Chapter 13
While Ace hammered his fist into one man’s face, the other came at him, swinging the butt of his weapon, aiming at Ace’s face.
Ace grabbed hold of the man he was punching and pivoted in time for the weapon to hit the man he was holding instead of his own head.
The man slumped in Ace’s hold.
He shoved him at the other guy.
That guy staggered backward.
Ace leaped toward him and tackled him to the ground. The man hit hard. He lay for a moment, his eyes wide, mouth open as if trying to take in air.
Ace sat on the man, pinning him to the ground.
“Ace, catch!” Fearghas yelled.
Ace looked in time to see several white strips flying toward him and land at his feet.
Zip ties.
Ace grabbed the one closest to him. He rose off the man beneath him, flipped him onto his belly and secured his arms behind him by zip-tying his wrists. He flipped the other man, who lay unconscious, onto his stomach and secured his wrists. Not leaving things to chance, he secured their ankles as well.
Fearghas had his two guys either dead or secured with zip ties and was staggering to his feet. He launched himself at one of the two men Dmytro was struggling to subdue.
Ace turned toward Jasmine. She’d shoved her guys toward the shadows the last time he’d seen her.
“Jasmine!” he called out.
When she didn’t answer, his breath lodged in his throat. He stumbled to his feet and ran toward the last place he’d seen her at the edge of the beach where trees and bushes cast shadows.
He hurried through the brush and trees, emerging near the loading ramp at the back of the hotel.
As he came out into the open, taillights flashed as a dark SUV sped away.
Ace ran after it, but it was gone before he could catch up. Not that he could have stopped it.
“Fuck!” Ace yelled.
“What happened?” Fearghas asked as he ran up beside Ace. “Where’s Jasmine?”
“An SUV just pulled away. She has to be in it.” His hands clenched into fists. “Demopoulos got to her.”
Dmytro arrived in time to hear Ace’s words. He was breathing hard when he asked, “So, the Greek has Jasmine?”
Ace nodded.
“And the copper scroll?” Fearghas asked.
Ace jammed a thumb toward the backpack strapped to his shoulders. “I have the scroll. I switched it out of her bag and put it in mine.”
Dmytro muttered something in Ukrainian.
Ace’s heart sank to the pit of his gut. “He’ll kill her when he finds out she doesn’t have the scroll.”
Fearghas stood staring at the empty loading area. “He won’t kill her.” He faced Ace. “Not as long as you have the scroll.”
Dmytro nodded. “Jasmine is their leverage with you. Demopoulos will want to make a trade. Her life for the scroll.”
“And if I give Demopoulos the scroll to get Jasmine back, her son could die,” Ace said aloud. She’d never forgive me.
“Do we go after Demopoulos or Bertolli?” Fearghas asked.
Ace’s jaw hardened. As much as he loved Jasmine, if anything happened to her son, she’d never forgive him or herself.
“We go after the kid,” Ace said. “As we all promised Jasmine.”
Dmytro’s brow furrowed. “Are you going to trade the scroll for the boy?”
“Not if I can help it,” Ace said. “We’ll get the boy out, then go after Demopoulos.”
“What if he demands the trade before we get the child out?” Fearghas asked.
“We’ll think of something.” Ace turned to Dmytro. “You said you have a contact here?”
Dmytro nodded. “I do.”
“Then let’s find him. We’ll need to know how to get into Bertolli’s compound, preferably before sunrise. I could use a weapon. And if your contact has any idea where Demopoulos has taken Jasmine, that would be more than great.”
Dmytro tipped his head toward the hotel. “I will meet with my contact. You will stay out here…?”
Ace nodded. “We’ll wait here.” He met Dmytro’s gaze. “I don’t have to tell you to hurry.”
Dmytro nodded and sprinted around the side of the hotel.
Ace and Fearghas stepped out of the open and back into the shadows.
“What about the guys we left tied up on the beach?” Fearghas asked.
Ace’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I’d kill them, but then we might get tied up with the local authorities.”
“If they catch us,” Fearghas reminded him.
“I’d rather not be charged with murder just yet. However, if Demopoulos harms a single hair on Jasmine’s head...murder is back on the table.”
Fearghas nodded.
Ace paced the length of the loading area, sticking to the shadows the surrounding trees provided. As each minute passed, his anxiety mounted. He prayed Dmytro was right, and that Demopoulos would leverage her for the scroll.
First, they had to get Eli away from Bertolli. If he didn’t have the boy, he had no leverage over Jasmine. Once Eli was safe, they’d go after Demopoulos and get Jasmine back.
If he had to trade the Jordanian artifact for Jasmine, he would. His stomach roiled at the thought of what could be happening now.
If he hadn’t insisted on taking the scroll from Jasmine, Demopoulos wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Jasmine. He’d have what he wanted, and he’d kill her as payment for the amount of trouble she’d caused at his compound.
Still, they never should have captured Jasmine. If Ace had been a little faster taking out his two guys, she wouldn’t have gotten far enough away that she was snatched.
As he passed Fearghas, the other man said, “Don’t beat yourself up. They outnumbered us and would have gotten to us anyway.”
Ace shook his head. “We could have stayed in the boat and circled around to another landing location.”
“They knew we were coming into Corfu. They probably had the helicopter in their sights,” Fearghas said. “Besides, what is done is done. No amount of kicking yourself will change what has happened.”
He knew that, but it didn’t make him feel any better about failing her. “I have to make this right. By Jasmine as well as her son. She was counting on me to help.”
“We’ll make it right,” Fearghas insisted. “Dmytro has an amazing network he can tap into.”
“God, I hope so.” Ace stared at the side of the hotel where Dmytro had gone, willing him to return.
A shadowy figure appeared at that corner and stopped.
Fearghas chuckled. “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”
They hurried over to Dmytro.
Dmytro grinned and held out the bag he’d been carrying since they’d left the yacht. “My contact sent this for you.” He handed Ace a pistol and an extra magazine full of bullets.
Ace took the weapon and popped the magazine out. It was full of bullets. He reinserted the magazine, checked the safety and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers. “Thanks.”
“My contact says there is no secret entrance to Bertolli’s compound. The walls, like Demopoulos’s place, are topped with concertina wire.”
“So, we take some bolt cutters and cut the damned wire,” Ace said, ready to do anything rather than stand there twiddling his thumbs.
Dmytro shook his head. “That might not be necessary. My contact says there is a laundry delivery scheduled for early morning. The gate guards allow the truck to enter to exchange dirty for clean laundry.”
Ace frowned.
“Are you suggesting we stow away on the laundry truck?” Fearghas asked.
“That could be hours from now,” Ace said. He wasn’t willing to wait that long. Not with Jasmine’s life at stake.
Dmytro shrugged. “Or we do as Ace suggests and climb the wall?”
“The longer we wait, the sooner Demopoulos will demand the trade for Jasmine,” Ace pointed out. “I opt for climbing the wall.”
“And if the house is wired for security?” Fearghas asked. “We’ll set off the alarms as soon as we attempt an entry.”
“Can’t be helped,” Ace said. “We have to get inside to find the boy.”
“We could use a distraction,” Fearghas said. “One that would draw people out of the house, thus shutting off security while they’re going out.” His lips curved into a secretive smile. “I might have something we can use for a distraction.” He rummaged in the backpack he’d carried from his place. He pulled out a small block of what appeared to be clay and a device that looked suspiciously like a detonator.
Ace laughed. “You just happened to have a stash of plastic explosives in your apartment?”
The former SAS operative shrugged. “You never know when it will be necessary. I like to be prepared.”
Fearghas stuffed the explosives back into his bag. He rummaged around some more and came out with other devices. “I also have a couple of radio headsets.”
“Perfect.” Ace clapped a hand on Fearghas’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re on my side.” He turned to Dmytro. “Directions and transport?”
Dmytro nodded. “My contact offered his car, and I have directions.”
“Bolt cutters?” Ace asked.
He nodded. “He keeps some in his car.”
He took one of Fearghas”s radio headsets, hooked it over his head and settled it over his ear.
Dmytro took the other and adjusted it to his head.
Fearghas put on his headset and walked several steps away. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you,” Dmytro said.
“I hear you,” Ace echoed. “Can you hear us?”
“Aye,” Fearghas said, turning back to the others.
Ace clapped his hands together. “Let’s go find Jasmine’s son.”
Dmytro led the way to his contact’s car, which was parked in the employee parking lot of the hotel. An older model Mini Cooper.
Ace stared at the little car.
Dmytro claimed the driver’s seat.
Fearghas climbed into the backseat, turning his long legs to the side to fit.
Ace dropped onto the front passenger seat. He bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything about the small size of the car. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. If it got them close enough to Bertolli’s compound, he didn’t care if it was a horse and cart. Actually, the Mini would get them there faster.
He focused on the road ahead, glancing down often at the map on Dmytro’s cell phone. He told Dmytro of the turns and warned him of tight curves.
With Ace giving him the directions, Dmytro drove out of the city and up into the hillside, zigzagging around hairpin curves.
When they were within a quarter mile of the turn-off into Bertolli’s estate, Ace had Dmytro slow the vehicle. At the next turn-off, Dmytro pulled off the main road and tucked the little car behind some scrubby bushes.
Ace was out before Dmytro or Fearghas. He opened the hatch at the rear of the little car and glanced down at every tool a man could possibly need in case of a vehicular or home emergency. Ace had to dig beneath hammers, wrenches, saws and plumbing fixtures to locate the bolt cutters buried at the bottom.
The other two men joined him.
“Do we need anything else?” Dmytro asked, staring down into the chaos of tools.
“I’ll take a screwdriver, an adjustable wrench and a hammer,” Fearghas said.
Ace held up the bolt cutters. “Unless he has a ladder hidden in there, I’ve got everything I need.”
Ace led the way back to the road, carrying the bolt cutters and the pistol tucked into the belt around his waist. He moved along the road, sticking to shadows cast by overhanging trees while staring down at the map on his cell phone.
When they were within fifty yards of Bertolli’s address, Ace veered off the road and moved into the trees, aiming away from the gate.
Ahead, the compound wall loomed above them.
Ace stopped and listened for the sounds of humans. When he heard none, he checked right and left for any guards patrolling the exterior of the wall.
As far as he could tell, there were no guards this far along the wall.
Working against time, Ace, carrying the bolt cutters, stepped into the open and hurried toward the wall.
Fearghas followed.
When they reached the stucco wall, Fearghas got down on his hands and knees.
Ace stepped up onto his back with the bolt cutters. He could just reach the concertina wire. Careful not to lose his balance, he slipped the bolt cutters over the thick wire and pressed the handles together as hard as he could. When it didn’t cut all the way through, he pressed again, applying all his strength.
Snap!
The concertina wire sprang apart and curled away to the next metal anchor holding it in place. What was left was a gap wide enough for Ace to pull himself up and swing his leg over. He studied the interior of the compound as far as he could see, which wasn’t far at all. Nothing moved. He reached down for Fearghas.
Fearghas let Ace pull him up the wall until he landed with his belly over the top.
Fearghas swung his leg over and straddled the wall. “Go,” he said softly to Ace. “I’ve got Dmytro.”
Ace dropped to the ground inside the wall and moved through the trees and brush to get a good look at the house standing on a slight rise. He could see the side and the front corner. “Two guards on the front entrance,” he reported to the other two members of his team. “No side entrance until the second floor.”
Fearghas spoke into Ace’s headset, “Headed to the back and beyond to the other side.”
“Going to circle around front to the other side,” Dmytro said.
“Be careful,” Ace said.
Moments later, Fearghas said, “Back side is a no go. It’s built on the edge of a cliff. Headed back to Ace.”
Ace waited patiently for Fearghas to join him and for Dmytro to weigh in.
“One entrance through a garden on this side,” Dmytro said into Ace’s headset.
“On our way.” Ace edged further away from the house and then ran in a circle around the front, crossing the paved road leading in and out.
Fearghas followed, keeping pace.
On the other side of the house, Ace and Fearghas inched forward until Dmytro found them.
The Ukrainian pointed toward the garden and a trellis leading up the side of the house to a balcony.
Fearghas glanced up at the trellis. “That’s the entrance?”
“There are two. From what I saw, one leads into a sunroom on the first floor. The other probably leads into a sitting room or another sunroom on the second floor.”
“Did your contact give you an idea of where Bertolli might have the boy?”
Dmytro nodded. “He said that his wife’s sister is Bertolli’s housekeeper. She told his wife she had prepared a tray of food for him several times and laid it on a table beside a room on the second floor. No one is allowed into that room except Bertolli. He told them the boy is his nephew and is sickly. He doesn’t want anyone spreading their germs around him.”
Ace’s chest tightened. “Poor kid is all alone in there. He’s only three.”
Dmytro nodded. “All the more reason to get him back svoyiy mami.”
Ace frowned.
“To his mama,” Dmytro said. “The sister said that the boy is locked in the nicest guest room in the house. The one that gets the early morning sunlight.”
Fearghas stared up at the room above the trellis. “Morning sun would be on the east side of the house.”
“This side,” Ace said. “I’m going for the trellis if it will hold me.”
“We’ll follow once we know it’ll hold you,” Fearghas said.
Ace glanced right, then left. He didn’t see any guards or any movement of any kind. Hunkering low, he ran across the open space and into a garden with a stone path, winding between decorative bushes and fragrant flowers.
When he reached the trellis, he grabbed the wooden slats and shook them gently. The trellis held. Placing one foot into the diamond shape created by the overlapping slats, he pulled himself up several feet and shook the trellis, now holding his weight.
One by one, he worked his way up to the base of the balcony and peered through the balcony railing into the room beyond.
As Dmytro had suggested, it was some kind of sunroom or sitting room. Whether it was off a bedroom, he couldn’t be sure. He prayed it wasn’t off Bertolli’s bedroom.
He climbed the trellis a little higher. The trellis shuddered ominously but held long enough for him to step over the railing onto the balcony.
As soon as Ace cleared the trellis, Fearghas ran across the open area and started climbing.
Ace held the trellis flush against the wall to make sure it didn’t detach with Fearghas on it.
It shook violently as Fearghas slung his leg over the balcony rail and landed beside Ace.
Dmytro was next.
Once again, Ace held onto the trellis, feeling it shake a lot more than when he’d come up.
When Dmytro was halfway up, a splitting sound cracked the air. Dmytro’s foot gave on the lower diamond. He clung to the trellis until his foot found purchase on the next diamond rung.
Ace held onto the upper end of the trellis with all his might as it threatened to shake loose of its mooring.
Dmytro was almost to the top when the trellis seemed to disintegrate beneath him. He reached for one of the balcony rails as the trellis crumbled to the ground.
Ace released his hold on the trellis and leaned over the rail to grab Dmytro’s free hand.
Between Ace and Fearghas, they pulled Dmytro up high enough he could get his foot on the edge of the balcony and help himself over.
As soon as Dmytro was safe, Ace turned to the door. Knowing opening the door could set off alarms, Ace hesitated a moment, then twisted the knob. It was locked. He stepped back, ready to kick the door.
Fearghas touched his arm. “Let me.”
Ace frowned as Fearghas pulled a thin file from his backpack that looked very similar to the one Jasmine carried in her satchel. He stepped aside and let the former SAS operative work his magic on the lock.
A moment later, the lock clicked.
Fearghas straightened and pulled the door open.
Fully expecting an alarm to go off, Ace rushed through, eager to find the boy and get out of the house before all the guards converged on them.
A door stood open to the right. It led into another room with a desk and bookshelves. On the desk lay a large print drawing of ancient Egypt and the countries surrounding it. Several points on the drawing were labeled in handwriting that looked like Italian.
A display case stood beside the desk containing various ancient artifacts, presumably from Egypt.
Ace passed through the room and out into a hallway.
Dmytro and Fearghas emerged into the same hallway from the sunroom. They turned left. Ace went right to the next door. As he was reaching for the knob, Dmytro spoke softly in his ear. “This one is locked.”
Fearghas already had his file out and was working the lock by the time Ace crossed to where they were.
Fearghas disengaged the lock in less than three seconds.
Ace made a mental note to learn how to pick a lock. It might come in handy as a Brotherhood Protector.
Dmytro pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Ace entered behind him.
Fearghas stood fast at the door. “I’ll keep watch.”
From what Ace could see, the room was small but nicely decorated, with starlight shining through sheer curtains hanging over the window.
In the far corner of the room was a single bed with a small bump in the middle.
Ace’s pulse quickened.
He hurried across the room to the bed, bent over and pulled a thin blanket aside.
A small child with dark, wavy hair stared up at him with wide, almost black eyes.
Ace pressed a finger to his lips and spoke in a whisper. “Eli?”
The boy nodded.
“Your mama sent me,” Ace said.
Eli’s eyes widened even more.
“Do you want to see your mama?” Ace asked.
The little boy nodded.
Thank God Jasmine had taught her son to speak English. If he had only spoken Hebrew, he could have been even more afraid of Ace than the man holding him captive.
Ace held out his hand.
Eli placed his hand in Ace’s. “I want my mama.”
“I know,” Ace said and gathered the little boy into his arms. “Let’s get you out of here and back to her. Can you hold on tight?”
Eli nodded, wrapped his arms around Ace’s neck and buried his face against his throat.
Ace turned toward the other men.
Boom!
A nearby explosion rattled the windows.
Eli flinched and burrowed closer to Ace.
Fearghas dove into the boy’s room with Dmytro and Ace and softly closed the door.
Seconds later, footsteps pounded past in the hallway.
“Who?” Ace stared from Fearghas to Dmytro and back.
Fearghas held up his hands. “Not me.”
Ace met Dmytro’s gaze. “Demopoulos.”