Ghosts of War (7 page)

A
fter introductions, I turned the business explanation over to Jennifer. She gave a little canned speech on our company—complete with a history lesson of the castle to showcase our knowledge. The man looked at her documents and our passports, then nodded his head, apparently suitably impressed.

He asked a couple of questions about security and Grolier Recovery's history on maintaining nondisclosure, and Jennifer named a few digs we'd been on that had never made the news, assuring him of our discretion.

Satisfied, he turned to Shoshana and Aaron introduced her as his wife, the supposed expert. He shook her hand, but asked no questions, making me wonder if Aaron hadn't already laid that groundwork with a fake diploma from a fake Hebrew school.

Bona fides complete, the man spoke in heavily accented English, “You may call me Nacek. I am in charge of security for the find, and as you can understand, I may let you look at the Torah within, but nothing else. Agreed?”

Aaron said, “Of course. We were invited here by the Polish government for that express purpose. Where is Dr. Kowalski?”

“He is waiting for us right now. Please, follow me.”

He led us out of the flea market and into a large marble hallway. We wound back around the ticket booths, Jennifer looking longingly at the carpeted stairs leading upward to the castle proper. We entered another hallway, this one looking more modern, with offices on the left and an incongruous bank of steel elevators on the right. It was
clearly off the beaten tourism tracks. Nacek stopped next to an ancient oaken door that was only about six feet high, made back when men weren't nearly as tall as they are now.

He knocked on the door, and we breathlessly waited. Well, everyone but me waited breathlessly. I wanted a beer.

It opened, and a skinny man of about twenty-five poked his head out. I saw Shoshana draw up, staring intently at him, then glance at Aaron. The man was only in the doorway for a split second before another man appeared, this one grizzled and old.

He said, “I'm Doctor Kowalski. You must be Aaron?”

Aaron said yes, and shook his hand. We did the circus of introductions, and then were led into a small office with low ceilings. In the middle were two oaken chests, closed. In front of them was a table with a scroll sitting on it. The Torah.

I watched the guy Shoshana had pinged on, but he seemed to be nothing but paid security, and had sauntered to the back of the room, reclining in a chair. Bored with the proceedings.

I looked at Shoshana, and she was still feeling something from him. She didn't show it outwardly, but she was on fire. I could tell.

They went through a dance of putting on cotton gloves, talking about the Torah, and then Shohana inspected it, looking for the markings they had learned. I watched closely. As soon as she touched it, it was over.

She glanced at Aaron and simply nodded, then proceeded to recite a bunch of memorized things about old shit, Torah markings, and the synagogue in Plonsk, ending with, “There's no way to tell completely, of course, without a comprehensive examination, but we can help with that as well.”

Dr. Kowalski said, “This
is
the examination. Can you not conclusively prove it's from the synagogue in Plonsk? Is it not the one we thought?”

Shoshana surprised me, as I would have expected her to just rip his
head off at the sharp tone, then walk out. Instead, she sounded exactly like an expert. “Sir, it fits everything we know about the Torah in question. It is definitely centuries old, and it matches the description in its sheepskin and markings, but there's really no way to know without bringing it to the people who actually used it. And those people are only in Israel. As I said, I can facilitate that, and maintain discretion. Nobody will know it came from the gold train, and nobody will question when it returns here. They'll think it's from a museum.”

Dr. Kowalski sighed and said, “I thought as much. Unfortunately, I'm not authorized for such a move now. I'll take your information and get back to you.”

Aaron tried one last time. “Surely a simple trip with the Torah would do no harm? I'm positive I could arrange the travel free of charge.”

Kowalski nodded and said, “Yes, yes, that would be the easy thing, but then we'd be traveling out every other day with paintings, candlesticks, and rings. We wanted to do the opposite and have each confirmed here, where we have control. I cannot risk a firestorm because of rabid idiots on the Internet. I'm sorry, but I promise I'll take your recommendation higher.”

The doctor shook his head and grinned, saying, “Truthfully, the government doesn't know what to do. They want no blood splashed on them because of the find. They wish it had remained hidden forever.”

Aaron nodded sagely and said, “I completely understand. I'm grateful you allowed us to see it, and wish you the best in its disposition. Rest assured, you have our discretion.”

Kowalski smiled and said, “Exactly why I asked for you. There is nothing better than working with academics who are outside the political spectrum. When can I expect your report?”

“Two days, at most. You'll have it before we leave.”

He held his arm out and said, “Come. Let me pay for your meal. Talk about other things.”

We left without another word, Shoshana taking one last glance into the room, staring at the milquetoast in the corner.

We ate at the restaurant adjacent to the castle, getting some typical Polish fare, which suited me fine. What I didn't like was what had just happened. Something had occurred, and I wasn't sure what it was. We spent the entire lunch talking about the bloody history of the castle, with Jennifer leading the way, and by the end of it, all I wanted was to ask some questions of the Israelis in private.

We paid the bill and walked back to the hotel, Jennifer talking about the Torah with Aaron, and Shoshana weirdly walking right next to me. Rubbing up against my body and glancing into my eyes every thirty seconds. I knew it wasn't because she was itching to tell me a good joke. I stopped and said, “Okay, you two, what's up?”

Shoshana said, “Nothing. Aaron and I are going to Wroclaw. This took much less time than we thought, and we have a nicer hotel there, about an hour away.”

I said, “This hotel's fine, and I'm sick of traveling.”

“We can't plan in this hotel. Too close to the castle. And it might be monitored.”

I glanced at Jennifer and said, “What on earth are you talking about?”

Aaron said, “Our flight out isn't for two days. I'll pay for you to leave tomorrow, if that's what you'd like, or you could stay in Wroclaw, with us.”

I stopped, knowing this was the endgame. I said, “I'm not looking forward to jumping right back on a plane, but it depends on what you have planned.”

Jennifer looked from me to Aaron, not saying a word. Shoshana said, “You aren't that stupid.”

I said, “Apparently I am. What is it you want?”

I knew the answer even before I asked for it. Knew that mission success was much more than utilizing our cover organization. They wanted our skill.

Aaron glanced at Shoshana and she nodded. He said, “We're going to steal that Torah. And we could use your help.”

M
ikhail popped an olive into his mouth and said, “Some team of Jewish experts came to the castle today and looked at the Torah.”

“From Israel?” asked Simon. “I thought your contact said that would never happen.”

“No, some husband-and-wife team from America, facilitated by a company called Grolier Recovery Services. I checked them out, and they're legit. They've done stuff like this before, but the team recommended sending the Torah to Israel for confirmation. You know if that happens, they'll keep it.”

Simon said, “The Poles know that as well. They won't let it happen.”

“They'd better not. That Torah is my payment. I already have a buyer in Vienna.”

“I'll reimburse you from my stake if that happens. From the rest of the gold we obtain.”

“Even so, we should move the operation up. Do it tomorrow.”

“Are we ready? Can we do that?”

“Yes. The team is here, in Warsaw, and the plan is set. It'll be easy. We roll up to the northern face of the castle right at the base. There is a road that leads to an underground loading zone. We meet our man, get the uniforms, get in an elevator, ride up, and secure the trunks. We load them, move back down, and leave. Outside of removing the other two hired men, we'll avoid the entire security apparatus. It's not going to get any better if we wait.”

Simon took a sip of wine, then said, “And you trust this inside man?”

“No. Of course not. But I trust the men I brought from Israel. You'll get your gold. That I know. If we wait until after your crazy plan in Belarus, I can't predict the outcome.”

Mikhail fished another olive from the bowl, and Simon remained quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, it was from a different perspective.

“Do you have any qualms about stealing from the deceased of the Holocaust? Does that bring you any pause?”

Mikhail waited a beat, then said, “I have no connection to the Holocaust. My family moved to Israel in 1919. I'm fourth generation. The people who own the goods in that train are long gone. Whoever ends up with it will be stealing it, I'm sure. It'll happen in a courtroom, or with me. No. I have no qualms.”

He took a sip of his whiskey and said, “But you ask as if you do. Your family felt the death. Felt the pain. Are you having second thoughts?”

Simon raised his glass and said, “I would, but if the camps taught anyone anything, it's that survival is based on the ability to manipulate your surroundings. To make your own destiny. My grandfather survived the camps by sheer will and cunning. No. I don't have any qualms. But I never served in Israeli intelligence. I've been fighting my entire life for survival. I'm a de facto Israeli citizen, but I feel no connection to the country. It only allows me to pursue my business.”

“Then we are agreed.”

Simon set the glass down and said, “Why did you leave the Mossad? I've dealt with them before, and they are all true believers. What caused your fall from grace?”

Mikhail chuckled and said, “Why does anyone leave any intelligence organization? What causes most falls from grace?”

“A woman? You couldn't keep your dick in your pants?”

Mikhail's glare became harsh, and he said, “Yes. It was a woman, but not because of sex. Because she was a traitor. Nobody would
listen to me, and it ended badly. She was moved within the building, and I was moved out.”

He relaxed and said, “Make no mistake; before being true believers, the Mossad is a bureaucracy. I was a true believer. The bureaucracy won.”

He ate another olive and said, “And now, I ply those skills for you.”

Simon said, “Good enough, but I worry about your commitment. If you're willing to turn on your country, why should I think you won't turn on me?”

Mikhail scoffed and said, “I have never turned on Israel. Nothing I have done has affected them. It's only enriched me.” He jabbed his small fork toward Simon's face and said, “You are the last man who should be accusing me of turning on my country.”

Simon laughed and said, “Yes, I suppose you're right. Survival for self will always supersede anything else, but truthfully, I don't think of Putin as being a part of my country. I love Russia, but not from the bottom of a pit with a bucket to shit in. I don't expect you to understand. Only obey.”

Mikhail nodded and said, “Fair enough. So we trust one another about as far as we can throw one another. You provide me what I want, and I do the same.”

Simon glanced at him and said, “Mikhail, I would never turn on you. You and I are of the same build, with the same goals. But you didn't appreciate me leveraging you for passports for the Night Wolves, and that causes concern.”

“I don't like being played. I didn't like you throwing me into your little plan for World War Three without asking, but I got the passports, did I not?”

“Yes. You did. And Kirill is on the way. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's smart to do our mission in Poland earlier.”

Mikhail downed the last of his whiskey and said, “No doubt. That gold train plunder will be inaccessible after Kirill lights the fuse.”