Giorgio took the phone, then listened. “Yes . . . Right away.” He hung up. “They want the tins for the Heibert shipment.”
The other man climbed onto the forklift parked near the door, turning the key. It beeped as he backed up, then turned, driving it toward a pallet near the first row of shelving.
“Hold up, Lucas,” the gray-haired Giorgio said. “I’m not sure this is the right load.” Lucas stopped the forklift as Giorgio walked over, pulled a box cutter from his belt, and slit the plastic binding the boxes to the pallet. He cut open the topmost box, pulling out an empty tin with the green and gold Kyril logo. “Wrong one,” he said, dropping it back into the box. He turned and surveyed the row of shelves closest to them, then looked in Dimitris’s direction, seeing the pallet. “Why do they keep moving these things?”
Dimitris sunk down as far as he could as Giorgio walked over. The man stood just a few feet away, cutting open the cellophane wrapper securing the cartons. He opened a box, pulling out a tin marked simply OLIVE OIL, without the distinctive Kyril logo. He nodded. “Move it out.”
Dimitris’s heart started pounding as Lucas drove the forklift toward him, sliding the forks underneath the pallet.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Sam, Remi, and Zoe moved into the trees. Once out of sight of the curious workers walking down the trail, Sam took out his binoculars to search the grounds around the processing facility.
“What’s going on?” Zoe asked. “Do you see him? Is Dimitris okay?”
“I haven’t found him yet.”
He did a quick scan, saw a couple of men in uniforms running from the scales toward one of the open warehouses. Two men in khaki coveralls stood next to a forklift. When one of them moved, Sam saw Dimitris, kneeling on the floor. The two guards ran into the open bay door. One of them pulled Dimitris to his feet, while the other closed the bay door, blocking all view inside the building. “They have him.”
“No,” Zoe said, her knees giving way. She sat on the ground, closing her eyes. “This is all my fault.”
Remi crouched beside her, putting her arm over the young woman’s shoulders. She looked up at Sam. “Don’t worry, Zoe. Sam always comes up with a plan. Right, Sam?”
When he didn’t answer, she cleared her throat, then stared at him with what he was beginning to recognize as her say something to fix this look. “Exactly,” he said. “I’ve got a plan. A good one.”
“You do?” Zoe asked.
“Absolutely. I just haven’t thought of it yet.”
“Don’t worry,” Remi
said to Zoe. “He’s like that. But he always comes through in the end.”
Zoe made a feeble attempt at a smile and then took a deep breath and said, “Right.”
Sam turned his attention back to the compound. “We need to find some way to get into the building without being seen.”
“Which one?” Remi asked.
“The warehouse on the left.” There were three main buildings fanned out in a semicircle facing out to a long graveled road that led to the port. About midway down that road, the ruins of an old stone building sat in the midst of some ancient olive trees. Had it been closer, and on the opposite side of the road, they might have been able to approach from there. Searching for another avenue, he turned back to where the harvesters were unloading sacks of olives from the mules. The fruit was placed into a massive hopper, which separated the leaves and branches from the olives on their way to the first pressing.
Remi followed the direction of his gaze. “Guess we get to be harvesters again.” They slipped into the line of workers and mules coming in off the trail, waiting to weigh their loads. The three of them watched as a couple of men in each group unloaded the heavy sacks from the backs of the mules, placing them on the scale. Once the weight was confirmed, a receipt was given to one worker, and they were directed to pick up their payment from a small reinforced cinder-block building with a steel door and steel shutters.
Gun laws in the country were strict, but Sam suspected that the amount of cash on hand probably allowed the Kyrils to acquire permits for some of their guards. He noticed several who appeared to be carrying concealed weapons. No doubt they had even more firepower in the bunker—which meant he was severely outgunned.
Not that he was about to pull out that little Smith & Wesson unless he absolutely had to.
He eyed the warehouse where Dimitris was being held. The bay door was still closed, and a guard was now posted outside the entry door. When a uniformed employee walked over, trying to enter, the guard turned him away.
Not a good sign. Clearly they weren’t getting in through the front.
“We need to find a way around to the back of that building without being seen.”
Remi nodded to the pay station. “What about over there? It probably wouldn’t be too hard to create some sort of a distraction.”
He glanced at the line of harvesters waiting to be paid. “That could work. Can you and Zoe start a commotion by the scales? If we draw enough attention from both directions, we should be able to get around to the back of the building without anyone noticing.”
The three continued down the trail until they reached the complex. Remi and Zoe broke off toward the men and women waiting in line at the pay station. Once there, Remi began talking to Zoe, then pointing to the scales. Whatever it was the two women were discussing, it seemed to catch the attention of others, as several turned to look at them. A few started asking questions, pulling out their weight receipts, comparing their paperwork with the person next to them. Within moments the agitated workers gravitated to the scales, shouting and waving their receipts. When the guards standing between them and the building started forward, Remi looked at Sam and nodded, as if to say, Your turn.