Jen was not going to be scared into submission. Pushing the guard’s hands from her shoulder, she stood and ran to Mitchell’s side.
Romanov stood. With a snap of his fingers at the nearest guard, he said, “Take Mister Mitchell to the doctor and see that he gets treated for his injuries before being locked up in a room that is easily guarded.”
The guard nodded, bent down, and then dragged Mitchell’s unconscious body out of the room.
Romanov looked over at his henchman. Teplov was starting to become a liability. He knew that he would have to re-examine his relationship with him once the mission was over. “You can go as well, Teplov,” said Romanov, brusquely dismissing the man from his sight.
Teplov opened his mouth to say something, but saw the look of displeasure growing on Romanov’s face. Knowing he had no option but to obey, he turned and stormed out of the room.
The door slammed shut. An awkward silence filled the room.
“Miss March, I honestly mean you and Mister Mitchell no harm,” said Romanov disingenuously.
“Like back at the oil refinery, when you sent your bitch of a daughter to take me away and kill my mother?” said Jen defiantly as she stared into the cold dark eyes of Nika Romanov.
“Miss March, please believe me when I tell you that it was all a big misunderstanding,” pleaded Romanov.
Jen shot Romanov a look of disbelief. He was lying, and she knew it. She just wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince of his innocence.
“Mister Romanov, you have what you wanted, and yet you allowed your goon to almost kill Ryan,” said Jen angrily. “If you are an honorable man, you’ll keep your end of the bargain, please let us go in peace. You’ve won, none of this matters to us.”
“That may be so, Miss March, but Mister Mitchell is in no state to travel, not after Teplov’s unfortunate temper tantrum,” said Romanov offhandedly. “Besides I want you both around tomorrow, when the real impact of what I am planning to accomplish comes to fruition. Since your friend has delivered to me what I want, I can’t see the harm in you both spending another day with me before I let you go free.”
Jen knew that Romanov was lying. Why, she could not fathom; nor did she care anymore.
A moment later, the door opened and a female employee, dressed like the other guards in a deep-blue police style uniform, stepped inside. Romanov gave her orders to escort Jen to her room and to stay with her until called.
Once Jen was gone and the door closed, Romanov proudly looked over at his two daughters. They were so close to achieving their goal. Now, barely twenty-four hours separated them from destiny.
“Nika, be a dear and take possession of the consort’s crown from the guards,” said Romanov.
“Of course, Father,” replied Nika.
Turning his head, he looked over at Alexandra. “Now would be the opportune time for you to contact our rebel friends and tell them I want them to mass their forces and re-double their efforts. The government needs to be on its knees begging for Western assistance by the end of the day tomorrow, or I will cut off their funding. Make sure they understand that I mean what I say.”
Alexandra smiled and nodded.
“Now, I need to know if the preparations for the placement of the bombs are going according to schedule,” said Romanov.
“I spoke with Chang less than an hour ago,” replied Alexandra. “Everything is going to plan. We can fly the bombs ashore just before dawn tomorrow, and within a few hours they will be ready for detonation.”
“Superb news, my dear,” said Romanov, relishing the thought of crippling the West’s supply of North Sea oil while leaving just enough clues to lead the West’s intelligence agencies back to the nationalist rebels in Russia. In one move, he would assume power in Russia, while making a new and very profitable sale of Russian oil to Western Europe to make up for the loss of their rigs up and down the Norwegian coast.
33
“His transponder just went active!” exclaimed Fahimah, as she brought up a map of Iceland on her laptop screen. Quickly scrolling over to Mitchell’s signal, Fahimah pointed to a satellite image of Romanov’s yacht anchored off a small island’s western shore. Mitchell’s signal was coming from the ship.
Leaving Algeria by another route, the remainder of Mitchell’s team, along with Mrs. March, had flown to Iceland and set up a temporary office in an apartment suite near the airport. Yuri had left almost right away to see about renting a helicopter or plane from a local company.
Jackson leaned over Fahimah’s shoulder and stared intently at the image on the screen. “I had hoped they would be somewhere ashore,” said Jackson. “It’s far easier to get to them there than off some damn boat, especially this time of the year.”
“He hasn’t sent a distress code yet, so perhaps things aren’t going too badly,” said Sam optimistically.
“Sam, please; do you honestly believe that family of psychopaths is going to allow Mitchell to simply waltz out the front door with Miss March?” said Jackson, trying not to sound too blunt.
“No, but I can always hope, can’t I?” said Sam with a shrug of her shoulders.
“So I take it we’ll need to look at two options for extraction,” said Cardinal, “one by land and one by sea.”
“Yeah, looks that way,” said Jackson, wishing things were not so difficult. On the flight to Iceland, they had discussed the various options open to them to get Mitchell and Jen back. Now, faced with the prospect of mounting a waterborne rescue in the cold waters of the North Atlantic, Jackson’s skin began to crawl.
“Shall I open a secure link to General O’Reilly?” asked Fahimah.
“Yeah, I’d better pass on the good news,” replied Jackson unenthusiastically.
General O’Reilly’s image came up on the screen a minute later. He looked haggard and tired. It seemed no one was getting any rest these days. Jackson filled him in on what had occurred since they had all left Algiers and the two options facing them to get Mitchell and Jen back.
“Sounds tricky to say the least,” replied O’Reilly, his mind still digesting the details of what Jackson had passed on.
“The ship looks like it’s anchored a few hundred meters from shore,” said Cardinal, looking down at a satellite image on the computer screen.
“So you could possibly use the island as a staging area,” suggested O’Reilly.
Jackson nodded. “Right now, we’re looking at taking a flight over there later today, after Yuri finishes getting the gear we need. If they remain at sea, Cardinal will cover us from the island, while Sam and I will make our way to the ship and try and quietly find Ryan and Miss March once we get the signal to proceed.”
“Not the soundest plan I’ve ever heard,” said O’Reilly.
“Sorry, sir, but it’s all we’ve got to go on right now,” Jackson said.
Donaldson joined the conversation. “Ok folks, here’s what I’ve been able to determine so far. A couple of years ago, the Romanov Corporation leased the island from the Government of Iceland for exploratory mining, which they are conducting at the base of an extinct volcano. This arrangement, along with the Romanovs’ ongoing quest to develop Iceland’s nascent oil industry on the surrounding sea floor, should generate billions over the next ten to twenty years for Iceland’s hard-pressed economy. So I doubt that his activities have been properly scrutinized, if at all, by the local authorities.”
“Thanks, Mike,” said O’Reilly wearily.
“General, I hate to say it, but you look exhausted,” said Jackson, looking into the bloodshot eyes of his boss.
“Yeah, I guess I do,” O’Reilly replied stoically. “I haven’t slept a wink since we last spoke. I’ve been working the phones with my former associates in the administration trying to get a better handle on what the president is planning to do about Russia. My sources tell me that the vice-president is planning to talk with Romanov about assuming the Presidency of Russia, should he be called upon to do so,” O’Reilly paused, took a sip of water, and then continued. “From what I’m being told, the VP will be contacting Dmitry Romanov sometime before midnight tonight, to offer him the administration’s unconditional support should the situation continue to deteriorate in Russia. In addition, poor old Mike Donaldson has been cashing in favors left and right with his friends in the intelligence community. He's been trying to find out the real, no bull truth behind Dmitry Romanov, and what he’s uncovered is quite disturbing if it turns out to be even half true.”