The Schliemann Legacy (17 page)

Helene and Duman ducked and ran across the roof to the helicopter. Duman easily carried Helene's and his own heavy suitcases. When Helene opened the door of the craft, he placed them in the compartment behind the seat. With a practiced eye, he gauged the amount of room available in the craft. Still calculating, he helped Helene in. Then he ran around and opened the other back door. Before Viktor understood what was happening, Duman was in the seat behind him and snapping on the lap belt.

Viktor whirled around in his seat and glared at Duman. Helene intervened and put a headset over her blonde hair. She impatiently motioned to Viktor and he turned to the control panel and flipped a switch.

"Viktor, this is Richard Wakefield. Richard, this is Viktor. He's Grandfather's right arm. Isn't that true, Viktor?" Her voice sounded strained. She feared Viktor might demand Richard leave the helicopter until he spoke with her grandfather.

Duman held out his hand, but Viktor ignored the man. "Does your grandfather know he is coming?"

"I don't have to clear everything with Grandfather. Richard is a very good friend and I want him to come and meet Grandfather. It's a surprise."

"Your grandfather does not appreciate surprises," Viktor said. He turned back to Duman who still held out his hand. Viktor grabbed it roughly and squeezed. Helene could see the muscles in Viktor's forearm bulge. She wished she could see under Richard's coat to watch the muscles on his strong arm. Viktor coolly appraised Duman as the man stared back at him.

Helene held her breath. The only other man she had seen stand up to Viktor's stare was her grandfather. Finally, Viktor released his grip and turned back to the control panel. Helene was happy to see him flex his hand before grasping the control stick between his legs. Boldly, she reached over and placed her hand on her lover's thigh.

* * * * *

The flight to Kadner's compound took slightly over half an hour. Throughout, Viktor sat stiffly in the front seat, concentrating on flying the helicopter. Meanwhile, Helene excitedly detailed various points of interest. Below, the jungle was a single mat of green broken only by the many dirt clogged rivers and the few villages. Duman realized it would be impossible to find his way through the jungle without the detailed maps he carried in the hidden compartment of his luggage.

Duman recognized the small village that would be his destination after he stole the treasure. The otherwise primitive village had a tall radio tower and a short airstrip. The strip was perfect for the small planes used by smugglers and ideal for Duman's plan. With the treasure safely in his possession, Duman would radio a contact in M19. He would be out of Colombia in hours.

Viktor banked right and announced his intentions to land. He settled the craft beside a similar, but smaller, two seater helicopter and shut the engines down immediately. Before the blades had stopped turning, he stepped out on the cement and headed for the elderly man standing in the shade of a narrow awning.

As he walked with Helene toward the main house, Duman realized the old man was arguing with Viktor. The big German's face was a deep red, his eyes fierce with rage at being blamed for bringing the stranger. Helene grabbed Duman's arm and pulled him close. "That's Grandfather," she whispered. "Viktor must be catching hell for bringing you."

Duman smiled down at her. "You don't regret bringing me, do you?"

"You kidding? I love it. That snot Viktor deserves anything he gets. Anyway, Grandfather will like you. I know because I love you!"

As they approached, Kadner dismissed Viktor with a wave of his hand. Viktor straightened and almost saluted, then stopped himself. He stomped across the steaming landing pad to the helicopter, giving Duman a withering stare as he passed.

Helene became the young girl again and ran to the old man. "Grandfather! I've missed you so much. How are you?" She gave him a huge hug and a kiss, which he stiffly accepted. She backed up and presented Duman. "This is Richard, Richard Wakefield. Richard, this is my Grandfather, Ulrich Kadner."

Duman could feel the frail bones as he shook Kadner's hand. "
Englander
?" asked the old Nazi.

"Yes, but we can speak the language of your choice," Duman replied in perfect German.

Kadner raised his eyebrows in surprise and the suspicion deepened in his eyes. "
Nein
. English is acceptable. You are a friend of my little granddaughter and are welcome in my home, Herr Wakefield. Follow me."

The old man turned abruptly and walked through the doorway, allowing a burst of air conditioned air to escape as he entered. Duman picked up the suitcases and motioned Helene to go ahead of him. He looked back at the helicopter. Viktor stood motionless, watching him.

Chapter 20 - CUPID

The way Katrina attacked the undergrowth with her machete impressed David. Out of habit, he had split the supplies almost evenly between the two packs, each weighing over seventy five pounds. Katrina had not shirked at carrying the weight nor had she complained about taking her turn to break trail. She moved with the surefooted grace and strength of a jungle cat. Unlike her, David had stumbled twice on the unfamiliar terrain. Once, she had even caught him, supporting his weight while he regained his footing. With every mile they fought through the green maze, his respect for her grew. So did the other feelings.

"You can't be that old." Slightly out of breath, Katrina's voice had a husky, appealing quality.

David's pack bobbed up as he shrugged. "Old enough."

"No, really. How old are you? I want to know when I'll be washed up."

David laughed with her and coughed when a small bug flew down his throat. Not for the first time, he wished they were in a desert instead of a jungle. "I'm fifty four. They pulled me off active duty about three years ago."

"You, too? That must have been a bad year."

"In my case, they called it 'retirement.' I squirmed my way into a couple of operations, but Assi really clamped me to a desk last year."

"But you must have been ready for a rest."

David was thoughtfully silent for a moment before he replied. "A few years after I joined the Mossad, when the initial high wore off, I thought I would be happy to see my retirement. I spent too much of my career in cheap hotel rooms and dirty back alleys. I didn't see much of the glamour or opulent life style we all expect. One time, I spent four weeks in a one-bedroom apartment without going out once. I mean that literally - I never left. I thought I would go absolutely nuts. And the killings, the death. At times, the bodies piled up until I didn't want to continue. I often questioned whether everything was worthwhile. More than once, I was ready to quit."

"So what happened?"

Before answering, David tapped Katrina on the back and moved past her. He pulled a compass from his pocket and checked their course. Like her three previous leads, she had kept them right on target. He drew his machete and began to slash at the palm fronds before him.

After a moment, he stopped and turned to face her. "I'm not sure why I don't want to quit now. I guess boredom took over. I miss the excitement and the responsibility. I even miss the days in that apartment. Ridiculous, but true. Maybe I'm trying to recapture my youth. Who knows?" David turned back to the path.

Katrina watched his muscular arms as he hacked at the fronds with the heavy blade. The pair had grown closer over the three hours they had struggled through the dense jungle. Katrina feared they were becoming too close. She could sense the growing feeling and its pace frightened her. Love or even lust could only complicate matters for her. And yet, she did not fight the attraction.

David's machete suddenly broke through to a clearing beneath the canopy of trees. A small wooden shack stood in the middle. David took off his pack and motioned Katrina to the left while he headed to the right. Both stayed under the cover of the brush until they met at the far side of the building. David drew his gun and edged toward the door. Katrina counted five before following him.

David opened the door cautiously at first and then jumped through the entrance, his gun ready. Immediately, he turned back again, gulping the fresh air. Katrina looked in. The overpowering odor of rotted flesh made her back up and slam the door.

David coughed. "Looks like we've found Mardinaud's source of information," he said.

* * * * *

They had the shack cleaned in half an hour. David dragged the body of Mardinaud's operative into the jungle and buried it in a shallow grave while Katrina scraped the dried blood off the floor, straightened what furniture remained, and burned a concoction of herbs which she scrounged from the jungle. The fragrant smoke removed the worst of the smell, but nothing would completely erase the putrid odor of the corpse.

Sitting by lantern light, they discussed their plans and ate their evening meal.

"We should have no trouble reaching the compound in the early afternoon if we leave by midmorning," David said, putting the map aside. "I want to test the equipment once more before we go. I'm not happy with that one panel."

He poured a foil envelope of powder into a small pot of boiling water and stirred the dehydrated mixture. The paste turned a dark green. David consulted the package but could find no direction about the proper color. He tasted the concoction and immediately took a long drink from his canteen. He had never got used to the taste of the energy supplement. Setting the pot aside, he pulled a bag of dehydrated fruit and nuts from his pack.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Katrina pick up the pot. She sniffed at the pot, took a small sample and then devoured its contents. "Arriving by one o'clock at the latest will give us more than enough time to reconnoiter the area and plant the mortars," he said. "Mardinaud's information is usually good, but I want to see the place for myself. We'll strike at dusk."

"What are our odds?"

"Better than even," David said immediately.

"I wish I had your confidence."

Katrina finished her dinner and set the pot aside. Picking at her sweat and dirt-streaked clothing, she looked at David. "Will Duman be there?"

"If not in the compound, he'll be close by," he said.

* * * * *

Henri Mardinaud clapped his hands together and pulled his plate closer so he could mop up the gravy with a thick slice of bread. "You say Duman shot at them?" he asked after shoving the sodden bread into his mouth.

"According to initial reports," Martin Erhart said, "an unknown sniper fired two shots into the street, killing a tourist."

The fat information broker made no attempt to stifle a belch. "Do the authorities have any clues?"

Martin shook his head. "They claim it is drug related."

"The standard refrain for any unsolved crime in Colombia. But we know better. Duman must be furious. What else do you have?"

"The events were difficult to piece together," the assistant explained with some pride. "Most of the eye witnesses disagree on the details. However, one old woman claims to have seen a man tackle a woman just
before
the shot. The witness says the unknown man saved the woman."

"Morritt saved the Greek woman? Saved her and lost Duman? How like the Jew. So touching. Morritt may finally be over his late wife. Morritt and Kontoravdis are joining forces?"

"Unknown. The odds favor an alliance. Duman is already on his way to the compound in the company of Helene Kadner."

"The game progresses," Mardinaud said. He held up a glass of red wine. "To romance! Martin, I feel like Cupid."

Mardinaud drank the wine in a single gulp and put the crystal wine glass on the table beside him. "Now, tell me of this mystery interference."

Martin paused for a moment, feeling sweat break out along his spine. "The reports are sketchy at best. No solid information, just phantom data searches. I would hardly call this interference. Someone is fishing."

"But definitely directed against Kadner?"

"It would seem."

Mardinaud stared hard at Martin as he considered the reports. An unknown group had entered his little drama. Someone he did not control was trying to slip themselves past him.

"Unacceptable!"

"Oui, Monsieur."

"Find them Martin. I must know who dares defy me. They shall be made to suffer for such insolence!"

As Martin left the room, Mardinaud watched his back. It was unthinkable but Mardinaud couldn't help but wonder if he had a leak in his carefully controlled organization.

PART FOUR

KADNER'S COMPOUND

TUMULT AND COMBAT RAGED AROUND THE WALL

WHOSE TOWER BEAMS RANG FROM BATTERING

THE ILIAD -BOOK XII

Chapter 21 - HOMARD AUX AROMATES

Duman, resplendent in a white dinner jacket and black tie, stood in the entrance to the dining room. A red coated servant showed him to a seat facing the glass doors to the garden. To his left, Kadner sat at the head of the table and Viktor sat at the other end. Both of the Germans wore black tuxedos. Duman acknowledged his host with a nod before sitting.

He slid a white linen napkin out of the wide, golden napkin ring and laid it across his lap. The table was set with fine china of ebony and ivory delicately touched with a gold trim. Golden goblets and cutlery glittered in the muted candlelight. In the center of the table, two snowy orchids floated in a Waterford crystal bowl.

The room was exquisitely decorated with several tasteful paintings and sculptures. Duman recognized several pieces that had disappeared during the late thirties and early forties. A small lamp lit each painting and overhead spotlights accented the better angles of the two statues. The collection would have been expensive - even priceless - if the Nazi had paid for the pieces, Duman thought. Knowing the spoils in this room alone could fuel the people's revolution in a small country, he began to understand and hate the men seated across from him.

Kadner seemed about to speak when Helene appeared like a spirit in the doorway. Her face was radiant. Duman could hardly believe he was looking at the same girl he had picked up at the airport. Applied with understated care, her makeup gave her the look of the mature woman he knew she was not. She had piled her long blonde hair high upon her head. Around her neck was a single diamond suspended on a delicate chain. Both sides of her floor length gown were slit from hem to mid-thigh. The nearly transparent white material was woven with threads of gold that shimmered when she moved and the daring, scooped neck revealed more of her breasts than it covered.