The Warsaw Protocol (Cotton Malone 15)

“Let’s deal with that later,” he said to her, knowing she was thinking the same thing.

She nodded. “You do know, in 1978, this was one of the first places ever given the distinction of being a World Heritage Site.”

He caught the significance of her humor. “I’ll try to be careful.”

And he thought of Sonia. Was she aware of this latest development? The Agencja Wywiadu ranked as a first-rate intelligence agency. If Warner Fox knew the Russians were still in the game, the AW would know that, too. And Sonia would not be confined by rules or fobs.

He needed to stay alert.

The plan? In and out. Fast. Clean.

No mistakes.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Czajkowski walked with Sonia.

They’d first found the car Malone had used, parked in a public lot, minus the sacred relics Sonia had said were lying on the rear seat back in Slovakia. He didn’t really care about those. Poland’s national treasure had been recovered, the rest were somebody else’s problem. He was worried, though, about being recognized. No street clothes this time like at the monastery. One good thing was that the vast majority of people around him were tourists who had no idea what the president of Poland looked like.

But he’d feel better once they were inside.

After locating Malone’s vehicle, they drove farther into the royal free mining town of Wieliczka, to Zupny Castle, where Zima had directed them. Named for the zupnik, the royal administrator of the salt mine, who once lived inside, it had stood since the 13th century but like much of Poland was destroyed during the war. Surprisingly, it was rebuilt during the time of the communists. The attractive Gothic castle now came with a fortified wall, tower, and outbuildings that housed mining exhibitions where visitors discovered the history of both Wieliczka and its mine.

But they’d not come for the sights or an education.

They parked in another public lot and walked up a tree-lined, cobbled path to the castle entrance. Waiting for them was a short, stumpy man in a suit who introduced himself as the mine manager. Apparently Michal Zima had some serious connections and had gone straight to the top, conveying the appropriate instructions about not making a big deal over what was happening.

“I appreciate your assistance,” he said to the manager. “We need to know the exact whereabouts of two people who are here, on site.”

“That was explained to me by your security people. We have full video surveillance of the entire facility.”

He was not in the mood for chitchatting.

“Then please, take us to the monitoring station.”

* * *

The central security office sat within the castle walls and looked like something out of the space program with one wall sheathed in high-definition screens. Each displayed a different slice of both the exterior and interior of the mine.

“There are three main ways down,” the manager said. “We’ve been watching them all.” The man motioned to one of the attendants. “We found the car when it arrived.”

On one of the screens the crisp image of Malone and an older woman came into view as they exited the vehicle they’d just seen, stopping only to remove the relics from the backseat and place them in the trunk.

“That’s Stephanie Nelle,” Sonia said. “Head of the Magellan Billet.”

The two Americans then walked from the parking lot onto the grounds and approached the building that housed the Danilowicz Shaft. They were met by a petite, blond woman, dressed in tan coveralls, then all three headed away from the tourist area.

“I’ve learned that the American Polish ambassador was in contact with our communications office,” the manager said. “He arranged for Patrycja, the woman you just saw, to meet the two visitors. She’s one of our guides. She took them to the miners’ entrance where they dressed and descended about five minutes ago. I delayed them as long as I could without drawing suspicion.”

“Where are they in the mine?”

“Level IX. There are no cameras there, but all guides carry trackers that we can monitor. Mr. President, can I inquire as to the nature of this?”

“You can. But it’s a matter of state security. The two people on Level IX are American intelligence agents. It’s imperative they do not wander out of your electronic sight. And we need to go down there.”

Sonia motioned for them to step aside together.

They left the room and stood alone out in a hallway.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

He looked at her puzzled.

“We?” she said. “Why don’t you let me handle it.”

“It’s my life that’s at stake.”

“You’re the president of this country. Act like it.”

Her tone was sharp.

So he made no attempt to hide his frustration, either. “You told me this was over. You told me it was handled. It wasn’t.”

“We have no idea what’s going on here. Yes, it bears investigating, then a decision can be made once we know the facts. Right now we’re speculating. Even worse, we’re guessing. What you’re doing smacks of desperation.”

“I am desperate. I’ve worked my whole life to get to this point. I won’t allow that opportunity to be taken from me. Not without a fight.”

These were the first cross words that had ever passed between them, and he hated they were being said. But he meant every one. He’d worked too long and too hard to be cut short now. If salvation waited below, then salvation he would find.

Her eyes softened. “You’re in my charge. There’s a clear danger here.”

“From Malone? I didn’t think he was a problem.”

“We have no idea who’s here. The Russians could be around. I can’t be cavalier about your safety. We should inform the BOR.”

“There’s little they can do.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “All the more reason to proceed with caution.”

He stared at her and saw she could read his thoughts.

“All right,” she said, resignation in her voice. “We’ll go together.”

She turned for the door.

He grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry for blaming you. I know you only did what you thought necessary. Killing Olivier could not have been easy.”

“I did what had to be done.” She paused. “And if I’d thought for a moment we’d end up here, right now, with this dilemma, I would have handled it differently. I genuinely thought this was over.”

“I know. Again. I’m sorry.”

They stepped back into the control room.

“We’re ready,” he told the manager. “We’ll need a way to track the guide, Patrycja, from down there.”

“We have handheld monitors.”

Sonia’s gaze was locked on the screens. Hard to tell which one had grabbed her attention.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Look there, on the fourth one down from the top, right side.”

He did and saw four men, dressed in coveralls, walking toward an elevator. All wore hard hats with lights.

“That’s Eli Reinhardt and his man Munoz.”

He knew the names.

“The big one is Ivan.”

He knew that name, too. Fox’s declaration about the Russians had not been idle chatter. He pointed at the screen and asked, “Where is that?”

“The Regis Shaft. Not far from here.”

“They can get to Level IX from there?” Sonia asked.

The manager nodded. “Of course. But it’s a walk.”

He pointed at the screen. “Who’s with them?”

The manager studied the screen. “It’s one of our guides. Dawid Konrad.”

“We’ll need to track him, too,” Sonia said.

But he doubted that was going to be a problem.

Since they were all headed to the same place.