Sight Seeing
January, 1967
The setting
"Dan?" She asked, not at all pleased with the interruption of
the ringing phone.
"Dan." He replied, replacing the receiver and turning back to
gather her in his arms.
She snuggled against him. "When?"
"Tonight."
She moved up on her elbow as his hands moved underneath the sheet.
"Rollin?"
"We have plenty of time." He said with a smile.
She met his eyes with her own smile, and teased, "For what?"
knowing too well the answer.
He reached up to kiss her.
"You'd better let me check the service first," she said, stopping
him. "I don't want Dan thinking I'm unavailable."
He laid his head back against the pillow as she reached across him for the phone.
They still had plenty of time, he thought to himself.
That evening they met the team at Dan's apartment for the briefing. They all
knew their goal, but the plan was far from well defined.
“We’re on the
Rollin rose from his place beside Cinnamon on the leather sofa and turned to
offer his hand to her. Their eyes met as she took his hand to stand.
The left side of his mouth turned up at the corner in a smile as she turned
away from him and followed the others out. They didn’t have much time
to put their lives in order before the flight.
They would have to improvise much of the mission, Rollin thought as they all
drove together in Dan's black sedan to L. A. International for the flight to
Once they had learned what they could from their interception of Paul von Schneer at the airport, Rollin made
a quick change of clothing and grabbed a cab to make the
Rollin lagged behind a group of tourists, discreetly searching the area for
the men he was supposed to meet. He didn't have to search hard or long.
At
Still burning from his initial challenge to Graff’s leadership, Rollin found
his way to Cinnamon’s suite to let Dan know what they needed to set their plan
in motion. Rollin wasn’t at all sure just how they were going to get their
piece of the Zurich bank account number. But Dan seemed certain when telling
him they get the information for him at the party Cinnamon would throw later
that night. He left Dan and the others to work on the necessary arrangements,
but before rejoining the "Fourth Reich," however, Rollin escaped to
the bar for a drink, or two. He needed to cool off.
After yet another confrontation with Graff while Rollin dressed for the party,
Rollin silently seethed. He had been made to sit through all their talk of a
superior race, “the new
With Graff staying in his room, the man literally stood in the way of Rollin
getting the information he had to have for the bank tomorrow. He felt sure Dan
had gotten the message with the disguised phone call.
The next morning, his confidence was restored when, as he walked to the elevator,
he saw Willy dressed as a waiter. He knew his teammates wouldn't let him
down. Consequently, he wasn't surprised when the elevator door opened two floors
down and Barney stepped onto the elevator. The control panel short circuited
and Rollin quickly palmed the matchbook from Barney’s hand as he pulled him
off Graff. Now, the game was in play.
Cinnamon, Barney and Dan waited patiently as Rollin wrote out the letters and
diagram he had memorized from the projector. As he filled in the last
of the characters, it all became clear. He and Cinnamon rose from the
couch to follow Dan’s instructions to the cemetery. Cinnamon’s call to
the police had worked as a suitable diversion for the two remaining Fourth Reich
leaders.
After discovering that the Braun crypt itself was the Third Reich's treasure,
Willy and Rollin helped Dan back to the car. They needed to get him to
a doctor to tend to his gunshot wound.
At the American Embassy, the three teammates waited while their leader was examined
by the resident physician. Rollin excused himself
long enough to find a phone and call to update Cinnamon. He was happy
just to hear her voice. He told her to sit tight until they knew Dan’s
condition.
The doctor emerged shortly with good news. Dan was in no grave danger and would
be fine. Thankfully, the bullet had not penetrated very deeply and was easily
removed. Dan walked out behind the doctor. “I’m fine. Let’s
wrap this up and go home.” He said with a quick smile to his team.
Willy stood from his chair and Barney and Rollin both put out their cigarettes
to follow their boss. Willy drove them back to the hotel, where Cinnamon
greeted them in the suite. She advised that the Swiss police had gladly
collected Herr Wolff from their suite. Dan sat tiredly on the sofa.
With yet another successful mission behind them, it was time to go home.
“Let’s get packed up. I think we can make the
“Are you sure you’re okay, Dan?” Barney asked. “You’re looking a little pale.”
Dan nodded, his chest still throbbed were he’d been hit. “I’ll be fine.
I just need a little rest.”
“Maybe we should wait 'til morning?” Cinnamon offered.
“Yeah, Dan. Overnight won’t hurt.” Rollin
agreed.
Dan listened and considered the advice. “Maybe you’re right. Overnight
might be a good idea.”
Barney looked at Cinnamon, who smiled. “Well this is a first. He's actually
taking some advice. I’ll have to alert
Dan smiled and gave them a little laugh. “Just don’t tell her I got shot.”
He pleaded, calling after her.
Rollin acknowledged his friend and leader with a grin as he lit a cigarette.
“Rollin?” Willy asked.
Cinnamon having finished with the desk, returned the
receiver to its cradle as Willy spoke.
“What was that all about with you and Graff? I thought you were gonna kill the guy?”
Rollin sighed. “I don’t know Will, he just got to me.” He looked at the floor.
“He was so self-righteous, so superior, so sure he could re-build a dead movement.”
“That’s the problem Rollin," Dan interjected. "The movement
isn’t dead.”
“At least we stalled it for the moment, didn’t we?” Cinnamon chimed in.
Dan nodded, “For a moment, a very brief moment.”
The room became very quiet as each of them considered the reality of Dan's comment.
“Anybody hungry?” Barney asked, breaking the
heavy silence.
“I’m starved.” Willy offered.
Barney smiled. “Anybody else? Uncle Sam
is buying.”
Cinnamon chuckled and looked at Dan. “Do you feel up to it or can we bring
you something?”
Dan shook his head. “I should make some calls. I’ll have something sent
up. You all go and have a good meal, you deserve it.”
“I’ll get the car.” Willy offered, moving for the door. The others followed
him, leaving Dan behind.
They found a small, yet highly recommended restaurant and enjoyed the afternoon.
The sun was dipping below the horizon when they returned to the suite.
Dan had retired to his room, but left them a note: "Flight at
Barney and Willy excused themselves, as well. Barney made a comment about
finding a gift for Paula; Willy said something about finding a gym, somewhere.
With the others gone, Rollin and Cinnamon were left on their own. Lighting
a cigarette, Rollin ventured out to the balcony that overlooked the garden of
the hotel.
“Alone at last,” she said coming to stand beside him to enjoy the view.
He smiled as he wrapped his arm about her shoulders. He was still feeling the
pleasant effects of the three bottles of wine he and the others had shared with
their late lunch. He turned to her and kissed her.
“Living dangerously, aren’t you?” She asked.
“I thought we were alone.”
“Doesn’t mean that someone couldn't drop back in.”
“In that case, shall we go somewhere a little more private?” He suggested facing
her and moving his arms to rest on both of her shoulders.
“Its early.”
“It was early when Dan called the other day, too.” He said, remembering
their earlier date when Dan had summoned them for this mission.
She smiled up at him, remembering their pleasant afternoon at the beach.
“Rollin, what did happen between you and Graff?" She asked, abruptly
changing the subject.
He turned back to look out over the garden. “I just let him get to
“What did you do?”
“At the cemetery, when he ran out of bullets, he tried to get away. I
stopped him.”
“How?”
“I tried to strangle him. Willy pulled me off him-just in time.”
“Too bad you didn’t succeed.” She observed.
Rollin’s shocked look surprised her. “He’ll just try it again, won’t he?”
She said in her defense.
He considered her point. “Probably, but it certainly will be more difficult
without a 300 million dollar bank roll.”
“That’s our job.” She offered.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Now,” she said turning back to face him, “why don’t we change and you can show
me
“I can?”
“Why not, we never get a chance to sight-see do we?”
“No.”
She smiled. “Do we have a date?”
“You know I can’t refuse you anything.” He said with a grin.
She wrapped her arms about his waist. “I’ll have to remember that.”
He kissed her softly.
"I need to grab my things from the other suite. You get started.
I'll be back in a couple minutes." He kissed her again, then
hurried off to gather his belongings he had left in the suite he had shared
with Graff.
He unlocked the door and moved inside. He heard the gun safety removed as the door closed behind him.
He turned at the sound of the click and found Graff sitting in a chair, waiting for him. “I knew you’d be back.” He said with a smile.
Rollin met his eyes.
In her suite, Cinnamon lit a cigarette and poured them each a drink in anticipation of his return.
“Sit down.” Graff demanded, waiving the gun toward the bed.
Rollin moved toward the single bed to sit. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”
“No, you still have something I want-my legacy.”
Rollin shook his head. “I don’t have anything you want Graff.”
“You found the treasure.”
“We found nothing Graff, nothing but two dead bodies in that crypt.”
“You’re lying.” He said, approaching Rollin with the gun.
Cinnamon crushed out her cigarette, she was beginning to wonder what was keeping Rollin. His room was just down the hall, nothing could keep him this long.
She closed the suite door behind her and went around the corner to find him.
“Listen Graff, I’ll take you there, I’ll show you. There’s nothing.” She heard Rollin’s raised voice and listened closely.
“You will take me there von Scheer. That I assure you.” Graff threatened.
He waived Rollin toward the door.
”Open it.” Graff commanded.
Rollin opened the door and stepped out. Cinnamon pressed herself back against the wall and waited.
Graff slowly emerged from the room following Rollin with the gun. Cinnamon saw her opportunity and took it. She brought her hand down across Graff’s, knocking the gun from his hand. Rollin turned and hit Graff hard, knocking him back inside the room and out cold.
Rollin quickly picked up the gun from the floor and looked at his rescuer. “Thank you.”
“I was beginning to wonder where you had gotten off to.”
Rollin grinned. Nothing fazed Cinnamon Carter.
“What shall we do about your guest?” She asked as he closed the door.
“Call the police.”
Within the hour, the police had Graff handcuffed and in custody.
Rollin sat heavily on the sofa. “So much for sight-seeing.” He said disappointed at what their evening had turned into.
“Wasn’t meant to be.” She added as she joined him.
“You did it again, you know.” He said, slipping his arm around her.
“What?”
“Came to my rescue.”
She smiled. “Guess you need me.”
He met her smile. “In more ways than one.” He said as he kissed her.
The kiss lingered and they both knew where it could, and most likely, would lead.
She sighed as they parted. “I think this is better than sight-seeing.” She said laying her hand against his chest.
“Damn!” He exclaimed.
“What?” She asked, shocked.
“I still don’t have my bag.” He said, exasperated with himself.
She chuckled, shaking her head at him. “How could you forget?”
He spread his hands. “Too much excitement, I guess.”
She looked at him. “Shall I go with you this time, just in case?” She dared.
“For protection?” He asked.
She smiled.
He laughed and rose from the sofa. “If I’m not back in five minutes…”
“I’ll come looking.” She finished.
He leaned down and gave her parting kiss then headed for the door.
This time he was back with his case in hand and all within the designated time.
“Where do you want me?” He asked holding up his case.
She met him in the foyer of the suite. She looked up at him. “I think I have someplace in mind.”
“Oh?” He smiled.
She reached up and kissed him. “Mm huh.”
She turned and moved toward the bedroom. “Coming?” She asked looking back over her shoulder.
“Right behind you.” He said, following her.
THE END
Elena Vorska
April 2002