‘Are you talking to me?’ Richter asked.
Payne laughed to himself. In his excitement, he had forgotten whom he was dealing with. The truth was that most dogs were probably smarter than Richter. ‘Yeah, big guy, I’m talking to you. Are you somewhere safe?’
‘Yes, sir. I stopped inside a tunnel.’
‘What’s the path look like behind you?’
‘Like dirt, sir.’
Payne smirked. ‘I meant, describe the terrain. Straight, twisty, narrow … ?’
‘Straight, sir. And pretty wide open. The canyon opens up further ahead.’
‘Good, that’s good. That’s what we’re looking for.’
‘For what, sir?’
Payne ignored the question. For one reason or another, Kaiser’s men simply didn’t understand the risks of radio transmissions. With the proper equipment, radio signals were very easy to intercept. ‘Do you see anyone headed your way?’
Richter peeked out of the tunnel. ‘Not right now, sir. No hikers or bad guys in sight. The path is all clear.’
‘And you’re sure you’re secure?’
‘Yes, sir. I’m dug in real good.’
‘Then catch your breath and hold your position.’
Richter nodded. ‘For how long, sir?’
Payne stared at the trail ahead. Based on Richter’s slowness and Payne’s speed, they were only a few minutes apart. ‘Stay there until you see me.’
44
As Payne sprinted along the narrow path, he felt as if he had been magically transported to a distant land, somewhere far away from central Europe. Gone were the pine trees and snowy peaks of the Alps, replaced by the moss-covered cliffs and roaring waterfalls of South America. Until that morning, Payne had never heard of the Partnach Gorge, but even if he had, he wouldn’t have believed a canyon like this could exist in Germany; in the rain forest, maybe, but not Bavaria.
In retrospect, Payne could understand why a dreamer like Ludwig would have chosen this region to build his mountain lair. During the day, he could have hiked the scenic trails that seemed to go on for ever, a wide variety of terrain and topography to fuel his imagination. At night, he could have returned to the peaceful solitude of Mount Schachen, a place where he could pretend to be a knight, a swan or a fire-breathing dragon without interference from advisors or whispers from onlookers.
In many ways, Payne could identify with the need to get away. Sometimes he found himself burdened by the huge responsibility of overseeing his grandfather’s corporation, a job he didn’t love but one he did out of familial obligation. In those situations, he shut out the world and stole some time for himself – whether that was going to the roof of the Payne Industries building where he had installed a basketball court or a nearby firing range. For an ex-athlete/soldier like Payne, shooting hoops and shooting bad guys were both ways to relieve stress.
Suddenly, the deceptive calm of the last minute ended in a burst of gun fire from somewhere round the next bend. Payne instantly recognized the sound; it came from a G36 assault rifle. A few seconds later, there was more automatic fire, this time a little bit closer. Payne cursed to himself as he picked up speed. Either Richter had left his position in the tunnel and was coming towards him, or the final gunman was armed with the G36 they had taken from Schneider. If it was the latter – and Payne assumed it was because Richter was obedient – everyone left standing was carrying a G36. In a confined space all that firepower could make things messy.
Sprinting around the corner, Payne spotted his prey less than thirty feet away. Krueger was running towards him, trying to get away from Richter who was positioned in the tunnel ahead. Payne instantly skidded to a halt and hugged the rock face to his right before he unleashed a stream of bullets that tore into the path less than ten feet from Krueger. Not because Payne had missed, but because he wanted to question the guy and get some answers.
Stunned by his predicament, Krueger tried to stop way too quickly on the rocky trail. As he did, his feet slid out from under him. One second he was running for his life; the next he was skimming across the rocks on his ass, leaving chunks of cloth and skin behind. As he slid, he accidentally squeezed the trigger on his G36, sending a torrent of bullets into the air, most of which struck the canyon on the other side of the river, far from Payne and Richter.
‘Drop your weapon!’ Payne shouted.
Too dazed to respond, Krueger remained flat on his back, trying to regain his senses. He blinked a few times and tried to sit up, but the sky was spinning way too much for him to do anything, so he simply lay back down.
Tactically speaking, a soldier has two options when an adversary is unresponsive to his commands. He can play it safe and monitor the situation from afar, or he can charge forward and eliminate the threat. Not surprisingly, Payne opted for the aggressive approach. He pulled out his radio and spoke to Richter, who was lingering in the tunnel on the far side of Krueger.
‘Let’s take him,’ Payne ordered.
In unison, both men hustled forward while staring at Krueger over the tips of their rifles. Payne got there first and viciously kicked the G36 out of his hands. It clanked on the rocky path near Richter, who picked it up and slung it over his shoulder.
‘Should I search him?’ Richter asked.
Payne shook his head. He didn’t want Richter to get too close to Krueger. That was simply asking for trouble. ‘Hell, no! Let him keep whatever weapons he has. In fact, I hope he reaches for one. It’ll give me an excuse to pull my trigger.’
Richter backed away, just in case Payne opened fire.
Meanwhile, Payne’s gaze never left Krueger, who was lying on the ground with his hands by his side. Far from his pockets, they weren’t viewed as a threat.
‘Do you speak English?’ Payne asked.
Krueger groaned but didn’t answer.
Payne repeated himself in German. ‘Sprechen sie Englisch?’
Krueger took a deep breath. ‘Ja.’
‘Then answer me in English, you stupid Kraut!’
Until that moment, Payne had never used the word Kraut in his entire life, but he was quite familiar with its origin and hoped it would rile his opponent enough to get him talking. A derogatory term for German soldiers, it became popular during the First World War when British sailors learned their German counterparts ate large quantities of sauerkraut in order to prevent scurvy. This practice was comparable to the Royal Navy’s consumption of limes, which had earned them the nickname Limey, so they felt it was appropriate to belittle the Germans in a similar fashion.
‘Yes,’ Krueger said as he sat up slowly, ‘I speak English.’
Payne watched him closely. ‘If you twitch, you die.’
Krueger used his arms to twist himself onto his knees, then he placed his hands on top of his head. It was the universal position for surrender. ‘I understand.’
‘Wow, I get the feeling you’ve done that before. Is that a part of your training? Germans: surrendering to Americans since 1918.’
Krueger sneered. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘What do I want? No, Adolf, what do you want? You attacked us, in case you forgot. We were minding our own business in the woods when you came along.’
Krueger shook his head. ‘I did no such thing. I am man of peace.’
‘Yeah, a piece of shit.’
‘I am hiker, not fighter. I find gun in trees.’
‘Really? If that’s the case, prove it to me. Show me your hands.’
‘What?’
Payne smiled. ‘I said, show – me – your – hands.’
Krueger lifted his hands above his head. ‘Now what?’