Hammer: Retribution

Epilog

Prelude to Justice

Wooden Shoes

Mr. Kreslow, the latest identity of Mickey McGrath, had worked his way to the rear of the plane. His trip back lasted over fifteen minutes as he stopped to talk to anyone who looked ready to chat. He didn’t want to cause any distraction as he meandered to the rear rest rooms. In a small cloth bag, he had all he needed to make his way to the luggage compartment of the plane. He was proud of his ability to give the impression of caring to the people he touched.

The plane was slowing as it descended, heading for Amsterdam Airport Schiphol. The sky had a gray cover in the early hours of the day. As the airliner bumped along the changing air pressure bounced the giant plane around as if it were a ball of yarn. Mickey knew he needed to fit his departure into a very small-time frame. His ego was working at top speed. He had the keys needed to quickly get out of sight. Once alone he had between ten and fifteen minutes to make his way to his destination. There he would ready himself for the luggage crew’s arrival. More then enough time, a confident Mickey McGrath told himself.

McGrath sat four rows behind Allenby and toward the window on the right side of the plane. Before McGrath left his seat, he stuffed some pillows under a blanket and a hat to cover a non-existent face. Not to fool everybody but a don’t bother me I’m resting, should Allenby look back. The flight attendant would probably notice he was not there when she came by to make sure his seat belt was secure. Too late, he thought, I will be long gone.

The flight attendant did notice he was gone but remembered seeing him talking to passengers as he headed to the rear of the plane. Probably, she thought, he may have stayed in the back of the plane. She would check when the plane landed. Too late!

Patrick Allenby Quinn, the portly man with the reddish blond handle bar mustache from the International Diamond Consortium was thinking about Mr. Kreslow, the retired assistant to the Prime Minister. He didn’t know him well but had seen him many times. Kreslow didn’t look as old as he had the last time they said hello in passing. Oh well, he thought, maybe retirement had been good to him.

As she checked seat belts, the flight attendant tapped Allenby on the shoulder. He jumped slightly as he had been deep in thought.

Excuse me, she said. I didn’t mean to startle you.

Quite all right. he answered. I wonder if you could give Mr. Kreslow a message for me?

I’m sorry but Mr. Kreslow isn’t in his seat.

He’s not? Queried Allenby.

He was in the rear of the plane earlier and may have stayed there. We had a few empty seats on this trip and he seemed to be enjoying himself as he chatted with the passengers, she answered. I’ll be checking on him when we land.

Thank you, said a wondering Allenby.

Some thoughts ran through Allenby’s mind but there was not much he could do when everyone had to secure their seatbelts. The diamond is safe he said to himself. All these years to finally have the Star of LaMar in his hands gave him a feeling of utopia. He had flown to Atlantic City with his two assistants, body guards as he called them, meeting with the FBI and the two men who had unknowingly been carrying the Star of LaMar in the false bottom of a wooden case for all those many years. A locker about the size of a mid-size suitcase with a false bottom originally used in the captain’s cabin of old sailing vessels. He had paid the reward to John E. Mudd and Vernon Stallings who shared time with the case. His somewhat worried look broke into a smile when he thought how the case with the diamond had been stored in an old bomb shelter in the state of New Jersey. Anyway, he had the diamond safe and sound. Soon it would be in his banks safety deposit box and ready to be returned to its original owners. He was hopeful they might not want it back and his people could purchase it from them. Keeping the diamond would be a coup for him and all concerned. He leaned back feeling rather pleased.

Mickey McGrath wasn’t concerned about the Star of LaMar, only escape to freedom. He wished he had an option to get his hands on the diamond but knew there was no way without putting himself in harms way. His one hundred twenty-million-dollar dream would go up in smoke. M&M (Mudd and Mother), he thought, I’ll get even with them. No one gets the best of Mickey McGrath and lives very long. There would be other sweeter and safer deals to keep the illicit money flowing. Freedom and moving on with his life came first. He had plans, big plans. Retribution was high on his list.

Mickey had changed and was ready to make his way to the underbelly of the plane. He peeked out from the restroom and noticed a flight attendant through a small crack in the drawn curtains. She was walking down the center aisle about to enter the back area when was summoned by one of the passengers toward the front of the plane. He took a deep breath and while the curtains were pulled shut he took his chance. It was now or never. At the same moment the pilot’s voice came over the speakers momentarily startling Mickey, as he told everyone they should be on the ground in about eighteen minutes. Perfect he thought.

Allenby was belted and waited for the plane to land. He had decided to look up Kreslow as soon as possible, wanting to get a closer look at his face just to be sure. He got the attention of his two bodyguards, one of which was carrying the Star of LaMar. He had the attendant give them a note. Their exit was prearranged. An armored vehicle would be there to take them and the diamond to the bank. Allenby would not be far behind. He had a limo waiting for him. The note asked one of them to tell the limo driver he would arrive a couple of minutes late. They acknowledged him with a short wave of their hands. He nodded.

As Mickey turned his key the hatch cover opened. He lowered himself into the luggage compartment. As he closed the hatch behind him, he felt the wheels touch the ground. The bump caused him to lose his balance. Quickly, he regained his composure and concentrated with a new directive, get your escape in order. An unmistakable odor emanated from the mixture of suitcases, boxes and other various items. He set himself up for the luggage crew’s arrival.

The plane landed on the runway and rolled to a stop. It made a right turn and headed toward the main building. It seemed slow to Mickey but he endured the wait in silence.

As quickly as he could Allenby headed to find Kreslow. The attendant was of little help. She thought he would be one of the last exiting passengers as he was in the far rear of the plane when she last had contact with him. Allenby was getting a bit jumpy and decided to exit the plane, get to the front of the building and catch Kreslow on his way out. Little did Allenby know he would not get to see the face of the man he thought to be Kreslow.

Mickey felt Allenby could put a damper on his escape if he was smart enough to realize he was a much younger looking man then the real Kreslow. All things considered the Mick, at least for the moment, had control of the situation.

Allenby had quickly made his way to the front lobby. He found a uniformed attendant waiting by the front doors. He asked if he could help find his fellow passenger, Mr. Kreslow.

You mean Mr. Kreslow the assistant to the prime minister? Asked one of them.

Yes, Allenby told him.

He was in an automobile accident the day before yesterday and was killed, the attendant told him.

Are you sure, Allenby asked again and again.

Yes sir, I’m sure. Were you going to meet him here?

Well, yes… no, no, he was on the plane with me, or I should say someone claiming to be him was on the plane. Oh, I am dreadfully sorry, I’m confused at the moment. Perhaps you should start a search for the person I was speaking to on the plane. There is something amiss. For sure something is amiss.

He looked for the armored truck. As he looked out the door it was pulling away. He quickly called and found all was well. The diamond was on the truck and heading to the bank.

His limo driver came by when he spotted Allenby looking out the door. Sir, your limo is ready.

There will be a slight delay, I have to speak to security. Allenby stated.

My, oh my, oh my, will justice be done was all he could muster up as he briskly headed to the security office.

One

The Great Escape!

Mickey McGrath waited in the luggage compartment. He had dressed in the same blue coveralls the luggage crew wore. As he crouched behind the large boxes he waited for his time to shine.

It wasn’t long before one of the crew came to the area. Mickey was like a cheetah as he pounced on the surprised worker and knocked him to the floor. Mickey popped him a quick haymaker and the guy was out like a shattered light bulb. Now he would assimilate himself into the crew. He grabbed the identity card from where it was pinned to the workers chest. Before he placed it on his uniform he changed the picture card that would make him a part of the crew. Keeping his card facing forward but placing the card of the man he had subdued on the backside so he could have the bar code read when passing the checkpoints.

Mickey opened the door and could see the crew with the multi car tram as it approached. He waved them forward. They quickly set up the belt ramp. One of the men climbed up the ramp and started to throw suitcases on the belt as it moved the luggage down to the tram where two other workers hurriedly stacked them in an orderly fashion.

McGrath quickly assimilated himself with the man who was moving suitcases and boxes on to the belt ramp. He started to help. The other man looked at him but didn’t ask any questions. All he cared about was the help he was getting. Mickey suddenly groaned and grabbed for his side as he doubled over. When the helper came over Mickey laid him out with a devastating right. Mickey read his name from his ID card and quickly hollered for help.

We need some help up here; Herbert has passed out.

We’ll be right up, hollered one of the men stacking the luggage on the tram.

When the two men arrived, they searched and found two of the workers on the floor. They tried to help them but found they were out cold. At the same moment, Mickey jumped on the conveyor belt and slid down to the ground. He drove the luggage tram into the building and left it unattended. Picking up a radio left by one of the harried workers, he quickly moved through the checkpoint using the ID card he had obtained.

None too soon as Mickey heard the whine of sirens start. Mickey removed the blue coveralls and looked like a man on a mission with his dark suit white shirt and blue tie. He had planned for this should he have to get by the first layer of security. They didn’t carry weapons only radios to report improper procedure or suspicious situations. The next layer of security would be a different story as they could easily subdue him. Two men came running down the passage. They slowed as they approached. Mickey directed the two level one security guards to the planes storage compartment. He explained he was headed to the control area. One of the men eyed his ID card. It had his picture and showed him as an administrative assistant to the head of airport security.

Yes sir, he said to McGrath, as he headed to the plane.

Mickey noticed they were talking on their radios. Soon they would figure out he was their man. There was much confusion as he slowly but at a steady pace avoided all and made it out of the employee exit. The guard looked at his ID and saluted. What was that all about Mickey thought? He spotted what he was looking for. A large man in sweats, whom he recognized as Franz Dykeman, his somewhat trusted cohort urgently waving for him to follow. He did.

Hi ya Mickey, Franz said in his usual gruff voice. Ya doing alright?

I’m good; everything set?

Yes sir, the small charge will go off when I push this button.

Great, I’ll tell you when to push.

Standing by.

The two men walked forward until they came to an alley between two warehouse buildings. The space was about six feet wide and stretched the whole distance of the metal covered buildings. Mickey ducked into the open space and asked Franz for the bag he was carrying. There was a change of clothes and a small 9mm pistol. Within two minutes Mickey was ready to go. He also would be wearing sweats as the two men started to jog. It was a perfect day to jog, cool and overcast perfect for a leisurely run. They knew where they were going. No one paid any mind to two joggers getting their daily exercise.

Now, Franz, push the button. Mickey exhorted him.

A small explosion could be heard coming from an area almost a mile from them on the eastern side of the airport. Franz had left a small paper bag with explosives and a radio receiver above the door of a building under repair. There was no one there on this Sunday morning but the explosion drew many of the security people away from the search for Kreslow.

Keep jogging, Mickey said. We’re almost in the safe zone.

The two men jogged until they reached a coffee shop where they found a small out of the way table.

The server came out and asked, coffee?

Two please, Mickey answered. Make them both mocha latte’s.

Will there be anything else?

Mickey realized he was in Holland where the pastries are as good as they get. Add two of the freshest baked scones.

Of course. The waiter answered.

When he returned with their order he asked what was going on by the airport? Mickey answered him with a question.

Don’t you know?

There seems to be confusion all around the area, the waiter explained.

We were busy jogging. We did hear a loud noise in the distance but it seemed natural around a noisy airport. Franz told the waiter.

They ate their freshly baked scones and finished most of the latte, left a nice tip and moved on.

Franz, Mickey said. Good job as usual, there will be some extra coin for you.

Will I be needed on the trip?

I’d like you to come on the ship with me should there be any snags.

I packed a bag last night should I be needed.

You’re the man.

Mickey headed to his apartment in Amsterdam and Franz to see his wife, give her some money and say goodbye to her for a few weeks. They would meet on the docks ten days hence for the trip to Finland.

McGrath felt all was going well but he had a slight pain in his lower intestine. It was usually a sign he had forgotten something. As Mickey walked to his apartment he heard talk amongst the people he passed about the explosion. Seems the building was not completely empty after all. The storage facility was still holding a shipment of wooden crates. Everyone was guessing what was in the crates but no one seemed to know exactly what they held. McGrath wondered what was in them as well and if they were destroyed from the fire the explosion had caused. He would check the story on the local newscast when he arrived at his dwelling.

McGrath needed to get a few cell phones. He would ask Elsa Flamberg, his landlady, to get them for him in the morning. As he walked he went through his well laid plans but as hard as he tried could not detect any flaws. Mickey continued to think as he briskly walked but nothing in his plans alerted him to what was about to happen.

Franz was having trouble at home. His wife wants him to stay and give some quality time to his kids. They were getting to be an unruly group, which made Franz want to stay away even more. He promised his wife he would spend as much time as he needed when he returned in three weeks. It was a solemn promise but one he would not be able to keep.

Two

Confusion

Allenby was in the office of airport security. He tried to explain his dilemma but was having difficulty getting the story out in a sensible manner. Finally, he was told by Petter, the man seemingly in charge.

Take a deep breath, blow out all the bad air of confusion and start your story again. This time slowly and think before you speak, a frustrated Petter told him.

Oh my, I’m a real rattle brain aren’t I, please accept my apology.

Allenby started the story again this time in a sensible fashion. The man quickly picked up the phone calling the head of security.

Come quickly, the gentleman you left me with in the office has important information about the man you’re looking for. Petter said.

As he hung up the phone he told Allenby the security chief would be back shortly.

I’m only a worker in the cleanup crew. They left me to find out what information you were searching for.

The cleanup crew, a laughing Allenby said.

The door swung open and in came the head of security. Wilhelm Krogmeyer was a stocky man in need of oxygen. He had been running around trying to put two and two together without success.

Tell me what you know, quickly, he told Allenby.

The cleanup man interrupted. Not quickly, he needs to talk slowly.

Okay talk anyway you want but talk, said Wilhelm.

Allenby related what he knew.

We need to call Interpol. Wilhelm said to Petter as he looked at Allenby and asked. You say you hadn’t heard about the automobile accident and the death of Kreslow?

Correct, answered a slightly frustrated Allenby. Had I known I would have let someone know immediately.

Of course, of course, my apology, Wilhelm said.

Wilhelm started a series of phone calls when Allenby interrupted him. Can I leave now? I have important business to handle and…

Wilhelm interrupted him right back. Please leave a number where we can contact you.

Allenby left the airport and headed to the bank. The smooth ride of the limousine was just what he needed and the thought of looking at the Star of LaMar settled him down to the normal gracious Patrick Allenby Quinn.

There would be much confusion at the airport. No one had any idea what actually happened on the plane. There was much to sort out. Videos were called in and studied by the authorities and flight attendants. A picture of Kreslow on the plane was finally found and confirmed by the flight attendants and the boarding person at the New York airport. Facial identification was unable to tell them who the man was. For certain it was not Kreslow.

A dragnet was set up in and around Amsterdam. All the airports, train stations and the ferry to the British Isles were to be checked. A composite picture of what the man could look like was handed out to all concerned. It would be difficult to identify Mickey as he was now wearing a moustache and sideburns, his dark hair plastered down with grease giving him a new look. He would walk with a cane and limp along as he dragged his left foot.

Mickey’s plans were good but not perfect. He thought he had figured in all the possibilities. However unknown to him, Dragar Tolefsen, a Norwegian fisherman had been searching for Mickey the past two years; he was getting close. Mickey had used him and his boat but never paid him the $250,000 he was owed, a costly mistake by McGrath.

The steamship, MS Leicester Lady, which Mickey McGrath was to board, had docked as scheduled. They were unloading and loading their usual cargo, tulips from Holland, clothing from Belgium and of course contraband to bring with them on the trip to Finland. As they approached Helsinki they would meet with a speedboat about 10 miles west of their destination and transfer the contraband. The drugs were headed east through Estonia and into Russia and from there, who knew. The speedboat usually stopped in Poland first and waited a few days before continuing on to Estonia. At times, usually in the winter the contraband was shipped via truck. There was much danger using a truck. Too many Interpol agents were watching along with local law enforcement from all the countries concerned. If all went as planned there would be the usual payoff.

McGrath was resting in his apartment still planning, as was his usual custom. He felt reasonably at ease. His inner self was not feeling the same and he gave serious consideration to changing his escape plans. Too much work had gone into them so he kept to his schedule. He realized there could be a problem on the way but as usual he concluded he would be prepared to handle whatever came along. Mr. Ego was popping up again and could cost him.

He spent time planning and packing and was getting a bit antsy as the tenth day approached. His alarm would be set for 3AM. He also remembered to see the landlady, Elsa Flamberg, the night before and pay his rent for the upcoming year. She also received a nice bonus for her vigilance. Elsa had a number to call should there ever be a problem at the apartment. The number belonged to Franz. Her message would be Hello Birger, would you like to have lunch today. Which meant there was trouble brewing, don’t come around. Franz or his wife would confirm, no thank you, not today.

McGrath was ready, his plans were ready, the ship was ready but the sly and dangerous Drager Tolefsen was also ready!

Three

On the Road Again

Chateau 54 sat quietly in the midst of the tall green pines in central New Jersey. A brisk breeze was bending the tops of the trees. A fresh smell of pine emanated in the general area of the chateau. Inside M&M (Mudd and Mother) are packing for the next concert on the tour. Mudd is tired. Mother is complaining. Their friend, lawyer and agent, Mutle Blumberg is trying to calm them.

Hey fellows this is a quick stop, only three small events. After you finish this trip you’ll have two months to rest. The following month will be a rehearsal for the Japan show and the final really big show in Warsaw then it’s vacation time.

If we finish, Mudd says. It’s fun and all but it’s a young man’s work.

Right on, Muddy, Mother, concurs but says. Let’s suck it up and get to the airport.

Now you’re talking, a happy agent says.

"Never thought I’d say this but this