The Warsaw Protocol: A Novel(53)

“I wonder if there are classes in ass kissing that idiots like him go to,” he said to her. “He has no appreciation for what’s going on here.”

“Not a drop.”

“My guess is the box is GPS-tagged,” he said, “and they’re tracking it right now. We’ll need to take a look.”

“I know. We’ll deal with that when he’s done with his important call.”

He caught the sarcasm.

“Sonia set it all up, with just enough resistance to make it look good. Though shooting that rope was a bit much,” he said. “I owe her for that one.”

Stephanie smiled.

“It all means that the Poles didn’t get an invite,” he said. “The Russians must have tipped them off to the whole thing. That would explain their partnership in Bruges. But it was a limited engagement. The Russians would not want anyone else involved after that.”

“Unless they force themselves in, or allow us to lead them to it.”

He agreed. “They’ll put out a story on what happened tonight. They have to in order to stay consistent with the other thefts. And they can’t allow the Russians to think they are cooperating with us in any way.”

He could see she agreed.

“Czajkowski will probably call Washington and raise hell at the lies,” he said. “That would be expected. Our problem is that the GPS marker will never make it to the auction. Based on the email we just saw, our transport tomorrow will check for tags and, if discovered, the U.S. will be disqualified.” He smiled. “We could leave it in and this will all be over quickly. Bunch would even have to take some of the blame.”

“I wish. But that information would still go on sale.”

“I’m actually a little curious as to what’s being offered. It’s got to be pretty big. The White House didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head. “Not a word. And I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t curious, too. It has to be both personal and politically fatal. I say we keep going and see how it goes.”

He was okay with that. “The Russians are not going to lose that auction.”

“I know. But maybe it would not be a bad thing if they won.”

He caught the twinkle in her eye.

“I like the way you think.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


Jonty climbed into bed.

He’d chosen the largest chamber in Sturney Castle for his own, the one used long ago by the castle’s lord, the room fully furnished with period pieces, all representative of Slovakia’s past. Eli Reinhardt was down the hall, since he’d thought it a good idea to keep his newly acquired partner close.

They’d left the cache of documents in the mine, replacing the salt wall and disguising their invasion as best they could. Konrad had assured them that Level X was rarely accessed, since it was not actually part of the working mine. More a reminder from the past when the Soviets were in control, one few today cared to recall.

So the secret should be safe.

He’d promised Konrad some additional money, both to assure his silence and to cement his loyalty. They would need more visits to Level X in the weeks ahead as they determined what, if anything, there was to find. Unfortunately Jonty would be of little help, since his Polish was weak and his Russian nonexistent. Eli, of course, was fluent in both. But he was not about to allow his “partner” unfettered access. That would only end with Eli keeping the most valuable information for himself. No. He’d hire a surrogate and pay him or her enough to ensure that person stayed loyal. To further cement the relationship, Vic would accompany them at all times, since a little fear was a good thing. Both for Eli and for the hired help.

Eli had kept Art Munoz as his own personal protection. The Bulgarian was ensconced in the bedroom next to Eli. Why the need for a bodyguard? Who knew. But he’d decided to allow Reinhardt whatever he wanted. The important thing was to get through tomorrow and conclude the auction. The twenty million euros he would owe Eli was a small price to pay for no drama.

Yesterday’s enemy can be today’s friend.

How true.

Vic reported that six teams had been dispatched to various points in Poland, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, and Austria. All within a few hours’ driving time. The Germans would not be participating. Eli had assumed their place and provided the Holy Nail from Bamberg Cathedral, which would be sold with the rest of the holy relics. He’d been worried about the Americans, but now they were in. Finally. He’d received both the RSVP and an image of the Spear of St. Maurice. Their presence was essential. During their phone call a few weeks back, Warner Fox had assured him that they would not only bid but actually win the auction, and that meant lots of U.S. dollars coming his way. Fox had been quite supportive of the endeavor, congratulating him on his enterprising ingenuity. More of that former businessman coming through, where money talked and more money talked louder.

He settled between the four posters, the firm mattress a wonder. The castle was wonderfully equipped. No expense had been spared in making it comfortable. For what he was paying for only a week’s worth of use, the whole place should be lined with gold.

Normally, he liked to read before falling asleep. A habit he’d acquired as a teenager, and one he’d maintained his entire adult life. He loved the classics but, if truth be told, a good mystery intrigued him, too. Something about the puzzle. Much like his own life, which at times seemed straight out of an international suspense thriller.