Jones pointed at the trailer. ‘I’ve labelled the crates two through five, based on priority. If we’re forced to carry our payload, that’s the order of importance. Two goes first; five goes last. Understand?’
Huber shook his head. ‘Why two through five? Why not one through four?’
‘Why?’ Jones asked. ‘Because Kaiser is priority number one. Not the crates, not your guns, not even yourselves. If Kaiser dies, this mission is a failure. Is that clear?’
They grunted and nodded tentatively.
But that wasn’t good enough for Payne. Hoping to drive home the point, he used the same motivational technique he had used when he had recruited Collins. ‘Guys, it’s pretty simple: if Kaiser dies, none of you will get paid. That means a week of hauling, guarding and sleeping in the woods for nothing. On the other hand, if you help him survive, I see a shitload of money headed your way. I’m talking about a one followed by a bunch of zeroes, just for doing your job. Is there some risk involved? Of course there is. But you knew that going in.’
Payne took a moment to meet the gaze of every man, making each of them feel they were the most important part of the team. ‘Before we proceed any further, I want you to answer a simple question for me. Your response will help me decide if you want to continue with this mission or if you want to quit here and now.’ He paused for effect. ‘Which sounds better to you: a huge pile of cash or unemployment? I know that sounds cold, but let’s be honest, that’s the choice you have to make.’
Not surprisingly, everyone voted for the money.
‘Good!’ Payne applauded. ‘Now that everyone’s on board, let’s hand out some duties. Collins, you’re in charge of the ATV. Your job is to get to the cableway as quickly as possible. That doesn’t mean I want you to run over tourists. It simply means I want you to keep moving if you have the opportunity. If you’re forced to stop, do not abandon the vehicle. You’re the driver, not a foot soldier. We’ll clear the path for you. Understand?’
Collins nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
Payne studied the other three men. Based on body language alone, he could tell Huber was higher on the totem pole than Lange or Richter. He pointed at him. ‘How’s your German?’
‘Flawless,’ Huber answered.
‘Then you’re our lead dog. You’re setting the pace. If we come across a situation – tourists, guides, whatever – I want you to handle it peacefully. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Payne looked at Lange. ‘You’re his understudy. If he gets delayed, you become the lead dog until he’s able to resume his post. Our goal is to keep moving. Our excuse is Kaiser’s health. If anyone questions our urgency, that’s what you need to stress. He’s our ticket to freedom.’
‘What about me?’ Richter demanded. He was the largest of Kaiser’s men, but looked the dumbest. For some reason, he perpetually had a look of puzzlement on his face.
‘Don’t worry,’ Payne assured him. ‘I have a special job for you. Probably the most important job of all. You’re in charge of the trailer. If it gets stuck, I want you to free it. If the crates start to slide off, I want you to fix the straps. And if someone tries to examine the cargo, I want you to growl at them like a junkyard dog. Do you think you can handle that?’
Richter started barking. ‘I can do that like a champ!’
Payne fought the urge to smile. ‘Glad to hear it. Any questions?’
Huber raised his hand again. ‘What’s your job?’
‘I’m in charge of security. I’ll keep an eye on the woods from the back. If I see any problems, I’ll let you know asap.’
Huber pointed at Jones. ‘And what about you?’
Jones wiped his nose with his sleeve. ‘I’m the token black guy. If the cops show up, I’ll make sure they chase me instead of you.’
‘Are you serious?’ asked Richter.
Jones rolled his eyes. Some people had no sense of humour.
37
Heidi didn’t know what was going on, but she knew Ulster was hiding something. She could tell from the way he stammered every time she asked him a question about his visit to the King’s House on Schachen. He had the same reaction when she asked him about Ludwig; even simple questions about his interest in the subject matter seemed to cause him a great deal of stress. First Ulster would blush, then he would stumble around like a politician trying to evade a scandal, then he would try to change the subject.
In many ways, she found his behaviour endearing. He simply refused to lie and was willing to do just about anything to avoid it, including locking himself in Ludwig’s private bathroom where he had remained for nearly fifteen minutes. After a while, she realized she needed to change her approach. If Ulster wasn’t willing to talk about his visit, maybe she could convince him to talk about something else that would eventually get him to reveal small pieces of the puzzle.
But first, she had to lure him out.
‘Take as long as you need,’ she said through the bathroom door. ‘I’m pretty tired, so I’m heading upstairs to the Turkish Hall. I’ll be resting on one of the couches if you want to find me.’
Ulster replied a few seconds later. ‘Is that permitted?’
‘Is what permitted?’
‘Sitting on Ludwig’s furniture.’
She fought her urge to smile. ‘I won’t tell if you won’t tell.’
He opened the door a crack, just wide enough to make eye contact. ‘Rest assured, my dear. Your secret is safe with me.’
A few minutes later, the two of them were reclining on the lavish couches that lined the walls of the opulent room. Ulster stared at the gold fountain in the middle of the hall, admiring its handcrafted beauty as water trickled from one level to the next until it splashed into the tiny pool on the bottom. The relaxing sound took him to another place, one far from the stress of his everyday life, which was why it had been installed there to begin with.
‘I feel like a king,’ he said playfully.
‘And I your queen,’ she replied.
Ulster laughed loudly. Even though he housed some of the most spectacular artefacts ever discovered, he never got to enjoy them in this fashion. He could touch them, and study them, and admire them all he wanted, but he couldn’t lounge on them. To a historian, this was an extra-special treat – tasting the life of the man he was researching. It gave him the context he normally lacked when he delved into the mysteries of the past.
Heidi noticed the satisfied smile on his face. She hoped that meant his guard was slipping. ‘Tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?’
Ulster put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. ‘I run a small research facility in the mountains of Switzerland. It’s called the Ulster Archives.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘I never joke about research.’
She slid closer to him on the couch. ‘Wait a minute! Are you Petr Ulster?’
He opened one eye. ‘I am indeed. Have you heard of me?’
She nodded enthusiastically. ‘I read a piece you wrote for The Times.’
He opened his other eye. ‘Which one?’
‘The London Times.’
‘No, my dear, I meant which piece. I’ve written several.’
She smiled warmly. ‘It chronicled your recent trip to Greece, and all the obstacles you were forced to overcome. I never knew so much had to be done after a treasure was discovered.’
He leaned forward and met her gaze. She seemed truly interested in the subject matter, which was a rarity for him. He hardly ever met fans outside the world of academia. ‘It wasn’t easy, I can assure you of that. Then again, certain problems were expected before I made my trip. Gold brings out the worst in people. Always has, always will.’