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The Secret Crown

Page 18

by Chris Kuzneski


  ‘What about me?’ Richter demanded. He was the largest of Kaiser’s men, but looked the dumbest. For some reason, he perpetually had a look of puzzlement on his face.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Payne assured him. ‘I have a special job for you. Probably the most important job of all. You’re in charge of the trailer. If it gets stuck, I want you to free it. If the crates start to slide off, I want you to fix the straps. And if someone tries to examine the cargo, I want you to growl at them like a junkyard dog. Do you think you can handle that?’

  Richter started barking. ‘I can do that like a champ!’

  Payne fought the urge to smile. ‘Glad to hear it. Any questions?’

  Huber raised his hand again. ‘What’s your job?’

  ‘I’m in charge of security. I’ll keep an eye on the woods from the back. If I see any problems, I’ll let you know asap.’

  Huber pointed at Jones. ‘And what about you?’

  Jones wiped his nose with his sleeve. ‘I’m the token black guy. If the cops show up, I’ll make sure they chase me instead of you.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ asked Richter.

  Jones rolled his eyes. Some people had no sense of humour.

  37

  Heidi didn’t know what was going on, but she knew Ulster was hiding something. She could tell from the way he stammered every time she asked him a question about his visit to the King’s House on Schachen. He had the same reaction when she asked him about Ludwig; even simple questions about his interest in the subject matter seemed to cause him a great deal of stress. First Ulster would blush, then he would stumble around like a politician trying to evade a scandal, then he would try to change the subject.

  In many ways, she found his behaviour endearing. He simply refused to lie and was willing to do just about anything to avoid it, including locking himself in Ludwig’s private bathroom where he had remained for nearly fifteen minutes. After a while, she realized she needed to change her approach. If Ulster wasn’t willing to talk about his visit, maybe she could convince him to talk about something else that would eventually get him to reveal small pieces of the puzzle.

  But first, she had to lure him out.

  ‘Take as long as you need,’ she said through the bathroom door. ‘I’m pretty tired, so I’m heading upstairs to the Turkish Hall. I’ll be resting on one of the couches if you want to find me.’

  Ulster replied a few seconds later. ‘Is that permitted?’

  ‘Is what permitted?’

  ‘Sitting on Ludwig’s furniture.’

  She fought her urge to smile. ‘I won’t tell if you won’t tell.’

  He opened the door a crack, just wide enough to make eye contact. ‘Rest assured, my dear. Your secret is safe with me.’

  A few minutes later, the two of them were reclining on the lavish couches that lined the walls of the opulent room. Ulster stared at the gold fountain in the middle of the hall, admiring its handcrafted beauty as water trickled from one level to the next until it splashed into the tiny pool on the bottom. The relaxing sound took him to another place, one far from the stress of his everyday life, which was why it had been installed there to begin with.

  ‘I feel like a king,’ he said playfully.

  ‘And I your queen,’ she replied.

  Ulster laughed loudly. Even though he housed some of the most spectacular artefacts ever discovered, he never got to enjoy them in this fashion. He could touch them, and study them, and admire them all he wanted, but he couldn’t lounge on them. To a historian, this was an extra-special treat – tasting the life of the man he was researching. It gave him the context he normally lacked when he delved into the mysteries of the past.

  Heidi noticed the satisfied smile on his face. She hoped that meant his guard was slipping. ‘Tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?’

  Ulster put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. ‘I run a small research facility in the mountains of Switzerland. It’s called the Ulster Archives.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘I never joke about research.’

  She slid closer to him on the couch. ‘Wait a minute! Are you Petr Ulster?’

  He opened one eye. ‘I am indeed. Have you heard of me?’

  She nodded enthusiastically. ‘I read a piece you wrote for The Times.’

  He opened his other eye. ‘Which one?’

  ‘The London Times.’

  ‘No, my dear, I meant which piece. I’ve written several.’

  She smiled warmly. ‘It chronicled your recent trip to Greece, and all the obstacles you were forced to overcome. I never knew so much had to be done after a treasure was discovered.’

  He leaned forward and met her gaze. She seemed truly interested in the subject matter, which was a rarity for him. He hardly ever met fans outside the world of academia. ‘It wasn’t easy, I can assure you of that. Then again, certain problems were expected before I made my trip. Gold brings out the worst in people. Always has, always will.’

  ‘I bet you have thousands of stories.’

  ‘I certainly do, but most of them are boring.’

  She laughed. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  He shook his head. ‘Trust me, my dear, my stories have put more people to sleep than late-night television. If you want excitement, you should talk to Jonathon and David. They are the real heroes of Greece. After all, they were the ones who found the treasure.’

  It took a few seconds for the information to sink in. When it did, she felt a jolt of adrenaline. ‘You mean Jon and DJ?’

  ‘I do indeed.’

  ‘The guys who ran out of here?’

  He nodded. ‘The very same.’

  ‘They discovered the Greek treasure?’

  ‘And several other artefacts. They seem to have a nose for it.’

  Heidi thought back to her initial conversation with Payne and tried to recall what he had said about their trip to Mount Schachen. Very little, if she remembered correctly. He claimed they had flown up the mountain because of Ulster’s weight and were there to keep him out of trouble. Yet ten minutes into their visit, they pulled out their weapons and abandoned Ulster, forcing him to fend for himself. Obviously, they were more concerned about someone else.

  Or something else.

  Maybe that was it. Maybe they were in Bavaria hunting for gold. After all, what had Ulster said about the duo? They seemed to have a nose for it. Over the years, there had been a lot of speculation about Ludwig and his family fortune. Perhaps they were investigating some of the rumours? If so, maybe she could help their cause. As an employee of the Bavarian Palace Department, she had worked at Ludwig’s other castles and knew many things about his life that couldn’t be found in books. If she could help them find a long-lost treasure, it would be the thrill of her lifetime!

  Then again, why would they turn to someone like her?

  Ulster owned the best historical research facility in the world and had a vast network of contacts round the globe. If he needed assistance, he would call the Palace Department’s headquarters in Munich or fly there himself. He certainly wouldn’t team up with a glorified tour guide, even if she had a wealth of knowledge at her disposal. These guys had guns and helicopters, and flew around the world looking for exotic treasures. The last thing they needed was someone like her getting in the way.

  Unless, of course, she forced their hand.

  In her spare time, Heidi loved playing cards. Her favourite game was Texas Hold ’Em, a variation of poker that was quite popular on television. The game consists of two cards being dealt face down to each player before five community cards are placed on the table. As the community cards are revealed, players place bets on the outcome of the hand. By betting aggressively, players can trick their opponents into folding superior hands. By betting meekly, players with great cards can lure their opponents’ money into the pot. The key, as far as Heidi was concerned, was the art of bluffing. When done correctly, it was tough to defeat.

 
; And lucky for her, she was great at it.

  38

  Near the southern end of the Partnach Gorge, there was a major intersection where several hiking trails came together. Even though the paths were labelled with codes and colours, it still took a while for travellers to figure out which way they needed to go. Paths that seemed to be heading one way often ended up going another. Most of the time they went where geology dictated, whether that was along the Partnach River or up the side of a mountain. For hikers, this region was heaven. They could spend hours crisscrossing the valley, switching back and forth between easy paths and challenging trails without venturing more than an hour from the city.

  Anticipating some confusion, Payne made sure his men knew they were supposed to follow the yellow sign with the green arrow on the right. The path went towards Eckbauer, the small peak to the north-east. According to the map, the trail zigged and zagged through the woods until it reached the Eckbauerbahn station, which sat on top of the summit. Although the elevation was listed at 4,035 feet, they wouldn’t have much of a climb since they were already more than 3,000 feet above sea level. As long as the ATV kept chugging and the trailer kept rolling, Payne didn’t expect any problems for well-conditioned soldiers.

  A large group of hikers, all of them carrying rucksacks and walking sticks, clogged the intersection as the ATV approached its turn. Huber tried to seize control in German, ordering them out of the way for their medical emergency, but they stared at him as though he was speaking in a foreign language. Which, of course, he was, since the hikers were from France. Upon seeing Huber’s camouflage and 5.56mm assault rifle, a few of the Frenchmen panicked. Worried they had broken the law or had accidentally crossed the Austrian border, they threw their hands in the air and surrendered to the Germans like a scene from a World War Two movie. Before long, all of them were crowding round the ATV, trying to figure out what they had done wrong.

  Meanwhile, Collins did his best to keep moving. Lange rotated to the front of the pack and tried to clear enough space for the ATV and trailer to make the turn towards Eckbauer, but Lange’s presence only added to the turmoil. Now there were two Germans with assault rifles yelling at the French, which made them twice as eager to surrender. Eventually, Collins had no choice. He had to stop the ATV, or he was going to run over one of the hikers.

  Payne heard the commotion from his position in the rear and came forward to investigate. It didn’t take long to figure out there was a language barrier. Kaiser’s men were speaking German, and the hikers were speaking French. Neither group could understand the other. From his military experience, Payne knew English was the lingua franca – the bridge language for people who spoke different languages – for international business, science, technology, aviation and diplomacy, so he decided to take charge of the situation.

  Placing two fingers in his mouth, Payne unleashed a whistle so loud and authoritative that everyone shut up, including three Japanese hikers who were approaching the intersection from the opposite direction. Before he said a single word, Payne had everyone’s undivided attention.

  ‘Do any of you speak English?’ he said calmly.

  A middle-aged Frenchman, wearing a brightly coloured bandana over his long, grey hair, appointed himself spokesperson. ‘I speak English. Are we in trouble?’

  Payne shook his head. ‘Not yet, but you will be unless you get off the path. We have a medical emergency, and we’re trying to get into town.’

  ‘What kind of emergency?’ said a voice from the back. A few seconds later, an older gentlemen was pushing his way past his friends. ‘I’m a surgeon. Maybe I can help?’

  Payne cursed under his breath. This was the last thing he needed. ‘Thanks, Doc, but no thanks. The patient is stable, and there’s a chopper waiting for us in town. If you and your friends could just—’

  ‘Is he conscious?’ the surgeon demanded.

  Payne stared at him, coldly. ‘Not at the moment.’

  ‘Then how do you know he’s stable?’

  Payne quickly considered his options. He could stand there and argue with the doctor about Kaiser’s health, or he could let the guy do his job as they continued towards the Eckbauerbahn. Ultimately, it was a no-brainer since Kaiser’s survival was his number-one priority, and their cover story about a training accident would explain all the injuries the doctor would discover. ‘Fine! You can hop in the back, but you have to examine him while we’re moving. We need to get to the chopper as soon as possible.’

  The surgeon nodded and hustled towards the trailer as the Frenchman with the bandana explained what was happening to the non-English speakers in his group. Thrilled that they weren’t being arrested, they started gathering their things and moving out of the way of the ATV when the first shot rang out from the woods. Fired from Krueger’s gun, the bullet hit Collins just above his ear with so much force it penetrated his skull and ploughed into his temporal lobe. A moment later, he fell out of the ATV and slumped to the ground, dead.

  Thanks to their training, Payne and Jones reacted a full second before anyone else. Payne fired his gun towards the sound of Krueger’s blast, hoping to hit the gunman with a lucky shot, while Jones sprinted forward and jumped onto the driver’s seat. Wasting no time, Jones cranked the accelerator on the ATV. With a cloud of dirt and stone, the vehicle rocketed forward into two unlucky Frenchmen, who got bowled over like drunken matadors. Thrown off balance by the abrupt movement of the trailer, the surgeon fell on top of Kaiser but managed to hold on to one of the straps or else he would have been trampled by his countrymen, who scattered at the intersection. One moment they were thankful for their freedom; the next they were shitting their pants and running for their lives.

  Armed with assault rifles, Huber and Lange filled the woods with suppressive fire. The goal was to make the enemy scramble for cover while Jones escaped with the ATV. Their plan worked for nearly ten seconds until Krueger’s goons started firing from their hiding spot on the other side of the intersection. In a cruel twist of fate, one of them used the assault rifle they had taken from Schneider shortly after his throat had been slashed. Still stained with his blood, the Heckler & Koch G36 unleashed a hailstorm of automatic fire towards Schneider’s friends. One shot caught Lange in the throat and another grazed his hip, while Huber remained unscathed. Risking his life, Huber grabbed Lange by the back of his shirt and pulled him into the nearby bushes as more shots whizzed overhead. Huber worked on him feverishly, trying to stop the geyser in Lange’s neck, but it was all for nothing. He died a short time later.

  Realizing no one was guarding Kaiser except Jones, Huber darted through the trees and bushes until he found a narrow gap that allowed him to slip back onto the path towards Eckbauer. The ATV and trailer were still in sight, and the gun fire was now behind him. As far as he was concerned, he had made the right choice – even if that meant running from a fight.

  With Collins and Lange dead, Jones driving and Huber gone, Payne and Richter were left to deal with Krueger and his two goons. Based on shot patterns and geography, Payne figured out how many men they were facing and where they were located. Payne relayed this information to Richter, who was crouching behind a boulder about fifteen feet away, by using military hand signals. Despite the look of confusion that still plagued Richter’s face, he nodded his head in understanding. Payne hoped that was the case, but since he was dealing with a man who had been barking at him less than ten minutes before, he wasn’t overly confident.

  Still, he reasoned, two guns were better than one.

  Guns. The word triggered a thought in Payne’s mind.

  Until that moment, he had been using a Sig Sauer P228 to defend himself. It was the weapon of choice of many military agencies in the United States, but it had the stopping power of a slingshot when compared to the G36 assault rifle that Richter and one of Krueger’s goons were firing. If he had a weapon like that in his hands, he could do some serious damage. Instead of hiding in the trees and playing charades, he could go on the offensiv
e and end this bullshit once and for all, which was what MANIACs were trained to do.

  But first, Payne had to acquire a rifle.

  39

  Jones stopped the ATV about 150 yards from the intersection, just past a thicket of trees that would temporarily shield the trailer. Glancing back, he saw the surgeon clinging to the cords that secured the crates in place, his fingers pale from clenching so tight.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Jones asked as he hustled towards him.

  The surgeon nodded and sat upright. ‘What was that?’

  ‘That was an ambush. Obviously someone was trying to kill you.’

  ‘Me? Why would anyone want to kill me?’

  ‘I don’t know. What did you do?’

  The surgeon blinked a few times and tried to come up with an answer, which Jones found comical despite the situation. Normally, Jones would have messed with him even further, but he realized time was too valuable to waste.

  ‘It’s not important,’ Jones assured him. ‘What is important is your patient. The reason I saved your life was so you could save his. Don’t worry. You can thank me later. For now, you need to focus on him and nothing else. Okay?’

  The surgeon nodded, then turned his attention to Kaiser.

  With a gun in his hand and an eye on the path, Jones pulled out his radio as the sound of automatic fire continued to roar in the distance. Although he felt guilty about abandoning Payne at the intersection, he knew he had made the right decision. He had rescued Kaiser and had protected the cargo by driving the ATV out of harm’s way. In the heat of battle, he had kept his composure and had done what he needed to do. It was a skill he had learned with Payne. During their time in the MANIACs, they had been taught to improvise behind enemy lines since their missions rarely went as planned. Sometimes that meant using salami to slide down a rope, other times it meant taking over the duties of a fallen colleague. Ultimately, as long as they completed their missions, the Pentagon rarely questioned their methods or asked who did what. They only cared about success.

 

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