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Authors: David Lynn Golemon

Carpathian (45 page)

BOOK: Carpathian
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He and Sarah had been studying the man’s dossier for the past two hours trying to find a common thread with any of the names of Jack’s security watch list for antiquities theft. Thus far they had discovered several very familiar faces in the milling crowds of gamblers and revelers. As the couple roamed the grounds freely they did spy several of Dmitri’s henchmen keeping a close eye on them.

As they strolled along the mud baths and steam rooms of the atrium they saw men and women used to the decadent way of life soaking in the hot mud and natural steam baths of the mountain. Zallas was placing no mind to the cost of this expensive weekend as every guest seemed to be attended by one or more of the hotel staff. They were approached no fewer than three times and offered drinks, towels, robes, and any other accouterment that comes along with the filthy rich and pampered in the short time they walked through the beautiful spa area.

“Do you think we could talk Niles into building one of these for the complex?” Sarah jokingly asked as she dipped her head at a rather large and bulbous-looking man with a beard as he slowly sank into the mud with an appreciative glance toward Sarah. Then as she watched the man’s face became a scowl as he quickly rose from the mud complaining about the excessive heat.

“You bet. I’m sure he can scrape together the extra $45 million in the budget somewhere.”

Sarah smiled and then just as quickly lost it when she saw Zallas with his ever-present group of men and women around him approach with a wide smile. Jack’s worst fears about a blown cover came readily to her mind.

“Tell me my friends, are you enjoying your stay at the Edge of the World?” he said with a smile that said he just ate the cat that ate the canary and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.

Jack and Sarah both knew the sole purpose of this little run-in was for Zallas to gauge who he was dealing with when it came to Americans. The colonel knew Zallas suspected, but for right now that was just about all. He would play his little hand to the end.

“One of the more hospitable resorts I have ever been to,” Jack said, even though he had never been to a resort in his life. “And also one of the more gracious hosts I have ever encountered.”

Zallas tilted his head and laughed as he held out his hand to Jack.

“I don’t believe I have had the pleasure, Mr.—?”

Collins, as did Sarah, studied the man’s demeanor and they both knew at that exact moment that their fears were not unfounded. Zallas, while he may not know just who they were, suspected they could be some sort of law enforcement, and he was gauging the two to see what steps he would need to take to make sure his interest was protected.

“Collins, Jack Collins, Colonel, United States Army, and this is Lieutenant Sarah McIntire of the same organization.”

Zallas had a hard time not showing his surprise as he quickly and deftly bypassed Jack’s offered hand and instead took Sarah’s and harshly kissed it, making Sarah wince at the wetness of the action. Between Zallas kissing her hand and the utter shock she was feeling after Jack had suddenly blurted out exactly who they were, Sarah was flustered enough that she froze after Zallas kissed her hand and then finally reached for Jack’s.

“Now this
is
surprising. How does a soldier, and one so beautiful,” he said, shaking the colonel’s hand and then quickly looking at Sarah in her expensive pantsuit that no longer fit the cover they had blown, “find their way to my resort?”

“That’s easy enough, uh, Mr. Zallas is it?” Jack asked.

The Russian stepped back and smiled. He nodded his head and then fixed Collins with a look that bordered on distaste.

“Yes, Dmitri Zallas, I am the owner of the Edge of the World.”

“As I said, Mr. Zallas, there is a simple enough explanation. We were assigned to the NATO forces and had some time off. By a fluke we decided, what the hell, let’s see if we can get a reservation, and here we are. I admit to using absconded invitations but they can only kick us out, right?”

“Yes, but kick out is harsh term. I’m sure we could come up with something better than that.” Jack heard the veiled threat buried in the comment. “Strange though that our reservations center isn’t in operation yet and all of my guests and business acquaintances were all informed of the pre–grand opening by courier.”

“If that’s the strangest thing you run into all weekend, I’d call that pretty good,” Jack said as he returned the stare of Zallas.

The Russian raised a hand and gestured toward someone Jack couldn’t see. Soon enough Gina Louvinski strode up to the group.

“Yes, Mr. Zallas,” she said, nodding her head at Jack and Sarah, wishing they would have stayed clear of the mobster.

“This is our resort’s general manager, Ms. Louvinski,” Zallas said.

Jack and Sarah knew that the Russian had obviously been informed that they had exchanged words early this morning with Ryan and Pete in attendance.

“Yes, we met Ms. Louvinski this morning before breakfast.”

“Ms. Louvinski will make sure your time at my resort is an enjoyable one. Gina, please make sure the colonel and the lieutenant have passes for the show tomorrow night at Dracula’s Castle. Make sure their table is close to mine,” he said smiling as his eyes went to Collins. “Shall we also make arrangement for your two companions to join the fun?” he asked in almost passable English.

“The more the merrier,” Sarah said as Collins and Zallas continued to face off. Both men were smiling but neither was showing any mirth in their eyes. Finally Jack held out his hand to the Russian.

“My thoughts exactly,” Zallas said as he quickly brushed Jack’s hand with his own and then nodded his good-bye as he took Gina by the arm and he and his entourage moved away. Gina nodded her head at Jack and Sarah as she was pulled out.

Collins and McIntire watched the group leave. Zallas looked as if he wanted to kill the general manager right there in the spa. She was shaking her head and Jack knew the woman might pay for their subterfuge. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Zallas exactly who they were, that could only mean trouble for the Romanian woman.

“Jack, if I may ask, have you gone totally insane?” Sarah lost all pretense of being his subordinate and turned on him. “‘I’m Colonel Jack Collins and this is Lieutenant So-and-So of the United States Army.’ I ask again, have you lost your mind?”

“Look, he knows we are not his friends, and he knows we don’t do business with him, so it would have been foolish to keep up the facade. That man knows bad people and he would have seen us coming from five miles away. He knows for a fact that Ryan and Pete are with us, so why lie? If he was that worried about us he would do something about it. Since he didn’t we have bought some time while he tries to figure out what to do about us. Just maybe being that he’s Russian he would be hesitant about killing any NATO representatives.”

Sarah rolled her eyes at the colonel, letting him know in no uncertain terms what she thought of his exercise.

“Have you considered that maybe that man is just a nutcase and would order us killed anyway, just because he didn’t like or trust us? What makes you think he had the sophistication to think beyond the fact that some people tried to penetrate his security and did? And do you think he’s smart enough to order us buried someplace up there?” She gestured toward the mountain.

“That’s what I’m banking on.”

“He’s not Henri Farbeaux, Jack, this man has not one ounce of honor, he reacts, he doesn’t think.”

“Well, I hope you’re wrong.”

*   *   *

Zallas stopped admonishing Gina about the reservations deceit Collins had just told him about and then pushed her away to see to the guests.

“Those two, and their two companions?”

“Yes, Mr. Zallas?” the largest of the five bodyguards asked.

“They are never to leave this valley. U.S. Army my ass. If they’re not Interpol or American CIA, or FBI I will give Janos Vajic the deed to this resort.”

“Sir?”

“I want all four of their heads, hands, and teeth removed, and then buried amongst the rocks where the crows can’t even find them.”

*   *   *

Pete Golding and Jason Ryan were just two of the twenty guests of the resort who stood looking up at the majestic sight. The cable car wasn’t even a quarter full and that left plenty of viewing space for the men and women as they gasped at the setting high above them at Dracula’s Castle. While Pete marveled at the modern architectural materials used to create the illusion of age and strength and noting that the castle was something to behold, Jason was trying to figure out just how many of the men and women inside the car were actually there to view the castle, or who was there to keep their eyes on him and Pete. Thus far he had counted at least two of them as Zallas’s people. They just weren’t quick enough to look away when Jason turned toward them several times.

“Do you think the captain and Charlie came up here?” Pete asked.

“It’s a place to start.”

As the cable car rose to its optimal height on its way up the mountain, a hidden speaker system kept the guests informed as they studied the design of the castle. It was a recording by a very familiar Hollywood actor who seemed to narrate anything that came down the pike these days and it surprised Pete and Jason very much to hear his voice explaining the Vlad Tepes legend and the cross-reference to the Dracula tale, and all of this was done in English, Romanian, and French. As the castle grew larger the words of the narrator was starting to have its effect. As the voice explained why Vlad was deemed insane Jason and Pete felt the history of this mountain come alive.

The car climbed and Jason jabbed Pete on the side as he gestured out the window and down. Far below on the wide road parallel to the castle and winding upward to the pass high above, they saw a long line of over a hundred vehicles of every make and description. Jason nodded his head and suggested Pete look in the center of the long column. Pete nodded when he recognized the two Humvees that stood out like new cars at a wrecking yard.

“Well, at least someone is sticking to some form of the plan we had going in.”

Pete looked at Jason and nodded just as the car approached the large platform where the passengers would be discharged. There was a mild bump as the car gained the platform, which was built to look like large embedded stones and thick, fire-hardened wood. There were wrought iron torches lining the wall, and while they were gas fed and burned brightly, it was still an adequate effect. Pete was impressed. Jason was not as he saw the two men who had been eyeing them step off the car with the rest.

Ryan and Golding stepped from the car and watched as the two men hesitated and then when they knew they couldn’t stay behind the crowd without being noticed, moved off with the oohing and awing men and women as they examined the lobby of the giant nightclub.

The interior was done like a Hollywood movie set and even Ryan had to gasp at the decor. It was something right out of a Bram Stoker novel. The expense shown in decoration alone proved to Pete and Ryan once and for all that this place required inordinate amounts of cash.

The stage was enormous and rivaled anything seen in Las Vegas. A trapdoor system built along the lines of a Broadway stage for raising and lowering musical sets was in operation as they watched the final touches being put in place for the big grand opening tomorrow night.

“You would think this would be the place you would want to see in operation until you realize the possibility that stolen antiquities may have been the financing plan behind it.”

Ryan had to agree with Pete. This was a wad of money and to come up with that inside a country that was still trying to see if it was viable after the collapse of communism was nearly impossible. Not many banks are willing to loan money when their people are in danger of having no heating oil for the hard winters here. No, bad money was here and on display.

“Wow, I saw his show in Las Vegas!” Pete said as he walked up to the large cardboard cutout of Drake Andrews as he stood clad in a garish purple tuxedo and was crooning to an audience that rarely came to see his shows in the desert any longer.

Pete gave the cardboard cutout one last hug across the shoulders just as if he were a tourist getting his photo snapped with the legendary entertainer. He smiled at Ryan, who only stared at Golding.

“Sorry, it’s just that I’m like an oldies nut.”

“Believe me, between you, Doc Ellenshaw, and the colonel I can never take music seriously again.”

Pete shrugged his shoulders. “Where to now? I don’t see either the captain or Charlie.”

Ryan took a breath and looked around the large nightclub. He shook his head. “Yeah, this was a waste of time,” he looked back at Pete, “but at least we found out Drake Andrews will be here. Come on, we may have better luck outside,” Ryan said, making fun of Pete’s man-crush on the entertainer.

“Well, he used to be big.”

As Pete and Ryan turned to find an exit that led out onto the mountain, the two Zallas men followed them, brushing by the life-sized cardboard cutout of Drake Andrews, spinning it, and then knocking it to the floor where several men and women inadvertently stepped on it.

OTOPENI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, BUCHAREST, ROMANIA

The Russian-made Mi-26 Halo is a twin-turbine heavy-lift helicopter. It is the world’s largest production helicopter and was a source of worry for NATO planners for years before the ancient helicopters fell into old age and disrepair and were shipped off to Russia’s satellite nations just before the collapse of the Soviet Union. The amount of equipment and personnel it could transport is still a source of pride among its builders and designers. As it sat on the tarmac waiting for the last of the equipment and passengers to be loaded, the heavy engines vibrated and shook the old airframe as if it were in a blender.

As he sat in his seat toward the rear of the old aircraft, American singer Drake Andrews glanced over to his agent, who sat staring straight ahead, afraid to move as the ancient Russian helicopter shook, rattled, and rolled as it idled.

“Remind me to kill you when we get back to Vegas in fourteen months,” Andrews said as one of the turbine engines actually backfired, making both men in their expensive clothes jump and yelp.

BOOK: Carpathian
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