The Prague Plot: The Cold War Meets the Jihad (Jeannine Ryan Series Book 3) (14 page)

Daylight brightened the countryside near Ruzyne Airport. The sun’s rays broke through the bare branches and crossed Bill Hamm’s eyes. He awoke on his back, shivering in a layer of leaves and broken twigs that surrounded him.

He turned his head to see Ivana huddled under a nearby bush. She sat trembling, her arms locked about her knees to retain body warmth. She wore only a sweater, her jacket covered Bill’s chest. Apparently too, she had pushed leaves and branches around him for insulation and concealment.

He focused upwards. Above him was a horizontal branch, shoulder high. Now Bill remembered. They had fled through the woods from the searchers’ lights.

Evidently he had run into the stout limb and been knocked unconscious.

He felt his forehead. His fingers came away tinted with blood, but not much. Whatever gash he had sustained was not deep.

Finally, he lifted himself up.

Ivana rubbed her ankles. She spoke.

“Are you better?”

“I think so. How long have I been down.”

She shrugged.

“Maybe an hour, maybe more.”

“And you didn’t leave?”

She shrugged again.

“I thought about it when they stopped looking for us, but you saved my life. Besides, I have no money and no place to go They found my knapsack.”

She added.

“It was by the tree when we ran. I heard them shouting. It had my Euros and the papers I took from Karel.”

“Karel?”

“Karel Moravec, my boss. Those men after me were his.”

“What ‘papers’ do you mean?”

“It wasn’t just papers. There were official company records plus CD-ROMs, hard copy files and photos. Gustav said it would be my insurance policy against Karel. With them, we could prove Karel is an international criminal, demonstrate his crimes against humanity.”

“Gustav? Do you mean Gustav Slavik?”

“Yes, but how would you know him?”

“He’s the reason I’m here. He wants us to protect you.”

“Me? But you are American. He hates Am ... ”

Ivana stopped and frowned.

It was Bill’s turn to shrug.

“Evidently he likes you more than he hates us.”

Ivana shut her eyes. She owed that old man.
Thank you, Gustav
.

Ivana stood while Bill surveyed the bare winter woods. Only a few brown leaves populated the otherwise bare branches of the oaks. A cold breeze whispered through the tree tops. Ivana pressed her arms to her body. Bill returned her jacket to her shoulders.

“Thanks for the loan of your coat, but we have to leave now.”

He felt in his pocket for the phone. His hand came out empty.
Damn!
He remembered. He had lost it crossing the road.

He looked about. There, to the north was an opening through the trees, a cultivated field of stubble.

“There is a farm over that way. The house can’t be far. We’ll say we are hikers who are lost. You can ask to use their phone. We’d better start walking.”

Bill picked his way through the brush.

Ivana followed.

In North Carolina, the sun was still low on the eastern horizon when Gustav Slavik and Johan Zeleny arrived at the Dare County Airport in Manteo.

Gustav stepped down from their charter. Across the tarmac, the Emergency Management Services’ Medevac Bk 117 helicopter stood ready for use. Further beyond, the waters of the Croatan Sound rippled under the morning mist.

Johan rubbed his left knee and descended. He limped after his leader.

“I’m not as young as I used to be. Who do we locate first, Simek or Mila.”

“We go to Nags Head. I want to see Mila. Simek is scared. She’ll stay and hide at the Moccasin Cottages. There is no hurry for her.”

“Any news about Ivana?”

Gustav glared. Ivana was a concern he shared with no one. He walked to the rental car.

Johan limped after him in silence.

Gustav knew the way to Mila’s house. He drove.

In Nag’s Head, Karel’s men drove past Mila’s house. The nearby houses appeared shuttered for the winter and no cars were visible. Only Mila’s had clear windows and was in current use. Still, its driveway was empty. Evidently she was not home.

The driver steered the gray Ford Excursion around the corner. The street was deserted. He spoke.

“I’ll park past that third house. That way no one can see us from Patekova’s windows.”

The passenger touched his ear, still sore from the smashed listening device. He spoke.

“What are we doing? Are you sure Gustav will come back here?”

“Karel says Gustav left Maryland for the Outer Banks. Give me a better idea. This is the only place we know Gustav has been. Maybe Simek and Zeleny will show up too.”

He stopped and thought. He pointed to the house next to Mila’s. Like hers it was lifted on sturdy posts, one floor above the ground. The only structure visible in the open area underneath was a partitioned shower for bathers. It had swinging “saloon” doors supported by two of the load-bearing posts.

“You wait in that shower. Stand inside behind that post. I’ll do the same across the street.”

The house across the street was likewise mounted on posts. It too had a framed shower in the open space underneath.

“No thanks, it’s cold. I’ll wait in the car.”

The driver looked at his partner. They were in enough trouble with Karel. There was no point in fighting among themselves.

“All right, I’ll take the far shower. You stay in the car. But when I signal, get in that other shower, fast.”

Both men wore body armor. Each had a modern-variant AK-47, with a classic curved 30-round magazine. Armor and weapon were heavy, but they would be in fixed positions.

The driver slung his weapon over his shoulder and made his way under the house. Once in the shower, behind the swinging doors, he looked over and waved. The passenger waved back through the car window.

This was no fancy plan. This was an ambush, one with overwhelming firepower.

Gustav would die!

In Corolla, North Carolina, the night spent in Anne Simek’s rental was uneventful. Mila slept in Anne’s bedroom off of the great room on the top level. Peter Zeleny, Aileen Harris and Jim Harrigan had separate bedrooms on the mid level below.

Jim was the first to rise. He made his way to the top level where he found coffee. Soon a “wake up” aroma filled the great room and filtered to the bedrooms below. In response, Peter Zeleny smothered his face in his pillow and lay motionless. Likewise, in her bedroom Aileen did not stir.

On the top level, Mila smelled the coffee and dressed. In the great room Jim poured her a cup She sipped slowly.

“Jim, what are your plans today?”

“I’m sorry, I’m on duty. I tried to switch assignments, but I couldn’t. I’ll be back about four this afternoon. Meanwhile, you have to promise to stay away from Nags Head and your house. Stay here with Peter and Aileen. Don’t go anywhere alone.”

Mila did not like orders, even kind ones. She responded.

“But Jim, I have to pick up some clothes at my house. You don’t want me looking like a witch.”

“Tell you what, I’ll meet you at noon in Nags Head. We can go together to your house to pick up your things.”

Mila nodded.
This guy likes me. He’s worried about me.

“Noon will be fine.”

He left. Mila watched him go.
I like you too, Jim.

Downstairs, Peter slept. Likewise, Aileen’s door was closed.

Upstairs Mila sat and shut her eyes, but her cell phone vibrated. She looked at calling number. It was Anne Simek.

“Anne, dear God, where are you? I’ve tried to reach you.”

Anne’s reply was punctuated with sobs. The only word that Mila was sure of was “Vaclav.”

“I know he’s dead, Anne, but you’re not to blame. Blame me first. You didn’t know. Now tell me where you are.”

Anne’s words were garbled, but Mila understood.

“Anne, don’t go near my house. It’s too dangerous. Come to your rental house.”

But static overtook the connection, and the phone went dead.

Gustav Slavik was a survivor for one reason, he was a thinker. No operation was so simple that it did not merit analysis, including this return to Mila’s house. On his prior visit, Gustav had approached Mila’s house from Route 158, her Office side.

This time he chose another approach, from the beachside road. He drove past Mila’s street. Moments later, he stopped. To his right there were no homes, only low dunes with sea oats that waved erratically towards the beach. Gustav stepped out the car, took a deep breath of the salt air, and rubbed his hands together against the cold. He turned towards his passenger.

“Johan, did you see that car parked back there?”

“Where? What car?”

“Back under that yellow beach house, the gray Excursion.”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“You are as soft as your son. You have aged, Comrade. That Ford Excursion means Karel’s men are waiting for us.”

“But, how do you know?”

“His men followed me to Ryan Associates in Bethesda. They drove a gray Ford Excursion.”

“What are we going to do?”

“
You
are going to do what I say. Take the keys. Give me five minutes, then turn left at the next cross street and go to 158. Turn left again and drive back to Mila’s. Stop behind the Realty Office. Do not get out of the car. Leave the rest to me.

Johan Zeleny took the keys.

In Corolla, Peter Zeleny was awake and drinking coffee. Mila was at the stove where bacon sizzled in the frying pan. A half-empty carton of eggs sat open on the counter.

Aileen came upstairs. Her eyes were clear. Evidently her headache was gone. Peter spoke.

“Aileen, I ... ”

“No Peter. Don’t talk to me.”

He bit his tongue.

Johan Zeleny drove as directed on Route 158. He saw the sign for Patek Realty, and parked behind the office. No one was in sight. He cut the engine and waited.

He heard a knock on the rear passenger-side window.

It was Gustav.

Blood smeared the window where he had rapped.

Johan Zeleny clicked the rear door locks open. Gustav laid two AK-47’s on the floor in the rear. His hands were bloody.

Johan spoke.

“Are you hurt? Where did the guns come from?”

Gustav shrugged, and sat in the back on the passenger side.

“It’s not my blood. No questions. Drive around the corner and stop by that Ford Excursion.”

At the Ford, Gustav transferred the weapons to its backseat. He tossed a blanket over them. Then he spoke to Johan.

“I’ll drive our car. You follow me in the Excursion. Stay at the speed limit. You don’t want to get stopped by the police. There are two bodies under the tarp in the back.”

“Two?”

“Karel’s men work in pairs. No more questions.”

“But where are we going? Why?”

“The mainland. The map shows a wildlife refuge by the Alligator River. There must be a place there where nobody will find these scum.”

Gustav added.

“Karel will have to guess what happened to his men.”

To Anne Simek it was a homecoming of sorts. The house at Corolla was unchanged. The white siding glistened in the noon sun. Out on the Currituck Sound, a lone fisherman sheltered his head and neck with a wide-brimmed straw hat. A jacket, needed in the early morning cold but superfluous in the warm afternoon sun, was tied about his waist.

Anne parked her Focus near the rear stairs. She clasped her laptop and climbed the steps.

She moved slowly, with trepidation. The police wanted to talk to her about Vaclav Pokorny’s death, but Mila had assured Anne that the policeman, Harrigan, was not there.

Anne had a key, but did not use it. As she reached for the knocker, the door opened.

A woman stood in the doorway.

Anne gasped. She was looking in a “mirror.” This person could be her twin.

Anne recovered quickly as she registered the differences. The woman had a black eye, was slightly shorter, had lower cheekbones, a more upturned nose and was a bit heavier.

Anne found her voice.

“I’m Anne Simek, I expected to see Mila. Where is she?”

“Hello Anne. I’m Aileen Harris, Mila’s upstairs. She ...”

Aileen did not finish. Mila burst down the steps and wrapped Anne in a huge hug.

“Anne, thank God. I’ve been worried sick.”

The rest of Anne’s reunion with her cousin was personal. She and Mila huddled together at the kitchen table. They spoke in low tones.

Peter Zeleny left for a walk on the beach. Aileen, after stating her desire to return to Maryland, descended to the mid level to shower.

By the time that Aileen, bright and freshly combed, came back up, Anne had retired to a chair on the side deck. Mila sat alone. Aileen joined her.

Mila spoke.

“Aileen, do you think you should go back to Maryland? They know about Ryan Associates. You’re no safer there than here.”

“My daughter needs me. And I need to see Jeannine. She may know how to access the chip that Vaclav left with Anne. Safe or not, I have to go back.”

“What about Peter?”

“I won’t have him with me, but if you think Anne would be better with us in Maryland, she’s welcome.”

Mila thought for a moment.

“She’d better go with you. If she stays here, the Currituck County Sheriff might keep her as a material witness. Jim Harrigan wouldn’t be able to stop him. Besides, Jim is a cop. He might not want to stop him. He probably agrees with the sheriff.”

“But will Anne come with me?”

“I already talked to her. She wants to. She’s better off away from the local police, and she’s leery about Jim Harrigan being here.”

“Where is Jim now?”

“He’s in Nags Head. I’m meeting him for lunch, then we’re going to my house to pick up some of my clothes. Jim has agreed to stay with me here in Corolla. I’ll be safe with him around.”

“What about when he’s at work?”

Mila pointed to a shiny short-barreled .38 Smith & Wesson revolver lying on the table. It had five chambers.

“Jim loaned me this. He’s teaching me to shoot.”

Mila looked at her watch.

“Aileen, I have to go now. Jim will be waiting for me. I know Anne wants to be gone before Jim and I come back. I’m glad we met.”

“Me too. We’ll keep you posted.”

One last hug, then Mila left.

Peter Zeleny was frustrated. Aileen Harris wanted nothing to do with him.

“Peter, I told you. I’m going back to Maryland. I need to take care of my daughter, and no, you can not come back with me. I need to be alone.”

“But Aileen, we are on the same side?”

“So you say, but your father is not. Anne Simek is following me in her car. Maybe she’ll let you ride with her.”

Anne piped up.

“What’s this? A Zeleny wants a ride from a Simek?”

“Yes, I need a ride.”

“But what would your father say?”

“Please. I am not my father.”

Anne turned away. She held out her hand to Aileen.

“Here’s Vaclav’s chip from my laptop. It’s password-protected. Maybe you folks can access the files.”

She turned back to Peter.

“Dr. Zeleny, grab your coat. You can ride with me.”

Scot Henderson was a Special Agent for the Fish and Wildlife Service charged with law enforcement. Today, he drove along Sawyer Lake road in the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge in North Carolina. He was investigating a report that a Red Wolf had been shot the night before.

The Red Wolf, an endangered species had been introduced into the refuge in 1987.

Scot drove slowly, his eyes on the road’s shoulder to his right.

A flash of russet in the roadside weeds caught his eye. He stopped and stepped out of his vehicle. He trudged through the dead plants. The decaying body of a Canid lay at his feet.

It was a Red Wolf.

Scot saw that the animal had been dead for several days. This was not the wolf killed yesterday. Somewhere ahead was another carcass. He resolved to stop the carnage.

Gustav led the way along an unpaved road in the wildlife refuge. Johan followed in the Excursion. He drove slowly. With two bodies under a tarp in the back, he did not want to be stopped by the police.

Johan was afraid of Gustav. He hoped that Gustav would forgive his son.

Peter, you never should have struck Gustav.

In the midst of these thoughts, flashing red and blue lights appeared in Johan’s rear view mirror. A policeman in an SUV was signaling him to stop. Johan looked ahead. Gustav had just rounded a bend in the road. He was out of sight.

Johan pressed the brake.

When the Ford Excursion stopped in front of him, Scot Henderson stayed in his car. He had dealt with poachers before. They were always armed. He called park headquarters with his location and the license number of the vehicle that he had stopped.

Only then did he open the door, unsnap the strap on his holster, and step out.

Scot did not like the driver’s looks. Could he be the poacher? He was glad to have an excuse to stop this car. He tapped on the window.

“Sir, your right brake light is out. May I see your driver’s license”

Johan lowered the window, but before he could speak, Scot had drawn his gun.

Johan stared. A 9 mm Glock was only inches from his nose..

“Sir, keep your hands where I can see them and step out of the car. Now!”

Scot took a step backwards as Johan opened the door.

“Sir put your hands on the car.”

Johan obeyed.

Moments later, hands secured behind his back, he spoke for the first time.

“I’ve done nothing. Why the handcuffs?”

Scot scowled and pointed to the back seat of the Excursion where the barrels of two AK-47’s protruded from under a bloodstained blanket.

“Sir, are those yours?”

Johan’s mouth went dry.

He could not answer.

When Johan failed to appear around the bend in the road, Gustav stopped his car and went back on foot. Standing behind a pine tree, he watched the drama enacted by the policeman and Johan.

If the policeman found the two bodies, Johan would be arrested, unless Gustav intervened.

He fingered his Makarov.

Perhaps?

Gustav hesitated, but then another police vehicle, lights flashing red and blue, arrived at the scene.

The odds were wrong now. Johan would have to take care of himself.

Gustav returned to his car as a beep on his phone signaled the arrival of a text.

He read it. The Americans had retrieved the package. Ivana was safe.

A last glance through the trees as his former partner was led by the police to their vehicle.

Sorry, old comrade.

It was time to return to Europe!

Scot Henderson opened the back of the Ford Excursion and lifted the tarp.

He gasped.

“What the hell!”

The bloody remains were not Red Wolves.

They were human!

In Chesapeake, Virginia, it was mid afternoon when Aileen Harris, Anne Simek and Peter Zeleny stopped to eat at a Thai restaurant off of Route 168.

The three sat together, but Aileen refused to acknowledge Peter. She concentrated on a bowl of flat rice noodles swimming in a colorful mix of garlic, and assorted vegetables.

“Anne, this is really good. How is yours?”

“Excellent, the curry picks it up. What about yours, Peter?”

“Mine’s not bad. Aileen’s looks better.”

Peter glanced sideways at Aileen to see if she had heard him,

But her eyes were fixed on the large television that dominated the dining area. A red “Breaking News Alert” was on the screen.

Aileen pointed.

“That’s the gray Ford Excursion that followed us from Bethesda!”

But Peter’s eyes were on the man slouched by the vehicle. He was handcuffed and his face was blurred to prevent identification. Still, Peter knew him.

“That’s my father! My God, what has he done?”

Peter stood up.

“I have to go back. I have to see him.”

Anne looked as Peter’s cheeks paled and his lower lip quivered. She rose from the table.

“Peter, I’ll take you back to North Carolina.”

Aileen stayed seated.

Only minutes later, Aileen and Anne Simek said their good byes outside the Thai restaurant.

“Anne, I hope you know what you are doing?”

“Peter has to see his father.”

“His father is a horrible old man.”

“We Simek’s have more reason to hate him than anyone. But times are different now and Peter is not his father. Peter needs to go. He has to get free of him.”

“You’re a better person that I am.”

Anne smiled.

“I doubt it. But I know what bitterness did to my own father. Justified or not, it possesses and destroys whoever has it.”

“What about you? The police are waiting to interrogate you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I have nothing to hide. I’ll survive.”

“Anne, I hardly know you, but you are getting one big hug.”

They embraced.

Moments later Anne headed south on Route 168.

Aileen headed north. She looked in the rear view mirror. The lane to the south already was empty.

Anne’s Focus was out of sight.