“Von Goss chose well,” Trench said softly. “An attack from the air seems the only way to reach him. Helicopters perhaps.”
“Not likely. The tree cover’s too high even at this elevation.”
“Good point.”
Up ahead, Bane thought he caught a flutter of movement and then a reflection flickering, He turned toward Trench, noticed his focused eyes.
“You saw it too,” he advanced.
“A lookout, I should guess. It appears, Winter Man, we’ve been made.”
“Good. Saves us the trouble of an unexpected arrival, so long as we’re not greeted with bullets.”
“They probably think we’re lost vacationers,” Trench proposed.
“Desperate men like Von Goss often act rashly.”
“Quite close to what we’re doing right now.”
Bane slowed the Ford to a crawl as the ledge turns became maddeningly close. It seemed at times that part of their car actually passed over the black edge, teetering on oblivion before the wheel drew it back.
“They’ll want our weapons, Winter Man,” he said suddenly.
“Then we’ll give them over.”
“Of course, we haven’t even considered the possibility that Von Goss may be in with COBRA and that we could be walking straight into a trap set for us by Chilgers.”
“If so, it’s about to spring so we might as well have at the cheese.”
Bane swung the car slowly around still another corner and jammed the brakes hard. Light had poured into his eyes, blinding him. White, hot light that singed his pupils beneath his lids.
“Stay where you are!” a voice commanded, echoing in the misty mountain air. “Do not leave your car! Repeat, do not leave your car!”
The light stayed locked on his eyes, and Bane finally adjusted to it at about the same time his ears picked up the crunching of gravel — coming for them fast, four sets of footsteps by the sound of it. Then two large shapes were hovering in front of the Ford’s hood, blocking the piercing light out. Each held an automatic rifle tight at waist level, focused on the windshield. Bane killed the engine, heard the latch on his door being pulled.
“You are trespassing on private property,” the same commanding voice told him. “You will leave immediately.”
Bane glanced quickly at Trench. “We’ve come to see Professor Von Goss.”
The barrel of another automatic rifle jabbed him in the ribs. “I’m going to pull the trigger unless you give me an awfully good reason not to,” the cold voice snapped.
Bane turned slowly and met a face just as cold. “And if you do Professor Von Goss will remain a prisoner of fear on this mountain for the rest of his life. We’ve come here … to help him and to seek his help.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man said.
“The Professor — we’re on the same side. We’re his only hope as he is ours. You can kill the two of us now as we sit but when Von Goss finds out who we are and where we came from, he’ll have your head.”
The man hesitated and Bane knew the tide had turned.
“Well?” he prodded.
“Who should I say is here?” the man asked finally.
“Tell him Joshua Bane. Tell him I’m here about Vortex and I know what they did to Metzencroy. Tell him—”
“I’ll relay your message,” the man said impatiently.
He turned away and crunched more gravel under his heavy step. Bane’s vision had adjusted to the light enough to make out a pair of jeeps squeezed together on the narrow road, just to the right of a small cut in the mountain’s side that allowed for turning around. This had hardly been a random setting for seizure. It was perfect for the action.
Bane caught a walkie-talkie’s crackle and then a muffled voice. More crackle and silence. He looked at Trench. The killer’s fingers had crept under his overcoat, ready to whip out his pistol at an instant’s notice. Gravel crunched back toward them. A good sign.
“I’m instructed to lead you up,” the man at his window said.
“Thank you.”
The man eyed him, gave a warped snicker. “I’ll take your weapons here.”
Bane handed his over and Trench followed.
“Any more?” the man demanded.
“Two rifles in the trunk,” Trench answered.
“You’ll be searched before we let you see the professor. If you’re lying, you’ll die.” A pause. “And those orders came from Von Goss himself.”
A few hundred yards up the pass, the road leveled off and a thick slice in the dense forest rose to greet them. Bane saw lights flickering between the trees as they swung to the left and the break in the mountain’s rise. The gravel road turned to a stone-laden driveway, circular in construction, weaving toward the origin of the lights and then cutting a U around a private forest between the house and the road. The sound of the tires rolling over the stones reminded Bane of a rattlesnake’s trademark and he could only hope they hadn’t been lured into the den of one. He checked the silent Trench and found him impassive and expressionless.
Before them, a surprisingly large, wood-colored house sprang from the mountain as it broke to rise again. The house was built right into the side, built on stilts and cinderblocks instead of a foundation. Bane made out sun decks on either end of the structure, an armed guard watching alertly from each. The house was long but narrow, and drenched in floodlights as was the surrounding area. He noticed most of the shades were drawn, a few windows even shuttered as a precaution against snipers, and he couldn’t help but be amazed by Von Goss’s precautions. Calling this a fortress was an understatement. Tree cover made it totally inaccessible by air, and the mountain at its rear made ground defense a relatively simple matter with the number of forces undoubtedly present. Add to this the narrow, precarious approach road and attack bordered on suicide. It would take an army. Armed guards patrolled the house’s front in regular patterns. The two men on the outdoor decks swept portable spotlights about the trees, illuminating the night in long, thin patches.
Otto Von Goss was certainly safe.
Bane pulled the Ford to a halt when he saw the lead jeep’s brake lights flash on and heard the whine of the jeep behind him doing the same. He and Trench exchanged nods and waited to be led from the cars before climbing out. Their submission was total; weaponless, they really had no other choice.
“Inside,” the man from the road told them, hanging back beyond the range of any attack they might have mustered. A professional surely, probably a mercenary and a damn good one with battle experience. Von Goss was sparing no expense.
A large wooden door opened before them and they climbed a set of steep steps toward it. Bane and Trench passed through, with a half-dozen men right behind, to find themselves in a spacious hall warmed by a fire from a central hearth. It smelled old, clean, and rustic, had wood-paneled walls and a floor of parquet. The hall was a genuine masterpiece of construction.
The man with the cold voice moved in front of them and opened the door to an equally spacious living room filled with rich leather furniture which played perfectly off the wood around it.