Though he went by the name Alain, Petrov assumed that was an alias. Not that it mattered. All he cared about was that the Frenchman could be called at any hour of the day and would produce quick, reliable results. In the case of getting information on Sean Wyatt, Alain delivered again.
The phone rang less than an hour later, just as Petrov’s eyes were getting heavy.
“Yes?” he answered the phone expectantly.
“What is it you want with this man, Sean Wyatt?”
The question came as a surprise to the Russian, as did the name. It wasn’t like Alain to ask something like that. Typically, he just did as told, happy enough to get paid handsomely for his services. “You let me worry about that. What do you have on him?”
Alain drew in a deep breath. “He’s dangerous. Worked for an American agency for several years.”
“CIA? FBI?”
“Non,” Alain replied in French. “It was something else. The reports I have on him say he is rumored to have worked for Axis.”
“Axis?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
Petrov went silent for a moment, digging deep into the recesses of his memory. “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much. Mostly just rumors. From what I understand, no one really knows who works for them and who doesn’t.”
Alain went on. “The small amount of information I was able to find on him suggests that he did work for Axis. If that is the case, he is someone you must handle with extreme caution.”
The Russian let out a short snicker. He wasn’t one to be frightened of anyone, in spite of the fact that Wyatt had got the drop on him earlier. “He’s just a man.”
“Perhaps.” Alain didn’t sound convinced. “After he left the United States government, he went to work for the International Archaeological Agency in Atlanta. There are several documented instances where he used extreme measures to escape difficult situations.”
Petrov knew what that meant. Extreme measures was a tempered way of saying Wyatt had used lethal force. “So he is accustomed to killing. That’s good. So am I.” He’d heard enough about Wyatt. “What about his associates?”
“He has a lot of them. Where do you want me to start?”
“With the closest to him.”
The sound of papers shuffling rippled through the earpiece. Alain let out a long sigh and then spoke up. “Thomas Schultz is his longest known associate. He runs the IAA, where Wyatt worked until recently. It seems he has retired from international activities.”
The Russian had doubts about that, especially given the current situation.
Alain continued. “Schultz founded the IAA when his parents died in a mysterious plane crash. There are some peripheral characters he’s been known to interact with. A Joe and Helen McElroy, both of whom work for IAA now. After that, there’s a list of people but no one special.”
A question remained in Petrov’s mind. “What about a woman?”
The papers shuffled again through the earpiece. “I don’t have anything about a woman. Is there a woman with him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you get a picture of her? I could dig around.”
“No. But if that need arises, I will let you know.” Petrov thought for a minute. The fact that there was nothing on the woman in Wyatt’s house didn’t set off alarm bells in his head, but it didn’t make him at ease either. Usually, when someone was an unknown, it was because they kept off the radar on purpose.
“Will there be anything else?” the Frenchman yawned as he asked the question.
“Not right now. I’ll be in touch.”
He ended the call without thanking Alain for his diligence. Petrov didn’t have to thank him. His money did that.
Chapter 11
“How much do you know about the Battle of Copenhagen?” Tommy asked through the speaker.
Sean looked around the room to see if someone else would answer before he spoke up. No one said anything, each passing questioning glances at one another. “Which one?” he asked finally.
A short laugh popped through the phone. “Very good,” Tommy responded. “I’m impressed. The second battle, to be more specific. The first bombardment of Copenhagen in 1801 was an attempt to secure the shipping lanes to the Baltic, which Great Britain needed to maintain trade with that region. There were fears among the British leaders that if the Danes aligned themselves with the French, new defensive positions could be set up, thus blocking the trade routes.”
“That was around the time of the French Revolution coming to a close, correct?” Adriana chimed in.
“Correct. The crown prince of Denmark was trying to keep the French at bay to the south. Napoleon had not fully taken command of the French forces yet, but that was only a short time away. France knew how important Denmark was. They’d been trying to bully the Danish leadership into an alliance for some time, as had the British. All King George needed was an excuse to attack the Danes and force submission to terms. When a rumor floated back to England about a potential alliance between Denmark and France, that was all he needed.”
“Funny how those rumors pop up just when people in positions of power need them,” Sean quipped.
“Indeed,” Tommy agreed. “Anyway, to shut off the alliance with France, King George sent a large contingent of his navy to bombard Copenhagen. Initially, they were met by some resistance from the Danish fleet in the straits near Helsingor, before going on to rout the Danes at Copenhagen. After the defeat and loss of many ships, the Danish government conceded.”
“I don’t mean to be rude,” Charlie piped up. He’d been quiet for too long, and Sean knew it. “But what does this have to do with Coop’s stone and the diary?”
“Diary?” Tommy asked.
“We’ll get to that,” Sean explained briefly. “Go on.”
“Right. Well, as it turns out, a man named Jonathan Stuart was onboard one of the British vessels that came under attack near Helsingor. He ended up marooned on shore with some of his crew. The accounts say that while they were running for their lives, they stumbled into an ancient Viking tomb. Safe from the Danish patrols, the men hid there in the crypt until dawn. The men were able to hail a British frigate that was returning from Copenhagen, and they were taken safely back to England.
“Once there, Stuart relayed his tale to Francis Jackson, who had a keen interest in things of a historical nature and was one of the king’s principal advisers. Jackson was fascinated by the discovery, and after a few years of research had determined that Stuart and his men had stumbled onto a burial site of someone significant. Jackson read the stories of Holger Danske and believed that Stuart had unwittingly found the great warrior’s grave. According to the legends Jackson read, whoever possessed the sword of Holger Danske would never be defeated in battle.”
Another still silence pervaded the room for a minute. Before Tommy’s voice cut it, “You said you have a diary?”
“Yeah,” Sean answered. “We think it belonged to Jackson. We’re going to bring it by and let you take a look at it. There are some strange symbols in it, and a riddle. I know how much you like those.”
He was right. Tommy loved trying to figure out ancient mysteries. It was a big part of why he did what he did. It could be frustrating at times, but it was worth it to figure out something no one else was able to. “Guilty as charged. We’re all ready here, so head over when you’ve had enough coffee.”