This United state tac-16

by Colin Forbes

  'Marler? You recognize my voice? Good. The extra asset we thought we'd have with us is no longer available.'

  'Understood,' Marler acknowledged.

  'I had to be careful,' Tweed remarked, 'since I was phoning him at the Schwarzwalder Hof. Now I'm going to try and get hold of Roy Buchanan. I can remember his mobile number.'

  'Why Buchanan?' Paula asked.

  'Listen and you'll see – if I get him…'

  Buchanan responded very quickly and Tweed explained that Sir Guy Strangeways had just been murdered, most probably by the Phantom. He told him of the arrangement to fly the body to Heathrow, asked if he could arrange to have the private plane met, then for an autopsy to be performed.

  'When they've taken the bullet out of Guy,' Tweed continued, 'I suggest it's compared with the one which killed our Prime Minister, the one which killed a man found dead off Regent Street, the one which killed the German, Keller, and the one which killed a French Minister…'

  Tweed listened for a few minutes, replied briefly, listened again and then thanked Buchanan before he broke the connection.

  'Any news from Roy?' Paula enquired.

  'Yes. He was on his way to Heathrow. They had an anonymous call that a bomb has been placed aboard a plane bound for the Western hemisphere. That covers a lot of territory. Umpteen planes are grounded. Chaos at Heathrow. A fresh ploy to destabilize us. Roy is going to wait to meet the plane flying in Guy's body. I think that tells you all we said to each other.'

  'I forgot to mention it earlier,' Newman said. 'Just before we came up here I noticed someone come back into the hotel from outside. It was Ed Osborne.'

  'Interesting,' commented Tweed. 'Now let's go down and see if we can get a late lunch. I think zero hour is very close.'

  When they entered the dining room waiters were clearing away the empty tables. But the maitre d' told Tweed that of course they could have lunch. The only other guest in the room as they made their way to their table was Sharon.

  She raised a hand, waved to them, then returned to checking a file. A waiter brought her a fresh pot of coffee, removed an old one. Paula sighed after they had ordered.

  'That woman never stops working. She has a pile of files on a chair.'

  'She's dedicated,' said Tweed.

  'I wonder if she's heard about Guy.'

  'Paula, if she has, she has. If she hasn't she'll hear sooner or later.'

  'You're in a hurry, aren't you?'

  'Yes. It will be dark soon. It would be anyway at this time of the year, but with this heavy overcast it will come quicker.'

  Like Paula, Tweed was eating quickly during gaps in their conversation.

  'Which means?' she asked quietly.

  'I think Ronstadt will be leaving any minute. I'm surprised I haven't heard from Marler. I'd expect activity over where he's staying.'

  'We've finished dessert. We could skip coffee.' 'I think we should.'

  Newman looked up as someone appeared at the entrance to the restaurant. A tall smooth-faced man wearing a good suit. He glanced across at Sharon. She was so absorbed in her file she didn't see him beckon briefly to Newman.

  'Excuse me,' said Newman. 'Back in a minute.'

  The tall man had disappeared. Newman found him waiting at the entrance to the bar. Inside Basil Windermere sat with his back to the entrance, nursing a glass. The tall man moved a few feet along the wall as Newman approached him with a smile.

  'Well, if it isn't Chuck Venacki. Last seen with a car parked outside Park Crescent, watching the place.'

  'And then Bob Newman rams me up the rear in his four-wheel drive. You pulled that job pretty smartly.' 'What is it, Venacki?'

  'You can call me Chuck. Tell Tweed to go to his room now. I do mean now.'

  'Why?'

  'He'll find out why very quickly. You're short of time.'

  'Can you tell me why?'

  'Make with the feet, Newman, for God's sake.'

  Newman walked back into the restaurant. He sat down, pushed his dessert dish away. While he did this he leant close to Tweed.

  'I suggest you go to your room immediately. It could be urgent.'

  'I'll come with you, if that's all right,' Paula said. 'Yes, come with me'

  'I'm going to my room,' Newman said. 'So you know where to get me.'

  Tweed, with Paula by his side, strolled out of the restaurant. He looked across at Sharon, but she was so absorbed in working on her file she didn't notice them.

  'That woman,' Paula remarked on their way up, 'has extraordinary powers of concentration.'

  'A real brain-box,' he agreed.

  They were inside his room, the door relocked, when she asked a question. Perched on the arm of a chair, she was wearing her outdoors outfit, complete with leggings and a strong pair of boots which would grip firmly on rough ground,

  'I wonder who that man was, the one Bob went out to talk to? He seemed to know him.'

  'Maybe an old contact from his days as an active journalist '

  'You don't really believe that.'

  'Frankly, at the moment I don't know what to believe.'

  'And why, I wonder, was it so important that you came up here?'

  'No idea. I just do what I'm told – when it's Bob who tells me.'

  A minute or two later the phone rang. 'Maybe it was this. We'll soon know. Yes,' he said, 'who is it?'

  'Ronstadt left a few minutes ago. With his bag. He checked out.'

  'You'd sooner not give me a name?'

  'Right on the button. Good luck.'

  Tweed put the phone down. He spoke as he went to a cupboard to fetch his packed bag.

  'We're on our way. Whoever phoned had a smooth American voice. And I have to call the others.'

  Paula was already on her way to the door, heading for her room. She stopped as Tweed's mobile started buzzing. He snatched it out of his pocket.

  'Yes. Who's calling?'

  'Me.' Marler's voice. 'Activity here. Drive over. Tell Bob to park at the edge of the Munsterplatz. He knows where…'

  'That was Marler,' Tweed said and Paula left the room.

  Tweed picked up the phone after dumping his bag close to his feet. He called Newman and Keith Kent. His message was the same to both of them.

  'Now! Meet you with your bag outside the hotel. On our way to the car. I've kept the bill up to date, so paying won't take a moment.'

  38

  It seemed almost night as they drove away from the Colombi. In the white Audi they occupied the same positions as they had when driving from Basel. Newman was behind the wheel with Paula beside him, a map open on her lap. In the rear Tweed sat with Keith Kent. The traffic was light amid the gloom and soon Newman was approaching the Munsterplatz. He slowed down, dimmed his lights, stopped. Out of nowhere Marler appeared. He spoke quickly but concisely through Newman's lowered window.

  'You got here just in time, I reckon. Ronstadt's black Audi has just left. Four men inside, including nice Jake, who's driving. The two Audis parked here also left, with seven men inside them. They're in front, with Ronstadt following. Bob, haven't you turned on the gizmo I bought in Geneva? The tracking device.'

  No, I forgot. I've switched it on now.'

  'How does it work?' Tweed asked, leaning forward. 'I hadn't even noticed it.'

  Below the dashboard, Marler had earlier attached, with magnetic grips, a circular screen about six inches in diameter. Illuminated now, the glow showed it was divided by thin lines into the points of the compass. A round red light, about the size of a British five-pence piece, was moving very slowly in an easterly direction.

  'That red light,' Marler explained, 'is Ronstadt. Earlier, Bob and I slipped back to where the Colombi parks cars. The signal-sending device was still on the roof of his car. It's about as big as one of those buttons you see on camel-hair coats. The signal travels up to a satellite which instantly returns it to your receiver, which you're looking at. To mine also. Luckily the device is black, so it merges with the colour of Ronstadt's car
. Got it?'

  'Just assume we do,' pleaded Paula. 'No more technicalities.'

  'He can't move all that fast,' Marler went on. 'Heard a forecast. There's been another heavy fall of now in the Black Forest. Before we move off I'm Father Christmas.' He hitched up a long canvas holdall, started handing weapons through the window.

  'One machine-pistol with ammo.'

  'I'll take that,' said Paula. 'I've practised with them a lot recently down at the mansion in Surrey.'

  'Walther 7.65mm automatics with spare mags.'

  'I'll take one of those,' said Tweed, his voice grim. 'I remarked earlier we must exterminate this vermin.' Keith Kent accepted a Walther as Marler went on producing more.

  'Grenades, smoke bombs…'

  'Some for me,' called out Paula.

  She stuffed them carefully inside her shoulder bag. She had already loaded the machine-pistol, laying it at her feet, the muzzle pointed at the door. Marler emptied his holdall, then said:

  'Tweed, do you agree I drive ahead, Bob follows? Then if there's an ambush, which I think there will be – remember one Audi left hours ago – I'll deal with it. Bob drives on to maintain contact with Ronstadt and his convoy. If they reach their base wait until I catch you up. Four men went ahead earlier, there are seven with Ronstadt, which makes eleven thugs. You'd be out-gunned.'

  'You might have trouble finding us,' Newman warned.

  `No, I won't. I'm attaching another gizmo to your roof. It will show a blue light on my screen so I'll find you. That is if all this lot works. Modern technology. Dicey business.'

  'I agree your strategy,' said Tweed.

  'Then I'm off to the killing ground, as they say. The Black Forest.'

  Marler reached up. Paula heard the magnetic clamps of the gizmo attach to the roof of their car. Marler ran off to where his white Audi was parked. Nield was already waiting in the front passenger seat. Butler sat hunched in the rear. Then Marler ran back to Newman's car.

  'I forgot,' he told Newman through the window which had been lowered again. 'When that red light starts flashing you're almost on top of Ronstadt. Now I really must get moving..

  'Paula,' said Tweed, 'sometimes Marler does have a grisly way of putting things.'

  'You're referring to his use of the phrase "killing ground",' she replied. 'I don't care. I was thinking of poor Guy. I want to send the lot of them to where he's gone.'

  They left Freiburg behind more quickly than Paula had expected. Soon they were driving over thick snow. As darkness fell the moon had risen, casting its vaporous glow over the lonely countryside. They entered a world of steep rolling hills covered with dense masses of fir trees, marshalled trunk to trunk like an invading army about to overwhelm them. Their branches and foliage, holding the snow, glittered like Christmas trees in the moonlight.

  'You see now,' Tweed said to Paula, 'why I said it can be very beautiful. Are you listening to me?'

  She was staring at the red light on the glowing screen. Her expression was almost brooding as though her thoughts were miles away., She shook her head; looked at Tweed.

  'Sorry, I didn't catch what you said.'

  'Doesn't matter. What were you pondering?'

  'A lot of things. For one, why didn't the manager of the Colombi warn us Ronstadt had checked out? Especially after Kuhlmann had spoken to him.'

  'Could be he was away from the hotel at the time. Or, if he was there, he might not have wanted to report the movements of one guest to another. If that was the case, I don't blame him. He has the reputation of the hotel to think of.'

  'I was also wondering about the three thugs who travelled with Ronstadt. We never saw them while we were there.'

  'He probably confined them to their rooms.'

  'I do remember what you said now.' She looked out of the window. 'It is beautiful – but also sinister. And we haven't seen any traffic since we started out. Except for Marler's rear lights in the distance.'

  'Something's coming towards us now in the opposite direction,' Newman remarked.

  'What on earth is it, Bob?'

  'Giant snowplough, clearing the snow. You have to give it to the Germans. They don't waste any time keeping the highways clear.'

  'It's the first one we've seen,' she objected.

  'Not surprising. It's out of season. Tourists – the skiing type – don't expect snow here as late as this. It's a really huge machine.'

  'Bob, slow down,' Tweed ordered.

  'Marler didn't.'

  'I said slow down until we've passed it. Ronstadt is capable of any trickery.'

  Tweed had lowered his window. He had his Walther in his hand. Paula automatically picked up the machine- pistol, laid it on her lap. The machine came closer, Newman had obeyed Tweed's command to slow down. Paula took a firmer grip on her weapon. The snowplough was moving very slowly and now the driver was visible. He appeared to be operating his machine innocently. Newman slowed down even more, cruising across the snow.

  'Can you see anyone else other than the driver?' Tweed asked.

  'Not from where I'm sitting,' Newman replied.

  Paula gently pushed Tweed back against his seat. She elevated her machine-pistol, aiming it through the open window. It had been so warm in the car before the window was lowered she had begun to feel sleepy. Now, with the ice-cold air pouring in, she was totally alert.

  The rumble of the big snowplough was very loud as it came on, much closer, spewing great quantities of snow off the highway. Just before it drew level the driver took off his peaked cap, waved it to them, then proceeded past them as Paula swiftly dropped her weapon out of sight. She let out her breath.

  'Now we can relax.'

  'No, we can't,' Tweed warned. 'Somewhere ahead I anticipate a major attack. So stay at the ready.'

  Newman increased speed – the gap between his and Marler's car had grown. Tweed closed the window and Paula started gazing out. Here and there she saw an isolated house made of wood, standing well back from the road, with welcoming lights. The houses had very steep roofs, presumably to slough off an accumulation of heavy snow.

  In the distance was a sweeping panorama of far-off summits, white with snow, of deep valleys inside which she saw tiny colonies of houses huddled at the bottom. One panorama succeeded another and in the moonlight it looked like paradise.

  'It's so peaceful,' she commented.

  'It is, so far,' Tweed warned.

  'The red light is growing fainter,' called out Newman. 'Same direction, but for some reason Ronstadt has speeded up.'

  'So has Marler,' Keith Kent said, speaking for the first time.

  'I'm doing the same,' Newman replied as he accelerated.

  'We're getting close to the Hollental,' Paula announced after checking her map with the aid of her torch. 'Very close, I'd say.'

  A few minutes later they entered a vast gorge. On both sides steep rugged slopes closed in on the highway. Paula felt a return of a sense of tension. The slopes, almost vertical in places, seemed to hem in the car. And now their height hid the moon, still shining on the upper slopes, but plunging the gorge into deepest shadow. No more cosy little houses with their welcoming lights. Just the dark remote gorge, cutting off all contact with the outside world.

  'I wonder how Marler's getting on?' Newman speculated. 'For some reason he's slowed down again.'

  'Keep a close eye on the heights,' Marler said to Nield. 'I am doing just that.'

  'If they're up there they have to have found somewhere they could drive up, I don't think they'd go in for any mountaineering if they could help it. In any case they'd have to park the car on the highway.'

  'Why are we going so slowly?' Butler called out from the back.

  'So we can see if they have turned off,' Marler told him.

  He had his lights on full beam, so he could look as far ahead as possible. Glancing up, he detected enormous snow-covered boulders poised high above them. Not a sight he welcomed. He checked his screen. The red light, which was Ronstadt's car, was fainter, t
elling him the American had increased his speed considerably. Why?

  He leaned forward, staring at the precipitous slope to his left. Could he be wrong? He drove on, still staring hard. Then he saw it wasn't his imagination. Ahead, climbing up the slope to his left, he made out the double tracks of a car's wheels, deep ruts in the otherwise virgin snow. He increased his speed.

  'Hold on to your seat belts. We're going up that slope. That's where they are. Lord knows how high above us.'

  Butler held his breath as Marler swung the car at speed – skidding as his rear wheels swung round. He rammed his foot down and began climbing what turned out to be a curving gulley with high banks of snow on either side. The snow tyres gripped the hard-frozen ground as he plunged higher still.

  Perched on the heights way above where the gulley left the highway, Brad, squat and ugly, but powerful, had earlier watched the highway far below through his night glasses. He had seen Ronstadt's convoy of three black Audis pass, heading deeper into the Hollental. Brad was in charge of the unit of four men, given the task of destroying Tweed and his team.

  'Dan,' he called out to a big man with a down-curving moustache, 'you've got an automatic rifle. Climb that tall tree over there. Do it now – before the bastards arrive.'

  'Buster,' he shouted to a fat man with a face like a slab of stone, 'you've got your machine-pistol. Get down behind that 'boulder so's you can cover the exit from the gulley. Just in case.'

  'And you, Bruce, he shouted again, 'you got your boulder ready to go down with mine?'

  Bruce, heavily built with a scarred forehead, like Brad stood at the edge of the ridge with a steep rolling slope below, but further along. He held a crowbar he'd used to lever the rock loose. Now he only had to heave on the crowbar inserted under it to send it down at murderous speed onto the highway.

  Brad was standing behind an enormous snow-covered boulder. It had taken all his considerable strength to lever it out so now it was poised on the brink. He stood with his crowbar shoved well underneath it. Like Bruce, he had only to exert enough pressure to send it flying into space. He called out again to Bruce.

  'T'ain't just the boulders which will kill Tweed's cars and everyone inside them. When the boulders go down they'll start an avalanche. Slope below us is unstable…'