Crate of Lies, page 27
In one quick step as Prewit lowered the Kalashnikov to cover Raithe, Harry barged into Raithe and sent him falling into the water. Liebermann fired but missed in the dark while Prewit, momentarily confused, fired several short bursts into the water.
"The water this time of year will kill him," snarled Liebermann.
Harry stepped down onto a float. "I can't climb the ladder into the plane with my hands tied."
"You're not travelling first class Harry," said Liebermann. "Prewit, stop looking in the water. Ravelle will be dead shortly. Tie our friend to the bottom of the wing strut." He waved at Harry. "At least you get a great seat, Harry. I will enjoy watching you disappear into the depths."
A barrage of shots came from the warehouse area as Prewit looped a cord through the handcuffs and around the strut.
"Come on," shouted Liebermann from the cabin. "They'll be on us shortly. Untie us and get out of here."
Prewit scrambled across the decking and released the painter. He looked down at Harry as he climbed into the plane and grinned. The cabin door banged shut after him, leaving Harry sitting on the float facing the fuselage. As the engine whirred, he felt something pull at his toes.
"Harry, I'm going to cut you free. Keep hold of the strut." Raithe's head appeared out of the water and under the fuselage the other side of the float. His body and hands shook. "I can't last much longer, Harry. I'm going to climb up and sit next to you."
"You left things almost too late, dear boy." Harry waited for the Swiss knife to release his hands from the strut. "Prewit is an idiot. Feel around my left ankle. There's another Berretta."
A high pitched whine came from the turbo engine as it started. Raithe pulled himself up onto the float with the semi-automatic in hand. From his position he could see the back of Prewit's chair. He sat on the float and reached across to the middle under belly locker. Unclipping the two latches, he gave the thumbs up signal. "If we crash the crates will fall out. If we don't there's a good chance they will fall out anyway."
The plane moved forward out into the lake, gathering speed. From the bank the sound of more shots echoed as the autumn sky lightened to an inky blue.
"When he starts his run I'll stand and shoot," shouted Raithe above the roar of the engine. "Maybe our weight on one side might tip him over. If we do take a dive, we jump together and I can swim and support you."
The plane slowed and turned.
Harry nodded. "I'm not afraid of you saving me," he shouted back. "I just don't like the cold water."
The high pitched scream from the turbo engine increased and the plane gathered speed. Raithe grabbed a strut and pulled himself up. Water sprayed into his eyes making it hard to see into the cabin. Holding on with one hand, he took aim at the cabin window and fired twice. Nothing happened. Desperate, he fired again as the plane skimmed the surface and started to lift clear of the water. Prewit's head slumped forward. The plane's response was immediate. It climbed above the treeline and then banked sharply to port, its nose dipping.
Raithe clung to the strut as his feet left the float. Suspended, he watched Harry fall while two crates slid from the locker and plummeted into the lake. Raithe let go his hold and dropped. There was a loud crash as the plane hit the water ahead of him and cartwheeled into a small fishing boat tied to a buoy. Seconds later, and near to losing consciousness, he looked about him anxiously for Harry.
"Harry, Harry, over here. Harry!"
"Okay buddy, we got ya," were the last words Raithe heard as two hands pulled him out of the freezing water.
CHAPTER FORTY
"I thought I would take you to see the Amber Room before we fly back to London." Harry put an arm around Raithe's shoulder as they left the Seattle hospital. "Dear boy, you were magnificent and I owe you a much needed holiday. We have managed help the Americans get their rockets back and Jerusalem are saying it was a great joint exercise, blah blah."
They climbed into a taxi. "Two days in hospital and you still haven't told me the whole story," said Raithe. "What happened to Liebermann?"
"No idea. He's not surfaced yet."
Raithe looked at Harry and they both laughed. "Excuse the pun. The divers only recovered Wainright, Prewit and one rocket and launcher. Of Liebermann there was no sign. I'm sure his body is going to show up soon as will the other missing rocket. The FBI also arrested the hot heads that turned up and I understand most of Wainright's board are under arrest too."
"So you found the 'cavern' as Prewit called it?"
"Yes," replied Harry. "Although I have a feeling you will be shocked and thrilled at the same time. With regards the cavern, Rienicke's skeletal remains were inside a glass case in the middle of the cavern surrounded by candles. It was a macabre sight. The idiots worshiped him."
Minutes later, the taxi pulled up outside the Seattle Art Museum. A young woman met them at the entrance. Harry introduced her. "Raithe, this is Claudette Nesbit, the assistant curator. She will show us the contents of the crates we discovered. For obvious reasons the find is being kept secret and moved to the National Archives in D.C. tomorrow. Everything is being repacked for the journey."
A lift took them down into the basement. At the end of a short corridor they walked into a large room. Against one wall were several crates and along the other ten paintings stood inside new crates waiting for the final layer of packing and lids.
Raithe looked at the paintings and then Claudette. "I take these are from the Amber Room but I don't see any panels."
"These are great Russian paintings that have been missing since the war. Originally they hung inside the Amber Room before the Nazis looted the Winter Palace and moved it to Konigsberg. The panels are not here. This is all that came from Idaho." She smiled and clasped her hands with excitement. "What you found are priceless works of art that are just as important as the room." She walked along the paintings, pointing to several. Pine Trees Above the Gorge by Ivan Shishkin, Turbulent Seas by Ivan Aivazovsky and look at this, Blind Poor People at a Market in Ukraine by Vladimir Makovsky. I think both of you deserve a lot of praise."
Raithe admired the paintings. "These are wonderful although I am disappointed. I really thought we found the Amber."
Harry waggled a finger in the air. "Look at the crates and all will be explained." They turned. "Now how many are there?"
"Ten…so where are the other eight?"
"They are probably buried in another pit along with ten others or destroyed by the RAF as believed all along. The answer lies with one label still attached to one of these crates," said Harry. "Come and see."
They walked up to a large crate and Harry took a card from his pocket. "You remember this number? 1K121127P1411. Fritz Dieter explained its significance and how the system worked but he also explained no-one but a few knew what was in each shipment. All he knew was how many shipments belonged in a group or if there was just one single shipment so the first number denotes what shipment is in the train, whether first, second, third and so on. Now take a look at the label on the crate."
"We know it should be the second train," answered Raithe. "Reinecke told Dieter he would be on the second train." He placed a finger on the label. "Damn, Harry. This says 3K etcetera." He turned, puzzled.
"A simple answer to the riddle," explained Harry. "We knew there were three trains. The one that blew up carrying the 247 case you rescued from Liebermann two years ago and then the one that carried the Amber Room panels…so we thought, they were in the pit. Why did we think that? Because the word amber was written next to the location longitude and latitude."
Raithe rubbed his chin. "There were twenty eight-numbers in two groups. The eighteen were the amber panels and the ten were these paintings."
"Which means," broke in Claudette, "there are two possibilities as to the whereabouts of the Amber: Either they got away on the second or third train and are also buried somewhere or they really did burn in the Konigsberg castle fire in 1944."
Raithe snapped his fingers. "I've got it. Claudette's right. If Reinecke wrote the location of the ten paintings listed in the 247 crate on train one then he must have listed the location of the panels inside one of the other two 247 crates on train two or three. In other words, the three trains carried artefacts and mirrors, paintings, and the amber panels and it didn't matter what order each set of crates came in as long as Rienicke's burial location instructions were carried out. Obviously, Rienecke planned to have everything dug up and smuggled out of Germany ready for him to assemble in his new HQ for the Fourth Reich. Now the question is did the other two loads also end up in America?"
Harry raised both hands in the air. "Enough Raithe, let's go home," He laughed. "I've had enough coffee. I want a nice cup of tea."
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
"The Prime Minister announced in the House today that diplomatic relations between Russia, the USA, Britain and Israel are at an all-time high following the joint military operation in Syria that resulted in the defeat of the Palestinian Freedom Fighters. The Syrian Foreign Minister will be meeting the Prime Minister and the Joint Chiefs of Staff at Number 10 for further talks on security in the region before flying on to Moscow to meet Russian President Zhukov. In a radio address from Moscow today, Zhukov announced a crackdown on government corruption after last week's sudden resignation of Foreign Minister Koblinkov. The President also promised more co-operation in bringing all those accused of 'crimes against humanity' to justice. "Russia is no longer tolerating those who would abuse diplomatic ties to find safe haven here," he was quoted as saying as Bosnian President Mikulic was flown from Moscow to the Hague to face charges of genocide."
Harry flicked the switch and changed channels. Yesterday's news was no longer interesting.
The telephone rang. Mary's head appeared around the door. She pointed to the telephone and raised her eyebrows. "General Zalesky, Harry."
Harry grabbed the phone. "Good morning, General. I hope you are well."
"Harry, the sun is shining on Red Square today. I am sure you are feeling just as good as I am. It is a shame you failed to find the Amber Room. My sources tell me that you did find the paintings that belong with it though."
Cigar smoke curled up slowly above Harry's head. "Your sources are wrong, General. You have to take the American President's word for that. You break your promise and the room will disappear for ever."
The General laughed. "Okay, Harry. You play the game whatever way you like and by the same set of rules you must take my word that I will not share the Americans' secret to the Chinese…or maybe the North Koreans. For the moment we are keeping your secret to ourselves unless Washington fails to deliver the aid agreed to at the peace summit."
"What secret are you talking about?"
"Oh, I'm sorry Harry. I thought you knew. A Mr Wainright was good enough to send a small present to us at our Berlin embassy along with a note. He expressed his fears that terrorists and the U.S. were destabilising the military balance of power and wished that the Kremlin help put that right."
Harry thumped the desk. Wainright had taken two rockets from the train. Only one had ended up in the lake.
"You see, Harry," continued the General, "your taped conversation not only told us about the Amber Room but more importantly warned us you were closing in on Wainright. Liebermann already worked for him so it was easy to use him to slow you down. Wainright was a clever man. Forewarned, he separated my present from the other crates in Prague at the railway yard and delivered it by another route." The General cleared his throat and chuckled. "Harry at least I thank you for helping me get rid of a corrupt minister and sending a criminal to the Hague. The world is grateful to us as the Kremlin is to you, Harry and I want you to know we will look after this present and will not be sharing it with anyone for at least two years. Then Washington can have it back as we will have some of our own. We'll send it back the same way it came to us…through FedEx…a most trusted American company."
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ray Stone is an accomplished author with a variety of published works to his name. Born just outside London in 1946, he grew up in post war Britain during a period of depression and ration books, bombed out housing and BBC radio. At school he won a writing competition at the age of eleven and later in his teens went on to widen his interest in the arts.
At the age of eighteen he began writing poetry and lyrics whilst studying at college. Two years later Ray worked in theatre as a technician with many orchestras’ and artists including the London Philharmonic, London Symphony, Mantovani, The original Doyle Carte Opera Company, Harlequin Ballet, Joan Baez, Jimmy Hendrix, Oscar Peterson and worked on local shows such as My Fair Lady, Camelot and West Side Story.
His poetry won him first place in 1998 in an international internet poetry competition with ‘Angry Silence.’ Moving to Colchester in the same year he wrote a full page article about the historical significance of the locale and was published with a by-line in the local press. Whilst writing his first novel Ray returned to writing lyrics and teamed up with a local composer. Together they produced and recorded five blues numbers.
A book of poetry and lyrics, Life over a cup of Tea, was published in 2011. Ray’s first novel, ‘THE TROJAN TOWERS,’ was published in 2005. A second political thriller, the first of the Enda Osin Mysteries, ‘ISIA’S SECRET,’ was published in September 2013. The next in the Osin series, ‘TWISTED WIRE,‘ was published in September 2014 and became a Finalist in the East Texas Writers Guild Book Awards ‘First Chapter’ competition. This year, 2015, Ray has published a follow on to The Trojan Towers, a chase thriller entitled ‘CRATE OF LIES.’ The next in the Enda Osin series will be published in 2016. All of his works are available in E version, print, and shortly on audio too.
Ray’s favourite authors are Charles Dickens, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Neville Shute, Alistair Maclean, C.S.Forrester, Len Deighton, Daniel Silva, Ernest Hemingway – and the list goes on.
Ray Stone has lived in and around London’s colourful EastEnd and the café sets of Westminster and Kensington. Rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous-and infamous he has acquired a unique insight into the lives of both criminal and upper classes that give his works a believable realism. Ray moved to the USA in 2003 and married. He has since retired from a successful landscape design business and now lives on Cyprus with his wife and fellow author, Mrellan Harahan.
Ray’s web address – http://www.raystoneauthor.co.uk/
Please visit my website and author pages:
Sample chapters from all my novels and additional writings are available on my website
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Discover other titles by Ray Stone at Amazon.com:
TWISTED WIRE
He was the last person anyone
would suspect was a spy.
An Enda Osin Mystery - Book 2
Enda Osin cannot resist political intrigue. A mole inside MI5 draws him into industrial espionage involving an EU bid to beat the Americans into producing a hyper-speed aircraft. Caught up in a dangerous Russian plot involving a cell of spies, he realises he’s been duped and is helping the Russians produce the same craft while causing a disaster that will endanger lives. With beautiful wife, Jessica Du Ross and ‘Fish,’ his assistant, Enda has just hours to expose the Russians and help the US fly hyper speed first.
FINALIST - East Texas Writers Guild Book Awards
Buy Twisted Wire on Amazon.com
ISIA'S SECRET
A story of greed and thirst for political power,
double dealing, and a tragic love affair
that spawns murderous revenge.
An Enda Osin Mystery - Book 1
Correspondent Enda Osin and assistant Jessica must foil Paul Hrisacopolis' twisted political dream for Cypriot Sovereignty if Isia's secret is kept safe. With an influential position beckoning in the EU, Paul has an heir with hatred in his heart, seeking revenge. While Enda struggles to end the nightmare, he unfolds the tragic tale of two women living lives of poverty, and a murderous grandson.
Buy Isia's Secret on Amazon.com
THE TROJAN TOWERS
- a powerful chase thriller.
Harry Cohen, London desk for Mossad, must retrieve a priceless icon—crucial to the success of a secret Middle Eastern peace deal brokered by America and the Russians—that's been stolen by a ruthless mercenary. Harry knows who can steal it back. A convict, whose daughter, Natalie, he has mentored. Raithe Ravelle, a professional thief released on appeal and with a score to settle, reluctantly agrees to help Natalie's benefactor. Both men embark on a daring robbery but are soon thrown into a race against time as Natalie is kidnapped. They must find a way to stop a Middle East crisis and rescue Natalie. In a breathtaking roller coaster ride through London, Zurich, Amsterdam, and finally to deserted wartime forts in the River Thames, they are involved in a life-and-death struggle to reach the frightened teenager-and the treasure in THE TROJAN TOWERS.
Buy The Trojan Towers on Amazon.com
Ray Stone, Crate of Lies
