‘Was that necessary?’ Vlok asked, indicating the unconscious guard.
‘We’ll discuss that later. Right now we’ve got a bomb here that’s due to go off in,’ Graham paused to look at his watch, ‘eleven minutes.’
‘Can’t you defuse it?’ Vlok asked.
‘It’s booby-trapped. We don’t have the time or the equipment to deal with it,’ Whitlock told him. ‘We’ve got to get the car off the premises as quickly as possible.’
Graham slid behind the wheel to hotwire the ignition.
‘There must be a secluded spot somewhere around here,’ he said without looking up. ‘We can leave it there and let it blow.’
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Paluzzi said. ‘The vibration could trigger off an avalanche on one of the surrounding mountains. Perhaps more than one avalanche. We can’t risk it.’
The engine spluttered then died. Graham cursed angrily, then reached under the wheel in another attempt to start the car.
‘What are we going to do?’ Vlok asked anxiously.
‘Water, that’s the only answer,’ Whitlock replied after a moment’s thought.
‘Water?’ Vlok said with a frown.
‘A gorge, a lake, even a swimming-pool would do. If we can immerse the car in water, it’ll short-circuit the wiring in the bomb and that would stop it from exploding.’
‘There is a lake not far from here,’ Vlok said. ‘It’s very small.’
‘How far?’
Vlok shrugged helplessly. ‘A five-minute drive, about that.’
‘Did you hear that?’ Whitlock asked Graham.
‘I heard. We’ll get going as soon as I can get this started.’
The engine coughed into life. Graham revved the engine, then gestured for them to get into the car.
‘What have you in mind?’ Whitlock asked.
‘You’ll see. Now get in.’ Graham turned to Paluzzi. ‘You guys tell the Colonel what’s happening.’
‘How will you get back?’ Marco asked.
‘I’ve got that covered,’ Graham replied, closing the door.
‘Good luck,’ Paluzzi said, hitting the roof with the palm of his hand.
Graham reversed out of the space, then spun the wheel violently and sped towards the red and white boom gate
‘What’s the plan?’ Whitlock asked from the back seat.
‘There’s a police car parked outside the main gate. It can give us an escort to the lake. We’ll get there in half the time.’
‘In theory,’ Vlok said.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Graham asked, glancing at Vlok in the rearview mirror.
‘The quickest route to the Lottersee, that’s the name of the lake, is on the old Berne–Thun road. It’s only used by lorries now that the N6 has been built. It’s a narrow, twisting road and overtaking is virtually impossible.’
‘It gets better by the minute,’ Graham muttered, then trod lightly on the brake as they neared the boom-gate.
‘I’m not saying we’ll encounter any traffic,’ Vlok said, trying to appease Graham. ‘Most of the lorries use the N6 anyway. But it’s best to be warned.’
Graham stopped the car but kept it idling. Vlok told the guard to raise the boom gate It was raised and Graham drove through. He pulled up beside the police car. Vlok got out, identified himself to the uniformed policeman behind the wheel, and told him about the bomb in the boot of the Quattro. The policeman listened in disbelief, then leaned over and pushed open the passenger door. Vlok got in beside him. The policeman started up the engine.
‘Wait,’ Graham shouted at the policeman above the drone of the siren. He turned to Whitlock.
‘Out. If I’m going to drive this baby into the lake, I don’t want to be carrying any passengers.’
Whitlock nodded, then climbed out of the Quattro and got into the police car. Graham gave the policeman a thumbs-up sign. The police car pulled away in a screech of burning rubber. Graham glanced at the dashboard clock. Eight minutes. He put the Quattro into gear and sped after the police car. They joined the N6 and kept to the fast lane, forcing the traffic in front of them to give way. When the police car suddenly swung across into the middle lane Graham was quick to follow it, forcing a Seat Malaga to brake sharply behind him. The driver hooted angrily.
The police car then took a gap in the slow lane and indicated that it would be leaving the motorway at the next turn-off.
Thirty yards away. Graham cursed under his breath. He couldn’t get into the slow lane, there was a tailback of traffic behind the police car. He waited until he was only a few yards away from the turn-off then accelerated sharply and cut across the slow lane into the slip road. Brakes screeched behind him, followed by the sickening crunch of clashing metal. He didn’t look back. The cars hadn’t been travelling very fast. There shouldn’t be much damage. A crumpled fender. A shattered light. Nothing more. He braked at the end of the turn-off, changed down into second, and followed the police car on to the old Berne–Thun road.
He saw what Vlok had meant about overtaking being virtually impossible. The single lane on each side of the road was narrow, restricting visibility. To the left was a sheer drop of two hundred feet, to the right a towering rock face He followed the police car around a sharp bend in the road and groaned in dismay at the pantechnicon twenty yards ahead of them. The pantechnicon disappeared around another bend. He glanced anxiously at the clock. He had six minutes left. He wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead and turned the car into the bend. The police car was already sitting on the pantechnicon’s tail, waiting for an opportunity to pass. It swayed out from behind the truck but the policeman couldn’t risk overtaking on one of the blind corners.
Graham bit his lip nervously. They would never reach the lake at this rate. He knew he would have to take the initiative. He had no choice.
He gritted his teeth and pulled out from behind the police car. He passed it. Another bend loomed ahead. The police car dropped back, giving him the chance to tuck in behind the pantechnicon. Graham knew it would only waste more time. He had to get past. The Quattro and the pantechnicon turned into the bend together. The pantechnicon driver saw the lorry first and desperately tried to wave Graham back. Then Graham saw the lorry. He looked behind him. He wouldn’t be able to drop back behind the pantechnicon, the distance was too great. It left him with no option. Evasive action. He swung the wheel sharply to the right, missing the lorry by inches. The lorry swerved to the left, clipping the side of the pantechnicon. The Quattro struck the mountain side-on and a protrusion of rock ripped a jagged gash in both doors before Graham managed to swing the car back on to the road. He glanced in his rearview mirror. Both the lorry and the pantechnicon had stopped. The police car didn’t stop.
Graham looked at the clock. Three minutes. And still no sign of the lake. He had already decided to send the car over the edge of the road if he hadn’t seen the lake within the next minute. Avalanche or not, he wasn’t going to kill himself for some terrorist’s bomb. He was already contemplating where to ditch the car when he saw the signpost LOTTERSEE-EINGANG 2 km. It was still going to be tight. Then he saw the lake to his left. Its tranquillity reminded him of Lake Champlain. But it was only a fraction of the size.
The road descended rapidly. He followed another signpost on to a dirt road which led him to the lake. He couldn’t drive the car into the water, there was no guarantee that the boot would be submerged before the bomb detonated. He scanned his surroundings. A wooden jetty fifty yards away. It would be perfect. He spun the wheel violently and drove to the jetty. It was deserted. The whole area seemed to be deserted.