Harvath saw pictures and symbols of bears everywhere as they entered Bern. Claudia explained that the bear was the emblem of the city and the canton. They passed signs and coats of arms with bears, bakeries with bear-shaped cookies, and even a bear pit with a couple of live frolicking bears.
Claudia was careful to make sure that they weren’t being followed. She crossed back and forth across the Aare River several times and chose small out-of-the-way streets where it would be obvious if someone was behind them. This was Scot’s first time in Bern, and he marveled at the ancient sandstone-and-mahogany buildings, the covered arcades of the Old Town, the brightly colored fountains, and the spire of the Münster church, which Claudia told him was the highest in Switzerland.
Far below the Münster, at the foot of an enormous retaining wall, was Claudia’s neighborhood. It was called the Matte. Once a workers and artisans’ quarter, it was now very popular with the young Bernese in the city’s various creative fields. While Claudia couldn’t exactly classify what she did for a living as creative, it did demand certain amounts of creativity from time to time, and besides, she really liked the area’s energy.
They agreed that since Scot needed to make a phone call and use a fax, she would drop him at her friend Fabia’s travel agency, which was only a couple of blocks from her flat. Claudia’s apartment was on the fifth floor of a typical European walk-up. As much as Scot protested to the contrary, he needed to rest and five flights of stairs would have been murder on him after everything he had been through today. The thing Scot didn’t like was that there was no doubt the American hit team had followed Claudia from Bern to the Jungfrau and they probably had her apartment under surveillance right now. She was convinced, though, that she could get in and out without being seen. After getting Scot set up in Fabia’s private office, Claudia told him she would be back as soon as she ran a couple of errands and got the rest of what they needed from her apartment.
One of Fabia’s staff was sent to a small restaurant on the corner to get Scot something to eat. She returned with typical Bernese favorites, fried veal and sauerkraut. To top it off, there was a little bar of Toblerone chocolate.
Scot thanked the woman. Once she had closed the door, he took a couple bites of his food and spread his paperwork in front of him. He picked up the phone and dialed a number by heart.
“Lawlor,” came the clear, curt voice over the line. The connection made it sound as if he were only across the street, rather than thousands of miles away.
“Gary, it’s Scot.”
“Harvath? Where the hell are you?”
“All in good time. What’s going on at your end? Any luck getting the president back?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“I guess that answers my other question. I’m still persona non grata, correct?”
“You are much worse than that, my friend.”
“Gary, I think I may be able to help you out, but you have to share with me what you have first.”
“Jesus, Harvath. I don’t know why I bother with you.”
“Because we’ve got a history together and you know I wasn’t involved with the president’s kidnapping and I had nothing to do with Natalie Sperando and her friend being murdered.”
“History or not, I’ll tell you what I know, but after that, you tell me where you are.”
“Deal.”
“We’re maxed out. The FBI, CIA, DOD…we’ve got every agent from every possible law enforcement agency working on this, and we still haven’t come up with anything. The kidnappers cut off the president’s finger and sent it to Vice President Marshfield with a ransom demand of fifty million dollars. We’re convinced they will kill the president if we don’t give in to their demands.”
“You’re sure the finger was his?”
“DNA and print positive.”
“That’s barbaric.”
“You’re telling me. It really shook Marshfield up.”
“How’s he handling this?”
“He’s hanging tough on the no-negotiation-with-terrorists policy. Other than that, he’s falling apart. He looks like shit and hasn’t slept or eaten in days. He doesn’t even consult with DaFina anymore. Every time someone comes to him for a decision on what the next move should be, he kicks them out and presumably hops on the horn to someone outside his office. There’s a rumor he’s in touch with a psychic.”
“I hate to say this, but I could have told you this would happen. The man has no balls.”
“Indeed. Now you know what I know. It’s your turn. Where are you?”
“Before we start, I want you to record this. I’ve got a lot to cover and I know there are people you will want to play this back for, so get the tape rolling.”
“I didn’t ask for your life story. I want to know where you are.”
“I’ll tell you, but I strongly advise that you do not trace this call.”
“Why not?”
“For one, I won’t be here after we hang up, and two, if you trace it, the information, as secure as you think your agency is, might fall into the wrong hands. Just trust me. It’ll all be clear after I’m finished.”
“All right, Scot. Go ahead. It’s your dime.”
“First of all. Give me your fax number. I’m going to be sending several things through, and I want to know they are going to a secure line.”
Lawlor gave Scot a number.
“And you’re in your office right now, alone?”
“Yes. What is this all about?”
“I think I know who actually kidnapped the president and where he is being held.”
“You what?” Lawlor couldn’t believe his ears. “Where the hell are you? What evidence do you have?”
Scot filled Lawlor in on the entire story, starting with how he thought the kidnapping happened, all the way to his swim down the Reuss a couple of hours ago.
“I’m faxing the contents of the envelope that was in André Martin’s locker at Union Station. If you send a man to my apartment, you’ll find the piece of chocolate I recovered from the Utah farmhouse buried in the planter box outside my bedroom window. I’m also faxing the shipping invoice for Gerhard Miner’s wine. I think when we find out who paid for it, we’ll have the connection between Miner and Senator Snyder. Can you put one of your people in South Africa on it right away?”
“Of course. I just hope it shakes out in time.”
“Then wish me luck.”
“Luck? What the hell are you talking about?”
“My job was to protect the president, and I didn’t do that properly, so now my job is to get him back.”
“Scot, if you’re right, you could only make things worse by storming that mountain alone.”
“First, I won’t be alone. Second, I’m tired of being on the defensive and getting shot at every twelve hours. And third, if the kidnappers intend to make good on their threat, the president doesn’t have a whole lot of time left.”
“Scot, just take a second and think about the situation. If they kill him, they’ll never get the money. They’re not going to strangle the golden goose.”
“You don’t know that for sure. Who knows what they’ll do next. The longer we sit around on our asses, the worse his odds are.”
“You can’t just John Wayne your way through this. Give me time to look into what you’ve told me.”
“So you think I’m right about all of this?”
“If what you’ve uncovered is true, you’ve made a hell of a lot more progress than all of our agencies combined. But we’re talking if.”
“Well, if you add up all the bullets that have been fired at me since Wednesday, I’d say this whole thing is as far away from an if as you can get.”
“I agree, but this is a hostage situation.”
“And the clock is ticking. Listen, Gary, no matter what you say, the president was snatched on my watch and a lot of men died. I was responsible for them, and I let them all down. The only way I can make it right is to see to it that the president is returned safely and that the people behind his kidnapping pay. I won’t allow my men to have died in vain. Keep playing defense if you want, but the smart money’s on the offense.”
With that, Harvath hung up the phone.