by Rob Jones
“Isn’t that always the problem?” Hawke said, drawing a hard nudge in his ribs from Lea’s elbow.
“Your journey up the Bergstrasse would have taken you past Vaduz Castle, I’m sure, so you see my home is really very modest.” He smiled and his eyes danced across their faces. “But I digress. I liaised with Sir Richard and the Mexicans to get you here because I feel we may be of mutual assistance to each other. As a serious collector in the world of archaeology, I have followed your exploits closely. I hope that doesn’t make me sound like an obsessive. It is a pleasant and necessary distraction from my business life.” He smiled at them warmly. “I presume Sir Richard briefed you fully about my business proposal?”
“You want us to retrieve the idol for you,” Lea said.
“The stolen idol,” Wolff corrected. “Yes.”
“Of course.”
“I have an extensive collection of antiquities as you can see for yourselves, and the discovery of the Temple of Huitzilopochtli must rank as one of the greatest archaeological events in modern history. The idol you retrieved from it is of particular interest to me as my primary fascination is with the Phoenician Empire. I can’t begin to imagine how an idol depicting Tanit ended up in Mexico, but I know I cannot live without it. I am a greedy man, and I want that idol. That is why I have offered the Mexican Government fifty million dollars for it. You will be paid ten percent now and another ten percent upon delivering the item to me – all in cash.”
As he spoke Brunhart walked into the room with a black leather attaché case and Wolff opened it to reveal five million American dollar in neat bundles.
“But fifty million dollars?” Ryan said. “It was only eight inches high!”
“I am aware of its dimensions, Mr Bale. There are other dark forces seeking that idol, and they must not be permitted to acquire it under any circumstances. I can tell you no more until you have retrieved the idol from the Mexican thief. Only then will you be told the rest… and get your money, naturally.”
“Dark forces?” Lea asked.
“As I say, I am not at liberty to say more.”
As he spoke, Ryan perused the extensive collection of antiquities, stopping at a stone sculpture of the Lady of Elche. Ryan’s eyes widened like saucers. “I thought this was in the National Archaeological Museum in Madrid?”
Wolff turned to face him. “A reproduction only. This is the genuine piece. I paid far too much for it.”
“I’ve seen it in pictures but never up close like this. She’s incredible.”
“I’m very proud of it,” Wolff said.
Ryan made a circle around the sculpture and studied the intricate carvings with care. What had once been an impressive piece of Phoenician sculpture now took on an entirely different perspective thanks to what he had seen in the depths of Mictlan.
“It’s made of limestone and was discovered over a hundred years ago near Valencia,” Wolff continued, noting his interest, “but the truth is we know very little about it. There are many sculptures of Tanit in the world, but la dama de Elche has always captivated me.”
“Naturally,” Ryan said, still peering at the convoluted carvings in the headdress. “The idol I saw in Mexico looked like this one, and precisely so, as well.”
Wolff rose from his seat. “Am I right in understanding you also found the Treasure of the Sad Night?”
Ryan nodded. “The Aztecs were storing it inside the Temple of Huitzilopochtli so we know they were using the place up till the conquest era but they never took it inside Mictlan itself. We know this because we found it dumped outside the gates of the underworld and we know the Spanish never went inside because it was sealed shut. But the idol itself came from Mictlan.”
“We can’t say much more,” Camacho said stepping forward, “for reasons of national security. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course,” Wolff said.
“So now we know who you are and what you want,” Hawke said, “what part will you be playing in all this, except for paying a shed load of cash for the idol?”
“My part in all this is to supply you with whatever armaments you may feel necessary to achieve your mission. As you will no doubt be aware, I have access to the very latest weapons technologies in the world and you are welcome to use any you deem appropriate in order to secure the idol for me.”
“All my Christmases have come at once,” Scarlet muttered.
“My warehouse is in a secure facility on the outskirts of Vaduz, but I took the liberty of having a selection brought here to my home. Please, won’t you follow me?”
Wolff led them through the secret passageway and along a dimly lit corridor. “This goes through the heart of the house,” he said solemnly. “If you’ll please follow me down these steps.”
“Are we sure this is Liechtenstein?” Ryan whispered to Maria. “What if we took a wrong turn and it’s Transylvania?”
She playfully slapped the back of his head and told him to shut up.
They approached another door which gave way to a short corridor with breeze block walls and a cement floor. “It’s just down here.” He opened a second door and they entered a small storage facility. “This is the vault.”
Inside the climate-controlled vault, Wolff made a sweeping gesture with his hands and revealed the largest cache of weapons Hawke had ever seen outside of any military arsenal.
“This is incredible!” Scarlet said.
Wolff smiled, beaming with pride. He tipped his head forward in a courteous and courtly bow. “And yours for the taking, my dear.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
After selecting their weapons, Hawke, Lea and Lexi rejoined Wolff who was now wearing a thin, silk scarf and taking Orange Pekoe tea on the balcony overlooking Vaduz. The others remained inside by the fire while Ryan returned to the bust of the Lady of Elche and studied her headdress.
Scarlet watched Ryan tracing his fingers over the statue’s face. “Do you two want a room?”
“This is fascinating,” Ryan said, crouching once again to get another look at the sculpture. “I’ve stared and stared at these carvings but they’re just not making any sense. Another thing that’s bothering me is that I’m seeing pictographs and echoes of so many cultures it’s starting to freak me out. This here looks Aztec but this one is obviously Punic – and then again over here is a hieroglyphic that quite frankly looks like Early Dynastic Egyptian. It must be an historical first. I’m speechless.”
“And that makes two historical firsts,” Scarlet said.
“Amazing!” Ryan said, too excited to catch the jibe. “It really is amazing.”
“I was being sarcastic, boy,” she said.
This time he turned to face her. “Are you ever anything else?” he said. “While I’m here appreciating this ancient art you’re making smarmy comments and staring at Camacho’s rear end.”
“I am not!” she said.
“Was she?” Camacho said, and then turning to Scarlet: “Were you?”
“Absolutely not!”
“Touched a raw nerve…” Ryan said.
“I’ll touch some raw nerves in a minute,” Scarlet snapped. “Like the ones in between your…”
Camacho looked at her with a sly grin. “I don’t know if I’m buying that denial, babe. You’re kind of blushing there.”
Scarlet put her hands on her hips. “I bloody well am not!”
“She is – look at her!” Ryan said.
“I think so too,” said Maria.
“The lady protests too much, methinks,” Camacho said.
Ryan sighed. “Actually when Shakespeare wrote that it meant to make a vow, not like today when it means to make a false denial.”
“Thanks a lot, darling – oh, look out – captain’s on the deck.”
Wolff showed the others back inside the warm and Brunhart appeared from nowhere with a silver plate full of Valle Dulcis chocolates and glasses full of Reisetbauer schnapps.
“Please, help yourselves – if it’s not too earl
y for you.”
“What’s the time, Mr Wolff?” Ryan said, deadpan.
Scarlet rolled her eyes.
Lea sighed.
Maria turned to suppress a smile and pretended to watch an imaginary bird flying outside the giant window wall.
Wolff surprised them all by pulling a solid silver pocket watch out of his jacket. “Time we toasted to your success, I think!”
Everyone helped themselves with the exception of Ryan who had now moved on to the Venus de Milo. “You know, I’m certain this is a fake.”
Wolff took a step closer and squinted at the stonework. “Nonsense! I bought it directly from the Louvre!”
“No, I’m sure I’m right – this looks like deliberate distressing here, and here.”
“I see,” Wolff said, his words heavy with scepticism. “You expect me to believe this statue is a fake?”
“Pretty much,” Ryan said without looking up from the smooth curve of her upper thigh.
“And he’s never really wrong,” Lea said.
Scarlet rolled her eyes. “True, but bloody annoying.”
“But you’ll be pleased to know,” Ryan said, standing up to face Wolff, “that your Tanit is without a doubt the original and a wonderful depiction of a goddess of Atlantis.”
“What did you say?” Wolff said, suppressing a chuckle.
“He said Atlantis, darling.”
Wolff shook his head and took a step back. “Is this some kind of a joke?”
“No joke,” Lea said. “Ryan doesn’t joke about things like this.”
“It’s true,” Scarlet said. “The only funny thing about Ryan is the length of his…”
“Yes, thank you, Scarlet,” Hawke said.
Ryan gave Scarlet a sideways glance but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he turned his attention to Wolff who was now looking surprised.
“You mean to tell me you seriously believe in Atlantis?”
“Well…”
“I have studied ancient cultures for decades!” Wolff said. “Atlantis is a myth, and not substantiated in the least beyond a few short words from Plato. A myth! That is the opinion of every academic and curator who has ever studied the subject. The mere suggestion is absolutely ridiculous and makes me question your credibility. Atlantis is nothing more than a legend!”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Camacho said. “But we can’t take any risks. I’m sure you would have said Mictlan was a myth but now we know it’s real.”
“I want the idol, Mr Hawke, not some ludicrous search for Atlantis. Is that clear?”
“Clear as crystal,” Lea said, but Hawke could see she was biting her tongue.
“Good,” Wolff said, and called Brunhart to the room. They exchanged a few words and then he turned to face the ECHO team and Brunhart locked the attaché case back up. Wolff slid it off the table and handed it to Lea. “Here is your five million dollars. The other five will be transferred when you retrieve the idol.”
*
Driving back to Vaduz Airport, Lea called in to report their meeting with Wolff to Eden. After a brief conversation they decided to Skype and moments later she was watching Eden, Alex and recently-arrived Kim Taylor in the Elysium Briefing Room.
“Any luck?” he asked.
“Not much – we’re still in Liechtenstein.”
“And how was Herr Wolff?”
“He should be called Big Hair Wolff,” Ryan said. “Talk about a mullet.”
“It wasn’t a mullet,” Lea said, rolling her eyes. “He gave us plenty of toys to play with in the hunt for Mendoza but he’s not sold on the idea of Atlantis. He was very clear about that when he handed us the five mil in cash.”
“As we thought,” Eden said “And I’ve got something else you all need to know.”
He leaned forward in his seat and picked up the remote from the glass-topped table. “It’s about the idol.” As he spoke, he selected some more files on the plasma screen and closed the electronic shutters, plunging the room into darkness.
“Ooh, cosy!” Scarlet said.
“Don’t tell me – Silvio Mendoza?” Lexi said.
“The very same,” Eden said with a heavy sigh. “As you know, after he fled into the jungle I put the word out among my MI5 contacts – gave them a description and some of his more recent mugshots given to me by Enrique Valles in Mexico. They poked around a bit…”
“Translation,” Scarlet said. “Did more hacking than a Canadian lumberjack…”
Eden gave her a look. “They looked into it for me and handed it to Six who in turn pushed it out to some of their global assets. An hour ago Europol contacted MI5 with a positive match.”
Eden tapped some information into his iPad and Mendoza’s face was projected on the plasma screen behind his head.
“Urgh,” Scarlet said. “I had no idea how much of a bastard he looks until you blew his face up like that.”
“I’d like to blow his face up, all right,” Lea said.
“Yes, quite,” Eden said, changing the image. “The picture you see here is one of Silvio Mendoza and Aurora Soto exiting Vienna International Airport a few hours ago.”
“Vienna?” Hawke said. “What the hell are they doing there?”
“We know he took the idol from the temple complex in Mexico,” Ryan said. “Maybe he’s trying to find out more about it from one of the museums. There are dozens of them there.”
“Or maybe he fancied a trip on the Wiener Riesenrad,” Scarlet said, her voice heavy with sarcasm, referring to the famous Ferris wheel in the Prater amusement park.
“He didn’t want any ride on a fairground ride,” Eden said flatly “And if you listened to the briefing you’d know why.”
He put a third and final image of Mendoza up on the screen. This was a grainy black and white still from some CCTV footage showing the Mexican drug lord. “They caught the train from the airport and arrived in Vienna shortly afterwards. This is our man walking along the western platform of the Vienna Praterstern train station in Leopoldstadt. After this they were tracked west on CCTV across a bridge spanning a tributary of the Danube.”
“And then?”
“They visited a Professor Franz Huber, formerly of the Vienna Museum of Ethnology, who just happens to be…”
“A world-famous expert on Aztec artefacts?” Maria said.
“A dead expert to be more precise,” Eden said with a sigh. “We don’t know exactly what happened inside Professor Huber’s apartment, but when he tried to leave the apartment block the Vienna police were already surrounding the building. They had followed him there using the same information I am now telling you. Mendoza reverted to form and used Huber as a human shield until he was safely out of sight. After a shootout they managed to get away. They found Huber’s body in a church less than an hour ago. Either Mendoza or Soto had stabbed him through the ribcage in what the local police have described as a frenzied attack.”
“Which means they must have already got all they wanted from him,” Hawke said.
“The latest?” Lexi said.
“Vienna has a maze of subterranean tunnels and cellars running underneath it dating from ancient Roman times. They disappeared into them from the crypt and for a while the police thought they’d lost them.”
“What is it with this bloke and tunnels?” Ryan said. “Maybe it’s a Freudian thing?”
Eden flashed him a disapproving look. “According to the Viennese police they connect up with the modern sewer network and he used them to make his way undetected to the train station where he caught a train to Munich.”
“Munich? What’s there?”
Eden sighed heavily before he spoke. “A former associate of mine named Dirk Kruger. Think of him as my nemesis… I do.”
“Dirk Kruger?” Ryan said with a smirk. “Did you just make that name up off the top of your head, Rich?”
“I did not, funnily enough. Dirk and I went to university together and were friends a long time ago – when I went into the army he went into archae
ology. He’s no lover of the ancient though and in it purely for the looting. We haven’t spoken for decades. Today it looks like he’s hosting a little soirée for our Mexican friends.”
“How do we know all this?” Lexi asked.
“Mendoza was tracked to a hotel used by Dirk in Munich about two hours ago. The Hotel Sendling. Dirk has a room booked there.”
Eden raised his wrist to check the time. “So here’s the plan. We’re formally engaged by Mexico City to retrieve the idol for Wolff, but I’m sure you’ll all agree with me that Atlantis is the real prize here.”
“The idol and Atlantis are linked anyway, I just know they are,” Ryan said distractedly. “I don’t care what old Wolff says.”
“Well,” Eden said. “We need Mendoza in custody at the very least, and more than that we need that idol. We can analyse it in depth before returning it to Wolff, and we just cannot allow someone like Mendoza to have anything that could lead him to Atlantis.” He lowered his voice and fixed his eyes on them. Lea noticed he looked more anxious than usual. “I’ll warn you now that Dirk Kruger is ruthless, and worse than that he’s lucky. In fact he’s the luckiest bastard I’ve ever known.”
He cut the call just as Reaper steered the Discovery into Vaduz Airport.
“Rich did say Munich, didn’t he?” Scarlet said smiling. “It’s the Oktoberfest right now, isn’t it?”
“Sounds good to me,” Lea said. “I’ve always wanted to go to Munich.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The South African stared at the Lichtenburg figure on Silvio Mendoza’s creased face with unconcealed fascination. A man like Dirk Kruger had never worried about the views and opinions of others and he wasn’t about to start now. The veins of scar tissue ran up from beneath the cartel boss’s collar and crawled all over the left side of his neck and face like the baby boomslang snakes Kruger had tormented as a child in Cape Town.
Kruger’s heavy South African accent filled the otherwise silent Munich hotel room as he raised a finger full of gold rings and pointed at Mendoza’s face. “How did you get that?”