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As Harvath wrapped up his presentation, he hoped like hell that Timothy Rayburn was still all about the money.

As they drove toward Le Râleur, Harvath and Alcott filled Claudia and Schroeder in on everything that had happened to them. The tale took almost the entire drive, and had Claudia not known Harvath and been through as much with him as she had, she would have been hard-pressed to believe him. It wasn’t until they were less than two kilometers away from the village that Harvath began to outline his immediate plan. In the end, there was no telling if Rayburn would take the bait, but if nothing else, at least Schroeder would get a good look at the security that was in place at the base of the funicular.

They all agreed that Claudia should be the one to make the drop. She was a native French speaker, and though Rayburn would be extremely apprehensive about what she was going to ask him to do, she was the most believable person they could send.

Parking the car on the outskirts of the village, Harvath pulled one of the wrist cuffs from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. Claudia stared at it, awed by the history and the terror that it represented. As if the golden cuff might somehow have the power to harm her, she affixed it to her wrist with great care.

“You know what to do when you get to the base of the funicular, right?” asked Harvath.

Claudia nodded her head. “I give the police the message, then remove the cuff, put it in the bag along with the note, and hand it to them.”

“And if anything goes wrong? How do you let us know you’re in trouble?”

“I switch my purse from my left shoulder to my right.”

“Good,” said Harvath. “Where is everyone going to be positioned?”

“Jillian and Horst will be on the terrace of the La Bergère café directly opposite. And you. “She paused. “I actually don’t know where you’ll be.”

“I’ll be close, very close. Don’t worry.”

With both Harvath and Horst to watch out for her, Claudia wasn’t worried at all, at least not for her own safety. What she was worried about was whether or not the plan was possible to pull off. Harvath had been right to invoke the memory of Otto Skorzeny, because in every one of his greatest missions his superiors had seriously doubted the man had even the slightest chance for success.

Claudia studied her watch, and after the final few minutes had ticked away, she emerged from between two buildings at the far end of the square and headed straight toward the funicular. She took her time, strolling casually, letting the four policemen who were leaning against their squad cars get a good long look at her as she approached.

Harvath watched from beneath the overhang of a nearby building and couldn’t help but notice how the men had stopping talking among themselves and how their eyes were glued to Claudia. She really was incredible. Not only was she extremely gorgeous, she was smart and could hold her own without help from anybody else. Harvath was about to berate himself again for having lost her when he saw her flip her hair over her shoulder, turn on her megawattage smile, and cover the last several yards to where the police were standing. It was show time.

Though Jillian easily could have delivered the bracelet, Claudia understood why Harvath had wanted her to do it. Alcott wasn’t an operator, and though according to Harvath’s account of their time together she had more than proven herself, they needed to be as cautious as possible baiting their trap. Rayburn was already going to be extremely apprehensive, but if he smelled anything, especially Harvath coming, he’d bolt and they’d lose their chance.

Claudia kept the smile coming as she approached the officers at the base of the funicular. After she flirted with them for several moments, Harvath watched her finger the bracelet and then remove from her purse the note he had dictated in the car. She then slid the bracelet off, placed it in a small bag along with the note, and handed it to one of the policemen. After a little more flirting, she turned, walked back across the square, and disappeared.

Fifteen minutes later, they all met back at the car and headed back to Sion.

“How did it go?” asked Jillian.

“Perfectly,” replied Claudia. “They reacted just the way Scot said they would.”

Harvath adjusted the rearview mirror so he could see her better as he drove. “Tell me everything that happened.”

“When they saw me coming, I think they thought I was a tourist interested in the Aga Khan. I had the feeling they get that a lot. But when I mentioned Tim Rayburn, everything changed.”

“How so?”

“They knew exactly who I was talking about. That was for sure. But when I asked them if they could give something to him, they told me they weren’t allowed to receive packages for the Aga Khan or anyone on his staff. That’s when I pulled the note and the paper sack from my purse. One of the policemen made a joke about why a nice girl like me would want anything to do with a man like Tim Rayburn. That was the man I focused in on.

“Knowing that the Aga Khan spends a lot of time in Geneva, I told him that I had met Rayburn there and that he had told me if I was ever in Le Râleur, that I should look him up. I slid off the bracelet, dropped it in the bag, and told the officer that if my note didn’t jog his memory the bracelet surely would.”

“And were they convinced?”

“They seemed to be, “Claudia replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the minute I left, they were ringing him up at Aiglemont.”

“She’s good, eh, Horst?” said Harvath.

Schroeder didn’t seem very happy with his fiancée playing the role of the sexy single woman back for a little more action with Tim Rayburn, even if it was for the good of the mission. In response, the commando simply nodded his head and looked out the window into the night sky.

“So we’ve got about three hours until the rendezvous,” continued Harvath, “but I can guarantee you that Rayburn and some of his men will arrive early to try and position themselves with the advantage.”

“In the note you told him to come alone,” said Claudia. “How can you be so sure he’ll bring reinforcements?”

“Because it’s exactly what I would do.”

Though it cost Harvath several hundred dollars to convince the manager of Sion’s hottest nightspot, the Baroque Café at 24 avenue de France, to go along with his request, it was money well spent. The only thing the manager was going to remember from this night was an American with the largest bankroll he had ever seen in his life. The careers of Claudia, Horst Schroeder, and his commandos would remain totally unaffected. At a few hundred bucks, Harvath figured he was getting off cheap. Though the club claimed to have been created in the grand tradition of hot French brasseries such as la Coupole, les Grandes Capucines, le Chien Qui Fume, le Train Bleu, and Chez Flo, its manager had a lot to learn about holding out for more money.

Forty-five minutes before the scheduled rendezvous time, the first of Rayburn’s men walked into the bar area of the Baroque Café and took one of the high cocktail tables. The man couldn’t have been more obvious, and Schroeder’s men, who were posing as bouncers, had no trouble spotting him. The next of Rayburn’s men to arrive was much harder to ID. He fit in almost perfectly. If it hadn’t been for the fact that one of Schroeder’s bouncers had seen him hanging around outside, waiting for a group he could befriend and blend in with, they would have easily missed him.

When the disgraced Secret Service agent did finally show up, he was accompanied by two more men who weren’t trying to hide why they were there or whom they were with. With a quick glance over the café, Rayburn found what he was looking for and ignored the hostess as she asked him if he had a reservation. He had plenty of reservations, but spotting the gorgeous woman with the unopened bottle of Dom Perignon on her table and the golden cuff on her wrist-a perfect twin for the one locked in his safe back at Château Aiglemont-was at least for now enough to convince him to go forward.

“Had that been a bottle of Cristal on the table,” said Rayburn as he walked up to Mueller, “I would have turned and walked out of here. It’s a pleasure to encounter a woman with such class.”

Claudia smiled and motioned for Rayburn to sit in the empty chair in front of her. “I’m sorry we don’t have more room, but as you know, I requested that you come alone.”

Taking another look at Claudia, Rayburn waved his security detail away and replied, “You seem like a smart woman to me. Surely, you didn’t expect me to come to a meeting like this without bringing some colleagues.”

“To tell you the truth, Mr. Rayburn, I don’t know what I expected. I haven’t exactly done this kind of thing before.”

“Really?” he replied as he pulled the bottle of Dom from the ice bucket and began peeling the foil away from the cage. “You certainly had me fooled.”

“I did what I thought was necessary to get you to a meeting,” said Claudia.

Harvath, who had made sure that there would be no available tables anywhere near where Claudia was sitting, now watched as Rayburn’s men joined their colleagues at the only spot where they could keep an eye on their boss-the bar at the very front of the café. Convinced that the woman wasn’t a real threat, they ordered a round of drinks and were soon paying more attention to the fashionable crowd of diners that packed the trendy café. What did it matter anyway? He hadn’t told them why he wanted them to come out with him, only that he needed them to watch his back-that was it. No further explanation. As far as they were now concerned, the only problem their boss was going to have tonight was how to get the stunning woman sitting across from him into bed.

“And how exactly did you know where to find me?” he continued.

Harvath had anticipated this question and had prepped the Swiss prosecutor with the best response possible-the truth. “The e-mail you gave to Marie Lavoine. I used it to track you down.”

“That’s impossible. “Rayburn smiled. “None of my personal information is connected to that account.”

“No, but you do use a Visa debit card to pay for it, and that card draws funds from a bank on Malta.”

Rayburn was no longer smiling. “That still doesn’t explain how you ended up leaving a CARE package for me at the base of that funicular.”

“You cover your tracks very well,” she said, flattering him. “You only made one mistake.”

“Which was?”

“You used the credit card in Le Râleur. Once I knew that, I hired a detective in Geneva and he did the rest.”

Rayburn was not crazy that the woman had gotten a detective involved, but he could easily take care of him later if he needed to. For the moment, though, he was impressed. “It sounds like you spent some money to find me. I hope I’m worth it.”

“We’ll see about that,” responded Claudia.

“So why don’t you tell me how you came upon those lovely bracelets.”

“My father was part of Donald Ellyson’s team.”

“Bernard Lavoine? He was your father?”

“No, Maurice Vevé. Bernard’s assistant.”

“The Sherpa,” said Rayburn. “Of course. But what does any of this have to do with me?”

“As I said in my note, Marie Lavoine was holding out on you. What was sent to Sotheby’s was only a fraction of what she had in her possession.”

Rayburn turned his attention away from the champagne bottle for a moment and said, “I knew she couldn’t be trusted.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Mr. Rayburn. My father worked just as hard as Monsieur Lavoine and yet Marie never sought to include me in any of your dealings.”

“You have to understand, my relationship with Marie Lavoine is very-”

“Was,” said Claudia, cutting the man off mid-sentence. “Your relationship was.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Marie Lavoine was murdered, Mr. Rayburn. Just as I am sure my father, Monsieur Lavoine, and Dr. Ellyson were also murdered.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” asked Rayburn. “I didn’t have anything to do with their deaths.”

“Oh, no?” replied Claudia.

“No.”

Mueller held his gaze for several moments and then said, “Whatever the case, it really doesn’t matter much now. I came here to do business, not to make any new friends.”

“That’s a shame,” said Rayburn as he finished removing the wire cage and gently twisted the base of the deep green champagne bottle until the cork came away with a soft pop. “I have a feeling you and I might have been exceptional friends.”

“I doubt that.”

Rayburn poured champagne into their glasses and replaced the bottle in the ice bucket. “Well, then, maybe we should skip the niceties and move straight to business.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Claudia as she accepted a glass.

Skipping the toast, Rayburn took a sip of the champagne, smacked his lips contentedly, and then said, “You mentioned Marie Lavoine was holding out on me. How would you be in a position to know such a thing?”

Mueller set her glass down on the table and replied, “All of the artifacts that came out of that chasm were carried out by my father and Bernard Lavoine-equally.”

“Therefore, you feel you are entitled to an equal share. Am I correct?”

“Exactly.”

“Except now we have a problem. According to you, Marie Lavoine is no longer with us.”

“Actually, it’s according to the police.”

Rayburn took another sip of champagne and asked, “What exactly was Marie Lavoine’s cause of death?”

“Gunshot wound to the head,” said Harvath, who, disguised as a waiter with darker hair, glasses, and a goatee, had strode up right behind him. He placed the silenced pistol he had wrapped in a large linen napkin and hidden beneath his tray against the base of the man’s skull and added, “It was fired from a weapon very similar to the one you’re feeling against the back of your neck right now.”

Seeing that Harvath had made contact with Rayburn, Schroeder removed his cell phone from his pocket and sent a broadcast text message to his team. Forty-five seconds later, a pair of flashbang grenades detonated in front of the café. Everyone inside, including Rayburn’s men, strained to look out the window to see what had happened. As they did, three more flashbangs were pitched into the bar area along with several smoke canisters.