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20 |South of Kwidzyn (formerly Marienwerder), Poland Present Day
Acton’s heart sank as the truck and forklift disappeared, the last crate containing the Amber Room offloaded only moments ago. The operation had been executed swiftly, with military precision, and the manner in which these men conducted themselves, despite their attire, suggested they were ex-forces of some type, the accents suggesting to him Spetsnaz.
A terrifying prospect.
Lisowski moaned as Laura loosened the tourniquet, the only treatment they had been able to provide for the poor woman. She was pale and weak, and Acton wasn’t sure how much time she had left, though with the operation now complete, he hoped help might be here soon.
He still had no answer to the question of why the leader had said he needed them, and he feared what that answer might be. He decided to risk asking after Lisowski gasped when Laura tightened the tourniquet again. “Now that you’ve got what you came for, can we call for help?”
The leader addressed the others lined up against the far end of the chamber, their hands and feet zip-tied. “There’s a cellphone jammer hidden outside.” He dropped a knife next to him, the blade sticking into the dirt beside a pile of confiscated cellphones, Acton’s and Laura’s purposefully destroyed, perhaps to cause confusion as to where they were. “You’ll have to work together to get to this and use it. By then, we’ll be gone. Once you free yourselves and walk far enough away from the jammer, you’ll be able to get a signal and call for help.”
Acton held out his hands, asking a question he feared he already knew the answer to. “Aren’t you going to tie us up too?”
The man turned to him. “No, professor, you and your lovely wife are coming with us.”
Acton’s chest tightened, the answer exactly as he had expected. “Why?”
“We need someone to authenticate the find for our client. He’s paying a lot of money, and he’s going to want to know he’s getting the genuine article before he pays us. Two unwilling professors of archaeology are exactly what I need to do that.”
Acton glanced at Laura. “Leave my wife. I’m all you need.”
The man chuckled. “So gallant. I do believe you were born in the wrong era, professor. But no, you’re both coming with me.”
Acton stepped toward him, glaring into his eyes. “I must insist.”
The man smiled, tapping his shoulder holster. “Professor, if you continue to insist on delaying me, I can allow one of you to remain behind.” His smiled disappeared. “Dead.”
“It’s okay, James.”
Acton turned to his wife, feeling helpless. They had no leverage. None. These thieves already had what they had come for, had all the guns, and were in complete control.
The leader held his hand out toward the tunnel, as if inviting them to join him. “Shall we?”
Acton frowned, holding out a hand for Laura. He turned to Lisowski. “Hang in there, Aleksandra. Help will be here soon.”
“I-I think I should be telling you the same thing.”
Acton smiled then followed the thieves down the tunnel and out into the fresh morning air, his chest aching at the sight of the two unarmed security guards, dead inside the entranceway. He glared at the leader. “Was that really necessary?”
“In the end, no, but we had assumed they were armed.”
“And that makes it all right?”
The man shrugged. “Do you really think I care?”
Acton frowned. “I guess not.” He stared at two large curtain side transport trucks with a beer company logo emblazoned on their fabric-clad sides, there nothing whatsoever to indicate the actual precious cargo they both contained. Two black SUVs filled with the henchmen pulled out after them, a third with only a driver, waited for the leader of the operation and his two prisoners.
“Get in.”
Acton opened the rear door and Laura climbed in, sliding over behind the passenger seat. He followed, closing the door, the leader sitting in the front. He leaned out the window and raised a device that looked suspiciously like a detonator.
Acton gasped as a button was pressed.
A massive explosion erupted behind them, and he and Laura spun in their seats, staring out the rear window dumbfounded at the sight, the entire mine entrance collapsed, and any hope of rescue along with it.
Acton spun toward the man as he motioned for the driver to proceed. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“We can’t exactly have your friends telling anyone what just happened, can we?”
“You promised that they would live!”
“And they will. I have no doubt the Polish authorities will be contacted eventually when you miss your next important phone call. They will discover the disaster, dig, and God willing, find your friends alive.”
Acton jabbed a finger at him. “You better hope that’s how it works out, or there’s no way we’re cooperating.”
The man chuckled, turning in his seat to face them as he drew his MP-443 Grach pistol, pointing it at Acton. “Tough words, professor, but I only need one of you.”
Laura squeezed Acton’s hand. “Kill him, and I’ll tell your client it’s a fake.”
The man smiled. “Which is why, Professor Palmer, you will be the one I kill.” He stared at Acton. “So, Professor, if you want your wife to survive the day, you’ll cooperate, regardless of what just happened back there. Understood?”
Acton didn’t respond, allowing the helpless rage written on his face to do his talking.