‘Speaking of help, something big has come up. Do you have a few minutes to talk?’
‘Of course. How sensitive is the information?’
‘Very.’
‘In that case, let me call you from a secure line. Give me two minutes.’
‘Thanks, Nick. I appreciate it.’
Payne hung up, dreading the conversation he was about to have. Over the years, Dial had tied up a lot of loose ends for Payne and Jones. Not because they were his friends or because they had saved his life in Greece while he was investigating the deaths of several monks – although those things didn’t hurt. He did it because they were highly trained soldiers whose adventures often got them into sticky situations. They weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty, and he was more than willing to clean up their mess. In fact, Dial had told them on multiple occasions that he wished he had the freedom to do the same thing as them, dispensing justice around the globe.
Regrettably, he spent most of his time in the office, not in the field.
One of the biggest misconceptions about Interpol was their role in stopping crime. They seldom sent agents to investigate a case. Instead, they used local offices called National Central Bureaus in the member countries. The NCBs monitored their territory and reported pertinent information to Interpol’s headquarters in Lyon, France. From there, facts were entered into a central database that could be accessed via Interpol’s computer network.
But sometimes that wasn’t enough. Sometimes the head of a division (Drugs, Counterfeiting, Terrorism, etc.) was forced to take control of a case, possibly to cut through red tape, or to handle a border dispute, or to deal with the international media. All the things that Dial hated to do. In his line of work, the only thing that mattered to him was justice – righting a wrong in the fairest way possible. That was the creed he had lived by when he was an investigator, and it was the creed he followed in his head position at Interpol.
Unfortunately, Payne realized the mess in Bavaria was different to anything he had faced in recent years. Not because he and Jones had done anything wrong – after all, they had been attacked by gunmen and had simply fought back – but unlike previous cases, one of their allies was a well-known criminal whose involvement would put Dial in a difficult spot.
The question was: how would Dial react?
Payne sat on one of the wooden crates, trying to figure out what he could and couldn’t say. His goal was to tell the truth about everything while omitting a few details. He wanted Dial to know what had happened in Bavaria without telling him too much about the bunker. Whether or not he could pull that off remained to be seen. It would depend on Dial’s mood.
When his phone rang a few minutes later, the ringtone was no longer the Menudo song it had been in Pittsburgh. It had been replaced by a popular children’s song called ‘Little Bunny Foo Foo’, sung by a nursery school teacher who sounded a lot like Angela Lansbury.
Little bunny Foo Foo
Hopping through the forest
Scooping up the field mice
And boppin’ them on the head.
Payne growled softly. When he found out who was messing with his phone, he was going to bop them on the head – with the butt of a rifle.
‘Fucking ringtones,’ mumbled Payne as he answered.
‘Ringtones? You made me call you on a secure line to talk about ringtones? I thought this was important.’
‘Sorry, Nick, it’s been a long day. DJ and I are lucky to be alive.’
‘What happened this time?’
Payne explained. ‘One of my contacts informed me about a possible discovery in the mountains of Germany, one with significant historical value. I notified Petr Ulster, who met us at the site early this morning. About three hours later, we were attacked by a hit squad.’
‘A hit squad?’
‘Multiple gunmen, multiple weapons, no conversation. They simply opened fire.’
‘Was anybody killed?’
‘Some of mine, all of theirs.’
Dial groaned. ‘I’m assuming you’re okay. What about DJ and Petr?’
‘Both of them are fine.’
‘Where did this happen?’
‘A town called Garmisch-Partenkirchen. It’s near the Austrian border.’
Dial nodded. ‘I’m familiar with it.’
‘They attacked us in the woods, about halfway up the mountain. After that, the battle spread all over the valley. It ended in town near the Olympic ski stadium. A man killed our chopper pilot as we were attempting to leave. We had no choice but to defend ourselves.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘Not there.’
Dial read between the lines. For some reason, Payne didn’t want to answer. ‘Give me some numbers. How many suspects?’
‘Six, possibly more. Like I said, the battle spread.’
‘Six confirmed dead?’
‘Six of theirs, three of ours.’
‘But they ambushed you?’
Payne shrugged. ‘They struck first. We struck back.’
Dial took notes, using a cryptic style of shorthand that only he could understand. ‘Who were these guys? Any ideas?’
‘I can send you their names and addresses.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘What can I say? The mountains are huge and filled with wolves. You’ll be lucky to find the bodies. We had some time, so we grabbed their IDs. We figured it would help your cause.’
‘And yours.’
Payne smiled. ‘The thought had crossed my mind.’
‘What about motivation? Did that cross your mind?’
‘As a matter of fact, it did. Unfortunately, that’s where things get messy.’