‘Yeah, I… I got it,’ Zane replied. ‘I think… maybe the easy route is a good idea.’
‘No fucking kidding.’
They recovered their breath, then started to climb again — along Eddie’s suggested path. The Israeli’s ascent was considerably more cautious than before. They soon drew level with the patio. Voices warned them that more of Leitz’s guests had arrived and were enjoying the view, though fortunately across the sea rather than down the cliff.
They continued up to the next floor. Eddie shimmied across until he reached a little balcony with an open door and peered warily into the room beyond. The contrast between the bright sunlight outside and the shade within limited what he could discern, but he immediately picked out the glowing rectangle of a computer monitor on a desk. He climbed on to the balcony and moved to the door, back against its frame as he looked inside.
Nobody was there. As his eyes adjusted, he made out several tall bookshelves, their contents a mix of large leather-bound ledgers and black box files. Lined up beside the monitor were a laser printer and three telephones, one of which he recognised as a scrambler unit. Leitz apparently liked to keep certain conversations private. Everything was fastidiously neat, even the small amount of paperwork perfectly aligned with the desk’s edges.
A closed door led to the rest of the villa. ‘Okay, it’s clear,’ he said as he entered. Zane clambered on to the balcony behind him. ‘You all right?’
The Israeli was still breathing heavily. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ he replied. He went to the desk, seemingly examining the papers on it — but Eddie noticed him holding one hand just above the polished surface, fingers slightly splayed. They were trembling; only a little, but enough for the Englishman to spot.
‘It’s okay to be shaken up,’ Eddie told him quietly.
Zane hurriedly closed his fist. ‘What?’
‘You were seeing if your hand was shaking.’
‘I was checking Leitz’s mail,’ the younger man insisted. He opened the satchel. ‘Watch the door.’
Eddie shrugged, knowing all too well how reluctant men in their twenties — and beyond — were to reveal weakness. He listened at the entrance. Indistinct voices reached him, but none were close. ‘We’re okay.’
Zane nodded, then took a small device from his bag and plugged it into a USB port on Leitz’s computer. ‘How long will that take?’ Eddie asked.
‘Not long, I hope.’ He watched the screen — while making another surreptitious check on his hand. ‘Okay,’ he said after thirty seconds, reclaiming the USB device. ‘I can access everything on his computer—’
Eddie raised a hand in warning. ‘Someone’s coming.’
Zane scurried to join the Yorkshireman as he flattened himself against the wall behind the door. A conversation in German grew louder outside. For a moment, Eddie thought the approaching men were going to enter the office… but then they continued past, going down a flight of stairs.
‘One of them was Leitz,’ Zane whispered. ‘He said, “Now that everyone is here, we can start.”’
‘Start what?’
‘That’s what I want to find out.’ The Mossad agent produced a compact and rather ugly matt-black handgun from his satchel.
Eddie eyed the weapon, an Israeli SP-21 Barak. ‘Don’t suppose you brought one for me?’
‘Sorry.’ He flicked off the safety. ‘Leitz probably has a weapon hidden in here.’
‘And you’re going to give me time to look for it, right?’ the Englishman said sarcastically as Zane opened the door and peeked out, then exited. Annoyed, he followed.
They emerged on to a landing running around three sides of a spacious marble-floored hall. Sunlight from the patio’s entrance gleamed off the stone — revealing growing shadows inside the bright rectangles. Eddie and Zane both ducked as two elderly men entered the hall, but they didn’t go towards the staircase, instead heading for a set of dark wooden doors.
‘That guy’s American,’ Eddie muttered, overhearing snippets of discussion as they passed below.
Zane nodded. ‘From Florida. His name is Thomson Holmes — another rich man, and another Jew-hater.’
‘Thomson Holmes? Sounds like a property developer.’
‘He is.’ They exchanged looks, then Zane continued: ‘The man he was with is English. He’s a member of your aristocracy. Charles Hertsmore, also known as the eighth Baron Winderhithe. His grandfather was a personal friend of Adolf Hitler before the war.’
‘Apples don’t fall far from the tree, then.’ Eddie watched in disgust as the pair went into the next room, then tilted his head. ‘I can still hear them talking. Where’s it coming from?’
‘Through there.’ At the end of the landing, directly above the double doors, was another entrance. It was ajar. Keeping low, Zane moved to it and cautiously looked through before gesturing for Eddie to join him.
The large room beyond was a mixture of library and lounge. The door opened on to a narrow gallery overlooking the main floor. Windows opposite looked out along the coast, though the focus of attention was not the view but a big flat-screen television. A camera had been mounted on top of its bezel.
Zane crept to the edge of the gallery to look down between the wooden railings. Eddie joined him, getting his first view of Leitz’s assembled guests. All were male, well into middle age or older. Even though they were chatting, there was a definite lack of humour amongst the group. Everyone present took themselves very seriously indeed.
The agent’s gaze flicked from one man to another. ‘I know them all,’ he whispered to Eddie. ‘They’re some of Leitz’s biggest clients. There isn’t one of them worth less than fifty million US dollars.’ A hard edge entered his voice. ‘And they’re all known anti-Semites, supporters of fascism.’
‘Didn’t bring a hand grenade, did you?’ Eddie asked. ‘One bomb chucked down there’d be doing the world a big favour.’
The group below looked around as someone else entered the library. White suit, white hair, rectangular glasses: Leitz. ‘Gentlemen, good day,’ he said in clipped, accented English. ‘Now that Mr Haas is here,’ he gestured to the man who had arrived by boat while Eddie and Zane were scaling the cliff, ‘we can begin. If you will take your seats?’
The dozen men found places facing the screen. Leitz lowered blinds, then turned to the TV. ‘Computer, screen on,’ he said. It came to life, the giant display replicating what was on the monitor in the office. ‘Computer, conference.’ A window opened in response to his voice command, showing the dashboard of an encrypted videoconferencing program. He took up position beside the television. ‘As I am sure you all know, there have recently been changes in the ranks of the so-called global elite. The disappearances, and presumed deaths, of the Bull brothers, Rudolf Meerkrieger and Travis Warden, as well as several others in their circle, have created a power vacuum at the highest levels of commerce and politics.’
‘Oops,’ said Eddie under his breath as Leitz continued speaking.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Zane.
‘The people he’s talking about? Basically the secret rulers of the world?’
‘They are? What about them?’
‘Me and Nina kind of… blew them up. In a volcano.’
The Israeli regarded him in disbelief. ‘A volcano.’
‘What can I say? That’s how we roll. Although don’t blame us for whatever’s going on here,’ he added hurriedly. ‘We were in the middle of saving the world, so we were kind of preoccupied.’
Zane waved him to silence. ‘This has created a unique opportunity,’ the middleman was saying, ‘for those with a certain vision for the world. You and I all share that vision, as does my client.’ A chime from the TV, where a flashing message announced an incoming call. ‘He is offering you a way to ensure that you will not only see this new world come into being, but also enjoy it for a very long time.’ Leitz stepped back from the television and said, ‘Computer, accept.’ The dashboard disappeared, replaced by a live feed. ‘Gentlemen, I present to you: SS-Obersturmbannführer Erich Kroll.’