Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) (24 page)

“Huh?”

“They’d
take handfuls and drop it on the bare table for him to eat. No plate, no paper
placemat. Then he’d eat it with his hands, then jump up and go running around
again. Apparently everyone was getting pissed off. An elderly couple got up,
came over to my sister’s table and said, quite loudly, ‘
You’ve
got an
extremely well behaved child’, then left. Sylvia said she was so proud that day.
She realized just how blessed they were that they had taught Jenny how to
behave from an early age.”

“She’s a
sweet kid.”

Dawson
looked at his watch. “Okay, enough stories, I really gotta go. What are you
going to do?”

“Oh, Shirley’s
coming over with some wedding catalogues.”

“Uh
huh.”

“Second
thoughts?”

“Nope.
You’re the colonel on this one. Just tell me when to show up, what to do, and
I’ll try not to kill anyone or blow anything up.”

“Good. I
doubt we’d get our deposit back if you did.”

Dawson
grinned and gave her a peck, opening the door to her apartment before turning
back toward her and winking.

“But I
make no promises about the guys, especially Niner.”

Two blocks from Acton Residence, Germantown, Maryland

Kane browsed the feed from Langley, the number of possible vehicles
reduced dramatically, the one flashing orange on his tablet eliciting a headshake.

Idiots.

He had
tried to convince the Agent in Charge that it was a waste of time, but
apparently someone at the Field Office had ordered him to devote his entire
team to running it down. After everyone had peeled away from the Actons’ curb,
it had occurred to him that the stolen SUV might be a genuine red herring, the
kidnappers perhaps stealing a decoy vehicle just to throw the hounds off the
scent.

A car
pulled in behind him and he glanced in his rearview mirror then smiled,
pressing the button to unlock the doors. He glanced in his side view mirror,
giving Sherrie White the once over, appreciating her sleek form, thanking God
that his buddy had found her first. No matter how much he loved sleeping with
women, especially women as gorgeous as Sherrie, he’d give it all up—okay, maybe
not all. A month or two?—to see his buddy happy.

And
Sherrie definitely made his friend happy.

He’s
one lucky sonofabitch. If he weren’t my best friend, I’d be trying to tap that
hard.

He shook
his head.

Do I
really sound like Barney Stinson?

One of
his favorite shows was How I Met Your Mother, and he loved the juxtaposition of
an openly gay actor playing a serial womanizer.

I wonder
if it would have worked as well if Neil Patrick Harris were actually straight.

He had a
feeling it wouldn’t have.

Sherrie
climbed into the passenger seat, leaning over and giving him a peck on the
cheek. “Hey, Dylan, good to see you.”

“You
too. Glad you could make it.”

She
shrugged. “Not like I’m doing anything. Chris is holed up in an op center and
not allowed to leave until the Chief is convinced he’s safe, and I’m not
scheduled for another op ’til the end of the week.”

“So
you’re bored.”

She
grinned. “Yup. Chief agreed I could help.”

“You
can. We need to figure out which, if any, of these vehicles might be our
kidnappers’.”

Sherrie scanned
the list on the tablet, still several dozen vehicles on it. “I’d eliminate any
that weren’t leaving the city.”

Kane
smiled slightly. Sherrie was new to the business, at least compared to him, and
he always liked to see how junior agent’s minds worked—it gave him an insight
into how they might perform later in their career. The ones who could think
logically were always more successful.

Time
to shine, Padawan.

“Why?”
he asked, challenging her to explain her logic.

“They
wouldn’t stay local, they’d risk questions from nosy neighbors in a small town
like this.”

“Agreed,
just like the tip that sent us here in the first place.”

“Exactly.
They’ll want to be heading for an urban center so they can lose themselves in a
crowd. I’d eliminate anyone that was heading into the town center, rather than
leaving.”

“Okay.”
Kane took the tablet and added some filter criteria to the list. “That leaves
ten vehicles, much better. And one of those is the stolen one the FBI is
running down.”

Sherrie
shook her head. “No, the vehicle would be clean.”

“Very
good, young Padawan.”

She
grinned. “Learned from the best.”

“They do
know what they’re doing on the Farm.” He pointed at the tablet, a grid of nine
vehicles showing. “Okay, which ones do you think we can eliminate.”

She
pointed at one of the vehicles, the rear shot showing large custom exhaust.
“Those would be loud and attract too much attention. No way they’d use it.”

“Agreed.”
He tapped the display, eliminating it from the grid.

She
pointed at another one. “Kid in the passenger seat.”

Kane
eliminated it.

“And
that one.” She pointed again. “And that one.”

“Five
left.”

“That
one has only the driver, that one too.”

“And
then there were three.”

Sherrie
looked at him, smiling. “Much more manageable.”

“And
there’s three of us.”

Sherrie’s
eyes narrowed. “Who’s the third?”

He
pointed toward a vehicle as it drove by, parking in front of them. The engine
turned off and the door opened, the lithe form of Lee Fang stepping out.

Sherrie’s
jaw dropped. “Is that who I think it is?”

Kane
smiled. “Yup.”

Somewhere over the Atlantic

“Man, I could get used to this.”

Dawson
nodded in agreement at Jimmy’s comment. The Gulf V jet that Laura arranged for
them was opulent compared to the back of a Herc.

Niner
sighed. “I knew I should have married her when I had the chance.”

Sergeant
Eugene “Jagger” Thomas snorted. “Right. I’m not sure she even knows you exist.”

“Oh, we
shared a moment.”

“Was she
there for this moment?”

Niner
gave Jagger a look. “Her exact position on the globe is of no importance in my
fantasy life.”

“Hey,
that’s another man’s wife you’re talking about,” rumbled Atlas. “And besides, I
do believe it was me who first commented on how fine she was, which means I
have first dibs if it doesn’t work out with the doc.”

Niner
pointed a finger at him. “Hey, you’re so close to being married you shouldn’t
even be thinking that way.”

Atlas’
eyes flared slightly. “Yeah, well, let’s not rush things.”

“Ooh, I
do think someone’s afraid of commitment.”

“Hey,
who said anything about commitment?”

The comm
system beeped and everyone became quiet as Dawson put it on speaker. “Go head.”

“Hey,
it’s Dylan.”

“Hey
buddy, you’re on speaker with me, Niner, Atlas, Jimmy, Spock and Jagger.”

“Hey
guys. I’ll cut to the chase, we’re on a deadline. We’re trying to trace the
vehicle that was spotted leaving the Acton residence, but there’s not much to
go on. We’ve got it narrowed down to I think three possibilities, but the FBI
disagrees. They’re off chasing down a stolen car.”

Niner
shook his head. “Pros use clean vehicles.”

“That’s
the consensus at this end as well.”

Dawson
leaned forward. “What can you tell us about this castle in Italy?”

“I’ve
had Leroux send you floor plans and everything else we’ve got, but the plans
are almost seventy years out of date so we have no way of knowing if the owner
has made any modifications.”

“Who’s
the owner?”

“It
looks like it was bought by a Swiss national named Hermann Kaufer in 1946, just
after the war. Apparently he promised to restore it, which he did. He got
approval from city council to later amend the agreement turning it into a
completely private residence, all previously allowed public tours cancelled.”

“Going
in as tourists would have made things easier,” said Jagger.

“Off the
table, unfortunately. But get this. We’re monitoring heavy Internet traffic in
and out of the place, a lot of heat signatures, dozens of vehicles and what
looks like armed patrols.”

“They
definitely value their privacy. Any idea how many hostiles?”

“Hard to
tell, but Langley is thinking it could be as high as two hundred.”

“Jesus,”
muttered Jimmy, making an exaggerated count of the team. “I think we’re
outnumbered a little.”

“Who
owns it now?” asked Dawson. “1946 is a long time ago.”

“It
looks like the original owner died and left it to his son who’s listed as the
current owner.”

Dawson
nodded. “Okay, we’re going to need to know every way in and out of that place.
I mean sewers, drains, tunnels, anything you can get us. Also, monitor those
patrols. I want to know if there are any patterns.”

“Langley’s
on it.”

“What
kind of support can we expect?”

“Nada on
the ground, unfortunately.”

“We’re
used to that,” said Niner.

“I’ve
got gear waiting for when you arrive.”

Dawson
looked at a tablet computer, an update coming in from Langley. “And when we get
there, what’s the mission?”

“Right
now we’re trying to find the doc’s parents and rescue them. The key to finding
them may be inside that castle.”

Dawson
frowned. “If these people were willing to kidnap them once, and apparently keep
them for an extended period, they won’t hesitate to try again, or take someone
else important to the professor to keep him quiet.”

Niner
leaned forward. “It sounds to me like this castle is important to them,
otherwise they’d just pull up stakes and move.”

“Agreed,”
replied Kane. “That’s what I’m thinking too. They must have too much invested
in there to leave, so they want everyone’s silence guaranteed.”

Dawson
pinched his chin. “Sounds to me like the only way to put an end to this is to
end their ties to that castle. Force them out somehow, then the doc doesn’t
know anything of value.”

“Agreed.
Any ideas?”

“We
could always blow it up,” offered Niner.

“You
want to blow everything up,” said Atlas.

“Hey, a
man has to have a hobby.”

Kane
chuckled. “I don’t think you’ll have enough C4 for that.”

Dawson
nodded, pursing his lips as he flipped through the plans for the castle. “I
think we need to start thinking in terms of less is more.”

“You’ve
got an idea?”

“I think
so.”

CIA Safe House, Rome, Italy

“Please stay away from the windows, Professor.”

Acton
growled at Dylan’s contact, Mr. Verde, without looking at him. They had been
cooped up in the safe house for hours and he couldn’t stand it. He was a man of
action, not one to sit idly by while others did all the heavy lifting. And what
was most frustrating was at the moment, it felt as if nobody was doing any
lifting.