Andras slammed both hands against the steering wheel. "Damn it! What a fucking amateur move that was!" Tibor looked undisturbed by this problem. "So he made us, so what?" Andras looked at him with scorn. "So what? So what? So he knows he’s being watched and now he stops and we never get him. That’s so what!" Tibor says, "He stops that’s what we want right. No more killings." Andras shook his head, "You stupid fool, he keeps killing he eventually makes a mistake or we happen to have him under observation during an attack and we have him." About that time Andras’ cell phone rang.

"OK we are in Eger, we’ll be right there, give me directions." Tibor looked at him, "Who..what?" Andras started the car and spun the tires leaving the curb, no small feat in a Lada, the Russian built cars are rugged but have little power. "It seems our American friend has put another notch in his belt."

Unfortunately for the agents the murder scene of Pal Lesfalvy turned up no clues. The professional style killing and the fact that Lesfalvy was a former Communist informer made this incident appear to be related to the other killings. That was all they had.

Ben drove into the small village of Dobos in Southeastern Hungary. Standing in the front yard of a modest home that was serving as a temporary showroom for antiques, was an entire family. Everyone from grandmother to grandchild was there, some because they had a monetary interest in the antiques that would be offered to Ben and some just because this was an event. Ben climbed down from the van and began exchanging pleasantries and handshakes. Business would be conducted in the same way it’s been done in some European areas for centuries. First you go into their home, sit down and have a meal and a drink. To not accept this would be an insult. Then after a meal and a little polite conversation you conduct business.

When all is done and the monies change hands you then retire with all of the men folk (And none of the females) to a local bar/restaurant for drinks and a large meal. Kalman, the "godfather" of the village, the same person he just bargained with to make his purchases would pick up the tab for this feast.

Ben decided that he would ask the Kalman about the two men in the white Lada. He asked through his interpreter Janos. Could it be something to do with antiquity law? He ships occasional religious items like everyone else does. They are supposed to be cleared by a museum curator, which they are, but Ben was well aware that the curator he paid to clear his shipments never actually saw them.

"Yes he knows these men" Janos repeated from Kalman said, "these are the agents of the NBH. They have no interest in things as mundane as antiques. They are concerned with national security issues and international crime. You are maybe a spy?" Ben laughed, "No, just an old antique dealer that happens to like his martinis stirred, not shaken." Janos said Kalman would make some inquiries, Ben and Janos thanked Kalman and his friends for the dinner and jumped back in the van for the one-hour drive back to Debrecen.

Working in the warehouse where he stored his merchandise and prepared it for shipping Ben heard his cell phone ring. "Igan? Ah Kalmanbacchi! Jo reggelt." It was the Godfather of the Dobos village. Ben handed the phone to Janos, his translator. Janos listened to Kalman and then thanked him and shut off the phone. Ben looked at him, "Well?" Janos explained to Ben that Kalman’s contacts told him the men who are following him were on a special assignment to do with the murders of several notorious communist ex-party members.

Janos looked at Ben for a reaction. Ben just shrugged and said, "Huh, I wonder what they think I have to do with that? They must have me confused with someone else." And he went back to work. Janos though this was a strange reaction, although you could never tell with Americans, they sometimes acted in strange ways.

"There are around thirty ex-communist informers and possible criminals still alive and living in Eastern Europe. From those we have narrowed it down to the five most notorious. We will have an around the clock surveillance on those five and hope our killer strikes one of them next." The head of NBH’s terrorist division pointed to the five enlarged photos on the wall. "Andras and Tibor you will take our most likely subject, Nagy Lazlo the wealthy industrialist who was instrumental in arranging the arrest, torture and eventual imprisonment of Cardinal Mindszenty in 1948. He is surrounded by his own security and has refused protection from us. You will have to be discreet." He then assigned the other four groups to their potential targets.

The black clad figure slipped over the three-meter stone wall carefully avoiding the surveillance cameras mounted every hundred meters. The imposing Victorian hundred-room mansion was well lit. The intruder spent hours crawling carefully around the perimeter looking for a weak spot. The satellite photos e-mailed last week were of no help. The place appeared impregnable. This evening’s recon showed the same results. Care had been taken to keep all trees, shrubbery and any potential hiding place for intruders away from the main building. There would be a well lit two hundred-meter open space to get to the main house and there was an armed guard on every corner. Mr. Nagy liked his privacy.

The intruder thought, OK, we’ll just have to have you come to me.. Since the target always traveled in an armored limo with two escort vehicles it wasn’t going to be easy.

Assassination is easy. Getting away with it is the hard part. The assassin would call it a night and go formulate a plan.

"Are you feeling brave?" Ben turned to Eve, she had a mischievous look on her face. "Brave enough to do what?" Eve pointed to the resort sign along the road. It was in Hungarian and Ben could not make it out. "Brave enough to go in there?" She smiled as she pointed at the entrance to the resort on the shores of Lake Balaton. "I usually am not afraid of resorts. Am I missing something here?" He asked her. She pointed a finger. "See the letters down at the bottom of the sign?" He nodded. "FKK? Is that the Hungarian version of the klan?" She shook her head, her silky bobbed hair swinging back and forth. "No it stands for Freikorperkultur, German for free body culture, or as you Americans call it, nudist camp." He quickly swung the car into the entrance. "Us Americans? What the hell are you?" She looked at him with surprise in her eyes. "You’re going in?" He nodded his head, "Don’t make the challenge if you can’t handle the freight." She started unbuttoning her blouse. "No problem big guy. Let’s get naked!"

That night at the hotel Ben was moaning while Eve gently applied lotion to his burned posterior. "Easy! The skins coming off! What are you putting on there? Gravel?" Eve smiled an evil smile, "What’s the matter big guy? I thought sun block was for women and sissies." He rolled over and pointed. "Speaking of the big guy, he needs lotion.: She looked down and shook her head. "Poor little thing." Ben threw a pillow at her. "Hey! Watch that talk. Just make it all better." She did and he laid back with a smile.

Morning found them off in different directions. Eve said she had to call on a local swimsuit fabricator and Ben was off to a warehouse full of antiques. They were going to meet back in Budapest at the Airport Ibis Hotel. It was time to go home.

The armored car stayed in the shadows of the foot of the bridge. The assassin knew that the caravan of Nagy and his escorts would be by soon. Parliament of which Nagy was a member met on the West Bank or the Buda side of the Danube Nagy’s penthouse was on the east bank, or the Pest side of the city. They would cross the bridge sooner or later.

This was a risky venture. It’s not easy to steal an armored truck. And there is no disguising them. The assassin just hoped that the missing truck would not be noticed until morning. There! The caravan was just entering the bridge. The armored truck started up the bridge in the opposite direction.

At around the middle of the bridge the two met. The assassin cramped the wheel hard and rammed through the center divider and into the drivers side of the limo. The assassin shifted to low gear and held the throttle to the floor pushing the limo sideways and over the bridge railing. It plummeted 200 feet down to the water below. The two escort vehicles had emptied out and four men were directing automatic fire at the armored truck. The driver backed up and drove off the bridge on the Buda side. The bullet-scarred truck would be found abandoned on a side street near the antique district.

Agents Gabor and Levi were shadowing Nagy and had witnessed the entire operation. They were helpless other than to call in a rescue for the sunken limo. There was no way to get through the horrendous traffic jam and follow the armored truck. They waited down at the wharf for news of the water rescue. All persons inside the limo, the driver, Nagy and his secretary were dead.

Ben was late getting to the hotel. He ran up to the room, threw his bags on the bed and headed downstairs to the restaurant to meet Eve. She was sitting at a table sipping white wine and looking lovely.

"You are late Mr. Massey." He gulped the wine the waiter had poured as he sat down. "Bridge accident. Sat there for half an hour and finally managed to back off the bridge and drive down the next one and get over the river." He raised his glass to her. "And how was your day?" She sipped her wine and sat the glass down taking the menu from the waiter. "Routine. Did you get your container loaded?" He nodded. "Yeah it should be to customs by now." They ordered dinner and had an enjoyable last night in Budapest together.

"I say we pick him up and interrogate him until he cracks." Andras’ supervisor looked up from the report and took off his reading glasses. "He will have the embassy on us in five minutes. This isn’t the old days my friend. We can’t use the rubber hoses and electrodes any more." Andras nodded. "Yes it is a pity."

Ben sipped his Jack Daniels and watched the door. His face broke into a smile when she breezed through the door. He gave a little wave to catch her eye and she smiled back and headed for his table. "How was the drive?" Ben asked as he rose to kiss her cheek. "Two hours just like you said. Then another half hour finding this place and finding a place to park." "Yeah," Ben sighed, "My little desert town has grown up. What would you like to drink?" Ben was signaling the waiter. "Mm, Chardonnay please."

After the waiter left she asked Ben, "What’s going on? You sounded so mysterious on the phone." Ben looked around, no one seemed to be paying attention to them. He had picked this table in the corner for its privacy. "I’m, uh, I’m thinking of quitting." She nodded her thanks to the waiter as he sat her wine down and she picked the glass up and took a sip. Her eyes rolled as the swirled the wine around in her mouth for a second and then swallowed. "Mm, good!" She announced. "Why are you telling me this? I mean I think it’s great if you can afford to retire, go for it. You don’t think you’ll miss it?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Some aspects, yes. But there is more to it than it seems, and sometimes I think I’m getting too old and too slow."

She took another sip and tilted her head to one side as she asked, "Too slow? To slow to do what? You walk so fast I can hardly keep up with you. And you’re not old. I wouldn’t be attracted to you if you were old." He smiled. "Oh, are you attracted to me?" She nodded and smiled slyly. "You might even get lucky tonight if you buy me a nice dinner.’ Ben put his hand in the air and said, "Waiter!"

Ben lived in Rancho Mirage on the Thunderbird Golf Course. The next week they spent between the bedroom and the swimming pool and the golf course.

It was after a round of golf one day when they were sitting out on the patio of the club house having a drink that a gray haired man in loud golf clothes approached their table. "Colonel Mathews! I thought that was you." Ben looked at Eve and she looked at him then the gentleman. He stuck out his hand. "John Graves. President Ford’s detail, remember?" She shook his hand. "John, how are you?" He slapped his flat stomach and said." Getting old but trying to stay in shape. You look great. Where are you stationed now?" She shook her head. "I quit years ago. You retired?" He nodded. Yea, after President Ford passed away I was sixty-three so I opted out. Didn’t want to get reassigned somewhere and leave this place. Barb and I love it." He kind of shuffled his feet and looked down. "I heard about your father and Gary. Sorry. They were two of the best."

She sighed, "It was right after they died that I got out." She introduced Ben and John said he better get back to his group and said his good-byes.

Ben looked at Eve. She was looking down at her drink seemingly lost in thought. "Colonel Mathews?" He said. She took a deep breath. "I grew up a military brat. My father was in the service all his life. I signed up right out of college and eventually I married one of my Dad’s co-workers and hence the name Mathews. After Gary, that was Mr. Mathews, died I took back my maiden name."

Ben looked at her squinting from the bright sun. ‘Your dad and your husband died at the same time?" She nodded. "Yeah. Plane crash. My husband was my Dad’s co-pilot." Ben looked at her as if he were trying to figure something out. "You rose to the rank of Colonel and then just quit?" She nodded yes. "And what did our friend over there mean by President Ford’s detail. Was he secret service?" She compressed her lips and shrugged. "Remember our deal? No talking about the past? It was your idea. And I think a good one. Let’s go back to the condo and have lunch." He jumped up, stood at attention and saluted, "Yes Sir!" She smiled. "Knock that shit off!"

At the end of the week they both had to head back overseas. Neither one mentioned the incident at the golf club again. 

TO BE CONTINUED…