The Oracle Code

42



Stadiou Street

Omonoia District

Athens

Hellenic Republic (Greece)

February 20, 2013

A man stepped out from one of the trees that lined Stadiou Street at night, but Linko refrained from drawing his pistol. It was a careless, almost amateurish, move, but he’d been expecting something like that.

Then the man lifted his hands away from his body to show that he was unarmed. “Mr. Smith?”

Linko wore a red and black hoodie against the wind. He had a 9mm pistol on his hip under the long tail of the garment. The hoodie had been his identification to the man he was meeting. “I am Smith.”

“Please stop there, Mr. Smith. Otherwise you will be shot.”

Linko came to a stop and didn’t look around for the sniper. Since there were no other people on the street, there had to be a sniper. The street was lined with multi-storied buildings. “I am simply here to meet. If I had meant anything else, I would have brought an army.”

“These are perilous times.” The man was older, in his fifties, with curly gray hair and an equally curly gray beard. He looked like someone’s grandfather, not the leader of a revolutionary group. He also looked like the photograph of Nicolos Aigle Linko had received on his tablet PC.

“I understand. What do you wish me to do?”

“Take a ride with me.”

Linko didn’t like getting into the car with the man, but he knew disagreeing would only create problems and increase the amount of time he’d need to pull the operation together. He shrugged. “Of course.”

Aigle waved and a taxi rolled forward and stopped beside him. “Join me.” He opened the door and climbed into the vehicle.

Linko walked over to the taxi and slid into the back seat with Aigle. A soundproof glass partition separated the rear of the taxi from the driver.

The driver pulled forward without looking back.

Aigle studied Linko. “We’re just going to drive around in this area for a time, if that is all right?”

“We could have met somewhere.”

“I prefer to do my business in the back of a cab, not in a public place. Too many people are looking for me.”

Linko disagreed with that but didn’t say anything. The 17N were still hunted, that was true, but not very aggressively. They had taken their last kill in 2000, and even that assassination wasn’t universally believed to be the work of the 17N. There were some who thought the CIA had performed it, even though the last man killed had been a British military attaché.

“Of course. But the man I represent—”

“You mean President Nevsky?”

Linko went on as if Aigle had not interrupted. “—will make sure you and your organization will become much more respected in this country.”

Aigle drummed his fingers on the hand rest. “I am not so convinced.”

“You only need look to the Ukraine to see that what I am telling you is the truth.”

“I have been watching the news with great interest, comrade.”

“What you are seeing there is the result of months of long, hard work.” Linko launched into his sales pitch. “Your country is being abandoned by the West, comrade. They do not care for this place any more. Your government has become too problematic and too expensive to support. The writing was on the wall when President George W. Bush supported the Republic of Macedonia as an independent country, as well as a member of NATO. The government here doesn’t have a strong ally anymore. But you can have one if you wish.”

Aigle studied Linko. “We have been promised this before.”

“Look to the Ukraine. See what is being done.” Linko spoke passionately, and—truthfully—he felt some of that. He felt certain that he was part of something that was continuing to grow. “We live in a time when most citizens do not know their own leaders or even their own government policies. These people just take and take, not contributing to the country they are graciously allowed to live in. They have become too lackadaisical in their view of the world. If they are allowed to continue, unchecked and unguided and unpunished, they will empty the world, and future generations will starve or prey on themselves. They must be brought to heel, and the world needs to look to a strong leader.”

“You think the man you work for is that man?”

Linko shook his head. “He is the man for my country, comrade, but he is not the man for your country.” There, he’d set out the bait. “Who will lead your country in the future has yet to be determined. But whoever it is must be strong enough to stand up and seize the reins. Then he will join with my leader so that the West can encroach on our world no longer. This is what it will take. I have been told to tell you this.”

Aigle took in a breath and let it out.

“There is already much unrest in your country, comrade. Without guidance—and soon—there may be no chance to be yourselves. What would happen if Turkey decides to expand its borders? Who will protect you then?”

“Russia also supported the Republic of Macedonia’s recognition as a country. I have not forgotten that.”

“I am aware of this. But the president that was responsible for that is not the man who sent me here. He is looking for an ally, and he is willing to fund your operations against the corrupt government that bleeds your people dry.”

“What your president wants done will take time.”

“He understands that. But it must be done. He wants to build an ally here, and I assume you want one as well. We both want the United States gone from your country.”

Aigle was silent for a moment. “I will think about your offer. We will meet again in a few days.”

“That is fine.” Linko didn’t like being brushed off by the man, but he knew he had no choice. Still, he couldn’t let it go without firing a salvo back. “I have a list of other people to contact. Probably you should be contacting them as well.” He named them off on his fingers. “The Revolutionary Nuclei. The Sect of Revolutionaries. The Conspiracy of Fire Nuclei. The Revolutionary Struggle. All of these groups and more will be interested in what I have to say on behalf of the man I represent.” He took a breath. “So take all the time you need. Comrade.“