Jones breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Good to hear.’
‘What about you?’
‘Conscious and angry. I’m ready to fuck some boys up.’
Payne smiled. ‘What are you working with?’
‘A DSR-1. Standard optics. Plenty of ammo.’
‘How many team mates?’
‘One down, four in play.’
‘Who are we facing?’
‘Don’t know, don’t care.’
‘You say that now. You’ll change your mind when the cops show up.’
Jones nodded. ‘Good point.’
‘Out of curiosity, what’s the penalty for justifiable homicide in this country?’
‘For you, nothing. For me, they lynch me in Berlin.’
Payne laughed at the comment; Jones was joking. The two of them had spent a lot of time in Germany – mostly shuttling in and out of American military bases on their way to foreign missions – and had never experienced any racial problems. If anything, German people went out of their way to prove Nazism was a thing of the past. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but right now I’m more concerned about our friend than I am about you.’
‘First, you want to split up, and now this. I’m starting to re-evaluate our friendship.’
Payne ignored him. ‘Where’s the sniper you replaced? Is he nearby?’
‘Why? Do you want his phone number?’
‘Actually, I need his help.’
‘With what?’
‘Our escape.’
‘Yours and his, or yours and mine?’
‘All of the above.’
Jones smiled. ‘In that case, I’ll let you talk to him.’
Ulster’s confusion worked to his advantage for the first ten minutes or so. The truth was he honestly didn’t know why Payne and Jones had sprinted out of the King’s House on Schachen in such a hurry or why they thought his life was in danger. All they had told him was to lock the door and keep an eye on Heidi until they returned. Obviously, something big was going on, but he didn’t know what it was since he hadn’t heard the shots while he was inside the house.
Unfortunately for Ulster, Heidi was twice as confused and three times as feisty. Hoping to get as much information as possible, she peppered him with question after question – about Payne and Jones, the real reason they were in Bavaria, and everything else she could think of – which put a man like Ulster in an uncomfortable situation. He was an educator at heart, someone who enjoyed sharing his knowledge with the rest of the world, as could be seen from his life’s work. At first, he answered her questions openly and honestly because he really didn’t know where Payne and Jones had gone, but after that, she touched on some topics he knew he shouldn’t talk about. He tried to change the subject and tried to bite his tongue, especially when the spotlight focused on Ludwig, but she eventually wore him down.
After that, Ulster was putty in her hands.
33
The guy’s name was Collins. Until his arrival in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, he had never been a sniper but had volunteered for the position because he thought it would be a lot easier than hiking in the woods all day. For the past two years, he had worked for Kaiser, mostly doing security but occasionally doing grunt work. Like most people in the criminal world, his loyalty only went so far. In their business, the main motivation was money.
Payne used that knowledge to his advantage. ‘Have you been paid yet?’
Collins answered over the radio. ‘No.’
‘Would you like a big raise?’
‘What do I have to do?’
‘Simple. Help me get your boss to safety.’
‘He’s still alive?’ Collins asked.
‘Alive but unconscious. I need help moving him.’
‘To where?’
‘His ATV.’
‘Then what?’
‘You tell us. Any contingency plans?’
Collins gave it some thought. If he risked his life and Kaiser survived, he would get a huge bonus and a possible bump up in the organization. Both sounded good to him. ‘If the cops showed up, we were supposed to-’
‘Shut up!’ Payne ordered. ‘Not on the radio! Never on the radio! Someone might be listening. Tell my partner instead. If he likes it, I’ll like it. Then we’ll go from there.’
Collins glanced at Jones, who was studying the surrounding tree line with the rifle’s scope. If anyone threatened the bunker, Jones would take him out.
‘What’s the plan?’ Jones asked as he continued to search for targets.
Collins explained. ‘If the cops showed up, we were supposed to meet at the southern end of the gorge.’
‘What gorge?’
‘The Partnach Gorge. It’s halfway between the bunker and the city. There’s a clearing on the far end where the chopper can pick us up.’
‘Then what?’
‘We fly to Austria. It’s just over the mountains.’
Jones liked its simplicity. ‘Sounds good to me. Can I speak to him?’
‘Who?’
‘The pilot.’
‘Why do you want to talk to him?’
‘Because the plan sucks if he doesn’t show up.’
Collins nodded in agreement. ‘He’s on a different channel.’
‘And what about your girlfriends? Will they know what to do?’
‘Just say the word, and they’ll meet us there.’
Ten minutes later, Payne and Collins were in the cul-de-sac attaching a metal cable to the back of Kaiser’s ATV. The goal was to lift four crates – the van Goghs, the gold, Conrad Ulster’s books and papers, and the family heirlooms stored during the war – with the pulley system and load them into the off-road trailer before Payne carried Kaiser up the ladder. Then they would strap him to the top of the crates and haul everything to the rendezvous site.
Because of the extra payload – and Payne’s desire to evacuate all the men at once – two choppers would be needed. To accommodate them, Jones ordered the pilot to fly up the mountain to the King’s House on Schachen and tell Baptiste to meet them at the far end of the gorge. If things went smoothly, the choppers would swoop in, pick them up, and then fly them across the border where they could get Kaiser the medical care he needed at a private facility. Meanwhile, Ulster’s chopper would continue on to Switzerland where he would protect the cargo at the Archives until Kaiser was healthy enough to travel.
‘Can you drive this thing?’ Payne asked as he double-checked the cable.
Collins nodded. ‘I drove it up the slope on day one.’
‘Carrying what?’
‘Most of our gear and some of the men.’
‘You any good?’
‘At what?’
‘Driving ATVs.’
‘Yes, sir. I take them hunting all the time.’
Payne stood. ‘In that case, you’re hired. You drive, and I’ll feed the crates through the hole. Do you think you can handle that?’
‘Yes, sir. Piece of cake.’
‘Don’t get cocky, Collins. If you fuck up, my partner will shoot you.’
Collins gulped hard, then started the engine as Payne hustled to the bunker. Per military tradition, he loved busting the balls of his subordinates. It used to be one of his biggest joys in life, but he had been forced to curtail this habit when he took control of his grandfather’s business. During his first week on the job, he had teased one of his assistants – a mild rebuke without profanity – and made her cry. Obviously she had overreacted, but he had felt so bad about the episode that he had censored his comments in the workplace ever since. It was one of the reasons he teased Jones about everything. He knew his best friend wouldn’t cry.
‘Are we clear?’ Payne asked from the bunker entrance.
‘Clear,’ Jones said, still searching for targets.
‘Then let’s roll.’
As Collins inched the ATV forward, Payne steadied the van Gogh crate from his position on the bunker floor. More cumbersome than heavy, the crate was slowly hauled to the surface as Payne supported it from underneath, just in case the cable snapped or the bottom of the crate broke. Step by step, he climbed the ladder until the cargo reached the top. A few minutes later, all four crates were in the trailer, ready to be towed down the mountain.