The Cup (5 page)

CHAPTER 10

Selena took the box with her when they climbed out of the hidden room. Back in the house, they sat down at a wooden table in the kitchen and waited for Forsberg's people to arrive.

Nick looked at the silver container. "What does the Latin say?"

"It says, 'The Book of Simon.'"

Selena lifted one of the scrolls from the box.

"It's still flexible. I think I can open it."

She laid it on the table. With great care, she unrolled it.

"This is written in biblical Aramaic."

Selena scanned the scroll.

"I don't believe this. If this is real..."

"Well?" Lamont said. "What does it say?"

"It's a description of the crucifixion, written by Simon of Cyrene."

Nick looked at her. "Who was Simon?"

"He's the one who helped Christ carry the cross. If this is authentic, it's an amazing find."

Forsberg said. "I'm surprised those barbarians didn't melt the box down and throw that scroll in the trash."

"They may be barbarians, but their leaders aren't stupid," Nick said. "They need money for weapons. Looted antiquities are a big source of income for them, right after oil. The black market for artifacts is huge. There are plenty of people who don't care how something was obtained. One of those little statues like Selena held up is worth thousands to a collector."

"Your man Andersson must have discovered what they were doing," Ronnie said.

Nick turned to Forsberg. "Everything points back to that refugee center. Are you going to raid it?"

Forsberg sighed. "The government is reluctant to do anything that involves Muslim immigrants. They're afraid of being criticized at the UN."

"I was them, I'd be more afraid of the terrorists," Lamont said. "Whoever hid those guns wasn't planning on hunting reindeer."

"We don't have reindeer down here," Forsberg said.

"Whatever."

"I'll have to go to the Minister with this. I can make a good case for a raid, but I can't do it without permission."

"What if you can't get it?" Nick asked.

Forsberg smiled. "Even a politician can be persuaded to do the right thing once in a while. They'll give it to me. There's an election coming up. Finding and eliminating an ISIS terror cell would look good in the papers. Not everyone in our government is afraid to do what needs to be done."

"I hear vehicles," Selena said.

Forsberg got up. Selena put scroll back in the box and took it with her as they followed him outside. Three cars and a van pulled up. A dark-haired woman wearing a red winter jacket got out of the lead vehicle.

"Wait here," Forsberg said. "I won't be long."

He walked over to the woman and began speaking with her. He pointed at the barn, then at the ditch, where the remains of the Volvo smoldered under a sullen sky.

Nick took out his phone. "I'd better call Harker."

Elizabeth picked up on the second ring.

"About time, Nick. Where are you?"

"Standing in the Swedish countryside looking at a wrecked car. It's been a busy couple of days."

He ran the events of the past forty-eight hours past her.

"The Swedes are going to raid that refugee center. I want us along."

"You think they'll have a problem with that?"

"I can't see them letting us go with them. For one thing, they won't give us weapons. They'll send in their SWAT team."

"Then let them go ahead and do the work," Elizabeth said.

"What if they miss something?"

"They're professional. KSI is small but they have a good reputation."

"Can't you pull some strings and get us on that raid?"

"What's your concern?"

"The government here is way over on the left and afraid of international opinion. The Muslim refugee issue is a mine field. Forsberg says he can get the raid approved but I'm sure that if something sensitive turns up it will be suppressed. ISIS is flooding Europe with stolen artifacts. The immigrant center is one of the distribution points and no one is monitoring them. There could be evidence inside that implicates someone in the Swedish government or identifies an important buyer, someone who's protected. If there is, I want to get a look at it."

"Mmm. It would be a big help if we could identify a buyer."

"That stuff isn't cheap. Whoever is paying for it is rich and that means he's got clout. If the buyer is Swedish, we're never going to hear about it unless we're on the scene."

"I see your point. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll see what I can do."

"Let me speak with her," Selena asked.

"Selena wants to talk to you."

Nick handed Selena the phone. "Elizabeth, we found something with the artifacts."

"Yes?"

"It looks like a lost book from the Bible, or at least part of one. I'd like to translate it before I have to give it to the Swedes. It's an incredible find. The government is sure to conceal it until they've had a chance to study it."

"And you want me to make sure you have the opportunity first?"

"Yes. I could take photographs but it will be more accurate if I have them in my hands. Can you make that happen?"

"That will be easier than getting the four of you on that raid," Elizabeth said. "With your reputation, I don't see why it should be a problem. You'd be doing them a favor."

"Wonderful. Thanks."

She handed the phone back to Nick.

Forsberg had finished speaking with his colleague. He started toward them.

"We're about to head back into town," Nick said. "Anything else, Director?"

"Play nice with the Swedes and keep a low profile."

CHAPTER 11

The raid was on, but Forsberg had been warned in no uncertain terms against creating an international incident. If there was trouble and the government needed a scapegoat, he was going to be it. He'd decided the best way to head off potential problems was with a show of force.

Nick and the others had been allowed on the raid as observers. They still had no weapons. They were not allowed to enter the center until the Swedes had secured the building.

It was three in the morning, dark and cold. The air felt raw and smelled of coming snow. Nick, Selena, Ronnie and Lamont sat in a car parked three blocks away from the center, behind two Plasan sand cats carrying the Swedish SWAT teams. The SWAT vehicles had been designed in Israel and carried eight men each. The Plasan was basically an armored box slapped onto a shortened Ford F-350 platform. It was cheap, rugged and effective.

The cold seeped into the car in spite of the heater. The windows had fogged up with condensation.

"He's going to go in there hard," Ronnie said. "Did you see those guys? They're wired to the eyeballs."

"You would be too," Lamont said, "especially if it was your first time going into action."

"You think it's their first time?"

"Most of them look like they're about eighteen," Lamont said. "They don't have the look. You know what I mean?"

"What look?" Selena asked.

"The look that comes after you've been in shit up to your ears with people trying to kill you. You never noticed it in your mirror? "

"There might not be any real trouble," Nick said. "The Swedes are carrying assault rifles. You'd have to be stupid to go against those with pipes and knives or whatever you can find lying around."

"I don't think the people in that building are the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree," Lamont said.

"There were grenades in one of those cases at the barn," Selena said.

Forsberg had given them a handheld radio. Now it crackled with final comm checks. The two SWAT vehicles would head for the front of the building. A third group was on foot, concealed on the other side of the soccer field behind the center. The plan was for all three units to converge at the same time. Nick and the others had been ordered to stay back until the all clear.

Forsberg's voice came over the radio. "All units, execute."

"Here we go," Lamont said.

The two vehicles moved out in front of them. Nick cursed at the condensation on the windshield and wiped it away, then followed behind. In less than a minute they'd arrived at the refugee center. Men in black tactical gear carrying Heckler and Koch MP5s poured out. They split into three groups and headed for the entrances.

Nick pulled up and parked. They got out of the car.

"Sure wish we had our weapons," Ronnie said.

The doors to the building were locked. Battering rams came out. It took just seconds to smash the locks. There were shouts from inside the building as the men started in.

The sound of a pistol cut through the shouting like a hot knife. There was an answering burst of automatic fire, the unforgettable signature of a three round burst from an AK-47.

"That's torn it," Lamont said.

More gunfire came from the building. Nick heard the familiar sound of the MP5s, the hard bark of a heavy pistol, then two more AKs joining in. Windows shattered in the front of the building. Rounds whistled overhead.

They ducked down behind the car. The sound of an explosion rocked the night air, then another.

"Flash bangs," Lamont said.

There was another, different explosion.

"That was a grenade," Ronnie said. "They've got their hands full in there."

Selena pointed at the end of the building. "Someone's down there." 

Three men carrying guns came around the corner and moved in a crouch toward the entrance where Forsberg had gone in. Two of them had pistols. The third cradled an AK. They weren't Swedish.

"I thought the back was covered," Ronnie said.

"Probably came out a side window," Nick said. "If they go in that door, they'll be behind Forsberg's and his team. We have to stop them."

Ronnie nodded in the direction of the building. "They don't know we're here. We can take them."

Nick tugged at the scarred earlobe on his left ear.

"Let's do it. Get their weapons."

The three men were intent on reaching the nearest entrance, twenty feet away. Nick and the others were almost on them when the man carrying the AK saw them coming. He shouted a warning, aimed the rifle at Ronnie and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He'd forgotten the safety.

Selena knocked the gun from his hands and beat him to his knees with a flurry of blows, then kicked him hard under the chin. His head snapped back with a sharp crack as his neck broke. He fell to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

Nick grabbed the second man's pistol as it came up. He wrapped his hand around the slide, grabbed the forearm with his other hand and pushed the gun and arm in opposite directions. The sudden movement twisted the gun sideways and bent the trigger finger at an impossible angle. It broke. The man screamed in pain. Nick kneed him in the groin and punched him on the back of the neck as he folded over.

The last man fired as Lamont knocked his arm away. The round went wide. Lamont head butted him and kicked him in the head after he was down.

The fight was over.

Three Swedes came out of the building, followed by Forsberg. He looked at the three men lying on the ground and the weapons lying beside them.

"What happened?"

Nick pointed. "Those three were getting ready to go in behind your guys. We stopped them."

"I wasn't going to bring you along. I'm glad I changed my mind. Thanks."

"Sounded like you had a hard time inside."

"They were waiting for us. Someone tipped them off."

He took out a cell phone and dialed, spoke briefly and hung up.

"Ambulances are on the way. Three of my men are down. At least a dozen foreigners."

"Hussein?"

"Dead." Forsberg took off his headgear and wiped away sweat. "This is a real mess."

"What about his buddy, Gabriel?"

"No sign of him."

Selena said, "Why turn this place into a war zone?"

"They're terrorists. They don't need an excuse."

"Maybe. Or there's something they didn't want you to find here."

"Besides the weapons they had? If there is anything, we'll find it. Do you read Arabic?"

"Yes."

"Come inside with me. There's something I want to show you."

"I'm gonna stay out here. I need the air," Lamont said.

"Likewise," Nick said.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

CHAPTER 12

Selena followed Forsberg into the building, past his men herding people out. He led her to set of rooms where bullets had splintered the wooden door frame and punched holes in the wall. To her right, a door opened onto a bedroom. To the left was a small kitchen. Ahead was a sitting area.

"In here," Forsberg said.

The sitting area contained a worn couch, a desk and a chair. Hussein lay on the floor on his back, his robe soaked in blood. His eyes were open. His turban was askew. A pistol lay by his outstretched hand. Papers lay scattered on the floor around him, in front of a fire blazing in a brick fireplace.

"I think he was going to burn those papers," Forsberg said.

Selena picked up a page. "This doesn't look like anything important. It's an invoice from a grocer in Ystad specializing in Arab foods. Where's Ystad?"

"It's a small town all the way down south, at the tip of the country. Warmer, down there."

"Don't they have Arab grocers in Stockholm?"

"Yes, several of them."

"What else is in Ystad?"

"It's a commercial and fishing port. There's ferry service to Poland and Latvia from there. Also Denmark. From Denmark, you can go anywhere in Europe."

She handed him the paper. "Why order from way down there if you can get the same thing nearby? I'll bet that's where they ship the antiquities out of Sweden."

Someone called to Forsberg.

"Let me know if you find anything else," he said. He left the room.

Selena turned her attention back to the papers scattered on the floor. There were several invoices for Arab foodstuffs from the same address, dated over the past year. She didn't find anything else that seemed important and decided to look around the building.

She passed an open door and stepped through into an apartment. No one was there. A framed picture on a side table showed the translator, Gabriel, and a woman wearing a Hijab. They stood in a city square bordered by pockmarked and shattered buildings, signs of heavy fighting. Behind Gabriel was a shop sign with a name written on it in Arabic. The picture had been taken in Mosul.

Iraq,
she thought.
Gabriel is from Iraq. Hussein probably was as well. Where is Gabriel, I wonder?

She opened a dresser drawer and rummaged through it. She found a cell phone stuffed under children's clothes, where someone had tried to hide it. It was a throwaway. She put it in her pocket. Nick could decide what to do with it. After poking around a while longer, she went back outside.

Several police cars had arrived. With Forsberg's men, the cops moved the occupants of the refugee asylum into groups. They stood shivering in the cold, surrounded by hostile stares. Guns were pointed at them. No one smiled.

Selena took Nick to the side and showed him the phone. "This was in Gabriel's room. Should I give it to Forsberg?"

"Let's find out what's on it first. I'll take it."

She handed him the phone. Nick dialed Virginia. Elizabeth answered.

"What is it Nick?"

"The raid went south. There was a jihadist cell inside the center, armed to the teeth. They opened up on the Swedes."

"Why did they start shooting?"

"That's what everybody wants to know. Forsberg thinks they were tipped off. Selena thinks they were hiding something. That might be, but I think they're mostly just stupid jihadists who thought this was their opportunity to meet Allah. Forsberg and his people are going over the building with a fine tooth comb."

"Will they tell you if they find something we need to know about?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I thought I might improvise a little, just in case they don't. I have something for Stephanie. Can you put her on?"

"Wait one."

Stephanie Willits came online. Steph was a critical cog in the complex machine of Project operations. There wasn't much she couldn't do with a computer or a piece of communications gear. Satellite communications was one of her specialties. She'd helped Nick and the others out of a bad situation in the field more than once.

"What's up, Nick? Elizabeth says you guys ran into serious trouble."

"We did, but it's over now. I have a phone in my hand. I want to send you whatever is on it."

"Give me a minute," Steph said.

Nick waited while she set up the transfer.

"Okay, go ahead."

Nick plugged the cell into his satellite unit, turned on Gabriel's phone and pressed a sequence of keys. Thirty seconds later the file transfer was complete.

Stephanie said, "Got it."

"This phone belonged to one of the jihadists. He’s missing and he may have been second in command. These guys were selling looted artifacts on the black market. If something indicates Swedish involvement, Stockholm will cover it up."

"You want me to look for whatever I can find, right?"

"Yup."

"I'll have to run everything through a translation program, unless the conversations are in English. It will take time."

"Whatever it takes," Nick said. "Thanks, Steph."

Nick broke the connection.

"Let's see what comes out of that." He looked around. "We're done here. I'll tell Forsberg we're leaving."

He went over to where Forsberg stood talking with one of his men.

"Selena found this in Gabriel's room." He handed the phone over.

"What's on it?"

"I don't have any idea," Nick said.

Forsberg pocketed the phone. "We'll take care of it from here."

He looked at Selena. "I've been told to let you keep those scrolls for now, while you translate them."

"Wonderful. It shouldn't take more than a few days."

"You must have some serious pull. Make sure nothing happens to them. Nick, I'll call you at the hotel later."

"Yeah," Nick said.