CHAPTER 10
They weren’t well-rested at ten, but were functional. Kyle knew it was a false feeling of refreshment, but he could go another twenty-four hours at this point if he had to.
Sam was waiting in the car, and drove them to a nearby cafe. “Morning,” he said. “Sorry things are screwed up. The boss is feeling guilty over it.”
“Why him? We’re the ones who lost track of the truck,” Kyle said, disgust tingeing his voice.
“You followed them this far and fought off pursuit. I’m impressed,” their host said.
Sam was short, shorter than Cafferty, and softly overweight rather than fat. He had freckles and reddish hair and might be thirty. What he was beyond a general factotum hadn’t been said. But he sounded as if he knew what was happening.
“Still,” Kyle said, “I’d like to succeed at least half the time when I’m given a location and target. Dunno about Wade.”
“Oh, count me in on the frustrated side,” Wade said. “I know I should be philosophical about it, but . . .”
“Yeah, we’ve been having that for years,” Sam said with a grimace. “But we’ll get there.”
They ate brunch at the cafe, loading up on pastries and tea. Sam made a big show of pointing out sites on a map and suggesting “photo angles” for them. It was likely a meaningless cover, but it couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t so much the government they were worried about, sluggish juggernaut that it was, but that if someone saw three American men talking without a good explanation, they’d be suspicious to the terrorists, if they had observers around.
They split afterward, Sam heading for the bus stop that would take him back to Bucharest, and the snipers to the car, another Audi. They made another tour of the village, up and down streets, looking closely at garages or alleys that might hold a large truck. They found nothing.
“Place looks like it’s frozen in the nineteen fifties,” Wade said.
“Yeah. Let’s go rest and think.” Four hours’ sleep after a grueling drive and shootout had not been enough.
They’d just entered the room when Kyle’s phone buzzed.
“Monroe,” he answered.
“Yeah, it’s Cafferty. Got anything?”
“Replacement car. Nothing on the bad guys.”
“Damn. I’m going to see about some satellite imagery. Probably a waste, but I’ve got to spend the money to be sure.”
“Any word from our friends at sea?” Kyle asked.
“No. Or rather, nothing new. Near as we can tell, that truck was definitely the shipment:”
“Damn,” Kyle said. He was saying it a lot, but it fit.
They went back to the room and napped. While being cooped in a hotel had been a drain on them before, it was a chance to rest now. Once the action started, Kyle didn’t have any trouble adapting to the local conditions. They’d been up all night, and now they needed rest. With years of military experience, all he had to do was lie down and shift against the pillow. He was out at once.
He woke two hours later, head spinning slightly but in far better shape than he had been. Once fed another meal, he should be back to himself again. Wade was stirring but still dazed, so Kyle left him alone to wake up gradually. Meanwhile, he grabbed the books they’d been using for reference and resumed reading. More intelligence was always a good idea; there wasn’t much else to do and he liked reading. Some people thought he read too much.
As with their last mission, they had tour guides and phrase books. While not in-depth, they were excellent for getting an overview in simple terms and for hitting the high points. They had several different ones, from little pocket-size language summaries to atlas-size map and photo collections.
Kyle leaned back against the bed and flipped open one of the little pocket guides. It mentioned the castles in the area, here and at Brasov, then others elsewhere. There were crude, unsealed floor plans that were hard to read on a page three inches high, and rough historical and “Did you know?” sidebars to provide dinner conversation.
As he read through the section on Bran Castle, a phrase in the book caught his eye. Then another one. They connected, and an idea formed. It was insane, and he had to run through it twice with the same solution to decide it wasn’t as crazy as it might seem. There was a lot of sense to it. Also a lot of insanity.
Wade yawned and stretched. “Think I’m done sleeping,” he grumbled deeply. It was one of the few times Kyle could recall him being less than cheerful.
“Well, then get up, sleeping ugly.”
“Right. I can’t say you’re my prime choice of roommates, either. You snore. Off key. Without any rhythm.”
“I’m white,” Kyle said.
“Ah, yes. You know how you can tell if a machinegunner’s white?”
“No, how?” he asked. This should be good.
“He fires a burst of six. A burst of seven. A burst of five. A burst of six.”
“That’s obscure,” he said. The joke had to do with white men and rhythm.
“Hey, it’s hard to make fun of people who are that boring.”
“No argument here,” Kyle said.
He picked up his phone and called again. Cafferty answered, and Kyle asked, “Any word on the truck?”
“No, nothing.”
“Okay, can you tell me where you’ve seen it?”
“Bran, Braşov, Codlea, Râşnov, Zărneşti, and Fundata, and then it disappears. Evasive turns and then gone.”
“But always in this area?”
“Yes,” Cafferty confirmed. “We’ve seen them up there, but we’re not sure where. It has to be somewhere up in the mountains, because we’ve kept a good eye on the town.”
“We’ll stay here today,” Kyle decided. “Tonight we’ll look around.”
“Got some ideas?” Cafferty asked, probing.
“A couple. Nothing concrete yet, and I don’t want to get your hopes up.” And I don’t want you thinking I’m a loon, he thought to himself. “I’ll give you an update when I have one.”
“Thanks.”
After they disconnected, he turned to Wade and said, “I need some supplies. Back soon.”
“Oh? What are you going to—”
But Kyle was already out and didn’t reply. A brief walk took him past three little shops.
It wasn’t hard to find a more detailed map of the area, as well as a guide and another, larger floor plan of the castle. Everything was set up for tourists, so all the books were in Romanian, French, English, and German. Some were in Italian and Russian. But the ones with English content were all he was interested in. Of course, being tourist oriented, most of them lacked proper scales and details. But familiarity was necessary, even if it was incomplete. He paid in cash and hurried back. On the way he bought some sandwiches at a shop near the boarding house.
“Whatcha got?” Wade asked as he charged in.
“Log on, please, and do a search for Castle Bran.”
“Okay. I see you have more guidebooks,” Wade said.
“Yes. I was thinking about secret passages underneath.”
“Secret . . . Man, you’ve flipped.”
“You think so?” Kyle asked with a grin. “Because according to Lonely Planet, there’s a labyrinth of passages concealed by the fountain in the courtyard.”
“Really?” Wade asked. He looked stunned.
“Really. Abandoned and not used. Not much more information than that, which means no one goes there.”
Wade pulled up a screen and read, “Search engine says . . . passageways.” He clicked several links into other windows and explored for several minutes. “No maps. Lots of mentions. A couple of bad photographs from people who went in a few feet.”
“Jackpot.”
“You really think they’re hiding in the castle?”
“I’d do it,” Kyle said. “It’s creepy, intimidating, and the local staff are predictable. That makes it easy to be discreet. Then there’s those passages underneath, that are just closed off and ignored. The staff never goes there, or there’d be mention and maps. No one else can get down there, and anyone who does can be easily removed and hidden. Wouldn’t be surprised to find a few bodies down there when we go in.”
“When we go in? Man, you are nuts!” Wade said. He accepted a wrapped sandwich with, “Thanks.”
“If there’s nothing there, we’ve got nothing to be afraid of,” Kyle said around a mouthful of food, wishing he believed it. The whole thing was creepier than all hell. But it was logical, if he could accept the logic. “If there’s something there, we need to observe at the very least, snatch someone, or make a kill.”
“And if we wind up as more of those bodies? What then?” Wade started munching his dinner.
“Then zey dreenk our bllluuud!” Kyle replied in a sonorous voice, hoping he could reassure himself.
“Right. Actually, if I were hiding down there, I think I’d deliberately drain a few bodies just to scare others away,” Wade said.
“Yes, that’s possible,” Kyle pondered. “Anything that will scare the shit out of people and is so ridiculous no one else will believe it. So we want a camera, weapons and IR. There’s no ambient light at all for starlight.”
“And body armor and a neck guard and garlic . . .” Wade added.
“So, I need to call Cafferty and tell him.”
“He’s going to think you’re nuts,” Wade said.
“Probably.”
“I think you’re nuts.”
Kyle shrugged. “Hell, we’re both nuts to be in this job.”
“Yeah, but I’m a good kind of nuts. Your way is just weird.”
“Right,” Kyle grinned as he punched the phone.
“Cafferty,” was the answer.
“Mick, this is Kyle. What do you know about the passageways under Castle Bran?”
“Under . . . nothing other than that they’re sealed off.”
“Yeah, well apparently you can get in. There’s a kid online with some pictures, and mention of them three or four places. Everyone knows they’re there, but no one goes down there.”
“And you think that’s where they’re hiding?”
“Who’d look there?” he asked, just as he’d asked Wade.
Cafferty paused for a long moment. “Damned good point. If there’s rooms or caverns, they could have operations there, not be seen on satellite or by plane, not have much chemical leakage . . . I think you’re on to something.”
“We’re going to check it out tonight,” Kyle said, thrilled at the validation of his theory, and trying to cover up his nerves. “Unless you want us to wait?”
“That depends. Can you do it discreetly, without making an incident?”
“That’s the plan. I’m not going to shoot any doors open or crack any walls. If we can’t find anything without making a mess, we’ll come back and let you know.”
“Go ahead, then. I’ll make a note of it right now. When will you check in?”
“Dunno. The phones won’t work under there, I’m sure. Figure no more than twenty-four hours or there’s a problem.”
“Understood. Call me with anything whenever you can.”
“Will do. Out.”
Turning back to Wade, he said, “You know, one of the big problems is transport. We have to have a car to hide the weapons in, instead of taking them on trains or in taxis . . .”
“But we can’t find parking spaces for cars like we can in America,” Wade supplied.
“Right.”
“We also can’t add too many more men, or it becomes an obvious military operation,” Wade said. “This really isn’t an Army job.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kyle said, and was quiet again. Less screwed up than last time, but still a mess.
Wade interrupted with, “So how do we get into the castle? Try to get in on a tour and slip off somewhere?”
“That’s possible,” Kyle said. “I’m sure we could do it. But there’s a lot of risk of being seen, or locked in. I think we should try from outside, through that entrance in the park. If we can get in, we should be able to get out, and it’s outside, so we can make a little noise if needed.”
“I have to wonder why that’s there. I mean, it’s too close and too obvious to be an escape route.”
“Dunno. Maintenance for the well, maybe? Or . . .” he paused for a moment, “ . . . set with traps to stop people who think they’re smart. Or at least it is now if it wasn’t before.”
“That’s a good bet,” Wade said. “And if there are nasties down there, they’re almost certain to have thought of that.”
“So we’ll take it under consideration.”
“Tomorrow night, then?”
“No. Now. They could get more reinforcements. Let’s get the weapons and move.”
“Roger that.”
They polished off the sandwiches, gathered up cameras, weapons, water, and snacks.
They dressed and carried gloves to go with their boots, and darkened their faces slightly with paint. “Not real camo, just enough to dull our faces down, so we can wipe it off in a hurry and blend back in as civvies,” Kyle said.
“Got it. Though I doubt many civvie backpackers are out this late with weapons,” Wade said.
It was late dusk, but no one questioned them on the largely silent street. They reached the area around the castle and melted into the brush. The best approach was to be relaxed and take as much time as needed, if it was available.
By 1:00 a.m., they were inside the entrance to the park, armed and ready.
“We don’t want to spook the neighbors’ dogs,” Wade said. There were houses within a quarter mile of the castle.
“We’ll just have to be slow and quiet.” It occurred to him they should have asked for more backup for insertion. It was risky to walk all that way equipped as they were, but the car, as he’d noted, would be visible. The parking lot for the castle was a bit obvious. The roads lacked shoulders for even “emergency” parking.
“That’s the plan,” Wade agreed.
They were both wearing British combat smocks under their trench coats. BDUs would have been more familiar, but anything that might confuse others as to who they were was a plus. The rucks they wore were small, dark, civilian-style daypacks made of heavy ripstop nylon, and contained cameras and batteries, plus infrared light sources to be used once they were inside the tunnel. Kyle had his Ed Brown, with the Ruger slung under his arm inside his coat. Wade had his Beretta and the AK, stock folded, under his coat. The pistols were accessible on their belts; the rifles weren’t easily deployable under the circumstances.
The forest was familiar terrain, being temperate deciduous second growth. Both men were well experienced with it. They flowed through the brush and widely spaced trees smoothly enough that had anyone seen them, they would have thought them wraiths. It was an irony they couldn’t appreciate under the circumstances.