‘I only need one archaeologist,’ said Kroll, unmoved. He gestured at the shell-shocked Banna. ‘He has proved that he is… cooperative. He will take us to the spring, because he knows now what will happen if he refuses. A difference of one degree of latitude would place it in northern Iran, yes?’
Banna did not reply. Rasche twisted his arm behind his back. ‘Answer him!’
‘Yes,’ said the Egyptian in a weak, tremulous voice. ‘That is where it must be.’
Kroll nodded. ‘Very well. You will work out the exact location, while I contact Leitz and arrange transportation.’ He straightened, addressing his officers. ‘We must be ready to move out as soon as possible. Make the preparations. The Mossad may already be on their way.’ He paused, glancing at Zane as if only just remembering that he was there, then continued issuing orders in German.
Walther summoned several men from outside. One was assigned to escort Nina back to her cell, another taking Banna to Kroll’s residence. Two more picked up the battered Israeli, far from gently. Nina took one last despairing look back at Macy as her friend’s body was wrapped in plastic sheeting, then she was forced from the bunker.
‘Those fuckers,’ she hissed. ‘I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all…’
Zane spat blood on to the ground. ‘I don’t think you’ll get the chance.’
‘Why not?’
‘I speak German; I know what Kroll’s planning.’ He drew in a pained breath. ‘They’re going to have a big rally tonight, to psych everyone up to move out… by executing two enemies of the Reich.’
He didn’t have to say any more for Nina to know they were the Mossad agent… and herself.
25
Eddie surveyed the steepening hillside above. He and Julieta had intermittently crossed the narrow-gauge railway as they headed deeper into the Enklave, the line zigzagging laboriously up the slope. They were over two miles from where they had come through the fence, but the railway had covered a much greater distance in an effort to make the gradient manageable for locomotives. Anyone travelling uphill by train still had a long way to go. There were five more legs of track above their position.
A more direct route was possible on foot — once they cleared the current obstacle. ‘Are you sure this is safe?’ he asked his guide.
Julieta nodded. ‘Roland and I have crossed this before. There will not be anyone watching.’
‘I wasn’t asking if it was being watched. I meant, is the bloody thing going to collapse underneath us?’
Before them was an old wooden trestle bridge, spanning a rocky rent in the hillside about two hundred feet across and sixty deep. The railway only had a gauge of two feet, less than half that of a standard track, and the bridge itself was little wider, with no railings. The sleepers were close enough together to walk on, but had been exposed to the elements for a very long time.
‘It has stood here for over a hundred years, so there is no reason why it would fall down now.’
‘Believe me, when I’m around, stuff falls down all the time. Or blows up.’ He completed his sweep of the landscape; nobody was in sight. ‘But if we’ve got to go across it…’
‘It is the fastest way,’ she assured him. ‘If you are worried, I can go first?’
‘Nah, that’s okay,’ he said, heading for the trestle. ‘I’ll be all right. If I think light thoughts…’ he added under his breath.
His concerns about the bridge’s integrity turned out to be, if not unfounded, at least exaggerated, however. It did not take long to cross — though he had a few unsettling moments along the way as old wood crunched under his weight, splinters dropping into the void.
‘Okay,’ he said with relief as he reached solid ground, Julieta following, ‘which way now?’ He looked along the line, seeing that it looped tightly back over itself to begin the next uphill leg several hundred yards distant, where a small bridge crossed above a cutting.
‘That way.’ She pointed up the slope. ‘There is a path to a little ruin. Roland took me there to see the houses in the middle of the Enklave.’
‘How close did you get to them?’
‘A kilometre and a half, maybe? He did not take me nearer because he said it would not be safe if I got caught.’
‘For him, or for you?’
She sucked in her lower lip. ‘For him, I thought. But after today, I don’t know…’
‘You don’t have to get any closer with me. Once I’ve had a look at the place, I’ll go in on my own.’
‘No, no,’ she said. ‘I have to find Roland, and tell him about Volker.’
‘Okay,’ Eddie said with reluctance, ‘but when we get up there, stay behind me and do what I tell you. I’ll keep you safe.’
They set off up the stony path. ‘So you have done this before?’ Julieta asked. ‘Are you a soldier?’
‘Used to be. I work for the United Nations now.’
‘What do you do? You said your wife was an archaeologist — are you one too?’
He laughed, surprising her. ‘Nah. Nina’d love it if I was, but once she starts going on about three-thousand-year-old winnet pickers or whatever, I tune out. My job’s basically to keep her out of trouble.’ His mood became more sombre. ‘Haven’t done that great at it recently.’
‘I am sorry,’ Julieta said quietly.
‘Don’t worry about it. Right now, I just want to find her and make sure she’s okay.’
‘And… if she is not?’
‘Then I’m going to make someone regret it.’
She was noticeably less talkative for the rest of the ascent. At one point they crossed a hairpin loop at the end of a leg of track, before leaving the railway behind as they approached the top of the hill.
‘The ruin is over there,’ Julieta announced. ‘By those trees.’
Eddie saw foliage against the darkening sky. ‘Okay. Stay low.’
He dropped to a crouch as they reached the crest of the hill. The ruin, a half-collapsed stone hut, was fifty feet away. Ahead, the landscape flattened out into a plateau, gradually rising to meet the steeper foothills of the Andes. Most of it seemed to be farmland, lying empty during the winter before planting season.
‘All right,’ he said once he was certain that the Enklave’s occupants were not patrolling this part of their domain. ‘Follow me.’
He quickly reached the derelict structure, the young Argentinian scurrying behind. A collapsed beam marked an easy route up to what remained of the flat roof; he clambered along it, then at the top dropped to a crawl and moved to get his first clear view of the heart of the Enklave.
Initially it seemed nothing special; just a large farm surrounded by fields. But closer observation told him that more went on here than growing crops. The heart of the complex, about a mile to the west, looked more like a military camp.
There was a set of binoculars in his gear; he took them out as Julieta moved alongside him. ‘Roland told me he lives in one of those buildings,’ she said, pointing.
It snapped ten times closer in Eddie’s view as he brought up the binoculars. It was unmistakably a barracks: plain concrete outer walls, which he knew from his own military experience would make the interior cold and damp in winter and a sweatbox in summer. Yellow bulbs glowed behind small windows, and as he watched, a young man by the door tossed away the flaring stub of a cigarette and went inside, giving him a glimpse of metal-framed beds. ‘Doesn’t look like he gets much privacy.’
‘No, he said he has to share with twenty men. The first time he told me, I laughed, because I did not believe him. Who would live like that?’
‘People trying to start an army.’ He surveyed the other buildings. More barracks, garages and workshops, and a white-painted structure that had the look of a medical centre. It was larger than he would have expected, though — for such a small community, the odds of more than a handful of people at once needing hospital treatment were slim — and the lights within suggested that it was in continuous use. What was going on inside?