Athens Affair, page 11
Jasmine clung to him as he steadied the bike on the pavement.
Ace briefly glanced upward.
Headlights glared further up the hill, coming down fast.
The truck stretched across the road would slow them down, hopefully long enough for them to reach Athens and blend into the city traffic.
Ace followed Jon’s taillight, racing down the winding road to where it intersected with the highway leading back into Athens.
Jon turned toward Athens.
Having no idea where the man was leading them, Ace followed. Since Hank had sent him, he trusted the man. He’d gotten them out of the compound alive; he had to have a plan to keep them alive.
Thank God for Hank and his network of friends that extended beyond the United States.
As they neared the city, traffic thickened. Jon weaved in and out of the stream of vehicles. Ace kept up, feeling more confident of the machine beneath him with each passing mile.
When Jon left the main road, Ace followed.
They zigzagged through a residential area into a more run-down district of older commercial buildings that had seen better days.
Jon slowed in front of what appeared to be an auto repair shop. The overhead door rolled up automatically as Jon approached. He drove in and parked his motorcycle beside an older model car.
Ace drove in and stopped beside him.
The overhead door lowered. As it touched the ground, lights blinked on inside the garage.
Jon dismounted and brought his bike up onto its stand.
Jasmine slipped off the back of the motorcycle, and Ace swung his leg over, pulled the bike backward onto its stand and straightened.
Jasmine stood behind Ace, holding the satchel close to her body, her eyes narrowing.
Jon grinned and extended a hand to Ace. “Fearghas Gordon,” he said, his accent completely different from the one he’d used during the poker game. With the way he rolled his Rs, he sounded... Scottish. “And you must be The Hammer. As I briefly mentioned, Hank sent me.”
Ace grimaced at the call sign he’d used as a member of his SEAL team. He gripped the man’s hand. “Ace Hammerson. Thanks for getting us out of the compound.”
“You’re quite welcome,” he said. “It was a wee bit of a challenge, but we made it.”
Jasmine’s brow dipped lower. “You’re not from the US.”
Jon nodded. “No, I’m not. Born and raised in Scotland.”
Ace dropped the man’s hand, a smile pulling at his lips. “You fooled me. How do you know Hank?”
“We met on a joint mission between the SAS and the US Navy SEALS. He saved my arse from the Taliban. I owe that man.”
“Sounds like Hank,” Ace said. “Are you still with the SAS?”
Fearghas’s smile disappeared, and he shook his head. “No. I tired of the politics and left a couple of years ago. I’ve been living the life of an ex-pat here in Athens ever since. As you know, when you’re a member of special forces, you have little time to spend the money you make. What I saved, I invested wisely. It allows me to live my life the way I want. When I get bored, I take on freelance work, similar to what Hank’s organization does.”
“Security, rescue, bodyguard?” Ace filled in the blanks.
Fearghas nodded. “I’ve been following Hank since he left the Navy SEALs. I must say, I’m impressed with what he’s done. The Brotherhood Protectors is getting quite the reputation. I’m surprised he hasn’t established an office in Europe.”
“I imagine it’s only a matter of time,” Ace said.
Fearghas nodded. “Likely so. When I left the SAS, he asked me to join him. At that time, I wasn’t ready. But I must admit, getting you out of the compound was a challenge. The kind of challenge I miss from my days in the SAS. I might reconsider his offer.”
Fearghas clapped his hands together. “Now, where are my manners?” He turned to Jasmine. “Miss Nassar, tis a pleasure to meet you. I believe I’ve met my match in poker.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know who I am.”
He nodded. “Hank filled me in. Jasmine Nassar, former Sayeret Matkal before you were ousted for sharing secrets with an American, from what he said. One of your own blew the whistle on you after your vacation in Athens four years ago. From what Hank’s computer guy said, they could never come up with enough evidence to prove it, but they let you go anyway.”
Ace’s gaze met Jasmine’s. “Is that what happened? Is that the reason you were released from Sayeret Matkal?”
She shook her head. “That was an excuse. I was the real reason I was released. I was in line for a promotion. My commander didn’t like the idea of a woman being in charge of the unit. He blamed me for a leak in information that led to a botched mission he was responsible for. I took the fall; he got the promotion.”
“That sucks,” Ace said.
Jasmine shrugged. “It didn’t matter. I needed to get out at that time.”
Fearghas nodded toward the satchel looped over Jasmine’s shoulder. “I assume you retrieved the copper scroll?”
She nodded, her hand tightening around the satchel’s strap.
“It must be important for multiple factions to want to steal and kill for it,” Fearghas said.
“Jasmine was forced to steal it as a ransom for her small son,” Ace said.
Fearghas frowned. “And you still have no idea who has your son?”
Jasmine sighed. “No. They left a burner phone with my housekeeper when they took my son. I’m to wait for a call to arrange for the trade. I had forty-eight hours to retrieve the scroll from the time they called me the first time with their demands.” She glanced down at her watch. “If they wait the entire forty-eight hours to contact me, I have less than twenty hours left to keep it safe.”
“A lot can happen in twenty hours,” Fearghas said.
“I know.” Jasmine’s lips pressed together. “Especially since we know Demopoulos wants it.”
Fearghas’s brow creased. “And he owns the city.”
“And he’s probably pissed that we took it,” Ace said. “Why did you bring us back to Athens?”
Fearghas shrugged. “Demopoulos doesn’t own everyone in the city. I have some contacts that could get us out should the need arise. And it can be easier to hide in a city of over three million people than in the country where everyone knows when strangers pass through.”
Jasmine turned to Ace. “Christos mentioned his father became interested in ancient Egyptian artifacts when he went with a friend on an archeological dig in a king’s tomb. Apparently, the king had hidden a treasure. He dispersed clues in the form of gifts to leaders in different locations throughout his kingdom. One of those gifts was a mosaic with an image of Horace giving the king a scroll. That scroll was passed to a priest who lived near the Dead Sea. He was tasked with preserving the scroll.”
“You think the scroll was one of the gifts?” Ace asked.
Fearghas’s brow twisted. “The Dead Sea scrolls?”
Jasmine’s lips pressed together. “The Dead Sea scrolls are said to contain messages about treasures. The copper scroll dates back to 65 AD,” Jasmine said. “The king’s tomb dates back almost a thousand years earlier.”
“If the priest was tasked with preserving the scroll, he could’ve passed that task down to his successors,” Ace said.
“Scrolls fade,” Jasmine said.
“The successors could have transcribed the messages, thus preserving them,” Fearghas offered.
Jasmine nodded. “And the copper scroll could’ve been the medium they chose to ensure the preservation of the messages.”
“Tis all supposition,” Fearghas said. “It would help if we could ask Athanasios why he needed the copper scroll.”
Jasmine snorted. “That’s not an option.”
“Did Christos mention the name of his father’s friend?” Ace asked.
Jasmine’s gaze met Ace’s. “If we could find that friend, he might be able to shed light on Demopoulos’s need for the scroll. He might also know who would’ve taken my son.”
Ace’s hands curled into fists. “He might be the one who took your son.”
Jasmine pressed a palm to her chest. “It would be too obvious, but I had the same thought. Christos said the name of that friend was Louis...” Her brow furrowed. “Bertolli or Bertolini. I was too busy looking for the scroll. I should’ve remembered.”
“That might be enough of a name for Hank’s computer guy to look him up,” Ace said.
“This Louis Bertolli and Athanasios Demopoulos could be in competition to get to the treasure first,” Fearghas said. “Which puts you and the scroll in the middle of it.”
Jasmine nodded.
Ace pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Maybe Swede can figure that out.”
“In the meantime, Demopoulos will be eager to get that scroll back,” Fearghas said.
“If he knows who coerced me into stealing it in the first place, he’ll know where that man lives.” Jasmine’s face paled. “He has one step up on us.”
Ace nodded. “Demopoulos might be on his way to that person to take the scroll from him or to intercept you before you can make that trade for your son.”
“Tell your friend Swede to hurry,” Jasmine said.
Ace selected the number and pressed the phone to his ear.
Swede answered on the second ring. “Dude, I assume you made it out of the compound all right.”
“Thanks to Hank for sending backup.”
Swede chuckled. “I assume you met Gordon?”
Ace’s gaze went to Fearghas. “I did.”
“And all of you made it out all right and are safe?”
Ace nodded. “We did, and we are. I’m putting you on speaker with Fearghas Gordon and Jasmine Nassar.” He pressed the button and held the phone out for the others to hear.
“Did you retrieve the artifact?” Swede asked.
“We did,” Ace answered.
“I’m glad you made it out of there. I look forward to hearing the story,” Swede said. “I saw that emergency services were sent to one of Demopoulos’s warehouses in Athens due to an explosion earlier today. Was that you, Fearghas?”
Fearghas grinned. “It provided a good distraction, allowing me to borrow one of Demopoulos’s trucks for a joy ride.”
“How did you manage to get them out of the compound?” Swede asked.
Fearghas’s gaze met Ace’s. “I loaded a couple of motorcycles into the back of the truck and drove it out to the compound, stopping short of the gate. I unloaded the bikes, then drove the truck through the gate.” He grinned. “It seemed appropriate to sacrifice one of Demopoulos’s trucks to help retrieve what he’d stolen to begin with.”
Swede chuckled. “Well done.”
“Swede, with Demopoulos eager to get the scroll back, we might not have much time,” Ace said. “We need you to look up a Louis Bertolli or Bertolini. He was or is a friend of Demopoulos’s who got him interested in Egyptian artifacts to begin with. We think he might be the other person interested in acquiring that scroll.”
“He might be the one holding my son hostage,” Jasmine said.
“Louis Bertolli or Bertolini,” Swede said. “Got it. Do you have a place to lay low while I research this?”
Ace’s gaze went to Fearghas.
“They’re at my place in Athens,” Fearghas said. “Not many people know my place even exists. Hopefully, they’ll be safe for a while.”
“I’ll get back with you ASAP,” Swede said. “Out here.”
Ace ended the call and pocketed his phone. He looked at Jasmine. “What now?”
She shook her head and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “I want to get my contact working on it as well. He might know people who know Demopoulos.”
She selected a number and pressed her phone to her ear, her gaze meeting Ace’s. “All I know is that Demopoulos is going to be furious when he realizes that scroll is missing.”
Ace nodded. The Greek crime boss would have all his people looking for them at the airports, seaports, and train stations. If they’d thought it was difficult to get out of Jordan, it would be even more challenging to leave Athens.
His gaze rested on the woman who’d turned his world upside down four years ago. He’d spent years looking for her. His jaw hardened. Now that he’d found her, he couldn’t lose her again.
Chapter 10
Jasmine paced the garage floor with her phone pressed to her ear as it rang. “We need more information,” she murmured aloud. “We can’t wait for Swede to search the internet to find who is in competition with Demopoulos.”
“Moya lyubov, yak spravy?” he answered on the first ring.
She answered in Ukrainian, “I am well.”
“Did you get it?” he asked.
“We did,” she said. “It all went according to your plan.”
He chuckled. “I understand you had some plans of your own. My source said the dealer had to do very little for you to win that game.”
“Then luck must have been on my side.”
“He also said that Demopoulos’s people are looking for the Italian heiress Francesca and her bodyguard. They’re questioning all involved, including all the players.”
Jasmine’s gaze went to Ace and Fearghas.
“If you’re not out of Athens, you might want to get out quickly,” Dmytro warned. “If my casino source is discovered, he might be forced to point me out. I sent my wife and daughter to Switzerland on vacation. They left on the last commercial flight out of Athens.”
“I’m so sorry, Dmytro. I didn’t mean to bring this down on you and your family,” Jasmine said. “And, though I hate to ask, I need one more favor from you, Dmytro.”
“It is okay,” he said. “I understand. My wife and daughter agreed that it is more important that you get your son back. Now, what is it you need me to do?”
“Athanasios Demopoulos was on an archeological dig a couple of years ago with a man named Louis Bertolli or Bertolini. I need to know if he’s as interested in the copper scroll as Demopoulos.”
“Do you think this man might be the one who took your son?”
“Maybe. And if he is, Demopoulos knows I’ll be taking that scroll to trade for my boy.”
“He’ll try to intercept you before you can make that trade,” Dmytro concluded. “I’ll see what I can find out before I leave to join my family.”
“I thought you said your family left on the last flight out?”
Dmytro snorted. “Who said I was flying commercial? I have my own helicopter and earned my pilot’s license years ago.”
Jasmine shook her head. “You are a man of many talents, Dmytro. I’m proud to call you my friend.”
“You are a good person, Jasmine. You don’t deserve to lose your son. If there’s anything else I can do to help, I will.”
Jasmine’s heart swelled with her love for this man and his family. “Thank you.”
“It’s not safe in Athens,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “I’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest with the Greek crime organization.”
“Get out as soon as you can,” he said and ended the call.
Jasmine slid her cell phone into her pocket and met Ace’s gaze. “Demopoulos is looking for Francesca and you.” Her gaze shifted to Fearghas. “He’s also looking for the players at the game for questioning. My contact sent his wife and daughter on vacation to Switzerland to keep them safe. He will ask around about Louis Bertolli and see what he can learn, but then he’s leaving Athens as well.”
Ace nodded. “With Demopoulos’s people out looking for us, there’s no use in trying to get out of Athens until we know where we’re going.”
“You might as well get comfortable,” Fearghas said. “You can shower, sleep and eat. My refrigerator is stocked.”
“This is where you live?” Jasmine asked, looking around the garage.
Fearghas smiled. “My living quarters are upstairs. The garage is a good cover. No one knows that there’s an apartment above it. You both are more than welcome to make yourselves at home.”
“I don’t know if I could sleep,” Jasmine said, “but it would be nice to take a shower.”
Fearghas led them up a set of rusty-looking stairs to an ugly metal door. He produced a key from his pocket, unlocked the door and held it open for them to enter.
Jasmine stepped into what appeared to be a closet or very small office with a metal desk and an old metal chair.
Fearghas stepped in behind them and pulled the door closed,
“I don’t understand,” Jasmine said, looking around the small, cramped room.
Fearghas grinned. “Hold on.” He locked the door from the inside, then squeezed around Jasmine and Ace. He grabbed the string hanging from the ceiling and pulled it once. The light switched on. He pulled it a second time, and a panel on the wall slid to the side, exposing the room beyond.
Fearghas stepped to the side and waved an arm. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
The contrast between the garage below and the room in front of her left Jasmine speechless.
Ace grinned and stepped into the room. “I never expected this.”
“Precisely,” Fearghas said. “It’s my own little oasis. Only I and a few select people know of its existence.”
“Are you hiding from someone?” Jasmine asked.
Fearghas shrugged. “When you’re in the freelance security business, you never know who you’re going make an enemy of.”
Jasmine’s lips tightened. “Or who will do anything to get you to do their dirty work for them.”
Fearghas nodded. “I like doing my jobs and then disappearing. If I want to be found, I make myself findable. Just not here. This is my safe house.”
“What about the workers who helped build this,” Ace asked. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll reveal your location?”
“For the first year or so after I left the SAS, this is what I did.” He spread his arms wide, encompassing the room and all its décor.
“You did this?” Jasmine asked, nodding at the tile on the floor.
“You’d be amazed at what you can find on the internet. If I didn’t know how to do something, I learned by watching videos. Once I had this place the way I wanted it, I ran out of things to do. That’s when I picked up freelance work.”
