The Stone of Archimedes (21 page)

He shook his right arm at her, his finger right at her face, “You don't have the right to tell me this. I am a God among men. I have enough money to buy a thousand women like you. A million. You will get off my yacht and go back to your country and tell your boss that I will do as I like.”

“Sit down,” she said calmly.

“You don't tell me what to do.” His finger was even closer to her face.

With one swift movement, Toni shoved one of her crutches up into the man's balls, buckling him to the deck in excruciating pain. When the bartender reached for something behind the bar, Toni found her 9mm auto and pointed it at the man—the international language saying ‘stop now and live.' Then she swished the gun from the bartender to the waiter and pointed toward the door, meaning get the hell out of there and leave them alone.

Petros Caras started to recover and said, “Why did you do that?”

“I told you. You can't go rogue and expect not to get punished.”

“I'll kill you!”

“No, you won't. Because if anything happens to me, you'll have the full weight of the Agency hunting you down and killing you.”

The Greek forced himself to his feet and settled back into his chair. “I can't believe you hit me in the balls. Do you know how that feels?”

“I've heard. But no. I can't say I know for sure.”

The two of them sat for a moment in silence, the yacht swaying them back and forth.

Toni broke the silence. “This affair with the American professor. Tell me about your interest in her.”

His eyes widened. “What woman?”

“Come on, Petros. You're a terrible liar. You don't think you can mess with the sister of a U.S. senator, a wealthy one at that, and not catch our attention.”

The Greek appeared to be considering his options. Finally, he said, “She has something I want.”

“Like what?” This was one thing the Agency had not properly briefed Toni on, since the man's motive was still not known.

He hesitated and then released a breath and said, “An artifact of my Greek heritage.”

“Quit being so cryptic,” Toni demanded.

“I have to be. I'm not entirely certain of what she's discovered. But I have contacts in the academic world, and they let me know that this professor Sara Halsey Jones was on to something important.”

“Such as?”

“Like the lost manuscripts of Archimedes.”

She didn't know a lot about that man, other than what she learned in school. “You're already worth billions. What more could you need?”

He shook his head vehemently, like a drunk who no longer controlled his neck muscles. “No, no, no. The find would be priceless. Well, everything can be priced. But this would be more important than money. It is a matter of Greek national pride. Archimedes has never gotten the recognition he deserves. Instead, Galileo and Newton and others have always been in the spotlight. This could be our chance to change history.”

“Then why not let the American professor do her work?”

“I can't trust academia to get it right. They've covered up the truth for more than two thousand years.”

Toni guessed this guy had either lost his mind or was actually starting to believe in something other than himself.

“Well you need to leave this American professor alone,” she said. “Do you understand?”

Petros Caras simply stared at her. He could have been thinking, in deep meditation, or in a coma. “This is too important.”

“You don't understand. I can control only so much of the equation.” She didn't want to mention the fact that Jake Adams would eat this guy for a light snack if the Greek didn't shut down his men.

He smiled. “You mean Jake Adams?”

With Jake's name spoken aloud, the Greek's men returned to the lounge. But this time they were all armed with automatic weapons. Toni had no choice but to turn over her gun. “You're making a big mistake.”

“Adams is already dead,” Petros Caras sneered. “I will drop you off in Sicily in the morning, assuming you don't resist and try something stupid.”

This man was crazy, she thought, if he even contemplated taking on the entire Central Intelligence Agency. Was Jake dead? She was sure she would sense it, and she felt nothing now. Maybe it was just that she was now truly over the man.

The Greek men hauled her back to her room and locked the door from the outside. She was slipping. She hadn't even noticed the locking mechanism on the outside of the door.

Moving quietly through the dark, the wind blowing rain against their faces, Jake and Elisa made their way through the alley leading up to a house on the outskirts of Siracusa. Jake had been able to pinpoint this house as the last location of the iPad owned by Sara Halsey Jones.

Jake stopped Elisa with a hand to her arm. “I saw movement on the second level,” he whispered.

She nodded and mumbled, “I can't officially be here. I'll lose my job.”

They had discussed this on the short drive from their motel in Augusta to Siracusa. He knew she was right, and he couldn't ask her to give up her employment for a case he was working.

“All right. Go back to the car and bring it around to the front and wait for my signal.”

“What will that be?” she wanted to know.

“I don't know. Hopefully I'll be the one dragging Sara from the house as a bunch of guys shoot at me. Anything short of that and you get the hell out of here. I'll make my way back to the motel. Understand?”

She agreed with a slight nod.

With that she took off into the darkness and Jake turned back toward the house. He had no intel whatsoever on this place. So, there were only a finite number of options. Knock on the door, kick in the door, break in quietly through the door or a window, or make some noise and draw someone outside. But only one option seemed to resonate with him.

Slowly he stepped toward the back door, the rain soaking his hair and dripping down to his face. He kept his gun in its holster for now. Once he reached the door he could hear music inside and guessed someone was having a good time. Quietly he tested the door lever with his gloved hand. It wasn't locked. Now he pulled his gun and held it at the side of his leg as he gently swung the door open and moved inside to a small country kitchen.

A light shone in from the living room where the music was blaring, some version of Italian heavy metal, with the singer screaming like a banshee.

As Jake swiftly entered the living room, the two men there startled and then went for their guns. Jake shot the first man in his right shoulder, knocking him back against the white leather sofa, his blood splattering against the couch and the white wall and the man grasping his wound with his free hand.

The other man froze, his hand just a few feet from his gun. Jake shook his head and the man backed into his lounge chair.

“What do you want?” the unharmed man asked in Italian.

Jake answered in English. “If you do what I say, you just might live. Where's the woman?”

“What woman?”

So the guy understood English. Good. “Let's not play stupid, although in your case it might not be an act. Where is she?”

“We don't know about a woman,” the wounded one said through clenched teeth.

Moving around the room, his gun shifting from one man to the next as he walked, Jake pointed to an iPad on the coffee table. “That's her iPad.”

“We found it,” said the one without a bullet in him.

“Right. It fell off the back of a truck. Where is she?”

Jake picked up the iPad and turned it on, his eyes still on the two Italians. He checked out a few folders on the desktop and found the pictures Sara had taken.

“We don't have the woman,” bullet-free said.

“She was here, though.”

Neither said a word now. That was his answer. Damn it. They had already moved her. That's what he might have done.

The one with a bullet in him looked faint.

“Where did the Greeks take her?”

“I don't know.”

Jake moved over and collected the two guns from in front of the men. He put his back into its holster. There wasn't a man alive who wanted to get shot with their own gun. But he needed to make this guy talk and knew that it wasn't always easy to make it happen. Moving closer to the Italian, Jake swung swiftly and smacked the guy on the side of his head, knocking him out. Then he checked on the wounded one. The blood was already starting to clot. His bullet had smashed through the top of the guy's shoulder shattering his socket, but the wound wouldn't kill the guy. So Jake looked around and found some plastic zip strips. Yeah, they had brought Sara here. In less than a minute he had the two of them tied up. Then he dragged the one without the bullet wound into the kitchen.

He turned on a burner on the gas stove and then took two large knives from a wooden block and set the blades into the flame. Searching through the cupboards, he found a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Then he poured a cup of water and splashed it across the man's face.

One way or another this guy would talk.

Fifteen minutes later and Jake was back out in the rain walking around the block toward the front, keeping his eyes open for the Fiat and Elisa. He always felt somewhat guilty making someone talk. He'd been on the receiving end of that kind of conversation, and it was always a game with no real ending. You could twist a guy's dick off and get total crap for intel. Or you could deceive the guy and get everything you wanted to know. The first way was quicker, though.

He came up from the blind spot on the passenger side of the Fiat and grabbed the door handle. It was locked, but his action made Elisa jump from behind the wheel.

She clicked open the door and Jake got in, a pain shooting into the wound on his side.

“What happened?” she asked.

Jake showed her Sara's iPad. “It was there but Sara wasn't. Turns out she was there earlier in the day, but the Greeks took her somewhere else.”

Elisa gave him a desperate expression. “Where is she, Jake?”

He shook his head and shrugged. “I don't know. There were two men in the house and they didn't want to give me any information.”

“Are you sure they're not holding out?”

He explained how he could be very persuasive at times, leaving out the details of his actions, including the fact that he'd shot one of them in the shoulder. But both of the men would live and that's probably more than they would have allowed for him if the roles had been reversed.

Jake said, “One of the men eventually said he was sure they still had her in town.”

“How are they sure?”

“The Greeks let it slip that they would meet up with a boat in the morning.” He checked his watch and realized they had about at least seven hours before morning light, and the wind and rain was starting to subside. His friends in high places would let him know the position of the Greek billionaire's yacht. “We just need to position ourselves to intercept them before they can get Sara to the yacht.” And that could be more difficult than at first thought. There were three ways to get out to the yacht. The yacht could pull into port, or the Greeks could bring Sara out to sea in a boat or a helo. Too many options for just the two of them to cover without help from the Agency.

They drove back to the motel in Augusta and Jake stood overlooking the ocean out the back window. The sea was starting to calm down. If they couldn't find Sara in Siracusa, they would have to intercept before she got to the yacht.

Elisa nuzzled up next to Jake. “What are you thinking?”

“I know you can fly fixed wing aircraft.” He turned to her. “But can you fly a helo?”

“No. Why?”

“Because I have a feeling we're going to need a ride to the yacht. And that means either a helo or a boat. I can handle a boat. Are you up for that?”

She glanced out at the ocean. “I have to tell you something.”

“You mean the fact that you're really on leave right now?”

Surprised, she said, “How did you know?”

“I guessed as much,” he said. “Otherwise you probably would have some help with this case. Did your agency pull you from the case?”

Wrapping herself with her own arms, she twisted away from him, a look of concern seeping from every expressive muscle on her face.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

Elisa lowered her chin to her chest and closed her eyes. Finally she looked at him and said, “I don't know why, but they told me to back off of Petros Caras. He obviously has some pull within our government.”

Jake put his hands on her arms. “Every billionaire in the world has pull with their government, along with many foreign governments.”

“Money corrupts,” she concluded.

“No. People are corrupt, Elisa. There could be a dozen reasons why Petros Caras is being protected. But I don't care about any of them. I've been paid to find and bring Sara back to America. And I plan on doing just that. I don't give a flying fuck if you're on vacation or working the case under orders. In fact, I find it more compelling that you're still working this case despite your agency telling you not to do so. It means you're a little like me.” He smiled and squeezed her arms.

She fell into his arms and started to sob against his shoulder. He knew enough about women to let her finish before he continued to talk with her. Finally she pulled back and Jake wiped her tears away.

“I'm such a little girl,” she said, sniffling.

“Don't worry about it. It just makes you more. . .human. Believe me, I've met some cold people in this world. You're not one of them.” He hesitated and considered his options. Maybe he shouldn't keep involving her in his case. She could lose her job, or worse. “Maybe I should just continue this on my own.”

She immediately shook her head. “No way. I must see this through to the end. This man thinks he can steal our ancient artifacts just because he's a billionaire. I won't let him.”