The Romanov Ransom

42

The main hangar door was closed, but a side door was open, and Remi could see one of their two pilots standing just inside it. “He looks worried,” she said.

“Let me go in first.”

As Sam was about to enter, a man in a gray suit walked out. “Mr. and Mrs. Fargo? So glad you could make it.”

“And you are…?” Sam asked.

“Forgive me. Tomasz Gorski, with the Internal Security Agency. We have a few questions about your activities in Wałbrzych.”

He indicated they should precede him into the hangar.

Sam went first, Remi followed. Both stopped short at the sight of ten uniformed, armed men standing just inside, as well as the Fargo flight crew seated nearby. The crew gave Sam and Remi nervous smiles, but before she or Sam had a chance to ask if they were okay, Tomasz closed and locked the door behind them.

“What’s going on?” Sam demanded.

“All in good time. I’m just waiting for the commander of—”

“Are we under arrest?” Sam asked.

“Of course not.”

“Then why the armed guards?” He nodded toward the group of men. “And the locked door?”

“For your protection.”

Remi moved closer to Sam, resting her hand on his arm, feeling at once how tense he was. He leaned into her, whispering, “Feel free to lay on the charm.”

Remi tried for a doe-like expression. “Captain—”

“Lieutenant,” he corrected. “But, please. Call me Tomasz.”

“Lieutenant,” she continued. “Perhaps if you took a moment to explain to us why we’re being detained?” She gave him her sweetest smile, noticing a slight softening in his expression. “Please?”

“What I can say is, we’re aware you have been to several restricted areas and possibly removed items from those areas without approval from the government. Therefore, we’d appreciate your cooperation so that we can quickly resolve this matter and get you on your way. Once the commander arrives, of course.”

Sam crossed his arms. “And how long will that take?”

“Soon.”

Remi eyed the armed men, noting each with his finger relaxed along the trigger guard of his weapon, ready for action. She focused on the lieutenant again. “The only reason we neglected to get the proper authorization was because circumstances forced us to take shelter in the very tunnels we’re being accused of entering. People were shooting at us.”

He gave a bland smile but didn’t comment.

Time to change tactics, she thought. “I’m sure that you can appreciate that after our… narrow escape, I’d like to freshen up.” When he seemed unmoved by her request, she added, “Or is there some reason we can’t wait on the jet?”

“Forgive me, Mrs. Fargo. Of course. You are not prisoners here.”

“Thank you.” She and Sam started toward the plane.

“But I must ask your husband to leave his backpack behind.”

They stopped, looking back at him. “Why?” Sam asked.

“We know you have guns. And there is the matter of what was taken from the tunnel… I should have specified that you’ll need to be accompanied by a guard. In case there are more weapons in your hold.” His smile this time was patronizing. “My source tells me this is probably the case.”

Sam slid the pack from his shoulder, setting it on the ground, just as someone knocked at the hangar door. Several men pointed their weapons that direction as Tomasz asked the visitors to identify themselves. Apparently satisfied by the response, he opened the door.

A tall man, wearing fatigues and with a holster carrying a high-caliber pistol, walked in, followed by the man and woman who’d tailed them at the Amber Museum.

Remi edged closer to Sam as he eyed the couple, then pinned his gaze on Tomasz. “What’s going on?”

“Finally!” came a woman’s voice from just outside the door. The group parted and let her through. She glanced around the hangar, saw Sam and Remi, then gave a stiff smile. “Clearly, you’re the Fargos. I understand you’ve met my associates in Kaliningrad?”

“And who are you?” Sam asked.

“Commander Petrov. But, please, call me Tatiana.”