Read The Schliemann Legacy Online
Authors: D.A. Graystone
Tags: #Espionage, #Revenge, #Terrorism, #Terrorists, #Holocaust, #Greek, #Treasure Hunt, #troy, #nazi art theft, #mossad, #holocaust survivor, #treasure, #terrorism plot, #nazi death camps, #nazi crimes, #schliemann, #nazi loot, #terrorism attacks holocaust
"The game ends when I declare a winner," Henri said. "I have not seen a winner. You are certain Duman is on his way to Jamaica?"
"They should be on the island, shortly," Martin assured him.
Mardinaud shook his head. "I don't want it to end this way," he sighed. "I pictured a much stronger ending. How could Morritt have allowed Duman and the treasure to get away?"
"I doubt either held much fascination for him compared to Heiden. I don't see what can be done about it. We must accept certain disappointments." Martin was completely satisfied; he knew that the play was not over for Duman.
Henri threw himself forward on the couch. "Nothing to be done?" he exclaimed. "There is always something to be done. Sit your little defeatist derrière down in front of that computer screen and I'll show you what can be done."
Martin did as he was told, calling on the immense database in anticipation of his employer's request. "What am I looking for?" he asked.
Mardinaud put his plump fingertips together and answered slowly. "A Jew. I need a Jew in Bogotá. Someone who knows either David Morritt or Assi Levy. Someone they would trust. We will send our Israeli a message. If Morritt cannot find Duman on his own, we will supply him with a map."
Martin worked on the computer for exactly 63 seconds, then turned to Mardinaud. "Max Bokman. He and Assi Levy have a long history. Assi would trust him with his life."
"And, therefore, so will Morritt. Contact Bokman and have him pass on a message to the Jew. Give him all the information he needs to find Duman."
Martin made several notes on his pad. "A dangerous game," he said. "Duman will not like this."
"I told you before, don't let Duman concern you. I can handle him."
Martin was surprised at Mardinaud's tone. For one of the first times, he suspected his boss was unsure of himself. He knew Mardinaud was thinking of the unknown player in the game. The fat information broker had worked for hours to discover the mysterious force intruding on his little game. But he had discovered nothing because there was nothing to discover - at least where Mardinaud was looking. He sought a connection with Heiden while the link was elsewhere. And the frustration was beginning to show. He would never admit the frustration he was feeling at not knowing but the unknown was the only thing Mardinaud truly feared. And how fearful should Martin be if Mardinaud discovered the truth? Martin tried to shake off his own fear and focused on Mardinaud again.
"Tell me what is wrong with this plan?"
"I beg your pardon, Monsieur?"
"What is wrong with this plan?" Mardinaud repeated. "Why is it destined to fail?"
Martin shrugged and the fat man made a sound of disgust. "Because Morritt is not as stupid as you," he explained. "Morritt will suspect a trap as soon as Bokman contacts him."
"Bokman would never betray him."
"No," Henri said patiently. "Try your best to keep up with me. Morritt will suspect the
information
. He will not go to Jamaica just because Bokman delivers the message. Morritt is too smart to walk into a trap. He needs motivation."
"Motivation?"
Henri motioned him back to the keyboard. "Who do we know in the opposition in Israel? Someone who would like to see the end of Assi Levy."
"The list is quite long," Martin said after a few seconds. "Oslin is at the top."
"Yes," Mardinaud replied, considering the name. "Yes, he will do."
"I will see to the calls and insure all is in place," said Martin.
Including my own surprise
, Martin thought.
This close, I must start considering how I will hide the money.
Chapter 30 - THE MESSAGE
"We may have a problem," David said, stepping into the car.
"What does that mean?" Katrina asked from behind the wheel. The small dome light revealed dark circles under her eyes and dirt smudges on her cheeks. It was already past six o'clock in the morning and her face was worn with fatigue.
After leaving Heiden's compound, they had worked their way through the dark jungle. It had taken nearly seven hours to retrace their steps back to the village and their waiting plane. Neither had slept during the short flight to Bogotá although both were exhausted. David fought the memories of the camp and Katrina brooded over the loss of the treasure.
So much had happened in the last twelve hours. Now David wondered if it was all beginning again.
"What did they say?" Katrina asked when he hesitated. "Did you get through to Assi? Are they going after the rest of Heiden's collection?"
David pulled the car door shut. "I'm not sure. Something isn't right. I can't reach Assi. An old friend of his will meet us at a café near here. We can trust him. Besides, I could use a strong cup of coffee."
"I'm all for that," Katrina sighed.
She followed David's directions and soon pulled the car to the curb behind a long, gray limousine. A uniformed driver lounged against the front fender. He barely seemed to notice them, but David knew better. The expert eyes of the ex commando had identified and cleared them.
The owner of the café glowered at them as they entered. David ignored him and led Katrina to a booth in the back where a plump man dressed in a light coat and open necked shirt smiled and stood. A look of concern replaced his smile as he silently grasped David's hand and pulled him close. David returned the embrace before following Katrina into the booth.
The man motioned to the café owner for two more coffees and sat down.
"David, it's good to see you," he said. "Are you all right?"
"Fine, Max. This is Katrina Kontoravdis. Katrina, this is Max Bokman."
"Very pleased to meet you, Miss Kontoravdis." Bokman briefly shook Katrina's hand and turned back to David before she could reply. "You've had a bad time?"
"We survived," David said. "What's happening? Why can't I reach Assi?"
"You might be in a better position to tell me. I had a call at three this morning. The caller told me you were in Colombia and stirring up hell."
"Who called?"
Bokman shook his head. "I have no idea. They just told me that you had started an international incident and said I should contact Assi."
"International incident?" David said slowly. Whoever he was, the caller knew about Bokman's past association with Levy. Access to that type of information pointed to one man.
"Mardinaud," David muttered. He looked up at Bokman. "I couldn't reach Assi," he said.
"So you said. My conversation with him was very short. He's in trouble, David. Political trouble."
"Because of me?"
"Precisely. What did you do?"
David recognized a tone of disapproval in Bokman's voice and briefly recounted the events of the past few days. Max was silent, but nodded occasionally. At the end of the tale, he cursed.
"Everything is happening too fast," he said. "The machinery doesn't operate that quickly in this country. An official protest lodged overnight? From what Assi told me, word reached Oslin just after the attack. You know Assi's position was tenuous. Too many are out to get him."
David remembered his own conversation with Assi. The Mossad director's enemies would pounce on this new scandal. "He didn't resign, did he?"
"They didn't give him the option. He had to step down while they investigate the Colombian government's claims. I was talking to him when Shamir called for him. Assi's personal network is still in place and they got my message to you. They're protecting him, for now. God knows how long that will last."
David stared at Bokman. "This could finish Assi. When they connect him to Heiden, they'll crucify him."
"You're in danger as well. You'll be arrested on sight if you stay in Colombia."
"Mardinaud," David repeated.
"If the Frenchman is involved, it might explain the rest of the message," Bokman said. "According to the caller, I was to tell you Duman is in Montego Bay."
"That fat bastard," David swore. "Max, I appreciate the information, but I think you'd better leave. Do what you can for Assi and forget about this meeting. The Medellín Cartel was guarding Heiden."
"They don't concern me."
"They concern me. I don't want your association with me to make you a target."
"Don't worry about that," Max assured him. "I will leave, though. As you say, I might be able to do Assi more good than I can you, David. My plane is at your disposal. It's fuelled and waiting for you. Let me have your keys."
Katrina handed him the car keys as he continued his instructions. "I'll leave you the limo. Whatever you decide to do, the driver has a key to a locker at the airport. My people are stocking it as we speak. You'll want to change before going through security. There's also a briefcase with everything else you'll need in the way of money. My name will get you to the plane, but security is tight. Don't take anything you wouldn't take through Tel Aviv. Good luck, David."
David shook the older man's hand and thanked him. Bokman waved off the thanks and turned to Katrina. "A pleasure to meet you, my dear. Take care of him, will you?"
Katrina stared into his small, dark eyes and noticed how the puffy flesh around them creased as he smiled. She already liked and trusted the man.
Humming to himself, Bokman walked out of the restaurant and spoke to his chauffeur before driving off in the rental car.
* * * * *
"I never understood what a bastard Mardinaud is," Katrina said. "He just expects us to walk into whatever trap Duman has laid for us? To hell with his little games. To hell with Duman and to hell with the treasure."
"I wish it was only Duman," David said. "Mardinaud is smarter than that. He's left me no choice. I have to go to Jamaica."
Katrina's hand stole over his. From David's reminisces, Katrina knew how much he loved Assi. David would never turn his back on his friend, no matter what the danger. "When do we leave?" she asked.
"
We
are not going anywhere," David said firmly.
"You're going after Duman, aren't you?"
"If I can't get Duman, Assi is finished. With Duman, I can claim that the Heiden connection was an elaborate plan to get the terrorist through the treasure. We can make Colombia out to have harbored both Heiden and Duman."
"So," Katrina asked again, "when do we leave?"
"You don't have to come with me."
"Your concern is touching, but I am coming."
"Mardinaud will have told Duman about us," David warned. "We'll be walking into a trap he's had hours to set. I have to go, but you don't." He peered into Katrina's eyes. "Do you want him enough to risk going to Jamaica?"
"Yes," she replied. But she wondered if she really meant that she wanted David enough to risk going to Jamaica.
* * * * *
David opened the locker and took out two small suitcases, one white and one blue, and handed the white one to Katrina. While she headed for the ladies room, he grabbed the other case and slammed the locker shut. A half hour later, they met outside the airport's coffee shop.
"Are we fools for going to Jamaica?" Katrina whispered.
David shrugged and reached to carry her suitcase for her. She glared at him. "If I can slug a pack through the jungle, I can carry my own suitcase."
David pulled his hand back as though the bag was on fire. "You just look so beautiful," he explained. "I couldn't help myself."
Katrina's serious mask broke into a smile. She kissed him on the cheek as she handed over the bag. "My shining knight," she teased.
Without warning, a short man shoved a fistful of pamphlets at the couple. "Rise up and battle the overlords," he cried. "Join the Communist Party of Colombia!"
Katrina slammed the heel of her hand into the man's chest, causing him to stumble backward. He regained his balance and immediately started toward her again. David stepped between the two. One glance at the menacing look in the Israeli's eyes and the campaigner backed off, muttering to himself as he turned away.
Katrina stared straight ahead and didn't speak while they boarded the plane. "I guess I should be glad we made it without being arrested for assault," he joked.
Katrina whirled on him, then looked sheepish when she saw his grin. "I'm sorry about that back there," she said.
"That's okay. After the last two days, overreaction is natural. Maybe you just don't know your own strength. That guy sure picked the wrong person to convert."
"It's just that I have never agreed with the Communist Party. It goes back to my childhood."
David waited, but Katrina was silent, staring out the window of the plane.
"Well?" he prodded. "I told you all about my childhood. You can't leave me hanging like this." He reached for her hand and Katrina settled back into her seat with a sigh.
"I never knew my mother and father," she said. "The Communists killed them."
David regarded her silently for a moment, noticing how the sparkle had disappeared from her eyes. He heard himself in her tone and recognized the protective cocoon of denied emotion.
"What happened?" he asked.
"When the Communists swept southward toward Athens in 1948, they tried to swell their ranks with volunteers from the surrounding villages. The mountain people didn't want to fight so Moscow ordered the Albanians to draft all able bodied male villagers into the new army - forcibly, if necessary. As news spread of the conscription, the village men left their families and hid. The Communists mined the roadways as a deterrence."
"And your father? Was he one of those who fled?"
"Just before the Communists entered the village. He didn't have any choice. Nobody ever saw him again," Katrina said. "My mother was pregnant with me at the time. That made her one of the lucky ones.
"At first, the bastards were almost humane although they used the villagers as slaves. The women were forced to farm, cook, and entertain." Katrina shuddered, remembering the stories she had heard. "But the women wouldn't cooperate. The Communists resorted to brute force and terrorized the women until they performed."
"But your mother was spared all this?"