Page 102 of The Devil's Ransom

Branko had gulped and started driving. That had been over five hours ago, and since that time the sun had long since set and a steady rain had begun to fall, making it hard to see the road.

Eventually they’d reached the outskirts of Plitvice Lakes National Park and he’d begun to think about escape. He was sure if he led them to the treasure they’d just trade his body for the box, each kilometer ratcheting up the tension. He recognized the turnoff he’d used to hide the box and saw headlights with bodies moving around the vehicle. He’d pulled over, regretting it instantly. He should have parked right behind them and exited. He didn’t know what they were doing, but any help at this stage would be welcome.

Shakor said, “They’re getting back in the car. Wait until they leave.”

Branko did, breathing through an open mouth, the adrenaline rocketing. He knew he was close to dying. The vehicle left and he stayed where he was. Shakor tapped him on the head with the barrel of his weapon and said, “Go.”

Branko parked in the same spot he’d used with Pushka and killed the engine. Shakor said, “What now?”

He turned around and said, “We have to go into the park. It’s not an easy walk, especially with the rain. Do you guys have lights? Headlamps or something else?”

Shakor looked at Karim and Ghulam. Both shook their heads. He said, “We have the lights on our phones. Let’s go.”

They exited the vehicle in the rain, the narrow strobes of the smartphone lights doing more harm than good. They jumped the railing to the park and Branko led them to the narrow stairwell leading down to the caves, the lights from the phone strobing the area like an alien landing. They began climbing down, the Afghans cursing as they went, sometimes slipping on the wet stone. They reached the bottom, all of them panting, and Shakor said, “Where?”

Branko crawled over a railing and led them to the large cave chamber. Shakor shined his cell phone light about, the beam not strong enough to penetrate, and said, “Where is it?”

Branko said, “Follow me. The light isn’t strong enough.” Shakor did so, and Branko walked to the edge of the cave, circling it in the feeble light. His light hit a hole at ground level and he said, “This is it. You have to worm your way in, but on the other side you’ll find a Pelican case. That’s where I put it.”

Shakor motioned for Ghulam to enter and Branko said, “It’ll take more than one to get it out. It might take all three. It’s heavy.”

Shakor smiled and said, “Let’s see if it’s there first before I leave you alone in here.”

Ghulam went through the hole and then Branko heard him curse. He came back out with a Pelican case, but it was small, about the size for a pistol. He exited the hole, now covered in grime, and said, “What is this?”

Branko was shocked. He said, “That... that isn’t it.”

Ghulam raised his pistol and pointed it at his head, saying, “You have tricked us for the last time, infidel.”

Shakor shouted, “Wait! Stop!”

Ghulam glowered at him and said, “Let’s kill him now. I’m sick of this.”

Shakor said, “We kill no one until we get the treasure. Open that case.”

Ghulam knelt down and snapped the latches. They gathered around and saw a small iPad inside. Shakor said, “What is that? Did you leave it here?”

Completely confused, Branko said, “I have no idea. I swear that’s where I left the box. It was in there, but that case was not.”

Ghulam pushed the home button on the iPad and it sprang to life, showing a note in full screen.

It read,I have your treasure and you have mine. I want to exchange one for the other. If you want to see yours again, Branko stays alive. He is my treasure. And this is yours.

Beneath the text was a harsh photo taken in this very cave, showing the Bactrian Treasure inside a large Pelican case.

Underneath that was a phone number, with the words,Callif you want it back, but if Branko is dead, the treasure is gone.

Shakor looked at Branko and said, “What is going on? Is it the Russian? Does he care about you that much?”

With wide eyes, Branko said, “I have no idea.”

Chapter59

George Wolffe had never been to a National Security Council meeting in the middle of the night, but then again, he’d never been in the upper echelons of the United States government. He remembered the picture of President Obama and his staff sitting around this very table when Osama bin Laden had been killed, and supposed it happened from time to time for significant events. Which this was.

The national security advisor, Alexander Palmer, was chairing the meeting, and he was not allowing any cross talk. It was after midnight, and they’d almost run out of time to prevent a catastrophe. All that remained after was to determine the response.

He said, “Okay, let’s start with State. What’s the response from the Iranians? It’s been close to twelve hours now. What are they saying?”

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