“Well, I guess so,” said Ben, coming around the front of the truck with Dana and Randall. “Not many highways out in these parts of the jungle.” They all laughed together. They were one happy family again.
“Speaking of Germans,” asked Dane, “are any following you?”
“Not that I know of. I stopped back a ways and listened and heard nothing but explosions. By the way, the last I saw of the Fortress, it was the Amazon’s first volcano.” They all stood there amazed at Hugo.
“Volcano?” blurted Tim. “What do you mean a volcano?”
Hugo grinned. “I’ll tell you about it on the way back. Right now I simply want to say hi to Dana and Randall and relish the moment.”
Dana was the first to notice Hugo’s bandage. “You are hurt,” she said, stepping over to give him a hand.
“I took a bit of shrapnel but it’s only a flesh wound. I’ll be okay.”
“No. We have to take care of that now. We don’t want it to get infected out here.” Dana turned to get the medical kit.
“But I do have a bit of a surprise for all of you,” added Hugo.
“Besides a ride home?” asked Tim.
“Wait ‘til you see this,” said Hugo, leading the group to the rear of the truck. He unlatched and dropped the tailgate and pulled back the black tarp. “Well, what do you think?” He was smiling ear to ear.
Every eye in the group looked into the bed of the truck. They were stunned. Their mouths hung open as if they saw Adolph Hitler himself emerge. There in the back of the truck were crate upon crate with German markings. One crate was open and its contents spilled on the truck bed. Gold bars, hundreds of them.
“Well?” asked Hugo again, almost laughing out loud. “Cat gotcha tongue?”
“Holy Mother of God!” cried Dana.
“My God!” cried Dane.
Ben and Tim stood there speechless. “We are the proud owners of a butt-load of gold bullion,” explained Hugo.
Dane was the first to ask what everyone wanted to know but couldn’t get the question out. “Hugo, how did you get this? There must be millions here.”
Hugo smiled broadly, “At today’s prices, maybe billions. Those Germans had it all packed and ready for me when I left.” Hugo looked at Dane. “When we split up, I found my way down to the power station where I set charges on their power equipment. Then I made my way back up to the hangar level where you guys had left me a mess.” Dane smiled and nodded his head. “Anyway, I was able to traverse the burning hangar level. That’s where I got this,” he said, tapping his wounded leg. “I kept moving and found the motor pool. I tried to take one of the jeeps there but they were all blocked in.
“All that was left in the clear was this truck. I started the old girl up and tried my best to get her up to speed and get back to you. Even though I was following a pretty good trail, the damned truck would hardly move. I jacked it into low-range six-wheeled drive and she trudged on down the trail. So here I was blasting down this jungle trail running from Germans, a volcano behind me, God knows what in front of me and going only about five miles an hour. Talk about frustration! I could run faster than this, except for my leg.
“I was on the road for a good twenty minutes before I decided to stop to see what was going on. That’s when I found the truck was filled with gold bullion ready to transfer to the United States.”
“So the truck was already loaded?” asked Dane.
“Yep. But I didn’t know until I stopped,” answered Hugo. “Imagine what a surprise I got!”
“Holy cow,” Ben grinned. “What a story.”
“I’ll say,” added Randall.
“Well, let’s not wait around until the Germans track us down. Let’s get moving.”
“You don’t have to say it twice,” said Dane as Dana and Randall jumped into the rear of the truck. Ben and Tim joined them. Dane climbed into the cab with Hugo. Tecal sent his man ahead on foot to find the earlier scout and lead the way back home.
Hugo started the truck. “Home, James,” shouted Dane.
“Yes, sir, Boss.” The truck lurched forward down the jungle path toward home.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
The telephone rang in the offices of International Investments. Albert Jackson was in his office packing his personal papers. His transfer was to take effect today. Within seconds a stark-faced Dieter Blocher burst into his office out of breath.
“Mein Gott! Der Führer ist tot!” he cried. Jackson leaped to his feet.
“What?” he exclaimed.
“The Führer is dead and Fortress Alpha has been destroyed. Everyone was killed except for a few that were captured. I just heard from Danzler in Rio. We are finished!” Blocher was uncharacteristically upset.
Jackson wiped his face with his hand. Blocher was right. They were finished unless he could activate the emergency plan. “Dieter, send a message to Danzler. Tell him we are opening emergency Protocol A immediately. We will evacuate within the hour.”
“Yes, sir,” said Dieter, still trying to calm down.
Jackson’s mind was racing. What happened? How could this happen? A myriad of questions swirled through his head. But he couldn’t afford to spend time on such frivolous antics now. He must save what he could of the operation and above all save himself.
“Gather the transaction documents and place them in the armored travel case. Take the rest of the files to the basement and burn them in the incinerator. Nothing must be left for anyone to find out what we were doing.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Blocher, now actively trying to calm himself. He raced off to do his duty. Jackson got up and went to the wall safe behind the original Norman Rockwell painting on his office wall. He opened the safe and removed twenty packets of one hundred dollar bills and a large envelope containing more than four hundred million dollars of gold stocks. He placed the money and stocks in his briefcase and closed the safe. Before he closed his case, he placed two packets of money in his inside coat pocket. He needed some ready cash.
Jackson closed his briefcase and sat back down. He pulled a key from his pocket. He stopped for a second and stared ahead. He never thought he would have to use this key. He stood, strode out of his office and down to the basement. Blocher was burning documents in the incinerator room. Jackson walked past the room and placed his key in a vault-like steel door at the end of the hall.
“Dieter, I will be in the armament room,” he yelled back down the hall.
“Yes, sir,” came the reply from Blocher.
Jackson opened the heavy door. The light turned on automatically. It was a small vault built directly into the foundation of the building. Inside it housed enough arms and ammunition to service a small army. There were assault rifles, handguns and a variety of explosives and heavy machine guns. Jackson perused the gun cabinets for a second and then opened the locker containing handguns. He turned and picked up a leather satchel on the floor and placed it on the table in the middle of the room. He carefully selected four 9mm Glock handguns from the locker and placed them in the bag. Then he placed six boxes of 9mm ammunition in the bag. After thinking for a second, he turned to another cabinet and removed five four-by-four blocks of C-4 explosives in the satchel as well. Dieter walked into the room.
“Have you finished burning the records?” asked Jackson.
“Yes, sir, and the case has been packed as well. We are ready.”
Jackson reached back into the handgun cabinet and handed Blocher another Glock and a silencer. “Put the silencer on. We may have to use that and I do not want to cause a stir.” Jackson reached back into the cabinet and placed a Walther PPK and silencer into his pocket.