The Bell 407, almost identical to the helicopter they had used in Svalbard, cruised in the darkness at four thousand feet, Kjersti behind the stick and Anna to her right. Behind them sat a strange group: the MI6 officers, Jimmy McLean and Velda Crane; Norwegian Intelligence Service officer, Thom Hagen; and two beefy men with the Norwegian Police Security Service, the PST. An additional SWAT unit from PST was driving north in their mobile command post and would reach Lillehammer by morning.
It had not taken a great deal of convincing on Anna’s part to get officially involved in the case. She had made one phone call to her boss in Vienna, who had called the Secretary General himself at Interpol headquarters in Lyon, France. By the time word had traveled back to Norway, Anna was not only sanctioned to help with the operation, she would become the lead investigator. She didn’t want that kind of responsibility, considering the possible release of a deadly pandemic flu virus worldwide, but then she also had the advantage of knowing there was no virus—a fact she had failed to reveal to her boss in Vienna and would take to her grave. Regardless of motive or effect, Victor Petrova was either a purveyor of a possible weapon of mass destruction, or a criminal mastermind who was looking to fund his operation for the rest of his life with the theft of precious gems. And who knew what he would do with the money he got from those Alexandrite gems? Besides, he had crossed the line by sending his men to kill her, Jake and Kjersti. Twice. Attempted murder would put Petrova away for the rest of his life. But she wanted more. Petrova was a bad guy and they needed to bring him down.
All of this ran through her mind as the helo flew north.
“What you thinking?” Kjersti asked over the mic.
Anna looked over at Kjersti and said, “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m ready for this responsibility.”
Kjersti nodded her head. “Nobody’s ever ready, Anna. I’m sure Jake would tell you that.”
She was right. Jake probably had told her that. “But he seems to handle these situations so easily. He’s a natural.”
“I could tell. He definitely knows how to take charge.”
That could be part of the problem. Would he let her take over? She had a feeling there was something Jake wasn’t telling her about his relationship with Victor Petrova. It all seemed too personal.
“Does he take charge in the bedroom?” Kjersti asked, a smile on her face. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” Anna knew she was only trying to loosen her up, relieve the tension. She smiled back and said, “No complaints.”
“I’ll bet. We’ll be at the Lillehammer airport in ten minutes. You said you spent some time there, right?”
“Yeah, during the Olympics. But that was years ago.”
“Well, we’re right over Mjosa Lake. At a hundred kilometers long, it’s the largest in Norway. Have you heard of the Mjosa Monster?”
She remembered the narrow lake that stretched along the rolling mountains for many kilometers between Hamar and Lillehammer, and had heard about the purported Loch Ness-like beast that locals had swore seeing for the past four hundred years. Somehow Kjersti had managed to take her mind off the case for a short while. She took in deep breaths and tried to relax, despite her angst over flying in a helicopter. Yet, at least this time she didn’t feel like throwing up. She hoped that bug had passed.
Moments later, Kjersti circled around the resort town of Lillehammer, before setting down the chopper at the tiny regional airport. Large SUVs waited for them and drove them to a large hotel in town, where they would wait for the SWAT unit.
●
Jake had circled the entire compound fence by the time he heard the helo swoop down around the town of Lillehammer. It sounded just like the chopper they had flown in Svalbard.
His recon mission had not found a chink in the little bastard’s armor. Jake was sure there was no way in without being discovered. He might have an advantage in the dark, assuming Petrova didn’t have huge flood lights that would blind him in his NVGs. No, maybe the day would be better. Petrova would assume a strike would come at night.
Moving back through the forest, Jake found his car and started back toward town. On the entire drive, he thought not of Petrova, but of his girlfriend Anna. He had felt sorry for how she had felt during the past few days. She had been miserable and he hadn’t been the most supportive. He could blame his coming down off the alcohol that had consumed him so thoroughly in the past few months, but he knew that wasn’t the only problem. Petrova had been like a nagging wart that wouldn’t go away. He had made Jake’s life during his last year in the Air Force a nightmare. He might have been a contributing factor of Jake leaving the service. And then when Jake had joined the CIA, the man had come up again on one of Jake’s first cases in Germany during the fall of the Berlin Wall. They had come close to killing each other more than once. Yet, something had held them back. Was it respect? Was it some professional understanding? Who knows. Regardless of those times, that was the past. They were both private citizens now, and for some reason their paths were crossing again—either by some polar force or unknown desire.
He got back to his room and went right to bed. But he lay in the dark, his mind confused. Something close wasn’t quite right. Danger? Maybe.
●
Victor Petrova, Oberon now to his friends, sat back in his plush leather chair viewing a 50-inch LCD screen in the media room of his estate outside of Lillehammer. There had been no word of Jake Adams coming for him. He had also not heard from Colonel Reed, but he guessed the man had finally come to his senses, as expected, and was now back to working with the Agency. Did Jake Adams know the virus was not really a virus? Perhaps. If so, what would he do with all of his Alexandrite gems? Mister Do Good would probably turn the damn things over to his new friend, the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order in Vienna. Or some other charity of the minute.
On the screen he watched Elvis shaking his hips on the beach with a bunch of women who today would be on Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig or some other diet plan. Chunky women. Nothing wrong with that. Made their tits bigger.
Victor switched screens to an array of cameras around the outside of the estate. Infrared images mostly of trees and some strategically placed open areas, including the stretch from the lake to the estate. Then he went through the cameras within the estate, where he saw his night shift security guard, who watched the same cameras, except for the one watching him, his feet up on the desk and his finger so far up his nose he appeared to be tickling his tiny brain. Joseph Stalin, it was hard to find good people in Scandinavia.
He clicked back to Elvis, who was now strumming his guitar, and finally switched off the DVD. Time to get to bed. Jake Adams would come within the next twenty-four hours, guaranteed. He was too predictable to not come. Victor expected nothing less.
Scooting down off the chair, he waddled to the adjoining bedroom, a huge grin on his face.