Athens, Greece, Internet Caf
Nick DAbruzzo was stirring the thick black coffee he was drinking with the small wooden stirrer the waitress had given him. He had checked his email, but there were just ads and old emails he hadnt deleted. Seemed like these days he only ever heard from one or two people and they usually just sent him those bullshit jokes everyone sends out. It didnt matter; these days he really preferred to be alone anyway. He re-read an old email from his father that he hadnt replied to. His father, despite their strained relationship, had always tried to keep him up-to-date on family matters, especially his glorious younger twin brother. Sometimes he felt like his dad was just rubbing it in, but, deep down, he knew he meant well. But did he have to constantly hear things like, Francis got some damn award, or Francis got another fucking degree! Francis is a god and you are a big disappointment! Even though they were identical twins, he sometimes felt like they had a completely different set of genes. He had always played catch-up with his younger brother. Even though he was the older twin, he was shorter and wasnt as athletic as Francis. He had always tested high in intelligence tests, but when it came to translating that intelligence into high marks and scholastic accomplishment, he continually came up short.
By their college years he had decided he needed to get as far away from Francis as he could. While Francis stayed close to home and attended the University of Virginia, Nick went out west to the University of Idaho. He had started out as pre-med, thinking that if he got into medical school, he could finally get some respect from his father, and maybe he would get the first line of the annual Christmas letter his father sent out. But, again, his efforts fell shorthe tanked on the MCATS and his chemistry grades were abysmal. He ended up having to stay an extra year and finished a degree in Animal Science instead. Thinking back, though, that year was probably one of the happiest years he had ever had; he met some great people and had a blast, but his happiness was short lived. For the next ten years he jumped from one miserable job to another while Francis continued outclassing him. He looked at the email again and closed it, not deleting it because he knew he would have to come back to it again. Hell there was nobody else around to beat the Francis is God bullshit into his head but himself.
He took a sip of coffee, lit a cigarette and typed www.jewishdefensecouncil.com into the URL locator of the browser. Damn slow connection, he muttered as the page loaded. He hadnt checked the site in days, but expected there would be some new instructions for him. A smile came to his face as the pages finally came up. If some random person were to read and believe the lines of text on the site, he would think it was a group of well-to-do Jewish businessmen who provided financial assistance to Jews who had suffered alleged hate crimes. He laughed and the young girl at the computer next to him looked over. He glared at her and she turned away. Nick thought this was one of the best things hed ever done. Not even Francis could have conceived of such a brilliant scheme.
The Jewish Defense Council was a front he had created; a portal whose main purpose was as a communication platform between Nick, Olsen and other members of the Aryan Front. Olsen was very pleased with the idea and gave him, as a reward, a number of guns, including a German Luger. What pleased Olsen even more was that some unsuspecting fools had even sent them money and made donations through the website. Not bad, using the Jews own money to destroy them. It wasnt much, but it did help pay for the upkeep of the site. Hell, if needed, they could max out the credit cards of the donors, but they didnt want to attract too much attention to the site and detract from its main purpose as a communication portal.
Nick selected the link that had the requisite photos of the Holocaust and some survivors. He looked at the twenty or so JPEG images and scanned to see if there was a recent posting. Yes, there was a picture of someone with the caption Saul Stanski, Holocaust survivor. He selected the image and hit a combination of key strokes, launching a prompt box for a password. He typed his password and a text window was opened. The message was brief, but very detailed, describing the location, the man he was supposed to meet and the phrase he was to use when he met him. He closed the site, cleared the computer cache and history and logged off. He left some money for the coffee.
As he stood and put on his coat, he didnt noticed the young woman following him with her eyes. As he left the caf, the girl picked up her cell phone and made a call. Nick was dressed in casual clothes, posing as a vagabond hippie traveling through Europe. As he stepped out onto the sidewalk outside the caf, he hailed a cab. Throwing his large backpack into the back he said to the taxi driver, Eleftherios Venizelos. The airport was northeast of the city and not too far away, only thirty minutes or so when traffic was good. The taxi driver nodded and pulled out into Leoforos Amalias Street.
As the taxi made the right turn onto El Venizelou, a small white car with two passengers cut in front from the left lane. This was not an abnormal experience for the taxi driver and he successfully avoided the car, which had come to an almost complete stop. Nick looked over at the car as his taxi driver braked and skillfully maneuvered his vehicle to the left and sped past. The men in the car, which seemed to be stalled, were shouting at each other and pointing at the taxi Nick was riding in. Feeling shaken, but anxious to get out of Athens, Nick took it in stride. He had experienced similar bad taxi trips in his travels around the world and this one had not been that bad so far.
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