Next he searched the pockets of the gunman but found nothing of value. After grabbing the Beretta, Jones dashed to where the guy had parked and snapped a photo of his license plate. If he’d had more time, he would have searched the car for the gunman’s wallet or registration, but he knew a picture on his camera phone would have to suffice.
While heading back to the chopper, Jones heard a garbled transmission on his radio. He answered it immediately, expecting an issue at the cableway. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Leav … will … ortly.’
He turned towards the station and saw Huber loading a crate into the back of the snowcat. Obviously, it wasn’t coming from him. ‘Please repeat.’
‘… the gorge … shortly.’
Jones smiled when he heard the word gorge. It was a message from Payne. ‘You’re breaking up. Please repeat. Over.’
Thirty seconds passed before Payne tried again. This time his transmission was much clearer. ‘We’re leaving … gorge now. We’ll be there shortly.’
‘Glad to hear it. How big is the guest list?’
‘Two.’
‘Stay alert. A civilian just tried to take us out.’
‘Civilians in play. Check.’
‘See ya soon. Over and out.’
Jones opened the door to the cockpit and was about to climb inside when he heard a loud rumble behind him. He turned and spotted the source of the sound. The snowcat with its tank-like tracks was pulling away from the station. Huber was standing in the back with his G36, surveying the car park like a gunner on an armoured fighting vehicle.
Suddenly Bavaria resembled Baghdad. Minus the sand and those pesky terrorists.
Jones added to the tumult by starting the helicopter. The whooshing of the blades and the roar of the turbines fuelled the adrenaline that surged through his body. A few years had passed since he had flown a chopper overseas, and that had been in Italy while trying to evade the Milanese police during his first archaeological mission. Less than twenty-four hours later, he and Payne toured the Ulster Archives for the very first time. Since then, Jones had logged hundreds of hours of flight time at military bases across the US as part of an agreement he had reached with the Pentagon. He used their equipment, and they used him as a consultant.
With the helicopter ready to go, Jones hopped out of the cockpit and greeted Huber at the side door. The driver of the snowcat, a young man in his early twenties, parked the vehicle thirty feet away since he wasn’t sure if it would fit under the chopper blades. Then he climbed out of the cabin and walked to the back without having to be asked or threatened. Either the kid had a huge set of marbles, or he had been scared into submission at the cableway.
Huber leaned close and shouted into Jones’s ear. ‘I heard your transmission. When our friends arrive, we’re gonna be too heavy.’
Jones shouted back. ‘That’s not your problem. Load the chopper.’
Huber nodded and hustled to get Kaiser.
Jones could see Payne and Richter in the distance. They were hoofing it across a small courtyard that led to the Olympic ski stadium. By Jones’s calculations, their journey had covered approximately two miles over harsh terrain. After all that running, they deserved a lounge chair and a bottle of water, not a dose of bad news. Unfortunately, that’s what Jones would greet them with. Because of weight restrictions, there wasn’t room for them on the chopper. Even if they dumped the pilot, one of them would be left behind. Originally, Jones had planned to stick around with Payne, but that was no longer possible because of the pilot’s death.
Payne and Richter were out of breath when they reached the chopper. While gasping for air, Payne pointed to Krause, who was crumpled in a puddle of blood. ‘What happened?’
Jones answered. ‘He killed the pilot, so I took him out.’
‘Fair enough. Where’s Petr?’
‘Don’t know. He never came back from Schachen.’
‘Did you try his radio?’
‘He doesn’t have one.’
Payne shook his head. ‘I meant chopper to chopper.’
‘Didn’t want to risk it. Too many ears.’
‘What’s our status?’
‘Bird’s ready to fly, but we’re too heavy.’
‘By how much?’
‘Two men.’
He took it in stride. ‘You flying?’
Jones shrugged. ‘I’m the only one who can.’
Payne nodded and pointed at Huber, who was loading the last crate into the chopper. ‘How’s your guard? Is he any good?’
‘Yeah, why?’
‘If you’re making me walk, we need to trade. I get Huber, you get Richter.’
‘Why?’
‘Long story. I’ll tell you later.’
‘Hold up! Is there something I should know?’
Payne nodded. ‘Keep Richter away from witnesses.’
Jones waved Huber over to explain the situation. Suddenly the downdraught around them increased, as did the roar of the turbines. Worried that something was wrong, Jones turned towards the cockpit and spotted the culprit fifty feet away. The extra wind and noise were coming from Ulster’s helicopter, which was hovering nearby and preparing to land. The sound of its approach had been masked completely until it was almost on top of them.
Payne smiled when he saw the chopper. His escape just got a whole lot easier. ‘Where are we headed?’
Jones answered. ‘Some warehouse in Austria. Huber knows where.’
‘Then try to keep up.’
‘Not a problem.’
Payne patted Huber on his shoulder. ‘You’re with me. Richter stays with Kaiser.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Is everything loaded?’