The Emperor's Revenge (Oregon Files 11)

“I’m coming with you,” Gretchen said. “You may need someone who’s an accounting expert to sort out whether he’s giving you good information.”

Juan paused for a moment as he thought about the implications of having her aboard the Oregon and then realized she was right. She could prove helpful, both for her financial expertise and her connections to Interpol and the CIA.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll have Max set up some quarters for you.”

“Thanks. But there’s one other thing you should know, another reason we thought the information wasn’t credible.”

“What’s that?”

“We thought whoever sent the tip was trying to lure us into a trap. If we had sent in Interpol agents, there could have been a nasty scene.”

“Because of the Albanian government?”

Gretchen shook her head. “Vlorë Castle was built by the Venetians in the fifteenth century and refurbished five years ago by its owner, a businessman named Dalmat Simaku. He’s also thought to be one of the biggest crime bosses in the Albanian Mafia.”

FOURTEEN

Juan had the Oregon sail the minute they stepped on board in Palermo. Slowing only to pass through the Strait of Messina between Sicily and the Italian mainland, they pushed forty-five knots the entire way and made the three-hundred-and-fifty-mile trip to Albania in less than eight hours.

By the next morning, the Oregon was holding station in the Adriatic Sea ten miles from Vlorë Castle, which clung to the end of a rocky peninsula studded with low shrubs and wild olive trees. The terrain reminded Juan of the California chaparral near Santa Barbara. The castle had been built as a fortress, guarding the entrance to a natural harbor, where an Albanian Coast Guard station now stood five miles away on the other side of the peninsula from the Oregon. Vlorë had a commanding view from its perch on the rugged coast, its thick stone walls rising fifty feet above the water.

Openings in the rim were spaced to allow cannons and archers to fire from protected positions, both toward the sea and at the gravel road that led up to an iron gate sealing the entrance. Instead of a single structure, the castle was more like a wall surrounding a village of ten stone buildings scattered around a central yard. The broad wall had a walkway down the middle to allow for patrols of two or three men, side by side, who could look over the stone battlements at the ocean on one side and the central courtyard on the other. Round twin towers flanked the front gate, where the road ended.

Juan had a detailed view of the castle courtesy of a drone, circling far above and using its high-definition camera. He was watching the feed on his cabin’s wall screen while he poured coffee that Maurice had brought him. So far, the only movement he’d seen was four guards, who lazily patrolled the grounds.

He answered a knock at his cabin door. “Come in.”

Max Hanley entered with Gretchen, who was carrying her own cup of coffee.

“Good,” Juan said as he took a sip from his cup, “you found the mess hall.”

“More like five-star dining room,” she said in wonder. “Private work is treating you all well.”

Max regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Juan asked. “I know that look and it makes me worried.”

“Gretchen told me something very interesting on the walk from the mess hall,” he said with obvious enjoyment.

“I was telling him about our mission to Moscow,” she said. “No classified details, of course. Just that you and I were married for three weeks during the operation.”

“You left out that little bit,” Max said to Juan. “That it was for a mission.”

Gretchen looked from Max to Juan in surprise and then laughed. “You mean you thought the two of us were married for real?”

“Someone wasn’t very clear on that.”

Juan nonchalantly took another sip of coffee and with a smile said, “Did I forget to mention that part?”

“Yes, you did.”

“We were both married at the time to other people, but the operation called for a couple, so Juan and I were tapped for the job. Mr. Gabriel Jackson and his wife, Naomi.”

They had never worked together again until now, and Juan was still wary about how the past might affect the present mission.

“Just when you think you know a guy . . .” Max said with a sly grin.

“Maybe he’s had other wives that even I don’t know about,” Gretchen said.