“Tatiana and Viktor followed Leopold and Rolfe to Mendoza but lost them somewhere in the city. They think the Guard is hiding them but have a lead on where they might be.”
“I hope they’re not out there alone.”
“The Argentine Federal Police are helping. Even so, don’t go wandering out without a gun. I wouldn’t want any surprises before they meet us here, once we finish up.”
“Let’s hope they’re successful,” she said, glancing at Dietrich, who barely touched the stew, pushing it around on his plate. He seemed uninterested in the news and, after several minutes, excused himself, saying that he was turning in early. “I’m worried about Dietrich,” she said later as she and Sam climbed into the sleeping bags in their tent.
“Give him time to process the reality of it,” Sam said, “he’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
“I hope so.”
As usual, Sam was right. By breakfast the next morning, Dietrich seemed perfectly fine, eager to get back to the plane. “No baby yet?” Dietrich asked Julio as they climbed onto the helicopter.
“Not yet. My brother’s on standby if I have to leave.”
“Swing around the back,” Sam said when they neared the crash site. “I’d like to see if there’s anywhere that tail might have ended up.”
Julio nodded. A moment later, they were circling the area at the rear of the site. “A lot of ice down there,” Julio said. “Used to be one glacier, separated over the years.”
“If that tail’s there,” Sam said, “it’s buried where we can’t see it. Take us down. Time to get a more thorough look at what’s in that plane.”
81
Julio brought the helicopter around the peak, bringing it down to their makeshift landing pad. “Don’t forget,” he told Sam. “The storm is coming in, so we’ll need to get an earlier start back.”
“What time?”
“Say, two-thirty, three at the latest.”
“See you then.”
Considering that the day had begun with a crystal clear sky, not a cloud to be seen as they climbed the hill, it was hard to believe the storm would arrive on time. Glistening droplets of water dripped from the plane’s propellers in the warmth of the sun, and the three wore sunglasses against the glare on the snow.
Once inside the plane, they spent the next several hours meticulously documenting everything they found, starting at the front and working their way back. Out of respect, they left the search of the cockpit to Dietrich. By the time he finished, Sam and Remi had worked their way to the ice wall on the right side near the missing wing.
“Find anything?” Sam asked Dietrich as he climbed down the ladder.
“I’m not sure, but it looks like the pilot was shot in the head. I don’t see any other reason for the hole in his skull.”
“It certainly explains why the plane crashed,” Sam replied.
“Have you found anything down here?”
“We’ve identified three of the men.” Two were intertwined on the floor at the front of the plane against a third man, who had no ID. The other three passengers, two men and a woman, were draped over the seats. “That man there,” he said, pointing to one of the three on the floor, “is your Great-uncle Ludwig Strassmair. I expect the woman has a purse somewhere. We just haven’t found it yet.”
Dietrich stared at what he could see of Strassmair for a few moments, then turned away. “What about the treasure? You think it’s here? You think that’s why he was on this plane?”
“So far, it’s not looking good. We only found one suitcase. Nothing but clothes.”
He nodded, looking around. “Only one?”
Sam shined the light on the rear of the plane, revealing the wall of ice where the tail used to be. “My guess is, the cargo was in the tail of the plane and that it’s located between here and wherever the tail landed. It might be close.”
“Or not,” Remi said. “Look how far that propeller was.”
“Where’s that positive thinking, Remi?”
“Back at base camp. Nando mentioned something about fresh-made empanadas for dinner.”
“Speaking of,” Sam said, looking at his watch, “we should start heading down the hill. Julio’s due anytime now.”
“So we return tomorrow?” Dietrich asked.
“If the storm blows through quickly,” he said, picking up his backpack and strapping it on, then helping Remi with hers. “If the weather report’s accurate, it’ll be the day after.”
They left the plane, heading down the mountainside. The wind gusted through the pass, the frigid air having dropped several degrees from earlier that morning. By the time they reached the rendezvous point, it was even colder. Sharp winds began to attack, quickly changing direction, and never in a repeating pattern.
The minutes ticked by. As the clouds grew thicker and darker, Remi leaned in close to Sam. “Let’s hope he gets here soon.”
“I’m sure he will,” Dietrich said.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Sam glanced up the sky, searching.
Remi, apparently, noticed his concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Hate to say it, but Julio should have been here by now. He’s way too experienced to try to get out here this late, in this weather.”
“Wouldn’t he call?” Dietrich asked.
“Assuming he could get through, it’s possible he did.” Sam took out his satellite phone and tried to call Julio. When there was no answer, he nodded at the plane. “Lucky for us, we’ve got shelter and food.”
“Protein bars,” Remi said as the three trudged through the snow back to the plane. “Hardly a consolation.”
“They’re gourmet protein bars. The label says so.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Fargo.”
“I’ll phone Nando and let him know we’re probably not making it to dinner.” They stopped at the nose of the aircraft. When he tried to make the call, nothing happened. “You two wait in the plane. I’ve got to move out farther. Something’s blocking the line of sight.” What, he wasn’t sure. Possibly the two mountain peaks they were standing between or interference from the storm.
Remi hesitated. Sam reassured her he wasn’t about to wander that far from the plane. Not in this weather.
When Dietrich took Remi’s arm, helping her up through the door, Sam worked his way down the mountain until his phone was able to pick up a satellite signal and he could successfully call Nando.
“I can barely hear you, Mr. Fargo. We were worried when it got dark and you weren’t back.”
“‘We’?”
“Julio called. His wife had the baby. He was sending his brother. I assumed he was on his way to get you. He didn’t make it there?”
“Not yet,” Sam said, shouting over the wind. “We’re taking shelter in the downed plane. Call Julio’s brother. Tell him to come back in the morning when it’s clear.”
“If it’s clear,” Nando said. “The weather report isn’t looking good. You’re sure you’ll be okay?”
“We’ll be fine.”
Sam pocketed his phone, then climbed back up to the plane, keeping his head down against the wind, which was even stronger now than it had been just a few minutes ago.
Remi watched him from the doorway, the flashlight turned on to light his way. “Did you reach anyone?”
“Nando,” he said, pulling himself into the fuselage. He and Dietrich pushed the door closed, the wind whistling through the crack. “On the good news front, Julio’s wife had the baby.”
“That explains why he’s not here. He—”
Sam held up his hand. “Hear that?”
“Thunder?” Remi asked.
“I think our ride’s here.”
They pulled open the door, the three running out toward the front of the plane. A tiny speck in the sky just over the pass was almost hidden in the s
now flurries, the sound of the rotors barely audible over the wailing wind.
With gloved hands, they shielded their eyes against the spotlights as the helicopter swept overhead. It suddenly swung back on a course directly toward them, the pilot struggling to control the craft against the ever-stronger wind.
It rose sharply for a few moments, fighting a losing battle with the gale. The rotors blasted the frigid darkness. Then, barely in the air, the nearly uncontrolled helicopter pounded the driving snow, magnifying the thunder, on the ridge and steep side of the mountain.
Suddenly, there was an unbearable roar that swept down the deeply blanketed slope that engulfed the helicopter. It became lost under a white storm of ice and vanished.
The three stared in shock as the ice-packed snow beneath their snowshoes began to pulsate, and Sam realized it wasn’t thunder at all.
“Run!” he yelled. “To the plane!”
82
Avalanche!”
Bits of snow and ice rained down on them. Remi ran without question. Dietrich froze, his attention fixed on the wall of snow slipping down the mountainside.
“Hurry!” Sam shouted. He followed Remi under the wing, Dietrich coming to his senses, following right behind them. The noise grew louder as ice chunks pelted the fuselage. Snow slid in from both sides as Sam shoved open the door.
Remi climbed in, then looked back just as a sea of white swept Dietrich from his feet. “Sam!” she yelled, pointing.
He grabbed Dietrich’s arm, pulling him up. The two men scrambled into the plane, then struggled to close the door before the snow poured in, Remi leaning into it alongside them. The fuselage creaked and groaned from the weight, the deafening roar turning into muffled silence as the level rose past the windows, shrouding them in darkness. The three stood there, leaning against the door, their breaths coming fast.
“Remi?” Sam asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Dietrich?”
When he didn’t answer right away, Remi reached for him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes . . . What—what about that pilot?”
“Hard to say,” Sam said. “But his helicopter was in one piece right before the avalanche. If he’s as experienced as Julio, he’ll find a place to ride out the storm.”
“What if something happened to him? Or the helicopter?” Dietrich asked. “How will they even know to come looking?”
“Satellite phone,” Sam said, taking it from his pocket, the screen lighting up his face as he turned it on, showing it to Dietrich, before powering it off to conserve the battery. “Not that it’ll do us much good now. At least not until we dig out.”
“And if we can’t dig out?” he asked.
“Avalanche beacon. But we’ll be okay. I’m hoping that from the angle of the mountain, most of the snow fell on the other side.”
Remi eyed the door, unable to see anything out the window. It might as well have been a starless night looking back at her. “Not looking good so far.”
“Being optimistic again, Remi?”
“Practical.”
“Wait until we dig our airhole. You’ll see. So what is it you have in that magic backpack of yours to tide us over the next couple of days?”
“Caviar and champagne,” she said, pulling out protein bars and water bottles.
Dietrich reached into his pack. “I have chocolate.”
“You,” Remi said, eyeing the shiny silver wrappers, “are my new best friend.”
“One night covered,” Sam said. “But we’ll have to ration, and hope it blows through soon. In the meantime, let’s get to work on that snow tunnel. The longer it snows, the farther we’ll have to dig out. I’d hate to run out of oxygen before then.”
He took his flashlight and climbed up into the cockpit.
Remi also climbed up, but just far enough to take a look, forcing her gaze past the shadowed frozen bodies to the snow-covered cockpit glass above. All was dark. “You think we’ll be able to dig through?” she asked softly.
He glanced over at her. “Depending on how deep it is, it’s our only chance.”
About to climb down, she saw Klaus’s boots just a few inches from her face and she paused. “What about Klaus?” she asked in a low voice, her expression one of sadness, no doubt thinking about the fear the young boy had felt as the plane was going down. “It seems almost sacrilegious to be stepping over him . . .”
This time, Dietrich overheard her, saying, “I don’t think he’d mind. He’d want us to live.”
“I agree,” Sam said, climbing down after Remi. “Let’s have another look in the fuselage and see if we can’t come up with some wood to shore up that snow tunnel.”
“Out of what?” Dietrich shined his flashlight around. “There’s not much down here.”
“That broken seat, for one,” Sam said, nodding at its back. “Maybe others are loose. Pre–World War Two construction. No doubt they used wooden frames,” he said, pressing down on the nearest seat.
Remi held the flashlight as Sam and Dietrich tore apart the leather upholstery, separating the ties and frames from several seats.
When they had enough wood, Sam climbed up into the cockpit, carrying his compact shovel and snow probe. He had two worries. The first was that he hoped his calculations on the avalanche were correct, that it had fallen mainly to the right of the plane. There was no telling how far they’d have to dig otherwise. The second and bigger worry, one he hadn’t shared, was that the current storm might create a second avalanche by adding weight to an already unstable base.
Using his shovel, he broke the glass, knocking away any shards left in the frame. Snow fell down to the floor as the two men started digging through the hole in the window. Remi propped the flashlight so that it shined into the cockpit, then started scooping the snow to the cabin below.
It was slow going, and in some places they had to hack away at the concrete-like snow, careful not to dislodge the braces they’d placed. Finally, Sam’s shovel broke through. Frigid air blew through the hole, snow swirling in from the storm raging outside.
Remi and Dietrich cheered, breathing in deep, and the three celebrated by splitting a protein bar and a chocolate for dinner, then toasting with water bottles.
After their meal, the three settled against their packs, leaning into one another to conserve warmth.
“What if they can’t find us?” Dietrich asked.
“It’ll be a long walk back,” Sam replied, “but at least we have snowshoes.”
Remi elbowed him. “He’s kidding, Dietrich. Of course they’ll find us. Right Sam?”
“Exactly,” he said, putting his arm around her, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep after seeing the force of the wind and snow blowing in, straight toward that same mountain shoulder and the source of that first avalanche. There was no doubt in his mind. If the storm kept up, a second avalanche was imminent. He only hoped it didn’t strike until after they were rescued.
83
Morning took its sweet time arriving. Remi shifted in the crook of Sam’s arm, taking a deep sigh.
“You’re awake,” Sam said.
“I’m not sure I ever slept.” She sat up, turning on her flashlight. “It’s still dark in here. I was hoping for daylight.” She looked over at Dietrich, who was seated to her left. “How about you? Any rest?”
“Not much,” Dietrich said. “It sounds like the wind is dying down somewhat.”
Not enough for Sam’s liking. The constant whistling through the tunnel they’d dug up in the cockpit had lessened a bit in the early morning hours, giving him hope that there wasn’t too much weight added to the snowpack on that right shoulder. But it had started up again at daybreak and didn’t show any sign of lessening.
“Maybe we should try to call,” Dietrich said, standing, clearly anxious. “I’ll go. I don’t mind a little cold. Maybe I co
uld climb out far enough to get a signal.”
“It’s not the cold,” Sam said, realizing he had no choice but to be up front. “That wind was blowing snow straight into that peak all night. As long as there’s a risk of avalanche, we’re better off staying right where we are.”
“So we just wait?” Dietrich asked.
“Not much choice. No sense getting out before our rescuers can start searching. Looks like we’ll be here for a while. I don’t suppose anyone brought cards?”
“Poor planning on our part,” Remi said.
A long stretch of silence followed, broken only by the wind whistling through the tunnel up in the cockpit. Even though the storm showed no sign of letting up, the tunnel they’d dug remained clear, and they took turns checking on it, making sure their braces were holding under the weight of the new snow.
Sam went up to check one last time before they settled in for that night’s ration of protein bars. So far, so good, he thought, able to see a few stars in the black sky. The wind was still fierce, but he hoped it would soon die down.
“How is it?” Remi asked as he joined them back in the hold.
“Snow’s stopped.”
“That’s good, then, right?” Dietrich said as the wind gusted through the barrier.
“Let’s hope so.”
Remi glanced at Sam, saying nothing. Her expression told him that she knew the bigger danger with all that new snowfall was the wind blowing it against the mountainside. He still held out hope, but as they sat there eating, they heard a low rumble and felt a vibration that seemed to penetrate them, followed by a swoosh of air coming from the cockpit as the avalanche covered them.
Sam grabbed his flashlight and shovel, rushed up the ladder, removing the barricade they’d erected to keep out the cold and snow.
The Romanov Ransom Page 30
