The Power (61 page)

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Authors: Colin Forbes

BOOK: The Power
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Norton had no eye for the beauty and character of the
medieval village with its cobbled streets and leaning
houses. Disneyland, he thought contemptuously.

A few minutes later he saw the bridge. He paused and studied it. Glancing up to his left he saw an ancient castle
looming over the village - the perfect vantage point for
the watcher who would control the detonation of the explosive under the bridge. Norton had a strong feeling
this was the route Tweed would choose. He'd never even
see the Château Noir. He turned back to the hotel. He
was expecting a call from Bradford March. He had
already informed Sara of his new phone number.

37

'We must prepare a battle plan for our expedition into the
Vosges,' Tweed announced. 'Especially after what Philip
has reported, which is alarming.'

He was standing in the sitting area of his bedroom. It
was nearly midnight. When he had slipped down several
hours before to put back the master key the hotel had
been deserted.

Jennie had woken earlier, and said she wanted to go
back to her own room for a shower. Nield had been
selected to go with her to sit in the room on guard. Jennie
had been secretly pleased with the choice. She rather liked the look of the slim Pete Nield with his trim
moustache. He could be fun.

Paula sat on one of the beds, hands rested on the
coverlet on either side, her legs crossed. Newman, Butler,
Cardon and Marler listened. The latter, adopting his
usual stance, leaned against a wall, smoking a king-size.
The others occupied various chairs.

Marler had arrived back recently, carrying his cello
case, cricket bag and a suitcase. He had carefully placed
his wares in a corner.

'You'd like some sustenance?' Tweed had asked him.
'We got the Brasserie to prepare sandwiches and coffee in
a Thermos.'

'Thank you. Might indulge later. I stopped for a snack
on the way back from Strasbourg,' Marler had replied.

'What alarming news did Philip bring?' Paula asked. 'I was in the bathroom when he came in.'

'Philip,' Tweed told them, 'was observing comings and goings from a discreet position off the lobby. He told me
he'd seen at least six pairs of Americans leaving the hotel
at intervals. He heard cars starting up and all of them
were a long time before they returned, again at intervals.
I find those movements ominous.'

'Why?' pressed Paula.

'Butler,' Tweed continued, 'took over from Philip. He also reported pairs of Americans returning late in the
evening. They had snow on their boots.'

'Why ominous?' Paula persisted.

'First, because I'm convinced that Norton - the man
who impersonated Ives, I'm sure, at the
Gotthard - is the
evil genius behind the huge apparatus brought over here
from the States.'

'Evil genius?' drawled Marler. 'A bit strong that, isn't
it?'

'Is it?' Tweed looked grim. 'I told you how convincingly
he bluffed us when he turned up at the Gotthard. Then
when he ran for it he left behind a present for me. Prussic
acid in my mouthwash. And that trap he had organized in
Bahnhofstrasse. The fake cripple with the grenade -
backed up by a second man with a machine-pistol. Norton
is a top pro. I'm not making the mistake of underes
timating him.'

'And the second point?' Cardon enquired.

Those Americans who have been away from the hotel
this evening for hours. Some returning with snow on their
boots. I think they've studied the routes up into the
Vosges to the Château Noir.'

'I think so, too,' Newman agreed. 'And God knows
what booby traps they've prepared for us - whichever of the routes we use.'

'So we must outmanoeuvre them,' Tweed went on.
'First we should list our resources. Yes, Harry,' he said, addressing Butler.

'Pete Nield and I brought in some useful transport.
First, a Renault Espace V6, a spacious vehicle. I drove that and carried a couple of high-powered motorbikes
inside it. Pete Nield hired a station wagon. We crossed
the frontier into France without trouble. No one tried to search us. We could have taped our handguns under the
chassis.'

'Anyone like to see my contribution?' enquired Marler.

Unfastening the cello case he had placed on the bed
next to Paula, he raised the lid, removed the bow and
then the black velvet cloth. Paula glanced at the contents, dropped off the bed, walked to the other bed and perched
on it.

'If you don't mind,' she snapped at Marler. 'That little
collection looks lethal.'

'Oh, very!' Marler assured her and grinned.

The men all gathered round the cello case. Cardon gave
a yelp of delight.

'Grenades! Could I borrow six of those?'

'Which means I don't get them back,' Marler com
mented in mock annoyance. 'Help yourself.'

'I'll relieve you of the Luger,' Butler suggested. 'It
makes a good back-up for a Walther.'

'Go ahead,' Marler told him. 'The Armalite is mine, of course. And I'm hanging on to the tear-gas pistol.'

'Like to see my contribution to the arsenal?' Newman
suggested.

Fetching a canvas hold-all he'd dumped in a corner he
unzipped it. When he produced the Uzi sub-machine-gun
Paula stared.

'Are we thinking of starting a small war?' she asked.

'Which is just what the chap who supplied me with my
toys said,' Marler recalled.

'We're well equipped,' Tweed decided. 'Put it all away.
Now we must decide how we move into the mountains
when the time comes. Which may be tomorrow. I have to
talk to Amberg urgently - while he's still alive.'

'I could ride ahead of the cars on one of those
motorbikes,' Cardon suggested. 'I can sniff danger a mile
away.'

'Agreed,' said Tweed. 'Next suggestion
...'

They spent less than half an hour working out the
details of a convoy which would make its way up to the Château
Noir. Cardon would be the advance scout on his motorcycle. He would travel ahead of the large Espace
which Newman would drive, with Tweed and Paula as
passengers.

Butler would ride the second motorcycle, was given a 'roving' duty to travel back and forth along the well-
spaced-out convoy - well spaced to make a smaller target.

Nield would drive the station wagon, sometimes behind
the Espace, sometimes ahead of it. A tactic
which should confuse the opposition, if they were waiting for them.

That left Marler, who insisted on driving his red
Mercedes. Tweed was doubtful of the wisdom of this, pointed out its colour could be spotted a long distance up
in the mountains.

'I realize that,' Marler commented. 'But it moves like a bird. That's what I'll be driving.'

'Then we've worked out an action plan,' Tweed concluded. Time you all went to bed, got some sleep. Harry,
do you mind relieving Pete Nield, who's watching over Jennie? Fix up with Bob when
he'll take over guard duty
from you . ..'

'All this sounds like an assault force attacking the Château
Noir,' Paula said to Tweed as everyone except
Marler left the room.

'It may be just that,' Tweed warned her. 'If Norton has already taken over the place before we arrive.'

'I won't be coming with you,' Marler told Tweed when
Paula was the only other person still in the room.

Tweed listened as Marler told him about his visit to the glider airfield at the Ballon d'Alsace. Paula was appalled,
thought that Marler's plan sounded like a suicide trip,
said so.

'I'm touched that you should worry about my welfare.'
He grinned. 'Don't worry. I had a Met forecast over the
radio on my way back from Strasbourg. Wind direction is
perfect. A southerly - blow me north. Tweed, you'll have a spy in the sky above the chateau. Cost you a bomb if I crash the bird landing.'

'We'll find the money, I suppose.'

'And the glider will act rather like a flying bomb - if Norton's thugs are crawling round in the area.'

'We go into the mountains tomorrow, then?' Paula
asked.

'Yes,' Tweed replied. 'I've decided not to delay.
Amberg may be in great danger. We'll go via
Kaysersberg.'

'Jolly good.' Marler gave Paula a little salute. 'Get to
bed now. I'll be up at crack of dawn. For
Der Tag.'

* * *

Norton had returned to the Green Tree, satisfied that the
bridge was a perfect ambush location - if Tweed chose the
Kaysersberg route. He took off his fur hat and astrakhan coat in the entrance hall, shook off the snow, went up the
staircase to his room.

As he inserted his key he heard the phone ringing inside. Once in the room, he slammed the door shut, locked it and hurried to the phone. He had no doubt it
was the President calling yet again.

'A call for you,' the hotel operator informed him and
he heard the click as she went off the line.

'Norton here.'

'Good evening to you, Mr Norton,' a hoarse growly
voice said. 'You will know who has given me your
number. Now please be so good as to listen carefully to
my instructions. If you really want the film and the tape.'

'Who is this?' grated Norton.

'Are you deaf? I told you to listen. One more comment and I go off the line. Have you got that?'

'Yes,' Norton replied with great reluctance. He was
used to giving orders, not receiving them.

'You will drive to Lac Noir in the Vosges tomorrow,
arriving there at sixteen hundred hours. Since you are
American that is four o'clock in the afternoon ...'

'I damn well know that. . .'

'One more interruption and this call ceases. Someone
in Washington would not be pleased with you.
The
patron
of the Green Tree, where you are staying, will show you
on a map how to reach Lac Noir. Tell him you want to arrive at four and he will tell you when you must start.
Have you understood me so far?'

The growly voice purred with menace. Even Norton, who thought he had experienced everything, was dis
turbed. He was careful with his reply.

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