Rhinoceros

'Don't like this place. Supposing that wall breaks?'

'We drown.'

Delgado grinned wolfishly as he saw Barton's expression. As a method of controlling his brutal gang he was enjoying it. Despite their weird appearance – Slovaks, Croats and men from other parts of the world most Westerners had never heard of – they had all been well trained in the use of weapons. All had been given large sums of money and promised more when they had accomplished the massacre.

'Tomorrow,' Delgado said, 'we do it. Here.'

He pointed with a long thick finger to the map of Schleswig-Holstein pinned to a blackboard beside him. He was pointing to the autobahn which eventually led to Flensburg. Then he glared at Barton and Panko.

'You have the trucks?'

He was referring to four Discovery Land Rovers, vehicles capable of traversing almost any kind of territory.

'They're in the garage you hired,' Barton said sullenly.

'How we know they go up autobahn?' demanded the frisky Panko.

'Is quickest way. They will go.'

'What do we do to them?' Barton asked. 'Like the Turm?'

He was being sarcastic, recalling the fiasco. Delgado could have smashed his face in. He breathed heavily and then told them.

'We kill all Tweed men. Kill. Kill. Kill. OK?'

There was a growl of approval from the men assembled below him, a growl like that of predatory animals. Several raised their hands in a clawlike gesture.

'What wrong with you. Barton?' Delgado demanded, glaring at his target.

'People outside may hear us.'

'You think this?' Delgado gave his wolfish grin again. 'I ask you, clever Barton. You hear ships' sirens?'

'No.'

'Beyond that wall river Elbe. Ships moving all time. Using sirens. You do not hear? They do not hear us. Idiot!'

Delgado paused. 'Now, tomorrow, this we do…'

It was evening when Tweed summoned Marler, Butler and Nield to his suite where they joined Paula and Newman. In his shirt sleeves with the windows wide open, Tweed had the map of Schleswig-Holstein spread out on a large table.

'We've had a mysterious invitation to visit Flensburg tomorrow,' he explained. 'It is a trap. We will walk into their trap. Marler, you will be in charge of the operation to destroy our attackers once and for all. To use a certain phrase, we take no prisoners.'

Paula was startled. She had never heard Tweed issue such an order before. She looked at him as he stood, crouched over the map, arms wide spread. His mood was one of deadly and controlled determination.

'We drive up,' Tweed continued, 'in the cream Mercedes which the enemy has now become accustomed to seeing us use. All except you, Harry. You will leave half an hour later, after we have gone, driving after us up the A7. In the blue Mercedes. You will carry one of the advanced mobile phones – so you can contact Marler if you see something he should know about. You are our distant rearguard.'

'We drive up this direct route, then?' Marler queried. His finger traced the autobahn from the northern outskirts of Hamburg all the way to Flensburg in the far north.

'That's the route.'

'So the distance from here to Flensburg is…'

'One hundred and eighty kilometres,' Tweed replied. 'Driving at normal speed, not like a bat out of hell, it takes about two hours to reach Flensburg.'

'Traffic. How much of it?' Marler wanted to know.

'Hardly any – even at this time of year – once we've left Hamburg and its suburbs behind. It's lonely and pretty much deserted.'

'We'll hope they follow us in some kind of convoy. They'll then overtake Harry in his blue Merc and he can warn us they're coming. But they may not do that. They may instead set up an ambush ahead of us.'

I'll be driving,' Newman remarked.

'If you run into an ambush,' Marler ordered, 'you reverse like mad. If there's a wood close by you back into that. We all then abandon the car toute-de-suite.'

'Weapons?' queried Newman.

'Everyone will carry grenades, the more deadly type, tear-gas canisters, automatic rifles, handguns and then there are the three Uzis. One for you, Newman, another for Nield and I'll take the third.'

'I'd like an Uzi,' Harry piped up. 'I'll be coming up behind you, may get there in time to take them in the rear.'

'Agreed. You can have mine. Now, tactics…'

It was almost dark when everyone had left the room except for Tweed and Paula. Butler and Nield were going to fetch the rest of the armament to conceal it in the blue Mercedes. Paula checked her watch.

'Doesn't look as though Mrs France is coming. She was due hours ago.'

'She may have been delayed – or not be coming at all. If she does turn up I've warned Keith about her. I shall bring her in at a certain stage – to make sure she isn't fooling us.'

'It struck me Marler has a good grasp of strategy. When he wanted to know the geography of the land on the way to Flensburg and you said flat as a billiard table. He seemed to be happy about that.'

'Because he realizes we shall be fighting a peasant army – even though well-trained. But trained in the mountains of the Balkans or the Tatra Mountains in Slovakia. They are accustomed to having rocks to shoot from behind, very rough country. Exposed out in the open, their training may well be useless.' He paused. 'How do you feel about it?'

'Excited. Now don't worry. I'll be as cold as ice when it really starts. We could have done with Mark Wendover,' she added sorrowfully.

'I talked to Cord Dillon in America when I was alone. He was appalled. But the grim arrangements have to be made. I've also spoken to Kuhlmann. Now the autopsy has taken place, Kuhlmann is arranging for the body to be flown back to the States. Dillon will meet the flight at Dulles Airport.'

The phone rang. Paula answered, then called out to Tweed.

'It's Mrs France. She's downstairs in the lobby. So I've asked her to come up. I'll go and fetch her…'

Mrs France entered in her usual fuddle, grasping a folder under her arm. She was waving her hands about and wore a floral dress.

'Oh, Mr Tweed! How can I apologize enough? I am so very sorry to be so late. Quite dreadful behaviour. But I had no choice. Rondel gave me some work which he insisted I should deal with at once. I told him I was going shopping but he said I could go to a late-opening store. Will you ever forgive me?'

Tweed waited until his plump visitor had run out of breath. Then he seated her on a couch and she placed the folder on a coffee table in front of her. He suggested she might like a drink.

'A brandy and soda?'

'That would be lovely. Really lovely. And so kind of you. The moment I saw you I knew you were a kind man. Such a very kind man.'

Paula poured her a drink. Her hand slipped and she poured more brandy into the glass than she had intended. She smiled as she handed it to her visitor.

'It may be too strong. I made a mistake. I can pour a milder one. ..'

She stopped speaking. Mrs France had swallowed half the glass at one go. Her eyes, behind the atrocious spectacles, sparkled with pleasure.

'Oh, I feel so much better. I had to rush to get here in my VW. But I had to be careful I was not followed.'

'Who would follow you?' Tweed enquired, sitting opposite her.

'The chauffeur. Danzer! He creeps about the house, appears at my side like a ghost. A peculiar man. Not the sort I'd expect to be a chauffeur. A hard man but intelligent.'

'You have something to tell me, to show me?'

'Yes. Something is wrong at the Zurcher Kredit.' She was opening her folder, producing a sheaf of bank statements. 'There is no one in Germany I dare talk to about this.'

'Mrs France.' Tweed stood up. 'I have a close friend over here for twenty-four hours. Would you mind if he joined us?'