Page 60 of The Devil's Ransom

Shakor pulled up a Google map and said, “This is it.”

Din said, “That’s no help. Look at the roads around it. Unless he lives inside, we’ll never be able to find him.”

“Look closer. The fortress is on a steep ridge, built right on themountain. The roads to the south are all below it, and there’s only one road coming in from the north.”

“So?”

“So he said he was within walking distance to the castle. He wouldn’t have said that if his house was on the south side, below the fortress and the ridge. He said that because his place is on the north, where the tourists enter.”

Din nodded and said, “Okay, that makes sense, but why does this matter?”

“Because he’s gone to Split. That’s where he is, I’m sure of it. And his house is on that northern road. As he said, ‘within walking distance’ to the castle.”

Shakor pointed at the screen and drew a circle with his finger, saying, “It’s right here. One of these. All we need to do is find it.”

“How?”

“There’s only one main road that leads to the fortress. He might be living on a side alley, but he’s going to use this road to get home. He’s within a kilometer of the entrance. We stage surveillance on that road and wait. Sooner or later, he’ll show up.”

Din squinted and said, “That’s pretty thin. He might be anywhere. Are you sure this is theGame of Thronesplace? Maybe it’s somewhere else.”

“This is it, I’m sure. They also filmed in the old town of Split, but there’s no other castle near Split that would be from the showGame of Thrones. It’s this fortress, and yes, it’s pretty thin, but we have nothing else to go on.”

Din looked at Shakor, then back at the computer screen. He said, “Okay, so what now?”

“Now we set up surveillance on that road. Could take three days, might take a week, but eventually, we’ll find him. And when we do, we’ll find the treasure.”

Chapter33

Branko heard glasses clanking in the kitchen, rolled over on the couch, and groaned. He sat up, seeing Rodavan making coffee. Pushka came out of the bedroom, saw him, and said, “Did you sleep okay?”

Branko couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. He said, “No, not at all. I’m not staying here tonight. I’m headed to the safehouse.”

Pushka smiled and said, “Not nearly the amenities we have here.”

Branko stood up and said, “At least I’ll have a bed.”

Rodavan brought him a mug and said, “Sorry about that, but you’re supposed to be at the safehouse anyway. I wasn’t going to give up my bed just because you were too tired to drive north.”

Pushka and Branko had finally arrived at Split’s old town—known as Diocletian’s Palace—and he’d parked the vehicle in a lot just outside the palace walls. He’d planned on only going up to their operational headquarters and using the T1 internet trunk to wipe his iPhone out of existence, but once that was done, he was too tired to walk back to the car and drive the thirty minutes north to the safehouse. He’d simply crashed on the couch.

He went to the window and looked out at the ancient cobblestone streets, seeing the tourists already starting to move about. Pushka was right about one thing: this location had much better amenities than the old house in the middle of the hills.

A long-term Vrbo rental, paid by Andrei, it had been pickedfor two reasons: One, it was inside the old town, which meant no vehicles were allowed, with the majority of pathways too narrow for a vehicle to traverse, something that would make escape easier if the authorities ever closed in. They had a network of IP cameras and proximity alerts for early warning, and a plan of escape that involved climbing down a pipe on the outside terrace should the worst ever happen.

Two, this Vrbo was the only one offering high-speed internet in the entire old town, a necessity for the purposes of their work. The whole of the den was blanketed with laptops, all connected via a VPN to the World Wide Web, and all of it designed to be broken down and moved at a moment’s notice, with a self-destruct feature wired into the hard drives should packing up become untenable.

It was but one of the operational locations for Dark Star, with others spread throughout Croatia all the way down to Dubrovnik, but Branko only allowed one cell to operate at any one time. The others were dormant while the Split cell was active.

Branko said, “I’m going to head up north to the safehouse and check on the guys. I’ll be back later.”

“Do you want your laptop?”

Branko thought a moment, then said, “No. I’ll be back in the afternoon. First thing I have to do is get another smartphone.” He held up his burner phone and said, “These things are shit. I’ll contact you once I get it to let you know the number.”

Branko left the apartment and went down the narrow stairwell to the street below, winding his way through the alleys until he reached the eastern gate in the city walls. He passed through it, walking by vendors setting up for the day, and continued until he reached his car, wanting to leave before the attendant arrived in the morning and charged him for the night.

He stopped once on the outskirts of the city, buying a new iPhone and paying for service, then headed north out of the city, eventually hitting the foothills, the road winding left and right in hairpin turns with spectacular views of the coastline. Having seen it a thousand times before, he ignored it, solely aggravated to be behind a tour bus going the same way he was. He tried to pass multiple times and was rebuffed by oncoming traffic, increasing his aggravation.

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