“That’ll do,” said Tom, panting. “You should be able to fit through there.”
“You mean you should be able to fit through there,” Archie said, smiling.
“Here, I’ll give you a leg up.” He clasped his hands together to form a cradle, and Tom
380 james twining
stepped onto it and pulled himself through the gap. Crouching in the doorway, he reached for his flashlight but realized that it was very nearly redundant. The lights outside were being funneled through the bullet holes to form hundreds of narrow splinters of light, all of different heights and angles, crisscrossing the interior of the wagon like swords thrust through the sides of a wooden box. It was strangely beautiful.
“You all right?” Archie called.
“Yeah.” Tom looked back over his shoulder and gave him a nod. He turned back and this time switched the flashlight on, running it over the ceiling and the walls. Nothing.
He stood up and took a couple of steps, then stepped on something hard that snapped under his feet. He flicked the light down to see what he had trodden on. Recoiling, he saw that it was a leg bone. A human leg bone.
“Archie, you’d better get up here,” Tom called out.
“Why, what’s up?” Archie jumped up to the open door, his legs dangling free and his shoulders only just inside the car. Tom hauled him inside.
“Look . . .”
Tom let his flashlight play across the floor. There must have been, he estimated, about thirty bodies there, all lying across each other, awkward and sunken, as if they were slowly being sucked into the floor. Only their skeletons were left, the bones, where they emerged from frayed sleeves and trouser legs or peered out from under rotting caps, glowing white.
“Who were they?” Archie breathed. “POWs? Civilians?”
“I don’t think so . . .” Tom stepped forward, picking his way carefully through the twisted remains and picked up a cap that had rolled free. He pointed at its badge, a swastika, each of its arms ending in an arrow point. “The Arrow Cross—it was worn by Nazi troops from Hungary.”
“Which is where Lasche said the Gold Train originally set out from.”
“Yeah,” said Tom. “From what I remember, he said it was guarded by Hungarian troops.
This
must
be
what’s
left
of
them.”
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A quick search revealed nothing apart from the bodies they could already see. Nothing, that is, except, frozen in the beam of Tom’s light, a single name scratched on one wall, close to the floor. Josef Kohl. Someone who, Tom surmised, had survived the slaughter only to die of starvation, surrounded by the rank stench of his decaying comrades. The discovery silenced them both.
“How do you suppose this played out?” Archie asked eventually.
Tom shrugged. “We know that the train was on its way to Switzerland. When the bridge at Brixlegg was bombed, it must have turned back and hid in a tunnel in the hope that the bridge would be repaired. That’s where the Americans found it. Clearly, somewhere between Brixlegg and the tunnel, a decision was taken to uncouple these two carriages and haul them up here with the help of some of the Hungarian guards. Once they’d got it in here, the guards were disarmed, locked inside the carriage, and executed. Finally the tracks leading up here were lifted and the mine entrance was collapsed to ensure that the secret was kept safe.”
“So whatever they were protecting must be in the other carriage?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Tom said with a tight smile. But as they turned, the door rolled shut and they heard the unmistakable rasp of the metal
pin
being
slid
back
into
the
hasp.
CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
5:20 p.m.
What do you think we should do?” Dominique threw a questioning glance at Viktor who, grim-faced, was studying the armed men as they checked each other to make sure the suits were correctly fitted.
“Get down there and tell them.”
“We’ll never make it in time,” Dominique pointed out. “We haven’t got the map, and I’ve no idea where the entrance is. By the time we find it, it’ll be too late.”
Viktor was silent as she tried to think of a way of getting word to Tom. How could they warn him, not only that he was about to have company, but that the newcomers’ expec-tation of what lay at the bottom of this mine was clearly very different from anything they had envisaged. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp tug on her arm.
“Someone’s coming,” Dominique hissed.
One of the machine operators had detached himself from the crew and was hurrying in their direction. Viktor ducked down out of sight, but the steady crunch of the snow indicated that the man was still approaching. In fact, he seemed to be heading straight for them.
Pressing
herself
into
the
face
of
the
slope,
her
right
leg
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wedged in the cleft of a low branch, Viktor swung her AK–47 out from behind her back and gently cocked it.
Still the footsteps came. She readied herself to fire, determined to take out whoever had seen them rather than let him raise the alarm.
The footsteps stopped just above her head. Barely daring to breathe, she looked up and could just about make out the man’s shape. Standing on the edge of the path, legs slightly parted, he loomed above them like some huge colossus, his face framed against the clear evening sky. Looking back nervously over his shoulder, the man reached down. A pale gold stream of urine sliced through the darkness and arced gracefully over their heads, melting a jagged yellow zigzag in the snow below, the ground hissing and steaming. Viktor looked up at Dominique with a grin and saw her stifle a laugh. But then a thought occurred to her. A way of getting word to Tom and Archie. The only problem was, it would require her to act fast.
To
act
now.
CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
5:26 p.m.
Tom pressed his face against the wall and peered through one of the bullet holes.
“Renwick,” he whispered when he saw the figure standing in the middle of the chamber, a triumphant smile carved across his face. Next to him was Johann Hecht. Five other thuggish-looking men, presumably other members of Kristall Blade, were making their way across the chamber to join them.
“How did they get past Viktor’s men?” Archie said in a choked voice, selecting another bullet hole and looking for himself. “I thought they were meant to be guarding the entrance?”
“They were,” Tom said grimly, recognizing the two bloody and lifeless bodies lying in a crumpled heap at Ren-wick’s feet.
“As soon as I heard that you were coming through the forest, I knew you would not be able to resist going into the mine, Thomas,” Renwick bellowed. “It was very kind of you to climb inside one of the carriages, though. It certainly made the job of rounding you up a lot easier.”
“Save it, Harry,” Tom shouted. “The gloating doesn’t suit you.”
“Surely you would not deny me my small moment of
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triumph?” Tom didn’t answer, but then Renwick didn’t seem to be expecting a reply. “In any case, I have to applaud you, Thomas, for finding this place so quickly.” Renwick raised his eyebrows in what Tom took to be some form of grudging admiration. “Johann, however, is rather irked by your persistence.” Standing next to him, Hecht menacingly fingered the trigger of his Heckler & Koch MP5, his jaw sliding gently from side to side as he chewed a piece of gum.
“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed him,” Tom said in mock contrition, turning his attention as he spoke to examining the inside of the car again in the ho
pe of identifying an escape route.
“Getting out of the vault was one thing,” Renwick continued. “Escaping the museum—
well, if anyone could have achieved that, it had to be you. But decoding a painting you did not even have? That was impressive. Especially when I had gone to the trouble of making sure there was no chance of Turnbull giving anything away.”
“When did you get here?” Tom asked, trying to buy time as he tested the strength of the walls and the floorboards, trying to detect any that were loose.
“Late last night. It has taken us quite some time to dig out the entrance. As a matter of fact, we had been inside only a few minutes when you appeared. By the way, Thomas, if you are thinking of trying to get out of there, you are wasting your time,” Renwick boomed. “Those carriages are quite secure. The Nazis had them reinforced to the highest specifications in order to ensure the security of their most precious cargo.”
“Like a platoon of murdered Hungarian soldiers?” Tom called back, giving up on his search with an angry shrug.
“Like whatever is in the second carriage. In fact, we were just about to open it when we got word you were on your way. Now you can have ringside seats for the grand unveiling— the first glimpse of the Amber Room in over fifty years!”
Two men armed with bolt cutters advanced toward the rusting padlock that secured the door. A few moments later, there was the sound of a door being rolled back.
“I
can’t
see
anything,”
Archie
whispered.
“Can
you?”
386 james twining
Tom shook his head. His field of vision was restricted, the bullet holes allowing him only to see to the front and rear of the car. The side where the door was located was hidden from view. But then the two men emerged, stumbling under the weight of a large crate, which they half placed, half dropped on the floor.
“Careful, you idiots,” Tom heard Renwick shout.
Soon, five or six crates had been carried out to the center of the room.
“How the hell do you expect to get them out of here?” Tom called. “You know who’s digging out the main entrance, don’t you? They can’t be far off now.”
“No more than a few feet, I would say. Would you not agree, Johann?” Renwick turned toward Hecht, who gave a curt nod. “As to who they are, I can only assume—as I am sure you have—that it is some last remnant of the Order. Who else could have located this site without the aid of the code on the portrait? They have been at it for quite a few days now, but then, they had a hundred and fifty feet of solid rock to get through. Our entrance, thankfully, was a somewhat easier one to excavate.”
“They’ve been protecting this place for fifty years,” yelled Tom. “You think they’re just going to let you walk away?”
“I doubt they will have much choice.” Renwick smiled. “You see, among his many talents, Johann is an expert in explosives. He has mined both tunnels. One of his men has replaced the unfortunate chap you left near the entrance, and he will alert us the instant they break through. As soon as they do, we will let them into the tunnel a little way and then set off the charges.”
“You’ll kill them all,” Tom exclaimed.
“That is the general idea, yes.”
A sudden roar echoed up the larger tunnel, then the sound of an engine changing gear. Renwick flicked his head toward where the noise had come from, his smile vanishing.
“They’re inside,” Hecht shouted. “They’re inside.”
“How can they be?” Renwick seemed shaken. “We have received no word.” He grabbed
his
radio.
“This
is
Renwick,
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come in,” he barked. “Are you there? We heard an engine, it sounds as if it is inside the mine. Come in, damn you!”
He spun to face Hecht, his eyes wide, agitation turning to alarm. “Your sentry must be dead. Set off the charges.”
“But we don’t know how far into the mine they’ve come.”
“It does not matter. Either we will kill them or block their way. One is as good as the other. We cannot afford to take risks. Not now we are so close.”
Hecht gave a nod and picked up a small black box, about the size of a cigarette packet, with four red buttons set into it. Gripping the end of the silver aerial between his teeth, he tugged until it was fully extended, then turned to face the tunnel. The noise was growing ever louder, and in the distance two faint yellow specks glowed like cat’s eyes. Eyes that seemed to be growing.
“Do it, Johann,” Renwick urged, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Now.”
Hecht depressed the top button.
Nothing happened.
“What the devil is going on?” Renwick spluttered. “Do it now or it will be too late.”
“I’m sorry, Cassius,” Hecht said, exchanging the remote detonator for a gun that he leveled squarely at Renwick’s chest. “For you, it already is too late.”
“What’s going on?” Archie whispered.
“Renwick’s being turned over,” Tom said excitedly. “Hecht’s betrayed him.”
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
5:46 p.m.
The bulldozer juddered to a halt at the entrance to the chamber, its headlights forcing everyone except Tom and Archie, who could barely see it, to hold their hands in front of their faces, shielding their eyes from the glare. Abruptly, first the engine, then the lights were killed.
Ten heavily armed men emerged from behind the bulldozer, like infantrymen following a tank. To Tom’s surprise, they were all wearing white chemical-warfare suits. They looked strangely robotic as they fanned out through the chamber, their faces masked and inscrutable.
Two of them approached Renwick and frisked him. Hecht, meanwhile, jerked his head in the direction of the car that Tom and Archie were in. Immediately, two of the armed men ran to the door and opened it, indicating with a wave of their guns that Tom and Archie should jump down. Once outside, they were frisked at gunpoint, then shoved toward Renwick, who stood silently glaring at Hecht, his eyes brimming with rage. One of the men in white now made his way to the middle of the chamber. He was carrying a briefcase, which he placed flat on the ground. Flicking the catches open, he re the black sun 389
moved what looked like a large microphone and held it in the air above his head while consulting the screen of a small computer inside the case.
Moments later, he called out in German and, with a relieved sigh, the men pulled off their hoods and discarded their respirators.
One man, however, remained hooded, his face still concealed by a mask. Unarmed, he walked slowly up to Hecht. Suddenly, the two men threw their arms around each other and embraced warmly, patting each other on the back. Tom could just about make out the hooded man’s muffled words and Hecht’s reply.
“Well done, Colonel.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The two men broke off and saluted each other smartly.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Archie exploded. “Who are you people?”
The masked man turned to them and pulled back his hood before sliding his mask off his face.
Tom spoke first, his voice strangled and disbelieving. “Völz?”
“Who?” Renwick spoke for the first time, his eyes flicking from Hecht to Völz’s stout frame.
“He runs the private bank in Zurich where Weissman and Lammers had hidden the map,” Tom explained.
Völz ignored Tom, however, and approached Renwick.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Herr Renwick—or do you prefer Cassius? Colonel Hecht here has spoken very highly of your efforts over the past few months.”
“Is this some sort of joke?” Renwick hissed through clenched teeth. Tom couldn’t help but give a rueful smile. Despite their desperate situation, surrounded by armed men in an abandoned mine deep under an A
ustrian mountain, it was good to see Renwick finally on the receiving end of the sort of duplicity that he so regularly served up to others.
“No joke, Cassius,” said Völz.
“Then
what
is
the
meaning
of
this?”
390 james twining
“You don’t recognize my voice?”
There was a pause, then Renwick’s eyes narrowed. “Dmitri?”
“As I said, it’s a pleasure to meet you finally.”
“What is this circus?” Renwick snapped. “We had a deal. We agreed, no tricks.”
“We agreed to lots of things,” Völz replied, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But that was when you thought you had something to bargain with. The situation has, I’m sure you’ll agree, changed somewhat.”
“Why are you dressed up in that gear?” Tom interrupted their exchange. “What exactly were you expecting to find down here?”
“At last, an intelligent question,” Völz said with a clap. “And one that you can help me answer. Would you be so kind as to open that crate.” He pointed at one of the crates Hecht’s men had unloaded earlier.
“What?” Tom’s voice was uncertain.
“You heard me. Open the crate,” Völz insisted, grabbing a crowbar off one of his men and tossing it to Tom. “Open it now.”
Tom approached the crate indicated by Völz. Like all the others, it had some sort of identification code and a swastika stamped on one side. He slipped the crowbar under the lid and levered it up. It rose a few inches, the nails shrieking as they were pulled free. Tom repeated the procedure on the other side, and the lid came off and flopped to the floor.
The crate was packed with straw, which Tom removed in big handfuls until he was finally able to make out a dark shape. He reached in. It felt soft and silky. He pulled it out.
“A fur coat?” Archie said disbelievingly as Tom held it up. “Is that it?”
He leaped to Tom’s side and leaned into the crate, pulling out first one coat, then another and another, flinging them over his shoulder.
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