Rhinoceros

'We have indeed got all the rest of the day if we needed it.'

Oskar was not a man easily intimidated. He had already noticed how Thunder had positioned himself. He was invited to sit in a low chair placed in front of the desk. He selected another high-backed chair from against the wall, carted it over, shoving the lower chair aside. Sitting down he crossed his long fat legs, gave a beaming smile.

'The problem.' Oskar announced, 'is Tweed. He is here and has based himself in the Four Seasons Hotel, roughly a mile closer in to the city…'

'I know that,' Thunder interrupted. 'Delgado phoned me at my home. We have to deal with him – permanently and immediately. We must make preparations…'

'They are already in the process of being made.' Oskar's tone was lofty. 'To eliminate him and his team.'

'How many in the team?' Thunder snapped, feeling he was losing control.

'That we don't know, have no idea. But Delgado has twenty men, which should be more than enough to do the job.'

'I would certainly hope so.'

'It will be simple and easy,' Oskar assured him.

'You think so?' Thunder leaned across his desk, lost control. 'Now listen to me, you complacent buffoon. Tweed is very clever, very experienced, very dangerous.' He raised his voice. 'So you make damned sure he doesn't come back alive.'

'You are tense,' Oskar replied calmly. He folded his arms over his ample chest. 'Tension causes a man – or a woman – to make bad mistakes. You must remain calm. Incidentally, they may never find the bodies.'

'That would be the best solution.'

'I thought you would like that.' Oskar gave his beaming smile again. 'And you will never again insult me by using that word "buffoon". Never! You have understood that?'

'I heard you.' Inwardly Thunder was struggling for control. He had to remember he was not back home now. 'So now can we talk about the arrangements?'

289'I was just about to explain them. You stay in this hotel at all times. You do not go outside. You will travel to your destination, the island of Sylt, by helicopter…"

'I never travel in them.'

'You will this time. Or you will not go. It is a large machine which will fly from a remote part of the airport. A taxi will call for you. The driver's name is Thomas. The other four members…'

Oskar paused and Thunder was appalled. Surely Oskar wouldn't know about the Elite Club, about who belonged to it?

'Members?' Thunder croaked.

"The other four members of the party will arrive in separate taxis close to the machine. It will fly you to a secret airfield close to Sylt. From there you will board a train which will take you across the embankment to your rendezvous. It could be tomorrow or the day after.'

Oskar stood up, straightened his jacket. Then he replaced his high-backed chair by the wall and put the small chair in front of the desk.

'Is that all?' asked Thunder.

'Isn't it enough?' Oskar enquired and left the suite.

CHAPTER 26

Tweed had just returned to his suite with Paula and Newman when someone hammered on the door non-stop. Newman waved the other two back, approached the door with the Smith amp; Wesson by his side. He opened the door a few inches, then wide.

Pete Nield walked in. He was his normal cool self but Tweed noticed he was fingering his small moustache. That, added to the urgent hammering, told him Nield was excited.

'Take a seat, Pete,' Tweed suggested. 'Relax.'

'Like a glass of nice cold water?' Paula asked him.

'Thanks. Yes, I would. I'm dry as the Sahara.'

He drank the whole glass in two swallows, accepted a refill. He leant back against the couch and grinned.

'I have a little news to report.'

'Now why did I get that idea?' Tweed chaffed him.

'Gavin Thunder has arrived in Hamburg. He's staying at the Atlantic.'

There was a short silence. Newman folded his arms, standing up. Paula sat on a couch, curled her legs underneath her, whistled.

'In a double-length stretch limo,' she said. 'With a flare of trumpets and a band playing.'

'Don't you believe it,' Nield told her. 'He sneaked in like a thief in the night. Comes in an ordinary taxi. Must have paid the driver as the cab was nearing the hotel. Leaves the porter to get his bag, hustles up the steps and he's out of sight.'

'Sure it was him?' queried Newman.

'Bet my pension on it. I was parked in the Opel not far from the hotel entrance. But far enough back to use binoculars. It was him. I've seen him often enough blasting away at an interviewer on TV. Now I'd better get back there – see who else turns up.'

'You've done well,' Tweed said. 'Yes, go back, keep checking.'

'Well, that's some development,' Paula commented.

'The eagles gather,' Tweed said, half to himself, standing on the balcony, gazing into space.

Less than a minute later there was a gentle tapping on the door. When Newman opened it Lisa walked in very quickly. She was holding a folded sheet of paper in her hand.

'You'll never guess what I found slipped under my door. It could have been there a little while. I spent ages in the shower. Here it is.'

She handed Tweed the piece of paper. He unfolded it, took his time studying it. Nothing in his face showed what his reaction was to the contents. They were typed.

Drive to Flensburg tomorrow. You will find important information waiting for you there. Very urgent. Lisa.

He handed it to Paula. While she was reading it Lisa was walking back and forth, couldn't keep still.

'The only thing wrong with that message,' she said, 'is I didn't write it. So why has someone put my name on it?'

'Maybe because the sender doesn't like you,' Tweed suggested. 'But the interesting point is it was typed on the same machine as the earlier message inviting us to assemble at the Turm. The letter "i" jumps on both typed messages.'

'It's a trap,' said Paula, who had handed the paper to Newman.

'Oh, it's a trap all right.' agreed Tweed as he took a map from a drawer. 'If I remember from a trip I made quite a few years ago, the direct route up through Schleswig-Holstein is along autobahn No. 7. Yes, I'm right, it is. And, I have a good memory for routes I've driven along in the past. I can see a lot of it in my mind. The A7 to Flensburg is a very lonely route. Mile upon mile of farmland and nothing else except for the odd dwelling all on its own.'

'Ideal country for an ambush,' Newman observed.

'It is that. But that could be turned to our advantage.'

'You do believe,' Lisa began nervously, 'that message is nothing to do with me?'

'Of course we do,' Tweed said with a smile.

'Then I think I'll go back to my room. I threw on clothes to bring that to you. I need to get dressed properly.' She hesitated. 'I can have dinner with you tonight?'

'Let's make sure nothing else develops. Keep in touch…'

Paula, again on a couch with her legs curled under her, was trying to make up her mind. I can't keep this back any longer., she decided.

'Now Lisa's gone I have something you ought to know…'

They listened in silence as she described her visit to Lisa's room, how she had answered the phone. The voice which had said 'Oskar' before she had broken the connection.

'And,' she concluded, 'while she was here we let slip the idea that maybe we could plan an ambush.'

Tuts a different complexion on a lot of things,' Newman commented grimly. 'We have a spy who knows too much about us.'

The huge underground room, beneath an unoccupied warehouse and alongside the river Elbe, had twenty men of varying nationalities assembled. It was a bleak chamber with an ancient roof constructed of giant beams. The floor was paved with old stones, the sound of seeping water added to the unsettling atmosphere. The water was trickling in between gaps in a massive stone wall which looked as though it had stood there for a hundred years. An uneasy feeling was apparent among the villainous occupants. Perched on a heavy wooden crate Delgado watched them, keeping them in suspense deliberately. Barton broke the eerie silence.