We received word this morning that two
of my employer’s paid associates were found handcuffed and beaten in a park in
the mountains.”

Paulino nodded. “Understood.
Blend in. Stay back…” He stopped and thought for a moment. “Wait, how am I
supposed to get on a private plane with these guys if I have to keep my
distance?”

“That’s why I pay you. I’m
sending you the address right now, along with some images of the marks. I
expect to hear from you soon.”

The text message had come
through almost immediately after Bourdon had ended the conversation. Paulino
intensely examined the images of the two men. They would be easy enough to
find. He looked at the address and the name of the hotel. Bourdon had even
provided the room numbers. He could be there in under twenty minutes, depending
on the traffic.

Paulino checked his watch. It
seemed like most people didn’t wear watches anymore, electing instead to simply
check the time on their phones or tablets. It was one of the few old-fashioned
things he clung to in a life that had become deeply embedded in the digital
age. Local time was still early. Even though he’d been working through the dark
hours of the morning, Paulino wasn’t about to let a hundred grand get away from
him. He got up out of his chair and wandered through the clutter to the
refrigerator, tucked away in the corner of his tiny kitchen. It contained only
a carton of milk, a few bottles 0f Peroni beer, a box of takeout from two days
ago, and ten energy drinks. He pulled out one of the cans and popped it open,
guzzling half of the contents in a matter of seconds. He lowered the can and
sighed with relief.

The men he was to follow would
probably be getting up soon. He would need to hurry.

Paulino stepped over to the
round nook table at the edge of his kitchen. It was littered with wires,
motherboards, compact discs, papers, and a cigar box. He picked up the box and
set it closer to where he was standing. Opening it, he fingered through several
passports, driver’s licenses, and six thick stacks of euros. In his business,
having other identities was of the utmost importance. While most people working
in the underworld had a fake ID or two, few of them went the extra mile to
create backstories for each one.

He selected a passport from
Slovenia, flipped it open, and stared at the image. For this one he’d decided
to be an advertising agent. He had business cards to go with the name and had
even created a website, social media profiles, and outsourced online content to
make his identity seem more like a real person. If any security pulled him in
for questioning, say, in an airport, he could prove who he was and what he did
beyond simply providing them with a fake passport.

Details were high on Paulino’s
priority list. It was how he’d evaded trouble with the authorities all along.

He slid the passport into his
back pocket and a wad of the money into a front pocket. If he was going to play
the part of a high-end executive, he’d need to put on a different shirt,
probably something with a tie.

A few minutes later, Paulino
looked like a completely different person. He’d thrown on a white button-up shirt
with a black tie and matching black jacket that went with his designer jeans.
The fake, wire-frame glasses added to the imagery of a young, wealthy
executive. On his way out the door, he picked up the Walther .22 pistol off the
table, along with the sound suppressor lying next to it. Even though it was an
observational mission, Paulino preferred to always be prepared.