“No more than five, ten minutes, I’d say.”
“Thank you.”
The truck started, the engine sputtering before it turned over, then accelerated down the road. After a few minutes of driving, he called out, “I think we made it. No one’s following.”
Even so, Remi didn’t relax until they arrived in Wrocław and the four of them were out of the truck. He’d parked in the street behind the antique store, and she was grateful that no one was around to see them emerging from the hidden compartment below the floorboards. “We can’t thank you enough,” Remi said. “We owe you our lives.”
He smiled at her, his green eyes alight. “My pleasure. I’d heard rumors that the Guard was active in these woods. But this is the first time I’ve ever seen them.”
“We hope,” Sam said, “you’ll never encounter them again.”
They followed him into the back of the darkened shop. He turned on a light, and Remi was surprised by the quality of the antiques as she ran her fingers along a spinning wheel that was from the turn of the nineteenth century. “These are beautiful.”
“Feel free to look around.”
“We really do need to get going,” Sam said.
As the man walked them to the front door, Sam paused by a glass case near the cash register. “Quite a few old keys here. Do you know anything about them?”
“A bit.”
“We have one we found in the tunnels,” he said, slipping his pack from his shoulder and taking the key from one of the pockets.
The man took it from him, moving toward the window for better light. “Very distinctive bow.”
“‘Bow’?” Sergei asked, trying to see what he was talking about.
“The grip,” he said, holding it up. “Looks a lot like one I’ve seen around here fairly recently. Some are more decorative than others, which is why I have so many. Old keys appeal to collectors…” He eyed the keys in the glass cases, then looked around the shop. “Where did I see it?… Ah, yes. Over here.” He crossed the room to an old writing desk, turning a lock and pulling out a key, which he brought over to them, placing it side by side with the key they found in the tunnel.
The bow of it was similar, though not as extravagant, as theirs. The bit that slid into the keyhole was also different.
Remi examined the desk. “Where was that made?”
“Good question,” he said, returning the key to Sam. “I bought it from a man who restores old furniture. Wilhelm Schroeder. He has a shop in Münster. He’d definitely know something about the locks and keys of old furniture.”
Sam unzipped a small pocket in his pack, dropping the key inside. “Guess that’s our next stop. Gustaw, you’re welcome to come.”
“Thanks, but no. I need to get back. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?” Sam asked.
“I’ve been fighting the Guard this long on my own. And now that you have what they’re after, I expect things will ease up — around my property at least.”
“There’s still the Gold Train to be found,” Remi pointed out.
“True. And now we know which tunnel it isn’t in. So there’s that.” He nodded at Sam’s pack, where the tin and key were hidden. “Let me know what that leads to. I’ll be interested to find out.”
“Almost forgot,” Sam said. He took out the cash and the gold bar. “The paper money might not be any good, but I’m pretty sure the gold’s gone up a bit since then.”
“Thanks,” Gustaw said, hefting the gold bar in his hand. “I can put this to good use.”
He caught a ride home with the antique dealer, and Sam, Sergei, and Remi took a taxi to the airport. Once there, they purchased Sergei’s ticket to Kaliningrad, since he had to return to work, then walked him as far as security clearance. Sam shook hands with him. Remi, however, gave him a hug. “We can’t thank you enough. Give our love to your Cousin Leonid.”
“I will,” he told her.
After watching him clear security, they left, texting their crew that they were on their way.
“That’s strange,” Sam said, reading the return text.
Remi glanced over but couldn’t see it in the glare of light. “What is?”
“The pilot says our jet’s been moved to a private hangar.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t know, but he’s telling us to get there right away.”
42
The main hangar door was closed, but a side door was open, and Remi could see one of their two pilots standing just inside it. “He looks worried,” she said.
“Let me go in first.”
As Sam was about to enter, a man in a gray suit walked out. “Mr. and Mrs. Fargo? So glad you could make it.”
“And you are…?” Sam asked.
“Forgive me. Tomasz Gorski, with the Internal Security Agency. We have a few questions about your activities in Wałbrzych.”
He indicated they should precede him into the hangar.
Sam went first, Remi followed. Both stopped short at the sight of ten uniformed, armed men standing just inside, as well as the Fargo flight crew seated nearby. The crew gave Sam and Remi nervous smiles, but before she or Sam had a chance to ask if they were okay, Tomasz closed and locked the door behind them.
“What’s going on?” Sam demanded.
“All in good time. I’m just waiting for the commander of—”
“Are we under arrest?” Sam asked.
“Of course not.”
“Then why the armed guards?” He nodded toward the group of men. “And the locked door?”
“For your protection.”
Remi moved closer to Sam, resting her hand on his arm, feeling at once how tense he was. He leaned into her, whispering, “Feel free to lay on the charm.”
Remi tried for a doe-like expression. “Captain—”
“Lieutenant,” he corrected. “But, please. Call me Tomasz.”
“Lieutenant,” she continued. “Perhaps if you took a moment to explain to us why we’re being detained?” She gave him her sweetest smile, noticing a slight softening in his expression. “Please?”
“What I can say is, we’re aware you have been to several restricted areas and possibly removed items from those areas without approval from the government. Therefore, we’d appreciate your cooperation so that we can quickly resolve this matter and get you on your way. Once the commander arrives, of course.”
Sam crossed his arms. “And how long will that take?”
“Soon.”
Remi eyed the armed men, noting each with his finger relaxed along the trigger guard of his weapon, ready for action. She focused on the lieutenant again. “The only reason we neglected to get the proper authorization was because circumstances forced us to take shelter in the very tunnels we’re being accused of entering. People were shooting at us.”
He gave a bland smile but didn’t comment.
Time to change tactics, she thought. “I’m sure that you can appreciate that after our… narrow escape, I’d like to freshen up.” When he seemed unmoved by her request, she added, “Or is there some reason we can’t wait on the jet?”
“Forgive me, Mrs. Fargo. Of course. You are not prisoners here.”
“Thank you.” She and Sam started toward the plane.
“But I must ask your husband to leave his backpack behind.”
They stopped, looking back at him. “Why?” Sam asked.
“We know you have guns. And there is the matter of what was taken from the tunnel… I should have specified that you’ll need to be accompanied by a guard. In case there are more weapons in your hold.” His smile this time was patronizing. “My source tells me this is probably the case.”
Sam slid the pack from his shoulder, setting it on the ground, just as someone knocked at the hangar door. Several men pointed their weapons that direction as Tomasz asked the visitors to identify themselves. Apparently satisfied by the response, he opened the door.