Rhinoceros (46 page)

'I never travel in them.'

'You will this time. Or you will not go. It is a large machine which will fly from a remote part of the airport.
A taxi will call for you. The driver's name is Thomas. The
other four members . . .'

Oskar paused and Thunder was appalled. Surely Oskar wouldn't know about the Elite Club, about who belonged
to it?

'Members?' Thunder croaked.

"The other four members of the party will arrive in separate taxis close to the machine. It will fly you to a
secret airfield close to Sylt. From there you will board a train which will take you across the embankment to your
rendezvous. It could be tomorrow or the day after.'

Oskar stood up, straightened his jacket. Then he replaced
his high-backed chair by the wall and put the small chair
in front of the desk.

'Is that all?' asked Thunder.

'Isn't it enough?' Oskar enquired and left the suite.

CHAPTER 26

Tweed had just returned to his suite with Paula and
Newman when someone hammered on the door non-stop.
Newman waved the other two back, approached the door
with the Smith & Wesson by his side. He opened the door
a few inches, then wide.

Pete Nield walked in. He was his normal cool self but
Tweed noticed he was fingering his small moustache.
That, added to the urgent hammering, told him Nield
was excited.

'Take a seat, Pete,' Tweed suggested. 'Relax.'

'Like a glass of nice cold water?' Paula asked him.

'Thanks. Yes, I would. I'm dry as the Sahara.'

He drank the whole glass in two swallows, accepted a
refill. He leant back against the couch and grinned.

'I have a little news to report.'

'Now why did I get that idea?' Tweed chaffed him.

'Gavin Thunder has arrived in Hamburg. He's staying at the Atlantic.'

There was a short silence. Newman folded his arms, standing up. Paula sat on a couch, curled her legs under
neath her, whistled.

'In a double-length stretch limo,' she said. 'With a flare
of trumpets and a band playing.'

'Don't you believe it,' Nield told her. 'He sneaked in like
a thief in the night. Comes in an ordinary taxi. Must have
paid the driver as the cab was nearing the hotel. Leaves
the porter to get his bag, hustles up the steps and he's out of sight.'

'Sure it was him?' queried Newman.

'Bet my pension on it. I was parked in the Opel not
far from the hotel entrance. But far enough back to use
binoculars. It was him. I've seen him often enough blasting
away at an interviewer on TV. Now I'd better get back
there — see who else turns up.'

'You've done well,' Tweed said. 'Yes, go back, keep
checking.'

'Well, that's some development,' Paula commented.

'The eagles gather,' Tweed said, half to himself, stand
ing on the balcony, gazing into space.

Less than a minute later there was a gentle tapping
on the door. When Newman opened it Lisa walked in
very quickly. She was holding a folded sheet of paper in
her hand.

'You'll never guess what I found slipped under my door.
It could have been there a little while. I spent ages in the
shower. Here it is.'

She handed Tweed the piece of paper. He unfolded it,
took his time studying it. Nothing in his face showed what
his reaction was to the contents. They were typed.

Drive to Flensburg tomorrow. You will find important infor
mation waiting for you there. Very urgent. Lisa.

He handed it to Paula. While she was reading it Lisa
was walking back and forth, couldn't keep still.

'The only thing wrong with that message,' she said, 'is I
didn't write it. So why has someone put my name on it?'

'Maybe because the sender doesn't like you,' Tweed
suggested. 'But the interesting point is it was typed on
the same machine as the earlier message inviting us to assemble at the Turm. The letter "i" jumps on both typed
messages.'

'It's a trap,' said Paula, who had handed the paper to
Newman.

'Oh, it's a trap all right.' agreed Tweed as he took
a map from a drawer. 'If I remember from a trip I
made quite a few years ago, the direct route up through
Schleswig-Holstein is along autobahn No. 7. Yes, I'm right, it is. And, I have a good memory for routes I've
driven along in the past. I can see a
lot of it in my mind.
The A7 to Flensburg is a very lonely route. Mile upon mile
of farmland and nothing else except for the odd dwelling
all on its own.'

'Ideal country for an ambush,' Newman observed.

'It is that. But that could be turned to our advantage.'

'You do believe,' Lisa began nervously, 'that message is
nothing to do with me?'

'Of course we do,' Tweed said with a smile.

'Then I think I'll go back to my room. I threw on clothes
to bring that to you. I need to get dressed properly.' She
hesitated. 'I can have dinner with you tonight?'

'Let's make sure nothing else develops. Keep in touch. . .'

Paula, again on a couch with her legs curled under her,
was trying to make up her mind.
I can't keep this back any
longer.,
she decided.

'Now Lisa's gone I have something you ought to
know . . .'

They listened in silence as she described her visit to
Lisa's room, how she had answered the phone. The voice which had said 'Oskar' before she had broken the connection.

'And,' she concluded, 'while she was here we let slip the
idea that maybe we could plan an ambush.'

Tuts a different complexion on a lot of things,' Newman commented grimly. 'We have a spy who knows too much
about us.'

The huge underground room, beneath an unoccupied
warehouse and alongside the river Elbe, had twenty men
of varying nationalities assembled. It was a bleak chamber
with an ancient roof constructed of giant beams. The
floor was paved with old stones, the sound of seeping
water added to the unsettling atmosphere. The water was
trickling in between gaps in a massive stone wall which
looked as though it had stood there for a hundred years.
An uneasy feeling was apparent among the villainous occupants. Perched on a heavy wooden crate Delgado watched them, keeping them in suspense deliberately. Barton broke the eerie silence.

'Don't like this place. Supposing that wall breaks?'

'We drown.'

Delgado grinned wolfishly as he saw Barton's expression.
As a method of controlling his brutal gang he was enjoying
it. Despite their weird appearance - Slovaks, Croats and
men from other parts of the world most Westerners
had never heard of - they had all been well trained in
the use of weapons. All had been given large sums of
money and promised more when they had accomplished
the massacre.

'Tomorrow,' Delgado said, 'we do it. Here.'

He pointed with a long thick finger to the map of
Schleswig-Holstein pinned to a blackboard beside him.
He was pointing to the autobahn which eventually led to
Flensburg. Then he glared at Barton and Panko.

'You have the trucks?'

He was referring to four Discovery Land Rovers, vehi
cles capable of traversing almost any kind of territory.

'They're in the garage you hired,' Barton said
sullenly.

'How we know they go up autobahn?' demanded the
frisky Panko.

'Is quickest way. They will go.'

'What do we do to them?' Barton asked. 'Like the
Turm?'

He was being sarcastic, recalling the fiasco. Delgado
could have smashed his face in. He breathed heavily and
then told them.

'We kill all Tweed men. Kill. Kill. Kill. OK?'

There was a growl of approval from the men assembled below him, a growl like that of predatory animals. Several
raised their hands in a clawlike gesture.

'What wrong with you. Barton?' Delgado demanded, glaring at his target.

'People outside may hear us.'

'You think this?' Delgado gave his wolfish grin again. 'I
ask you, clever Barton. You hear ships' sirens?'

'No.'

'Beyond that wall river Elbe. Ships moving all time.
Using sirens. You do not hear? They do not hear us.
Idiot!'

Delgado paused. 'Now, tomorrow, this we do . . .'

It was evening when Tweed summoned Marler, Butler and
Nield to his suite where they joined Paula and Newman. In his shirt sleeves with the windows wide open, Tweed had the map of Schleswig-Holstein spread out on a large
table.

'We've had a mysterious invitation to visit Flensburg tomorrow,' he explained. 'It is a trap. We will walk into
their trap. Marler, you will be in charge of the operation
to destroy our attackers once and for all. To use a certain
phrase, we take no prisoners.'

Paula was startled. She had never heard Tweed issue such an order before. She looked at him as he stood,
crouched over the map, arms wide spread. His mood was
one of deadly and controlled determination.

'We drive up,' Tweed continued, 'in the cream Mercedes
which the enemy has now become accustomed to seeing us
use. All except you, Harry. You will leave half an hour
later, after we have gone, driving after us up the A7. In the
blue Mercedes. You will carry one of the advanced mobile
phones - so you can contact Marler if you see something
he should know about. You are our distant rearguard.'

'We drive up this direct route, then?' Marler queried.
His finger traced the autobahn from the northern outskirts
of Hamburg all the way to Flensburg in the far north.

'That's the route.'

'So the distance from here to Flensburg is . . .'

'One hundred and eighty kilometres,' Tweed replied.
'Driving at normal speed, not like a bat out of hell, it
takes about two hours to reach Flensburg.'

'Traffic. How much of it?' Marler wanted to know.

'Hardly any - even at this time of year - once we've left
Hamburg and its suburbs behind. It's lonely and pretty
much deserted.'