Windmills of the Gods by Sidney Sheldon Read Free Book Online

our plan?”
    “It could destroy it. It would open too many bridges to the West.”
    Freyr said, “Then we must prevent it from happening.”
    Balder asked, “How?”
    “We assassinate Groza,” the chairman replied.
    “That’s impossible. Ionescu’s men have made half a dozen attempts that we know of, and they’ve all failed. His villa seems to be impregnable. Anyway, no one in this room can afford to be involved in an assassination attempt.”
    “We wouldn’t be directly involved,” the chairman said.
    “Then how?”
    “The Controller discovered a confidential dossier that concerns an international terrorist who’s for hire.”
    “Abul Abbas, the man who organized the hijacking of the Achille Lauro ?”
    “No. There’s a new gun in town, gentlemen. A better one. He’s called Angel.”
    “Never heard of him,” Sigmund said.
    “Exactly. His credentials are most impressive. According to the Controller’s file, Angel was involved in the Sikh Khalistan assassination in India. He helped the Macheteros terrorists in Puerto Rico, and the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. He’s masterminded the assassinations of half a dozen army officers in Israel and the Israelis have offered a million-dollar reward for him, dead or alive.”
    “He sounds promising,” Thor said. “Can we get him?”
    “He’s expensive. If he agrees to take the contract, it will cost us two million dollars.”
    Freyr whistled, then shrugged. “That can be handled. We’ll take it from the general fund we’ve set up.”
    “How do we get to this Angel person?” Sigmund asked.
    “All his contacts are handled through his mistress, a woman named Neusa Muñez.”
    “Where do we find her?”
    “She lives in Argentina. Angel has set her up in an apartment in Buenos Aires.”
    Thor said, “What would the next step be? Who would get in touch with her for us?”
    The chairman replied, “The Controller has suggested a man named Harry Lantz.”
    “That name sounds familiar.”
    The chairman said dryly, “Yes. He’s been in the newspapers. Harry Lantz is a maverick. He was thrown out of the CIA for setting up his own drug business in Vietnam. While he was with the CIA, he did a tour in South America, so he knows the territory. He’d be a perfect go-between.” He paused. “I suggest we take a vote. All those in favor of hiring Angel, please raise your hands.”
    Eight well-manicured hands went into the air.
    “Then it’s settled.” The chairman rose. “The meeting is adjourned. Please observe the usual precautions.”
    It was a Monday, and Constable Leslie Hanson was having a picnic in the greenhouse on the castle’s grounds, where he had no right to be. He was not alone, he later had to explain to his superiors. It was warm in the greenhouse, and his companion, Annie, a buxom country lass, had prevailed upon the good constable to bring a picnic hamper.
    “You supply the food,” Annie giggled, “and I’ll supply the dessert.”
    The “dessert” was five feet six inches, with beautiful, shapely breasts and hips that a man could sink his teeth into.
    Unfortunately, in the middle of dessert Constable Hanson’s concentration was distracted by a limousine driving out of the castle gate.
    “This bloody place is supposed to be closed on Mondays,” he muttered.
    “Don’t lose your place,” Annie coaxed.
    “Not likely, pet.”
    Twenty minutes later, the constable heard a second car leaving. This time he was curious enough to get up and peer out the window. It looked like an official limousine, with darkened windows that concealed the passengers.
    “Are you comin’, then, Leslie?”
    “Right. I just can’t figure out who could be in the castle. Except for tour days, it’s closed down.”
    “Exactly what’s going to happen to me, love, if you don’t hop it.”
    Twenty minutes later, when Constable Hanson heard the third car leave, his libido lost out to his instincts as a policeman. There were five more vehicles, all limousines, all