Truthseekers (26 page)

It would be weeks before the chosen one had his new home, thousands of miles away. All sorts of people were paid, chosen, served and stood by them as they boarded at first a small boat, then a much larger boat, then rail, then a steamer, then more rail and finally after nine weeks they would be relocated into a land they had never heard about.

Grand Oak looked to the skies.

“Departed ancestors, keep our secret safe. May their travels be gifted and may they always be secure.”

He acknowledged the sky and the land and then nodded. A boat containing worried parents and a screaming child pulled away from the shore.

34

The refuel in Scotland had gone without incident. It seemed the Eagle knew people who knew people. That certainly helped. David’s first peep of the Mediterranean Sea jogged him alert. How did the Templars get the chosen one out of America and what did these Indians really know? More importantly he was thinking of who would be following them and what resistance they would have. Was Lone Bear in on the whole thing? What if this was a trap? He must have been looking intense. He felt Abbey’s touch on his hand.

“If you curl your lip like that again I am going to eat you up, I swear it.”

David smiled and looked into the soft, loving eyes of a woman he hadn’t known that long, but was everything he had ever desired in his life.

“It’s my thinking look and if we get out of this alive… I might just let you.”

“Thinking is so over-rated, David,” Abbey smiled back, firming her grip on his suntanned hand. “I prefer to feel. All the greatest minds, strategists and warriors feel. When you use your heart you will outdo many minds who are thinking.”

“I think… no, I feel you are right,” David replied wistfully, watching the ocean pass beneath the jet. Europe had busy skies and they were only an hour from Crete. With every plane that crossed their path David lent forward a little, wondering if they were in pursuit. Abbey was firmly in control as usual and the others had passed out in the back. They would need their rest. David could not rest.

Just over 600 miles behind David’s plane was another private jet. This carried Chant and John and was heading in the same direction. John was busy sending emails over an encrypted system to different allies on the ground across Europe. By the time they landed in Crete, a top-flight mercenary team with three platoons of highly experienced and deadly individuals would be arriving in Crete from various corners. Chant had decided to ensure all were well equipped and ready for action. This time there was to be no mistake. Intel on the ground had been warned and they had control of the various traffic and airport cameras, thus they would be able to see the exact movements of the team. The right briefing and right attack needed to be fully coordinated this time. Chant didn’t want to be front page but he was prepared to cause a commotion.

Lone Bear’s plane landed in Athens. He and his small team did not have the luxury of private jets, but they were well rested and had chartered a flight from Athens to Heraklion, Crete’s capital. On arriving at Athens, Lone Bear had one of his team send David some instructions to meet them on the outskirts of Heraklion at a hotel rendezvous.

Upon landing at Crete, the Learjet taxied to a private hangar. Of course there was the usual immigration clearance that was required. Phillip Glenville’s presence made it smooth and simple. The girl sent to do the checks was a fan of his. He told her they were there to scout
locations for the making of a new film about Alexander the Great. She never bothered to ask why the star was on the scouting trip.

A car was hired and soon the five were heading toward their rendezvous point, a small family-owned hotel on the grounds of the Palace of Knossos. The hotel was owned by a Greek family who had held it for forty years and whilst only eighteen rooms, it was normally highly sought after due to its location with regards to the palace. Lone Bear had booked two rooms for them. David took the first watch while they waited and let Abbey get some sleep. It was only a matter of a few hours before Lone Bear was due, and he couldn’t sleep anyway. Rocko could always sleep and David enjoyed his dulcet snoring tones. At least one of them was comfortable. Outside the hotel it was busy. There was a festival of sorts going on into the night. Where David lived festivals finished just after midnight. This one seemed to be just beginning at that stage. He could smell the homemade souvlaki cooking on the open fires and hear the sound of the bouzouki haunting his mind from some past event. He remembered his trip to Santorini to find the lost continent of Atlantis and the fun times he had on that island many years ago. Everyone seemed so happy at Greek festivals and they could go all night. He looked across at Stacey and Phillip, who had his arm around her. They too were looking out a window, taking it all in.

Across town in a warehouse next to the airport John was connecting his laptop to a screen. Around him there were nearly thirty soldiers, including two women. They were Greek, Cypriot, German, Dutch and English with two Romanians and one Czech whom John had served with many times. Surrounding them was an array of ordnance, rocket launchers, AK47s, grenades and even a portable surface-to-air missile. Chant sat in the shadows and chewed his lip. He had never wanted to be this close to the action. He was once, nearly fifty years ago, but his life was much more elegant now – his private club, wonderful Cuban cigars, ancient whiskies and his art. This group looked like they had never seen anything of beauty. It was a bunch of hardened war criminals and renegades. He was glad they were on his side, even though he had dealt with them before. Even the
women cursed and were covered in tattoos with shaven heads. John fired up the projector and a series of images came onto the screen.

“This is who we are after. Take a good look. They have evaded us and some very good agents so far. We have lost a few good men to them. Do not underestimate them.”

“That’s the daughter of Peter Beckingsale,” said the Czech.

“Yes it is, Lovski,” John almost shuddered. “She is the most dangerous of all.”

John looked at Abbey’s face for an instant and then said, “The actor Glenville is a martial arts expert. You cannot go hand-to-hand with him. But there are more on their way.”

John flicked up pictures of Lone Bear and several of his security detail.

“This is Chief Lone Bear. He must also be erased. His detail is small but they are loyal fighters and have trained well. You must erase all of them.”

“Where are they?” said one of the women

“The Indians are arriving shortly and will be heading to meet the others. We know that they are staying in a hotel about ten kilometres from the city centre. We have no reason to believe there are any others here. We will wait until they all arrive and take them as one. The hotel is right next to the site of the Temple of the Minotaur at Knossos.”

In Greek mythology King Minos occupied the palace at Knossos. He had a labyrinth built to house his son, the minotaur – a half man, half bull. The palace in its day would have been an impressive building, with some of it standing over five stories tall. A labyrinth, as per the myth, had never been found in the palace, yet there were many corridors and numerous blind exits, similar to a labyrinth. It had flushing toilets in the queen’s chambers, among the first recorded in history, and it was said that during its splendour it was part of a town of over 100,000 people. After thousands of years trading with the Egyptians and Phoenicians and their search for bronze, the Minoans all but disappeared from the face of the Earth following the eruption around 1561 BC at Santorini some 80 kilometres away, with a subsequent tsunami and the sky turning black from ash raining for weeks.

The hotel that the team was staying at was right at the gate of the temple, which was joined by an ancient Minoan road that connected to the port some five kilometres away.

In the warehouse the mercenaries had formed a plan. They knew the location of the hotel where David and the others were staying, and had intel in Athens saying that Lone Bear and a small team had just boarded the chartered flight for Crete. They would be landing in a little over fifty minutes. The air held crisp in the pre-dawn atmosphere. It was decided that one platoon would plant charges beneath the old hotel and as soon as Lone Bear was inside with the others they would detonate the explosives, bringing the hotel down on top of them. People at the festival would either panic, thinking an earthquake was happening, or go into the rubble to find survivors. The second platoon of mercenaries would be part of that group, looking for survivors, ending their lives and accounting for them to John. The third platoon would be on watch for anything out of the ordinary and on standby when required. They would also help with extraction of any member of the team who required it. The plan was simple, penetrating and proficient. It would bring some newsworthiness, but overall that could be controlled.

“Just one more thing,” said John before they moved out to the site. “This is Mr C.,” he said indicating to Chant who was still watching from the shadows. “Let’s just say he is an interested party and will be along for the ride. You need to make sure he is protected at all times, Leader Three. He is your cash out. There is a bonus for a successful mission – one million Euros each.”

Eyebrows were raised and murmuring rose between individual mercenaries. Some of them now took an interest in who Chant was; before they had not, their training being that such people should be ignored.

Chant could not resist a smile. Even though this money was coming from his own personal wealth, it was a mere drop in the ocean that was his. He now knew he had a motivated professional team.

“OK. Move out,” John said “We have to be locked in and ready in forty minutes.”

John looked at the individuals moving out. Each checked their gear like a thorough professional. They were a hardened lot. He had chosen well. He had not worked with many of them before but they were misfits. They had stolen, run riot, killed for pleasure on and off the battlefield, and they were hungry. Lifestyles like these afforded no luxury. Money came and went, and the bonus had them motivated. It was more money that any of them had ever seen. He smiled and felt the dull ache of his healing cheek. His chest was black and blue from Phillip Glenville’s kick and his fingers were somewhat useless. He had been broken before. He would survive. He would fight and he would kill. John checked his weapons and took a last look around the warehouse. He joined the waiting vans and they moved out.

Tomorrow he would be a hero with the families.

35

Lone Bear’s plane landed uninterrupted at Heraklion air field. There was a car to meet the group, a large van. The driver said nothing and handed him a brand new cell phone. He checked the number he had for David and texted him.

David was drowsy, but decided to let Abbey sleep even though he was an hour past his watch time. She looked so peaceful, although he noticed a slight glow from her phone on the window in front of her. Then it went black. Suddenly his own phone beeped. No one except Lone Bear and the others had this number. He pulled the phone from the charger it was on:

We have arrived. Take the others and immediately wake the hotel owner. Demand he show you the tunnel below the
front desk. Take any guests that are there with you. Wait for me at the other end. Do not delay or you may be attacked. LB

Abbey had already stirred to the beep. Outside the festival was still going and a number of drunk people were staggering and dancing to ‘Zorba the Greek’. On viewing the message, she grabbed her own phone, checked it briefly and went to wake the others immediately.

“We must go. David, wake the owner, then let’s see if we can find others in this hotel quietly. It seems very quiet.” Abbey was on her game in less than twenty seconds.

David woke the owner in the private residence behind the office. He did not seem very happy, but complied as soon as David mentioned the tunnel. He seemed very surprised that this foreigner knew such a thing. The hotel itself was only about thirty to forty years old. Located at the west entrance to the ruins, it had nothing else around it. This was probably because of some deal done by local families that was simply not complied with years ago. David knew Greeks operated like that. The biggest problem could be overlooked in an instant and the smallest mishap could go on for years.

“What other rooms are occupied? We must get them up and out also,” David asked hastily.

“Just one. My parents are here. I normally close the hotel for the festival so I can enjoy the time with my family,” said the hotelier. In a split second David remembered again why he loved the Greeks so much. Only a Greek would close his business on the busiest day of the year because he had other priorities.

“Where are they?” David prompted.

“I got ‘em.” The voice behind him was Rocko. Standing next to him was an elderly couple in their mid-seventies, both in their night dresses. The father was still waking up and the mother was wagging her finger at Rocko. They certainly looked like what the cat dragged in, but then again who didn’t at this time of day?

“Mamma, Pappa, you must listen to this man. Come with me… quickly, I will show the way.”

Both the parents went with their son, but there was a lot of conversation and David did pick up the only word he knew in Greek as the old woman looked at Rocko and simply said, “Malaka.” Rocko just smiled and bowed (not knowing the word meant ‘wanker’).

It was right then that Abbey, Stacey and Phillip arrived. Abbey looked at David and said, “The hotel’s closed, it’s just us and the guy and his parents. Let’s go.”

With that they disappeared behind the reception desk and to a cupboard that had seemed innocuous before. This time it was open with the lock swinging freely on the latch. A simple set of steps led down below the hotel and along a tiny corridor that was actually part of the original temple but had been discovered by the owner’s father when he had the hotel foundations dug. Ahead of them the team could hear voices and a few more “malakas.” They simply followed behind, David using the flashlight on his phone to guide the way. It was a damp, dank corridor that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. After about seventy metres they came to an iron gate. The gate was open and sitting on the wall, up some steps above them, were two grumpy old Greeks in their nightgowns and the owner.