The Emperor's Revenge

FORTY-SEVEN

As their SUV crawled through the center of Lithuania’s largest city, Golov could barely contain his excitement at the possibility of seeing the fabled treasure Napoleon had spirited out of Moscow during his retreat. Normally, he wouldn’t come along on a shore mission like this, but he wanted to lay eyes on the Russian hoard before it was destroyed forever.

Much of the seven-hundred-year-old city was a winding jumble of cobblestone streets flanked by quaint row houses that were topped with red tiles, but the area where they drove teemed with modern skyscrapers and smooth asphalt roads. It was nearly the end of the workday, and traffic was at its worst. But even if they were late, Golov was quite sure that the person they were meeting would wait.

He, Sirkal, O’Connor, and two of their former Special Forces mercenaries had arrived in Vilnius just a day after the assassination of Marie Marceau. The deception had been conceived by his daughter.

They’d had the three missing pages from Napoleon’s Diary for over a month, thanks to Maxim Antonovich’s purchase from an underground rare-documents dealer, the same one who’d sold them Polichev’s mathematical formulas a year ago that had set the Dynamo plan in motion. They’d known about the treasure and Napoleon’s St. Helena kidnapping from Delacroix’s letter, but the location of the loot had been a mystery until the pages showed up. By then, the operation to steal the diary and column from the auction in Malta were well under way, so Golov, at the time, thought that finding the treasure himself just to get rid of it was superfluous and would expose them to unnecessary risk.

He did, however, know where it was, courtesy of those three pages Napoleon had taken with him when he escaped exile. He pictured them in his mind, completely intact and pristine.

The images Ivana had loaded onto Marceau’s phone had been digitally altered with the information they wanted the Oregon crew to have. Although most of the emails were, in fact, unaltered messages that Ivana and Marceau had actually exchanged, the message about the missing pages was a complete fabrication. The elaborate ruse to convince them that the data was real counted on them thinking the assassination attempt was intended for their captain, not Marceau. Of course, Sirkal had been instructed to make it look like he missed his target. Marceau, who knew how good a shot he was, wouldn’t have realized until it was too late that she had been used.

The deception gave them time to get to Lithuania and carry out their mission to wipe out the treasure and the evidence of the formula that it held. As a side benefit, Golov got another chance to strike at the country that had ruined his career. Russia would never be reunited with the precious items that had been taken from it.

The SUV arrived at the prearranged meeting place, a coffee shop two blocks away from the glass-clad offices of the local natural gas utility, Metanas Energija. Golov, Sirkal, and O’Connor entered the shop, while the two other men stayed with the vehicle.

They all ordered drinks and sat down. Two minutes later, Robertas Kulpa entered, surveying the other customers before letting his eyes settle on Golov. He was a burly man in his forties with long sideburns and an aquiline nose that looked like it had been broken several times. He took a seat at their table without ordering.

“This is not a good place for me to meet,” Kulpa said in a low voice. “People I know from Metanas may come in.”

“That is your problem, not mine,” said Golov. “You’ve been paid well enough to take the risk. I assume you received the deposit?”

He nodded as he kept an eye on the front door. “Thirty thousand euros, just as you promised. And the other half?”

“On completion of our project.”

Kulpa’s eyes glittered at the thought of the next payment. The avarice fairly radiated from Metanas’s most senior operations foreman, and Golov was sure they’d picked the right man. Ivana had identified Kulpa as the person at the company most likely to be compromised because of massive gambling debts he’d accrued.

“We sent you a list of equipment that we’ll need,” Golov said. “Is it ready for tomorrow?”

Kulpa nodded eagerly. “I’ve signed out a van and it’s loaded with all of the gear you asked for.”

“And the location I specified?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem—”

“Shouldn’t be?” Golov interrupted.

Kulpa corrected himself quickly. “I mean, it won’t be a problem to evacuate the building as you wanted. I have the authority to declare an emergency. Our company’s men will be told it’s a drill and instructed to stay away. We’ll even have police officers stationed outside to keep the building secure.”

“Good.”

“How long will you need?”

“Three days. Perhaps five, if we are unlucky in our search.”

Kulpa was shocked. “Five days?”

“Is that a problem? If it is, then give us our money back and we’ll go.” He stood up as if he were about to leave.

Kulpa’s hands went up in supplication. “No!” He looked around again after his outburst and lowered his voice again. “No, five days will be fine, if you need it.”

“Good. We’ll meet you at seven tomorrow morning. I’d better be satisfied with your preparations.”

Kulpa swallowed and nodded.

Without another word, Golov strode out of the coffee shop, flanked by Sirkal and O’Connor. They had another supplier to see before they turned in for the night.

As he got in the SUV, Golov imagined his American counterpart from the Oregon also beginning a search at the same time tomorrow. The news of the discovery and simultaneous loss of the cache hidden for two centuries would certainly make international headlines. He wished he could see the look on the Oregon captain’s face when he realized just how close he’d come to finding the treasure.

As Juan had expected, by the time he and his people had flown into Vilnius, NUMA had come through with a thirty-foot Sea Ray powerboat and scanning equipment borrowed from the Lithuanian Maritime Academy. The boat and gear were being trailered from the coastal city of Klaipėda and would arrive in Vilnius by dawn.

With the equipment acquired, Linda, Gretchen, Trono, and MacD planned the Neris River search grid in Juan’s hotel room after dinner. Linda and Gretchen would operate the metal-sensor array while Juan drove the boat, and Trono and MacD would use their scuba equipment if the sensors picked up anything worthy of inspecting more closely in the river. They decided to start on the far side of Grigiškės and work their way back toward Vilnius.

They wrapped up at ten o’clock. In the morning, they’d head out as soon as the boat arrived.

Gretchen lagged behind as the others said their good-nights and went to their rooms.

“I’ve been wondering about Marie Marceau,” she said.

“About why she got involved with ShadowFoe?” Juan poured himself a scotch from the mini-bar. “Want one?”

“Please. No, I was wondering why she said she was betrayed.”

Juan emptied another small bottle and handed her the glass. He took a seat on the room’s sofa. “It does seem odd for her to make that switch so quickly. One minute she’s planted there as bait to get us sniped and, the next, she’s saying she was betrayed and giving us information about their plans.”

Gretchen put two cubes of ice in her glass and sat down next to Juan. “If what she told us is useful information. Maybe it was all phony. Maybe it was her last act to protect ShadowFoe.”

Juan shook his head. “I was looking into her eyes when she spoke. She really did think they double-crossed her.”

“Or she knew she was dying and wanted to atone for her sins.”

Juan shrugged. “Could be. Either way, it’s been good getting back into the spy game with you for a little while.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The CIA? No. The Oregon is where I belong.” He put his drink on the table and looked up to see Gretchen staring at him. He returned her gaze just as intensely. “But I’d forgotten what a good team we were.”

“Yes, we were.” Her hand grazed his softly. “If the last week has proven anything, we still are.”

When he’d worked with Gretchen before, Juan had resisted the attraction between them because of his marriage. But now there was no reason to hold back and he gave in to their mutual chemistry.

As if pulled by a magnet, he leaned toward her. She came to him at the same time, and their lips met, tentatively at first, then building in intensity until they were locked in a passionate embrace.

It was clear to both of them that Gretchen wouldn’t be leaving the room until morning.