Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) (22 page)

He
swiped his thumb.

“Hello?”

“Hey,
it’s me.”

Dawson
immediately recognized Dylan Kane’s voice. Kane had been a member of Bravo Team
before joining the CIA, and had helped them out on more than one occasion, his
own team able to return the favor from time to time.

He was a
friend.

A
trusted friend.

But also
a friend he almost never heard from unless something was wrong.

“What
up?”

“I’ve
got a situation and need your help.”

Dawson
shook his head, a slight smile breaking out that quickly disappeared when he
turned and saw Maggie laughing.

I
think your vacation just ended.

“I’ve
got three days until I have to report back.”

“Let’s
hope it doesn’t take any longer.”

Uh
oh. This could be serious.

“What’s
going on?”

“The
doc’s parents have been kidnapped.”

Dawson
froze, hamburger patty balanced on a spatula. Professor James Acton was one of
the few civilians he actually trusted with his life, and one of the few he
would drop almost anything to help out. Their introduction had been
ignominious, his team having been given false intel indicating Acton was the
head of a terrorist domestic cell, and that he and his followers were on the
President’s Termination List.

It had
turned out to be all lies.

And had
cost too many innocent lives.

Not a
man involved in those infamous events had ever been able to live down the
regret of those days, the shame at what they had done, or the anger at having
been used. He had sworn he’d kill the man responsible, but someone had beaten
him to it.

Which
was probably a good thing, he liking life on this side of the prison bars.

But
Acton had been an innocent victim, and over the years he and his men had been
given numerous opportunities to help Acton and his now wife, Laura Palmer, and
these two exceptional human beings had become friends, even returning the favor
on more than one occasion, Laura Palmer incredibly rich, her open wallet saving
his men only just recently.

And if
Acton’s parents had been kidnapped, and Kane was involved, then something big
was going on.

“Do we
know who did it?”

“We’re
not sure, but it all seems to link back to some group holed up in a castle.”

Dawson’s
eyes narrowed, starting to wonder if Kane was pulling a gag on him. He glanced at
Niner, but the man wasn’t looking in his direction. If there were someone in
the Unit who would be in on a gag, it would be him.

“Castle?”

“I sense
your doubt. Trust me, I’m serious.”

“Where?”

“Northern
Italy.”

“Jesus.
What do you need?”

“A team
to infiltrate it.”

Dawson
frowned, motioning for Spock to take over the grill. “Why not the locals?”

“It was
an inside job. You remember Inspector General Giasson?”

“Head of
Vatican security? Yeah. He’s involved?”

“Yeah.
Apparently four people were killed on Vatican soil and one of them had a da Vinci painting or something. They called the professors in to authenticate it,
and a team hit the university dressed as police officers. They killed four
police and shot Giasson.”

“Is he
okay?”

“Apparently
just a flesh wound.”

“How do
you know about the castle?”

Kane
chuckled. “Well, you know our doc. He slipped his cellphone into the crate then
traced it.”

Dawson
shook his head, chuckling. “That bastard’s crazy.”

“Monster
balls, that’s for sure.”

“So I’m
guessing they discovered the phone and took his parents as leverage?”

“That’s
the working theory.”

“Okay,
so somebody talked and Giasson doesn’t know who, hence the need for an outside
team.”

“Exactly.
We need to infiltrate that castle to find out where Acton’s parents are being
held.”

Dawson
nodded. “Okay, let me talk to the Colonel, make sure it’s okay with him that I
leave the country.”

Kane
laughed. “Oh, that’s been done. He said he didn’t give a shit what you did on
your vacation. He just doesn’t want to see it on the news.”

Dawson
chuckled, it exactly what he would expect Colonel Clancy to say. Clancy was a
soldier’s soldier. He always had the back of his men, even when the brass
wanted them hung out to dry. He was probably the only officer he had
encountered that he trusted completely.

He was a
good man.

“Okay,
send me all the intel and I’ll look it over.”

“Already
done. It’s on your secure account. Laura’s given us access to funds and I’ve arranged
a private jet for you, it’s ready when you are. You’ll be met in Rome by one of
my contacts.”

“Will
you be there?”

“Negative,
I think his parents are still stateside, so I’ll be working this end.”

Dawson
nodded. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.”

He ended
the call and waved Red over.

“What’s
up, BD?”

“We’ve
got a situation.”

Red’s
eyebrows rose and he stole a quick glance back at the festivities. “What?”

“That
was Dylan. The doc’s parents have been kidnapped. We’re needed in Italy.”

Red
shook his head, a smile breaking out. “Those two are the unluckiest bastards I
have ever met.”

“True.
Canvas the guys, see who’s willing to go on a volunteer mission. I’m going to
go review the intel and figure out what we’ll need.”

“Will
do.”

Red
jogged back to the group as Dawson headed over to Maggie’s perch, kneeling down
beside her. “Something’s come up.”

“What?”

“Professor
Acton’s parents have been kidnapped.”

Her eyes
widened and she gasped, her hand darting to her chest. “Oh my God, that’s
terrible! Are they okay?”

“We
don’t know yet, but they’ve asked for our help.”

“Then
give it to them.”

His love
for her just ticked up another notch. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

She
smiled. “Bullshit. You’re itching to go help, I can see it in your face.”

He
grinned. “You know me too well.”

She
pulled his head to hers and gave him a kiss.

“Now go
do what you do best.”

CIA Safe House, Rome, Italy

“Your help should be arriving by the morning.”

“Who?”

“Friends.
You’ll know them when you see them.”

Acton
grinned at the others, the phone on speaker. Kane hadn’t said who he was
sending, though if they were friends, and he’d recognize them, it had to be
Bravo Team. The first time he had met these proud warriors they had done
everything they could to kill him.

Until
the end, when Dawson had let them live, realizing his orders had been illegal.

And over
the years, they had become friends of a sort.

Definitely
men he no longer feared, knew he could trust, and knew always had his back.

Kane had
requested Laura free up some money to help with the operation, and she had, a
special account already set up for these situations being unlocked with a phone
call.

Kane
could now fund whatever he needed to help save Acton’s parents.

“I think
I know who you mean,” said Acton, putting an arm around Laura.

“I
thought you might. They’ll infiltrate the castle and get the intel on where
your parents might be.”

Acton
sighed. “If only I hadn’t planted that cellphone.” Laura pressed herself into
him.

“It was
pretty ballsy.”

“I
wasn’t really thinking.”

Kane
laughed. “No, Doc, you were definitely thinking. You were thinking that some
painting was more valuable than your life.”

Acton
frowned, a wave of guilt sweeping through him. “You’re right. I was stupid. My
parents should be safe in their home, instead, because I put some artifact
ahead of their safety, they may die.”

“Bullshit,
Doc. Pardon my French, but you did what you always do, the right thing. In this
case, it backfired, but that’s no reason to second-guess your nature. We don’t
know anything about these people. For all we know they might have kidnapped
your parents anyway. You saw their leader, perhaps that wasn’t part of the
plan. They might have wanted this leverage over you regardless of what you
did.”

Acton
grunted. “I think you’re stretching it a little, just to make me feel good.”

“Did it
work?”

Acton
chuckled. “No. Continue.”

Kane
laughed and Reading joined in. “Listen, as far as you were concerned it was art
thieves, not some group with ties across the Atlantic and some ancient castle
hideout à la James Bond supervillain.”

“Any
idea who they are?”

“Not
yet, but we’re working on it. Langley’s cloning Laura’s phone. We’ll trace the
activity and monitor it. For now, sit tight until the cavalry arrives and don’t
contact anyone.”

“What
about Mario?”

“Especially
him. He’s almost definitely being watched.”

“Should
we warn him?”

“No,
then they’ll know we’re onto them.”

“Won’t
they already know now that we gave them the slip?”

“Not
necessarily. That loose end was taken care of.”

“How?”

“The
less you know, the better. Let’s just say that right now, you’re exactly where
you’re supposed to be.”

Ambasciatori Palace Hotel, Rome, Italy

Abbadelli listened to the recording, smiling. He loved his job. The
shit that Langley could pull together on such short notice was jaw dropping at
times, and this was no exception. No, the tech was nothing spectacular, at
least not in this day and age, it was the fact that someone had come up with
the idea, executed it and got it into his hands to implement it, all in a matter
of hours, from the other side of the planet, was phenomenal.

He had
returned to Acton’s hotel room and with his spare phone—for he always had
one—played the recording Langley had sent him, instructions appearing on the
screen as to what he was supposed to do.

Press
play, open door.

He had
entered the room.

Close
door.

He had.
A conversation between Acton, his wife, and their Interpol friend then played
from the speaker of his phone, all three voice actors employed at Langley,
their voices then altered by computer to sound as close as possible to the real
thing.

Enough
to fool anyone not expecting deception.

The end
result were Acton and his wife heading into the bedroom to sleep, Reading on
the couch, his snores now playing from the phone Abbadelli had been instructed
to leave on the couch where Reading’s head would be. A sweep by another agent
before he had arrived had determined there was a single bug in the suite,
placed under the table in the living area, nothing in the bedrooms.

If the
deception worked, anyone listening would assume the three friends had returned
to their hotel room after a quick meeting with Giasson’s man, who they had
apparently told nothing to about the kidnapping, then decided to get some sleep
since they had none the night before.

It would
hopefully be enough to fool their adversaries for at least several hours,
perhaps more.

He
carefully opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, gently closing the
door, cringing at the click.

Let’s
hope they didn’t hear that.