The Power (75 page)

'We're going to have to hurry to do that,' Ives
observed. To reach Switzerland tonight.'

'It's just a matter of organization,' Tweed commented as he continued to drive the Espace close to the station
wagon.

The rendezvous point where they had picked up Barton
Ives had been well chosen. An oasis of quiet, there had
been no one else about. Now, only minutes later, they
were caught up in Colmar's rush-hour traffic. The convoy had closed up and Gaunt's BMW was on Tweed's tail, a
little too close for his liking, but that was Gaunt.

'How shall we manage it?' Paula called out.

'I'll go out the way we came in. By train to Basle. I
want you to come with me, and you too, Eve. Philip,' he called over his shoulder to Cardon, 'you'll also be with us as bodyguard, together with Butler and Nield. Ives, you come with us aboard the train.'

Tweed had no intention of letting the elusive American
out of his sight after waiting so long to contact him.

'Anything you say,' Ives agreed cheerfully.

'What about the Espace, the station wagon and the
weapons?' asked Paula, her mind racing ahead to the next problem.

'I'm changing tactics from the way we came in,' Tweed
said with a surge of vigour in his voice which made Paula
feel tired. He glanced briefly back at her at a red traffic light and his eyes gleamed with purpose and drive. This,
Paula thought, is where we really take off.

They were nosing their way closer to the Bristol as
Tweed explained further.

'I'm assuming our friend, the Swiss police chief, Beck,
will be on the alert at the frontier. The French frontier
control will still be on the look-out for terrorists
entering
France - not the other way round. If Newman and Marler meet trouble Bob will immediately ask to be put in contact with Beck.'

'What about the Uzi Bob is carrying?' Paula pressed.

'All the weapons will be hidden, attached under the
chassis of the station wagon and the Espace - including
the Uzi. That is the sort of trouble Newman may run into.
We shall need those weapons for a final showdown, I'm convinced of that.'

'And we stay in Basle overnight?' Paula asked.

'No! We keep on moving. We arrange to meet Newman
and Marler with their transport at Basle Bahnhof. From
there we drive on non-stop south-west into French-
speaking Switzerland. From Basle to Neuchatel, on past
the lake to Yverdon, then due south to Ouchy on the
shores of Lake Geneva. Amberg, you did say that is
where you have hidden the items I want to see and hear?'

'I did,' the banker replied tersely. 'But we have to stop
at my branch in Basle for a few minutes - so I can collect a
safe deposit key.'

'Make sure it is only a few minutes. Two of my men will
accompany you into the bank. Paula, when we reach the main station in Basle phone up two hotels in Ouchy - the
H
ô
tel d'Angleterre to book rooms for Butler and Nield,
then the Hotel Château d'Ouchy to book rooms for the
rest of us, including Amberg.'

'I prefer to stay at—' Amberg began.

'Your preferences went out of the window when we
watched a blank screen at the Château Noir,' Tweed
snapped. 'You stay with us - all the way.'

'So,' Paula mused, 'we'll be ahead of the opposition for
once, may never see them again.'

'That,' commented Eve, stretching her arms above her
head,'will be a dream.'

'And if you believe that,' Tweed warned, 'considering
the huge organization we're up against, you are
dreaming...'

On the heights of the Vosges Norton, just managing to
stop himself from freezing into a block of ice by keeping
the engine running, the heaters turned full up, had earlier
received a static-ridden report on progress from
Mencken.

Progress! Norton would probably have strangled Men
cken had his subordinate been close enough. Bleakly and
bluntly Mencken had told his chief about the failure of the
major ambush planned on D417.

'You say the Nestlé truck was crushed, sent over when the cliff came down?' Norton asked incredulously.

'It was lousy luck
...'
Mencken began, glad that he was
miles away from Norton and close to Munster.

'Luck?
Crap!
' Norton shouted. 'Don't give me no
smoke. What happened to Phase Two?'

'The huge log pile we were going to roll down on them
was frozen solid. So was the earth-moving machine we'd
planned to use
...'

'And Tweed's convoy is where now?' Norton rarely lost
his iron self-control and now had a tight grip on himself as
he planned the next move. 'Also where are the cars
Yellow, Orange and Brown - the vital reserve? I am
assuming you know,' he added sarcastically.

'Cars Orange and Brown got frozen up. I had to call
back Yellow to jump-start them. It all took time. I sent
the three of them back down route N415 and through
Kaysersberg. I hoped to intercept Tweed, but my guess is
they were too late. They couldn't go back down the other route - we'd have been caught by the cliff fall.'

'We were,' Norton reminded him. 'Stay where you are
until I contact you again. I've got a job to do - since I
want it done OK, I'm handling it myself. Keep the reserve
in Colmar until I get back to you
...'

Norton, due to arrive at Lac Noir at 6 p.m. to keep the
appointment with Growly Voice, deliberately reached the
rendezvous early at 5.45p.m. Switching off his headlights,
he left the engine running to avoid freezing to death.

Night had fallen and the temperature had fallen with it
- to below zero. He lowered the window a few inches, his
right hand gripping an HP35 Browning automatic in his
lap. His headlights had illuminated a low stone wall with the black waters of the silent lake beyond it.

Very little rattled Norton's nerve but the total lack of
sound, the incredible silence and tomb-like atmosphere
was unsettling. Where the hell was Growly Voice?

There was no sign of another vehicle, of any human habitation, of any human being. Using his left hand he
switched on a powerful torch beam, used it to slowly scan
the top of the wall. It was then he saw the wooden box
perched on the parapet.

He slid out of the car fast, closing the door quickly so he wasn't illuminated by the courtesy light. For a long
minute he stood listening. The icy cold seeped through his
astrakhan coat. He approached the box slowly. About a
foot long and a foot deep, it was old and the lid was
closed. He had an unpleasant suspicion this was a booby-
trap. No, that didn't make sense. Growly Voice wanted
the big bucks.

The huge sum of money was still under guard in the
care of Louis Sheen at a room inside the Hotel Bristol. Earlier Norton had been amused at the thought of Sheen
staying tied with handcuffs to the suitcase. The only time he released himself from his burden was when he went to
the bathroom or took a shower. Even then he took the
suitcase with him.

Norton studied the old box. He was still suspicious. No sign of wires in the torch-light beam. Using the tip of his
Browning, he gently lifted the lid until he could see
inside. It appeared to be empty. Sucking in a deep breath of icy air, he raised the lid wide open, stared, swore in Marine Corps language.

A sheet of paper was lying at the bottom. Words had
been crudely written on it by someone using a felt-tip pen.
The infuriating message was clear enough.

Mr Norton. Welcome. If you really want the two items you are interested in bring the money. Proceed now to Ouchy,
Switzerland, Lake Geneva. A room has been reserved for
you at the Château d'Ouchy. Occupy it this evening. You will hear from me. Do not delay a minute. This time, do
bring the money. This is your last chance.

Norton hurled the box into the still black waters of the
lake. By the light of his torch beam he watched it sink. He
returned to his car, closed the door, the window, and
pulled out from the glove compartment a collection of
maps until he found one of Switzerland.

It took him a while to trace his finger along the shore of
Lake Geneva until he located Ouchy. He picked up his
mobile phone. By some miracle Mencken answered at
once and the connection was loud and clear.

'Ouchy, Switzerland ...' Norton spelt the name of the
port. 'Move the entire reserve to this goddamned hick
place tonight. Spread them out among as many little hotels
as you can find. Call me at eleven tonight but don't come
near the Chateau d'Ouchy. OK? What the hell do I care how you make it? Get on it, street bum .. .'

For the moment Norton was no longer concerned with Tweed. His mind was concentrated on getting hold of the
film and the tape - and that meant reaching Ouchy fast.
Disinclined to linger by the sinister lake - he had glanced up once and in the moonlight had seen the fateful chateau perched like a menace above him.

He drove on as fast as he dared until he reached the N415
which would take him back to Kaysersberg. There he'd
make a brief call at the Green Tree, collect his few things,
pay the bill. At a lonely spot he pulled in off the road on to
a snow-covered verge, kept the engine running.

Taking out his collection of maps, he studied them and
decided to take the autoroute to Basle. From there he'd
drive on through the night until he reached Ouchy. As he
put away the maps he decided he'd better later call in at the
Hotel Bristol to check that all his remaining team had left. A careful man with detail, Norton was a fanatic for check
ing out everything.

Marvin Mencken had taken a few decisions of his own.
After receiving orders from Norton, he used his mobile
phone to contact car Yellow and arranged to meet the men
in that car in Munster.

The leader of this team was Jason, a professional gun
man from New Jersey. With a face like a bulldog and the
determination of the animal, he was probably the most
ruthless American below the ranks of Norton and
Mencken.

Unlike Norton, Mencken was still very much concerned
with the fact that Tweed still survived. It was an insult to his
professional integrity. Reaching Munster, he parked his
car close to Yellow, got out into the bitter night and
walked to give special orders to this reserve team. Cars Orange and Brown were already on their way south to Switzerland. Mencken had warned them over his mobile phone first to collect their bags from the Bristol, to pay
their bills. In his own cunning way Mencken rivalled
Norton in attention to detail.