Paradise Gold: The Mafia and Nazis battle for the biggest prize of World War II (Ben Peters Thriller series Book 2) Read Online Free

his watery pale blue eyes studied Ben’s face while the blue veins in his bulbous red nose seemed to be pulsating.
    ‘Exactly.’ Smee paused and held him in his stare. ‘I’ll make it easier for you to decide. If you help us on this, perhaps our people could trace Alena’s whereabouts.’ Smee almost looked surprised he’d made the offer. ‘The choice is yours,’ he continued. ‘Either in or out. Go now and that will be the end of it. Stay, and if you repeat anything about this it will be on the pain of death.’

4
    B en watched Pickering , who was choking on nervous laughter giving the impression this was Smee’s attempt at humour, yet when he looked back at Smee, he wasn’t so sure. And he began to feel the nervousness in the pit of his stomach he’d experienced when he and Alena were fleeing Paris.
    Smee glowered at Pickering to stop him in his tracks, before turning his attention back to Ben. ‘Your decision?’
    Although he doubted he was sufficiently recovered from the bombing to do anything active, he still wanted to play some part in the war. Perhaps they didn’t require him to be anything more than an observer. Yet that thought disappointed him. He’d always been a sucker for a secret. Curiosity killed the cat, hopefully not this one.
    ‘Well?’ The look on Smee’s face demanded an answer.
    ‘How can I answer when you haven't told me everything I need to know?’
    ‘Yes or no?’
    He realised Pickering, who was clenching his pipe between his teeth, his fingers steepled across an ample stomach, wouldn’t give him any guidance.
    ‘Okay, okay, I’m in,’ he said at last, almost biting his tongue. If there was a slim chance of seeing Alena again, he would do anything.
    ‘Good.’ Smee rose to his feet. ‘Okay Pickering, that will be all. Peters and I need to talk.’ He paused. ‘Alone.’
    Pickering gave a huff of disappointment and glanced at Ben, wondering whether he should leave them alone, before struggling to his feet and allowing himself to be ushered from the room.
    ‘The fewer who know about this, the better,’ Smee said as he took his seat.
    ‘I think you should know my leg is not completely recovered,’ Ben interrupted him, and he felt a twinge of pain in his knee.
    Smee was unfazed, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. ‘Might help this particular operation. Reason we have selected you is you are an American. You speak French fluently. You are a former employee of the Banque de France.’
    Hardly an inspiring CV, he thought, but he couldn’t disagree with any of it, and he sighed, realising those seemingly innocent qualifications could once again put his life at risk.
    ‘The platinum business was incredible,’ Smee said as though he wished he’d been a part of it, and Ben could almost feel respect in the man’s smile. ‘You showed an unusual amount of resource and courage. Impressive.’
    ‘It’s an episode of my life I’d rather forget.’
    ‘Quite so. Never know how we’ll react to situations until we face them. Some would collapse and fail. You met the problems head on. Even if it didn’t end well for you.’ He coughed and stared at Ben for what seemed an eternity as though re-evaluating his suitability for the job ahead. ‘Before that, you and your colleagues at the bank got France’s gold reserves out of the country…’ His words hung in the air encouraging Ben to fill the silence.
    ‘We had to get it out of Paris, out of the country, before the Nazis invaded the city. There were two shipments – one to Canada and the other to Dakar in Senegal.’
    ‘Quite. Tell me about the gold going to Canada.’
    ‘We transported the gold to Brest.’ He remembered the night well. The gold destined for Canada, around 350 tonnes of it, was loaded onto army trucks in heavy rain in Paris. Then he and the bank’s director, Philippe Bernay, followed the convoy to the coast in the banker’s Bentley. Once there the gold was loaded aboard the French Navy cruiser Emile