A Dubious Position (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 7) Page 8

  “That’s possible,” Banyon admitted.

  “You said was,” Loni interrupted.

  “That’s right, she is also dead, but has left a legacy. According to our research, she married a powerful American who was pro-Nazi. They had a son who is now a very prominent public figure.”

  “His name is Paul Slezeck. He is the Director of Homeland Security,” Banyon suddenly threw out.

  “How did you know?” Maya asked with a surprised and annoyed look on her face. All the women in the room suddenly had their hands on their hips, a sure sign he was in trouble for guessing the name.

  “Actually, Wolf told me this morning that Slezeck is working on a plan and we needed to go after him,” he sheepishly replied.

  “Well, why am I doing all this work if Wolf can tell you everything?” an indignant Maya demanded as she threw up her arms in disgust.

  “Actually, he can’t. He can see everything, but, that covers a lot of ground. He needs a name and a reference point to start. We now have both for the three people left on the list,” he said brightly while trying to deflect their ire.

  “What else has he told you that you have not passed on to us?” Previne spat out sarcastically. “You know, since you have been tied up with your new position, you don’t pay any attention to any of us anymore.”

  Eric was moving back from the island. He could see that the Patel sisters and Loni were pissed and he didn’t want any of their wraths to come down on him.

  “But I only started today,” he said defensively.

  “That’s no excuse for ignoring your friends,” Previne spat back. Loni was nodding her head in agreement.

  “He made $440,000 dollars today at the office,” Loni said. It sounded as if the money was tainted. “I had to drag it out of him, too.” She looked at him accusingly.

  “I’ll bet he is keeping it all to himself, selfish lout that he is,” Previne began throwing more gas on the fire.

  “Yeah, he cares more about the President then he does you, Loni,” Pramilla said as she whipped the flames into a firestorm. Banyon could feel the growing hostility. Anger now fuelled the women in his life. They were all mad at him. He was now consumed with stress. What have I done to deserve this?

  “Okay, I’ll talk, just stop browbeating me,” he said in surrender and threw up his hands defensively.

  “Now, we are getting somewhere,” Previne said as she slammed her hand on the counter top. “Tell us what Wolf said today. What were you involved in at the office?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell anyone about today,” he started. He noticed the women become rigid with their fists clinched. They were about to blow. “But I want nothing hidden between us,” he lied when he continued.

  “Spill the beans, Colton,” Previne demanded. Her body was shaking with frustration; a furrow had developed, on her forehead. Banyon thought she looked rather alluring.

  “The President’s granddaughter was kidnapped by a drug cartel in Cancun. Wolf and I helped the President get her and five other girls freed. It was a very stressful day and now I have to deal with all of you chewing on my ass.”

  “Oh, I had no idea,” Maya said as she brought her hand to her mouth.

  “I saw it on the news,” Loni suddenly added. “Over fourteen people died, but none of them were Americans.”

  The women recoiled in horror. They had been involved in many gun battles in the recent years and in the last one they had lost Agent Gregory Gamble.

  “That’s right, so you can’t tell anyone,” Banyon pleaded. “There are many people involved. The Mexican President thinks Americans came to his country to do the killing, which, of course, we did.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Previne quickly said as she made a gesture like closing a zipper on her pouty lips.

  “It gets worse. The dead cartel leader was recently talking to someone in Washington D.C. They had provided the information about the granddaughter to the cartel. The President wants me to find out who made the call. I was going to ask Wolf a little later. Wolf told me earlier today the kidnapping was part of a bigger plan by the Effort. It was controlled by Paul Slezeck. Is that enough information?” Banyon replied sarcastically.

  “Oh,” Previne exclaimed.

  “And for your information, I have already told Loni to use some of the money to add desks in her office for each of you. We are also going to put in a state of the art communications system for you to use.” Loni shook her head in agreement. Her ponytail whipped up and down.

  “Yeah, he did, but it was only after I threatened to go to his office and scope out the women there,” Loni announced. This raised eyebrows on all the women. The Patel women were also very jealous of any woman that looked at Banyon.

  “I was going to offer the money anyway Loni,” Banyon said sincerely. “I was just trying to keep everything secret.”

  “I’m sorry for doubting you, Colt,” Pramilla the career diplomat quickly said. “You’re right; this information can never get out. It could create an international incident. I don’t think America wants to go to war with Mexico.”

  “I don’t know if Wolf can tell me the plan because it would be telling me the future, but I don’t think the kidnapping was just an opportunity. I think there will be more incidents. Wolf told me that Slezeck wants the President distraught, so he could further his goals, whatever they are.”

  “Why don’t you talk to him right now and get some answers?” Pramilla proposed.

  “I have several questions for Wolf that only the President should know the answers too,” Banyon replied. “Besides, he is always tricky with his responses. I need a quiet environment to talk to him,” Banyon said defensively.

  “In other words,” Previne said, “You want us to go.”

  Before Banyon could respond, Maya cut in. “Well, we need to discuss the other reason we are here first.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  For most of its history, Laredo, Texas, had been a small prosperous city on the Mexican border. It is separated from Mexico by the, not very wide, Rio Grande River. The sister city of Nuevo Laredo, Mexico, is twice the size of the American Laredo. It is home to around a half a million people. Ninety-five percent of the citizens of Laredo, Texas are Latino and Hispanic, with the vast majority of them having Mexican roots.

  Laredo, Texas was originally a part of an independent republic known as the Republic of the Rio Grande, but had been folded into Mexico by force. At the end of the Mexican-American War, in the mid-eighteen hundreds, the land north of the Rio Grande River was ceded to the United States. It is one of the oldest border crossing points along the lengthy U.S. and Mexican border.

  Today, it is a major transportation and warehousing hub for goods flowing in and out of Mexico. Roughly half of all the goods the U.S. exports to Mexico pass through the port city, and about a third of Mexico’s exports are hauled over the five international bridge crossings and railroad lines. As a result, it is also a major crossing point for illegal drugs.

  For nearly a decade, at least two drug cartels have fought for control of the drug trafficking trade on both sides of the border. The majority of violence is confined to Nuevo Laredo, but some does spill into the U.S. side. On any given day, gunshots in Nuevo Laredo can be heard on the American side of the border. Carjacking, kidnapping, extortion and seemingly random shootings are common place. With the constant flow of drugs and the continued number of illegal aliens slipping across the border, the Border Patrol is undermanned, out gunned, often out maneuvered. It can do little to help the Mexican authorities. However, there are people who get involved. These people report the news.

  KAVT is a Spanish speaking entertainment station located in the heart of downtown Laredo. The news department consisted of two anchors, Mia Chavez and Alberto Delgado, and a crew of six other people who ran the cameras, the sound equipment, and directed the news. In order to build ratings, the two anchors, much to the protests of management, had ventured into Mexico several times, in an attempt to prov
ide investigative reporting to their viewers. They had uncovered several names of cartel members and even a location of a cartel warehouse in the U.S. They had been threatened many times and ordered to drop the investigation, by phone, email and letters. But they believed what they did was important.

  The news segment started at eleven o’clock each evening during the week, just as the rest of the staff went home for the evening. The station signed off at mid-night. There usually was no one else in the building during the news broadcast.

  At about the same time as Banyon and his team were hugging each other, the pretty anchorwoman, Mia Chavez went live and started reporting the news. Suddenly, noise of a commotion could be heard in the background. Her eyes grew wide as a man dressed in Mexican army fatigues walked brazenly onto the set. His head was covered by a black ski mask and he carried an automatic gun in his hand. He walked behind the two anchors. They were frozen with fright. He placed the gun on the back Alberto Delgado’s head.

  In Spanish, he began to talk. “My friends, we have warned you many times to stop reporting the news of our business. It is time we end this. Say good night Alberto,” the man said loudly.

  The stunned anchorman hesitated for a minute, causing the hooded man to nudge him with the gun. “Good night,” Delgado whispered. The hooded man nodded in agreement. He then shot him, in the head, on screen. Mia screamed, but was made quiet as the man moved the smoking gun to her head.

  “Shut up, bitch,” he growled. “Don’t move a muscle.” Mia heard six more shots as all of the news crew were shot by other men off camera. She was now alone in the news room with several killers.

  The hooded man then thrust a sheet of paper into her hands and said, “Read it.”

  Mia stared at the paper. She was unable to understand the words because of her absolute terror. She knew she was going to die. “I can’t,” she muttered.

  “You will live if you read it,” the hooded man announced. “Otherwise, you will receive the same treatment as Delgado.”

  With tears streaming down her face, Mia began to read what was written on the paper in front of her. She had just finished saying the first two words, when the hooded man roared and slapped the back of her head.

  “Say it in English, so all Americans can understand.”

  She tried to compose herself and wiped the tears away with her hand. She was resigned to dying, but decided she needed to act dignified and make her life count. She sat up straighter in her seat and looked at the camera as she held the paper in front.

  “Americans stop interfering in business that does not involve you. This is our business, not yours. Today your government killed several innocent Mexican citizens — on Mexican soil no less. This is an act of war. Those responsible must come forward and accept our justice. If this does not happen by tomorrow night, at this time, we will execute more of you. No one is safe. We are always watching.”

  Mia then dropped the paper and prepared to be shot in the head.

  “Now sign off, Mia,” the hooded man ordered.

  She immediately said. “This is Mia Chavez reporting. Good night.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Okay, what’s the other reason that you are here?” Banyon questioned Maya suspiciously.

  “Well, it has to do with what else I found in the ledger,” Maya replied. “There were more than just names in it.”

  “So, what else is written in it?”

  “There’s a treasure map and we are going to find that treasure,” Previne announced excitedly as she jumped up and down like a school girl.

  “What kind of treasure?” Banyon asked.

  Ignoring his question, Previne spoke rapidly. “But we need Loni to go with us to hunt for it.”

  Surprised by the comment, Loni was suddenly suspicious herself. “Why would you want me to go with you, even if I could go?”

  “Because you need to help us sail the ship,” Pramilla said matter-of-factly.

  “Is it a boat or a ship?” Banyon needed qualification.

  “What’s the difference?” Pramilla asked as she showed frustration by flapping her slender arms.

  “A ship is big enough to carry a boat. A boat cannot carry a ship,” Banyon replied to qualify.

  “It’s a boat then,” Pramilla replied.

  “What boat?” Loni asked as excitement started to build in her little body. She was bouncing up and down now too.

  “The one that an old friend is lending us so we can sail to the spot and dive for the treasure, of course” Pramilla informed her.

  “Oh, my God,” Loni exclaimed. “I need to pack.” She started to leave the kitchen island even before she knew where she was going. Her impulsive nature had gotten her in trouble many times before.

  “But you’d better hurry, our private plane leaves in two hours,” Pramilla pointed out. “I’ve also gotten one of my friends to lend us his corporate jet while he is in prison. We’ll be gone at least four days. Pack several bathing suits.”

  Banyon was confused and panicked. He knew he and Loni were being railroaded and he had to put a stop to it. Holding up his hands, Banyon said. “Hold on, let’s start at the beginning. Maya what did you actually find? Let’s start there.”

  “Alright,” she said. “As you know, Kammler was very detail oriented,” she replied. “One of the pages in the ledger contained notes he had written about another member of the Effort. The notes were dated July 23rd, 1939.”

  “That was probably just before he visited the cave in Death Valley for the last time,” Pramilla noted.

  “Right,” Maya told her. “Anyway, the notes were about additional German plunder. It seems an Effort member, his name was Gregor Kahn, was supposed to deliver a small chest loaded with diamonds and other precious stones to someone in Istanbul. He was to smuggle the loot into South America and put it in a bank vault there. The stones were earmarked for the Effort fund for America.”

  “Where did they come from?” Banyon suddenly asked.

  “From what I can tell,” Maya said, “they came from Romanian Jews. At that time, Romania was an ally of Germany, which meant the Jews in Romania were being systemically stripped of their possessions and lives.”

  “But something happened,” Previne butted in.

  “Right again sis,” Maya agreed. “Kahn traveled by land from a town called Bacau in Romania, to the Ukrainian port, of Odessa,” she then paused to let that sink in.

  “But that was under communist control then,” Banyon the historian pointed out to the women.

  “He was disguised as a peasant,” Maya told him. “He hired a fishing boat to take him out into the Black Sea. At sea, he transferred to a fast-attack German torpedo boat, known as a Schnellboot.”

  “The allies called them E-boats — for enemy boats,” Banyon quickly pointed out. “They were mostly used in the Mediterranean Sea, but some made their way into the Black Sea during the war.”

  “And they were hunted down by the communists. They controlled the Black Sea,” Maya continued. “This E-boat was no exception. Soon after Kahn transferred over, the E-boat came under attack by several communist war-ships. Kahn realized he was never going to make it to Turkey, so he dumped the chest over the side of the boat, while radioing Kammler that he had failed. The E-boat was sunk four miles off the coat of the Romanian city of Constanta, in about fifty feet of water.”

  “Maya, I’m sure the boat would have been found and looted already,” Banyon suddenly felt they were going on a wild goose chase.

  “That’s true Colt, but the chest was dropped several miles before the communists sunk the boat, I have the exact coordinates. Kammler wrote them in the ledger. He thought that someday he could go back and pick up the loot. But of course, Petra made sure he didn’t have a chance to collect it.”

  “You have the exact coordinates?” Banyon asked with growing excitement.

  “Not only that, but the box is two foot square and has metal hinges. They will be easy to spot with the modern equipment on
the boat.”

  “What was the chest made of?” Banyon inquired.

  “Wood.”

  “Well, bad luck there,” he replied. “After seventy years, the wood and probably the metal have completely disintegrated. The stones have probably washed away.”

  “What do you know about the Black Sea?” Maya suddenly asked him sarcastically. There was scorn in her voice. “I am not an idiot.”

  Taken a little bit back, Banyon decided to impress her. “Well, I know at one time it once was a much smaller fresh water lake with no inlet to the Mediterranean Sea. This was thousands of years ago, of course. It was originally formed from runoff from the great glaciers. But the seas rose, at the end of the last ice age, around 5,000 B.C. Many scientists today believe sea-water flowed up an old riverbed from the Mediterranean Sea and began empting into the Black Sea, making it a large inland sea. The scientists believe that it took maybe a hundred years to fill. It is a mile and a half deep in the middle.” Banyon proudly stated from memory.

  “That’s right, but did you know that much of the Black Sea is dead?” Maya asked.

  “I don’t understand what that means?” Banyon said with a perplexed look. “There is a huge fishing industry in the Black Sea.”

  “Let me explain,” Maya, the archeologist, said. “The Black Sea is formed like a big bowl.” She used her arms to demonstrate. “Below the surface currents the water is basically stagnant because there is no outlet for the currents to mix the water. As a result, oxygen can’t be replenished. Without oxygen, nothing lives in the water. They are considered dead zones, or anoxic zones.”

  “No algae?” Banyon asked.

  “Nothing lives in the zones,” Maya said while shaking her head. “And as a result of that, anything which falls into these zones does not deteriorate. Colt, they are finding pieces of wood thousands of years old in these areas. Much of the Black Sea hasn’t even been explored. Until the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1989, scientists were not even allowed in many areas of the Black Sea. It’s only recently that exploration has begun. So far they have found several entire villages still standing and many boats.”