Kingdom of Darkness (17 page)

Dazed, Nina sat up – and felt heat scouring her face. The Merc had been flipped on its side and set aflame by the car bomb, blocking the two outer lanes. The minivan’s nose was buried in the wreckage. Fire was already spreading to the Toyota’s bodywork. ‘Deyab!’ she cried. ‘Go back, reverse!’

The Egyptian brought up an arm to shield his face from the blaze, fumbling for the gear selector with the other. Through the flames, Nina saw sunlight flash off silver and glass. The Touareg had swung around to come back towards them—

Gunfire!

She twisted, looking past the dazed Banna and Habib to see that the Fortuner had stopped behind them. One of the ASPS jumped out – only to be cut down by a burst of bullets from another van. Black-clad men scrambled from the newly arrived vehicle and opened up with automatic weapons. The Egyptian guards thrashed and flailed as rounds ripped through their bodies.

Horrified, Nina desperately pounded a fist against Deyab’s shoulder. ‘Go, get us out of here! It’s an ambush!’

The bodyguard floored the accelerator. The engine whined, but the minivan could only manage a crawl, its front bumper entangled with the Mercedes. He jerked the steering wheel in an effort to shake it loose.

The Touareg stopped on the other side of the burning barricade. More men jumped out – Rasche amongst them. ‘It’s them, it’s the Nazis!’ Nina yelled. ‘Jesus Christ,
go
!’

Guns raised, the attackers ran towards them—

The minivan broke free. It lurched backwards, swerving off the road before Deyab regained control. He braked hard and shoved the gear selector into drive.

The van scrabbled through the sand. The Egyptian spun the wheel to round the blockade – and charge at the gunmen. Some of the Nazis had to dive to avoid being mowed down.

‘Everyone duck!’ Nina yelled, seeing guns being brought to bear. She dropped low, pushing Macy’s head down. But the expected assault didn’t come.

Which meant the Nazis wanted them alive . . .

The minivan swung past the Touareg, tyres shrilling as it bounded back on to the asphalt. Still shielding himself from the licks of fire coming through the broken windshield, Deyab hauled the Toyota back into line with the highway—

The side windows burst apart.

Rasche fired a long burst from his MPX-K, raking bullets along the Toyota’s flank at head height. Deyab screamed as a grazing round ripped across his temple, instinctively bringing both hands up to the wound.

The van veered towards the concrete divider. ‘Deyab!’ Nina shrieked. He realised the danger and grabbed the wheel again—

Too late.

The Toyota hit the unyielding slab at an angle and was flipped into a roll. Engine screaming, it crashed down on the divider, flank grinding along it before toppling back on to the road – upside down. The remaining windows shattered. The minivan screeched along the tarmac before, top-heavy, it rolled again and landed on its side.

The seat belts had saved its occupants from serious injury, but now the same restraints trapped them inside the overturned vehicle. Nina struggled to find the release, but Macy was slumped on top of her. ‘Macy, wake up!’ she cried.

The younger woman moved weakly, but had been left stunned by the crash. Nina reached around her, grabbing her friend’s seat belt and following it to its buckle. She stabbed at the button, and with a yelp Macy dropped from her seat, tumbling over the redhead to end up in a heap. Nina found her own button and thumped down beside her.

‘Come on, get up!’ she said, wriggling clumsily around in the confined space. ‘We’ve gotta go!’ Banna and Habib were still belted into the rear seats. The young archaeologist had a deep cut on the side of his face. ‘Banna! Ubayy, can you hear me?’

Banna’s face screwed up in pain. ‘Yes, yes,’ he managed to say.

‘Hold on, I’ll get you loose.’ She reached out—

‘Nina!’ Macy cried in alarm. Nina turned – and through the now vertical slot of the windshield saw men encircling the overturned Toyota. All were armed.

‘Shit!’ Nina gasped, moving with a new, fear-driven urgency. She and Macy unfastened Banna’s seat belt, pulling him upright before releasing Habib. ‘They’re surrounding us. I don’t know what—’

‘Dr Wilde!’ called a voice from outside. Rasche. ‘Do not try to escape.’

A deeper voice told Nina that Walther was also amongst their attackers, the hulking Nazi issuing orders. A young man peered in through the van’s rear window, giving its occupants a cursory glance before spotting the case. He dragged it into the open.

Rasche appeared at the front window, narrowing his eyes as he saw Deyab still buckled into the driver’s seat. The bodyguard groped for his gun—

Lips curling into a cruel smile, Rasche shot him in the head. Blood and brain matter splattered across the seat, and the Egyptian’s body went limp, twitching. Macy screamed.

Someone climbed on to the minivan. Dazzling sunlight flooded in as the door above the two women was pulled open. ‘Get them,’ Rasche said, gesturing with his gun.

Hands reached down, roughly pulling Nina out. ‘You didn’t have to kill him!’ she shouted at the Nazi leader. Rasche merely shrugged. Macy was lifted into the open, then Banna and finally Habib. The four stood in a line beside the wreck, fearfully regarding the hard, impassive faces staring back at them.

The young man who had retrieved the case called to Rasche and held up the bronze relic. He frowned at the prisoners. ‘Where is the statue?’

‘It was destroyed,’ Nina replied. The Nazi’s expression darkened further. ‘But we found that hidden inside it.’

Walther joined him and spoke in German. Rasche was still not pleased, but nodded. ‘Then it is fortunate that our orders were already to take you alive,’ he told Nina. ‘We have use for archaeologists. Especially one with a reputation for finding the unfindable.’

‘What use?’ she demanded.

He ignored her, watching the other man return the relic to the case before moving to Habib. ‘Thank you for all the information you gave us, Youssef. You have been most useful.’

Habib’s expression became that of a rabbit trapped in headlights. ‘You – you promised you would keep my helping you a secret!’

‘
You
gave them the tomb plans?’ cried Nina. The enraged Banna tried to lunge at him, but one of the Nazis shoved him back against the minivan.

‘I needed the money!’ Habib gabbled. ‘I did not know anyone would be hurt, I swear to Allah!’ He turned to Rasche, frantic. ‘Why did you tell them? They will tell the police – I will go to prison!’

‘We are going to take them with us, so they will not talk to anyone,’ Rasche replied. ‘Come over here. I have the rest of your payment.’

He backed to the roadside. Habib followed, offering a stammering apology over his shoulder to Banna. It was not well received. Shamefaced, the government official turned back to Rasche—

The German’s gun was pointed at his heart.

Habib barely had time to register the betrayal before Rasche pulled the trigger. He staggered, held upright by sheer disbelief, before collapsing on to the tarmac. Macy screamed again and turned away, Banna frozen in horror. Another wave of cold disgust hit Nina.

‘
Gierige kleine Ratte
,’ muttered Walther. He issued an order, and the case was taken to the Touareg. ‘Move,’ he told the prisoners.

‘Where are you taking us?’ Nina demanded as she, Macy and Banna were hustled to the Nazis’ van.

Rasche’s malevolent smile returned. ‘To the home of the New Reich.’

15

Italy

‘Well, this is ironic,’ said Eddie. ‘Me and Nina sat right here not that long ago. If we’d known there was a bad guy just over there, I could have sorted him out before any of this started.’

He and Zane were in the heart of the small town of Amalfi, on Italy’s west coast. On their visit some weeks earlier, Nina had been entranced by the beauty of the medieval port, and even Eddie, not normally given to gushing over matters aesthetic, had agreed that it was ‘really pretty’. Elegant old buildings of pale stone surrounded the busy square, leading the eye to the baroque cathedral towering over it. Beyond the striped marble structure, the ragged cliffs that for centuries had acted as natural fortifications formed a stunning backdrop.

But his interest today was not scenery. The two men were in one of the piazza’s pavement cafés, keeping a sidelong watch on another establishment: more specifically, a patron. Seated in the shade was a lean, pale-skinned man in his fifties, his features further protected from the sun – and observers – by a broad-brimmed white hat and a pair of rectangular sunglasses. Despite the rising heat, he wore a full three-piece suit of a white cloth so clean and fine that it looked almost like porcelain.

Frederic Leitz.

Eddie had not seen the Mossad file, but the Luxembourger matched the description Zane had given him on their journey from Egypt. In his youth, Leitz had been a member of the Luxembourg army before broadening his horizons beyond the tiny state by joining the French Foreign Legion. For the past twenty years, however, he had taken on a civilian role as an information broker and middleman; handling transactions for assorted far-right-wing organisations, if the Mossad were to be believed. He was apparently very good at what he did, since he had never been charged with any crime.

He took his personal security as seriously as his secrecy. Zane had told Eddie that their subject had a morning routine of enjoying a coffee and a glass of local orange and lemon juice at the café before returning to his villa. However, he was not doing so alone. He had arrived shadowed by two younger men, both with slight bulges under their clothing that to a trained eye were identifiable as handguns. One of the pair was at another table from where he could observe his patron and the surrounding square, while the other had stationed himself at the nearby fountain, keeping watch from behind its statue of St Andrew.

‘He also has another man at the villa,’ Zane told his temporary partner. ‘There is always at least one man guarding it. The villa itself has surveillance systems covering the main road above it and the jetty at the bottom of the cliff below.’

‘You know a lot about him,’ Eddie noted. ‘Been on Mossad’s radar for a while, has he?’

‘We take an interest in anyone connected to anti-Israeli organisations. But,’ Zane’s gaze flicked towards the broker, ‘so far Leitz has been smart and careful enough not to do anything that would justify direct action against him.’

‘Until now.’

‘That’s what we’re going to find out. If he really is working for these Nazis, then the Mossad
will
act. But first, we need confirmation.’

Eddie finished his own delicious citrus juice. ‘And how are you planning on getting it?’

‘If I can reach his computer, it doesn’t matter what security it has – I can still access it.’ He touched a small satchel on the table.

‘That’s what the bloke at Naples airport gave you? Some sort of hacking gizmo?’

‘A gift from the Mossad’s friends at the NSA,’ Zane told him. ‘All I have to do is plug it into his PC’s USB port, and it’ll take control of his system through a back door. He won’t even know anything has happened.’

‘So if he’s here, why aren’t you at his place doing this already?’

‘Those surveillance systems I mentioned? They’re very good. We can’t just jump over the fence.’

‘How are we supposed to get inside, then?’

Leitz finished his coffee and tossed some coins on to the table, then got up and left. The two bodyguards followed, smoothly filtering into positions behind him. Zane waited until they reached one of the piazza’s exits before rising. ‘That’s a good question. I’m hoping you’ll be able to help me find an answer. Come on.’

‘I remember this road,’ said Eddie as Zane followed Leitz’s BMW, keeping a few other cars between them. ‘Drove along it with Nina. It’s a bloody nightmare to get past anything.’ He looked out to the left across the glittering sea, then added: ‘Great views, though.’

The main westward route out of Amalfi was a narrow road halfway up the coastal cliffs, steep rock walls above and below. Despite the tight confines, the roadside was still home to numerous parked cars and wheelie bins belonging to locals, making overtaking almost impossible. Inevitably, this resulted in traffic jams; equally inevitably, this being Italy, the jams were accompanied by car horns and emotive gesticulation as arguments erupted over who would be forced to back up first.

Zane slowed the Lancia Delta as another knot of traffic built up ahead. A bus was coming the other way, forcing westbound vehicles to crawl along hard over against the cliff face. ‘Views here are expensive. Leitz paid a million euros for his villa, and that was over ten years ago.’

‘He’s made a few bob from what he does, then.’

The Israeli nodded. ‘His standard fee is twenty per cent. His clients are willing to pay that much, because he is able to keep their secrets.’

‘Even from Mossad? He must be worth the money, then.’

A cacophony of horns broke out as the bus found itself unable to squeeze past a car that had refused to pull all the way over. Zane brought the hatchback to a stop. After several seconds in which the jam remained unmoving, he drew in a slow, deep breath. ‘
Sav’lanut, areyh tes’eyer
 . . .’ he muttered.

‘What was that?’ Eddie asked.

The younger man hesitated before answering. ‘It was something Benjamin used to say to me. A lot, to begin with. It means “Patience, young lion.”’

‘Young lion? Was that what he called you?’

Zane nodded. ‘I had a nickname for him too.
Alter kocker
.’

‘What does that mean?’

The younger man appeared almost sheepish. ‘The nearest translation would be . . . “old fart”.’

‘Kids these days, no respect,’ Eddie said with a grin. ‘Sounds more like he was your dad than your boss.’

‘He
was
like a father to me,’ said Zane, with an insistence that surprised the Yorkshireman. ‘He trained me, he helped me become who I am today. Without his guidance, I would have been . . .’ He waved a hand as if trying to pluck the right word from the air. ‘
Nobody
. Just another aimless kid. He gave me a purpose. But . . .’ his cheek muscles tightened with barely suppressed emotion, ‘now he is gone.’

‘I’m sorry.’

The Israeli gave a small nod of thanks, then his expression became curious. ‘In the hotel, in Egypt: when I told you Ben had been my mentor, you said that without him, I wouldn’t have been
who
I am. Not
where
I am. Why did you phrase it like that?’

‘Because I know what you’re feeling right now.’

‘How?’

‘You said you’d read my file. Figure it out.’

The Israeli’s smooth brow creased slightly in thought. ‘Your commander, in the SAS . . .’

‘Yeah,’ said Eddie. ‘I know what it’s like to lose someone who . . . who made you what you are, someone who kicked your arse into line when you needed it most. Especially when they were taken away from you by being shot in the back.’

‘That part wasn’t in your file,’ said Zane.

‘I didn’t get time to do any paperwork afterwards. Seeing as I was wanted for murder.’

‘You went after the man who did it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you kill him?’

‘Yes, but . . . it wasn’t revenge. I was trying to find out who he was working for, but he pulled a gun on me. I didn’t have a choice.’

‘I already know who Rasche is working for,’ Zane said, his face becoming cold once more. ‘When I find him . . . I won’t try to capture him.
Ayin tachat ayin
.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It’s from the Talmud. “An eye for an eye.”’

Eddie nodded. ‘I’m not Jewish, but I can totally get behind that.’

Zane seemed about to say more, but a shrill bleat from the car behind told him the traffic was moving again. ‘Can you see Leitz?’

‘Yeah, whenever I bang my head. No, he’s still there,’ Eddie added, seeing that his companion did not share his sense of humour. ‘In front of that Ape.’

‘What ape?’ Zane scanned the road. ‘I didn’t know they had monkeys here.’

The Englishman laughed. ‘Not a bloody monkey! The little three-wheeler van, there.’ He pointed ahead. Behind Leitz’s black 7 Series was a tiny pickup truck, whining along at the head of a stream of blue smoke from its puny two-stroke engine. The Apes, in both three- and four-wheeled form, had been a constant source of amusement on his previous visit, as the diminutive utility vehicles always seemed laden with far more than they could possibly carry.

‘Then why didn’t you just call it a van?’

‘Because that’s its bloody name, a Piaggio Ape. Anyway, we haven’t lost him. How far to his villa?’

‘About two kilometres.’

Eddie let the rest of the journey pass in silence, watching the beautiful scenery glide by. It only took five minutes, even with stoppages, to reach their destination. ‘There it is,’ Zane announced.

The BMW pulled across to the top of a driveway on the left, an electric gate rolling out of its way. The drive dropped away steeply beyond it, giving Eddie a glimpse of a red-tiled rooftop below. Leitz’s driver went through the barrier the moment he had enough clearance, the gate immediately reversing direction to close behind the car.

‘Don’t draw any attention to us,’ said Zane as the Delta passed the entrance and continued along the rising road.

‘I wasn’t going to fucking lean out and take a picture,’ Eddie shot back. He did, however, pay close attention to their surroundings. ‘He’s not short of cameras himself, though. I see three – no, four, at least.’

‘Those are just the ones we’re supposed to see,’ Zane said ominously. ‘According to our information, he has thermal detectors and motion trackers as well as CCTV.’

Eddie looked back as the road curved around a headland, giving him a slightly better view of the villa. From what he could see through the high metal fence, the house was built directly into the rock of a small promontory overlooking the sea. He also spotted more cameras. ‘Okay, so going in from the road’s out. Did you say there was a dock down below?’

Zane nodded. ‘I’ll pull over so we can see.’

That turned out to be easier said than done, but eventually he found a space. Zane collected a pair of binoculars, then the two men went to the low wall along the edge of the road to get their first clear view back at Leitz’s villa.

Eddie immediately saw that it was worth the money the Luxembourger had paid for it, and probably more. The large three-storey building was painted a soft sandy orange. Several windows on the upper floors had balconies overlooking the ocean, and a patio ran the width of the lowest level, chairs and shaded tables set out along it – enough seats for at least a dozen people. ‘Is he planning a barbie?’ he wondered aloud.

Zane was more interested in the flight of steps that zig-zagged down the cliff from the patio to a jetty at sea level. A suited man in sunglasses stood at the bottom, looking for all the world like a doorman expecting guests. ‘Down there: one of his guards. If there’s one at the dock, that only leaves two watching the house.’

‘Think you might need to check your intel.’ Eddie could see another two figures at the top of the drive . . . and a third had just emerged from the house on to the patio. None were Leitz. ‘Your man’s got visitors,’ he added as the gate opened again. A large black Mercedes with dark windows negotiated the tight turn from the road.

The two guards watched as it descended the steep slope, the gate sliding closed behind. A figure in white stepped into the sunlight. ‘There’s Leitz,’ said Zane. The broker waited on the villa’s pink marble steps for the new arrival. The Mercedes pulled up, its uniformed driver getting out to open the rear door.

The passenger emerged. From this distance, Eddie couldn’t see much beyond that he was male, grey-haired and somewhat overweight – but Zane had a much better view through his field glasses. ‘Sz
ő
ko!’

‘Bless you,’ said the Englishman.

The Mossad agent was too fixated on the scene to acknowledge the joke. ‘No, Zoltan Sz
ő
ko – he is one of Leitz’s clients. He is Hungarian, a businessman with connections to the country’s biggest anti-Semitic party. He is openly anti-Israeli; we have been watching him.’ The young man lowered the binoculars. ‘Why is he here?’

‘Maybe he wants to work on his tan.’

‘That’s not what I mean. People like this do all their business at a distance; they never meet in person.’

Sz
ő
ko and Leitz shook hands, then the Luxembourger guided his guest into the villa. ‘Well they are now,’ said Eddie. ‘Must be a special occasion.’

‘The Mossad has nightmares about the occasions these people think are special.’ Zane noticed something at sea level. ‘Sz
ő
ko isn’t the only visitor.’

The guard below advanced to the end of the jetty. Numerous pleasure craft were cruising along the coast in both directions, but one was heading towards the private dock. Zane locked the binoculars on to it. ‘It’s Takis Metaxes!’

‘I’m guessing he’s on Mossad’s shit-list too?’

Zane nodded. ‘Another rich businessman who likes to put his spare cash into neo-Nazi organisations. Only he’s Greek, not Hungarian.’

‘There must be more coming – he’s got plenty of chairs set out.’ The Englishman watched as the motor launch came alongside the jetty, one of its crew tossing a mooring line to the waiting man. ‘Maybe Leitz is hosting a
Klaus
barbie.’

‘Something big is going on,’ said Zane. He regarded the house thoughtfully. ‘We have to get inside.’