Rhinoceros

CHAPTER 32

The light aircraft with a blue insignia on its tail swooped down to the landing strip at Tender airfield. Outside a small building Oskar Vernon stood, arms folded, as he watched it land perfectly. Skimming along the ground it came to a halt, propeller slowing, then stopping.

'Barton is a good pilot,' Oskar said to himself, 'but then, he does belong to a flying club in Britain…'

Barton, clad in flying gear, carrying his case and helmet, walked across as Panko followed him after dropping agilely from the cabin, also carrying a case. In his usual rough manner Barton said nothing to Vernon as he walked inside the building and checked that it was unoccupied. Panko went straight up to Oskar.

'We arrive good time,' he greeted Oskar.

'You're expected to.'

'We lose Tweed team in Flensburg. Delgado gone.'

'Do keep your trap shut,' snarled Barton who had come out of the small building in time to hear what he'd said. 'I do the reporting.'

'Then report,' Oskar ordered. 'What's all this about "Delgado gone"?'

'He insisted on searching Flensburg on his own. He was hoping to find one of Tweed's women on her own. He planned to torture her to get information. He never came back.'

'Strange. Well, we can't waste time over him. Did you see Tweed in Flensburg?'

'Yes,' Barton replied hesitantly. 'Walking on a street with some of his men. We slipped inside an alley so we wouldn't be seen. When we came out they had all gone. We never saw them again.'

'You were supposed to kill them all on the way to Flensburg. I take it from what you've just said you didn't?'

'They outnumbered us heavily,' Barton said quickly. 'We were ambushed and they killed all our men. Only Delgado and the two of us escaped.'

'Really?' Oskar's tone was skeptical. 'Outnumbered. Now you're here, well out of the way as a reserve.' He tapped his mobile phone. 'I expect to hear tomorrow where to send you. I have booked rooms for you at the Hotel Tonderhus. That is my Audi in the road. I'll take you to your hotel.'

'You'll be staying with us?' asked Barton.

'I will not. I'm staying with a Danish friend who knows nothing about my activities. After a meal you can walk round the little town. It's quite pleasant. But get to bed early. Tomorrow will be a day of activity and you will need all your energy. Come on, let's get moving so I can drop you off at the Tonderhus.'

Newman was driving inland and they had a panoramic view over vast flatlands. A short distance from the sea Paula saw a very large concrete structure like a long dyke close to the water.

'What's that?' she asked.

'Tender,' Tweed explained, 'is known as Capital of the Marshlands, although actually we'd call it a large village. Many years ago there was a great storm and the sea flooded inland. The Danes took measures – they built that dyke to prevent another catastrophe. Like the Dutch, they are good engineers.'

'Looks like the biggest billiard table in the world. It just stretches away to the north as far as the eye can see.'

As they drove on, Tweed took out the typed sheet of paper which had flown out of Gavin Thunder's case. Paula was watching him as he read it. His expression became very grim as he folded it and returned it to his pocket.

'Trouble?' she enquired.

'Catastrophe would be a better word. We're facing the most dangerous problem we've ever tackled, plus the fact we're up against incredibly powerful opponents.'

'That's encouraging.'

'I'll explain later.' Tweed was checking his map. 'Bob, we turn left just ahead. Another narrow lane, I expect.'

Soon a number of woods appeared by the side of the lane, blotting out the view of the vast tableland which Tweed mentioned was the westernmost province of Denmark, Jutland. They came to a frontier post where a red-and-white-striped pole stuck up at an angle. There were no guards.

'We're in Denmark now,' Tweed remarked.

'I feel much safer,' said Paula.

'We're fairly close to our destination. We shall have to find a hotel to stay the night. I prefer Hostrups Hotel – it overlooks a large stream. But it may be full up. If it is we'll stay at the Tonderhus.'

'I wonder who Number Five is?' Lisa asked.

'Number Five?' queried Tweed, his mind elsewhere.

'Yes. When those Americans were about to leave the windmill a soldier came running out of the wood – no, it was a civilian – and he called out to the FBI man that the fifth man wasn't coming. So the FBI man told him to forget Number Five.'

'You're right,' agreed Tweed, 'he did. So far there are four of them. Gavin Thunder, the American Secretary of State, the German Deputy Chancellor and the French Prime Minister at the secret meeting on Sylt. So who could be Number Five?'

'Rhinoceros,' whispered Paula.

Hostrups Hotel was a large three-storey white building of character facing a wide stream with banks of reeds. It was on the edge of Tender. Tweed got out with Paula to see if they had rooms.

'If they haven't there is always the Tonderhus,' he reminded her.

'I do like the look of this place…'

The receptionist, who spoke perfect English, said yes, they did have enough rooms for Tweed's party.

'We would not have normally,' she explained, 'but so many people fly abroad to crazy places like Thailand and St Lucia, wherever that might be. You would like a meal after going up to your rooms?'

'Yes, please,' Paula replied. 'I'm ravenous.'

When the others were brought in, Lisa asked if she could eat later.

'I want to have the longest bath I've ever had.'

Paula understood. After her experience with Delgado Lisa would want to wash every part of herself and change all her clothes. Everybody else voted for dinner.

After being shown to their rooms and having a good wash they trooped down into a large and pleasant dining room. It had an atmosphere of hygienic cleanliness. The meal was first-rate and they ate almost in silence. Paula noticed that Tweed hardly took his eyes off his plate and had a very serious look. He first spoke as they were drinking coffee.

'Do you think you could all stand coming to my room while I talk to you? Good.'

Going upstairs they met Lisa coming down. She wore different clothes and carried a laundry bag.

'The food's marvellous,' Paula said.

'Great. I could eat a wild boar. Bet that's not on the menu. Bob, I've put everything I was wearing in this bag and I want to dump it.'

'Give it to me. I'll find somewhere to get rid of it…'

In Tweed's room some sat on chairs while others perched on the edge of the double bed. He closed the window, turned, began talking.

'There are three major factors we must never forget. One is the Elite Club now meeting on Sylt. Plotting on Sylt would be a better way of putting it. To establish dictatorships in each of their countries. The second factor is the money – a huge sum – missing from the Zurcher Kredit Bank in Hamburg. I have little doubt they plan to use that to finance the enormous number of riot groups they are linking up with. The third factor is the Internet.'

'What about the Internet?' asked Newman.

'Someone has found out how to manipulate it, how to use it to communicate by weird codes with the riot groups. Maybe to inform them when and where to act.'

'Can't do much about that, I'd have thought,' said Nield.

'We'll see. There is a fourth element. Rhinoceros. Who is he? Where does he fit into the picture. Could he be Number Five? There are other factors but I've simplified the horrific danger down to the main ones.'

'Don't see how it all fits in,' said Nield.

'It will. Now I'm going to read extracts from the sheet Gavin Thunder lost from his executive case. It's clear, it's methodical. Gavin has a first-rate brain, unfortunately.' Tweed took the typed sheet from his pocket, unfolded it. 'One, to create iron governments in our countries there must be chaos on such a scale the people will accept any system which brings back peace. That has been arranged – the imminent arrival of chaos everywhere. Two, each country must be divided into large military areas, each area controlled by a strong Governor. Three, any opposition must be ruthlessly and immediately crushed. Special prisons will be established on remote islands off the mainland. In the case of Britain an Enabling Act will be rushed through Parliament overnight, giving the new Government supreme powers. The Governors of the six military areas in Britain will be commanded by a Supreme Governor, Brigadier Bernard, Lord Barford. That's it,' he concluded.

'My God!' gasped Newman. 'It's a dictatorship backed up by martial law. And Barford's in the conspiracy.'

'Now you see how serious the situation is,' Tweed replied. 'I hope you noticed the use of the word "imminent" – so we have very little time left.'

'I'm stunned,' said Paula. 'What next?'

'I am convinced there is another powerful force determined to counter this conspiracy. I expect to be contacted here by a representative from that force at any moment.'

'How will this other force know we are here on Tender, away from anywhere?' she wondered.

'Because they have known where we were most of the time. I did hear another light aircraft flying a long way behind us when we left the windmill. But we mustn't underestimate Gavin Thunder and his friends. Now, I want this village trawled for sight of the enemy while it's dark. Armed, we split up into three sections of two people. I will take Paula, Newman will accompany Marler, Butler will accompany Nield. We all go in different directions. We do not enter any hotel, bar or restaurant. Too risky. Lisa I will persuade to go to bed. She needs sleep. Any questions?'

There were no questions. Paula was staring at Tweed, impressed and a little taken aback by the forceful way he had spoken. It had created in her a feeling that they were on the eve of war.

The three pairs had left the hotel, strolling off in different directions. Tweed chose to walk up Sondergade, which he knew would lead them to the centre of the small town. Then he wandered into narrower side streets. At distant intervals they were illuminated by small lamps but between them were long areas of deep shadow. The side streets were cobbled. It was very silent and not another soul was to be seen.

'Tonder is so beautiful, the houses so quaint,' Paula observed.

Little more than cottages, the buildings were hunched together in terraces. Some had brick walls, some were covered with plaster, painted in different colours – ochre, pink, blue or yellow. Some houses had bay windows on the ground floor and above a window in a steep gable. The silence was total, with only the tread of their feet on the cobbles punctuating it.

'This is Dreamland,' Paula remarked. 'I really can't imagine any danger in a place like this.'

'You know me -I take every precaution. What happened on the autobahn on our way to Flensburg showed how determined the enemy is to wipe us out.'

'We're too far away from them. This is Denmark.'

They followed a complex route. Tweed had obtained a street map from the receptionist and carried it now in his head.

They were walking on through the maze and Paula felt relaxed. Not so Tweed, she noticed. The temperature had dropped and he had his right hand inside his coat pocket, gripping his Walther. Paula secretly thought he was overdoing it. They were approaching the edge of the town when Paula pointed ahead.

'Look. That big red building. It's the Tonderhus, the other hotel you mentioned.'

As they drew closer a tall, well-padded man, smoking a cigar and looking the other way, came out and paused under a lamp, rauia graooea noia or iweea at tne same moment he slipped an arm round her waist. They dragged each other into a side street.

'I don't believe it,' gasped Paula. 'That was Oskar Vemon.'

'It most certainly was. What were you saying earlier about feeling safe in Denmark?'

'How on earth can he have turned up here?'

As she spoke they were hurrying down the side street, then along into another which led away from the hotel. Paula was breathing heavily, almost in a state of shock.

'It must be a coincidence,' she said eventually.

'You know I don't believe in coincidences.'

'There must come a time,' she argued, 'when we do actually run into a coincidence.'

'And where Oskar is,' Tweed persisted, 'Barton and Panko may not be far away.'

'I wanted to shoot him,' she said wildly.

'No shooting here – if it can possibly be avoided. I think we'd better wend our way back to our hotel.'

'It's such a jewel of a little town,' she protested. 'Not for filthy villains like Oskar.'

'Keep moving – and keep alert. We're not too far from our hotel.'

They crossed the wide stream and the moon appeared. It was reflected in the water and Paula thought it was paradise – paradise lost because of the appearance of that fat pig of a killer. It would have looked so romantic, she thought wistfully. Yes, she could have shot the pig. They re-crossed the stream and were outside their hotel. Tweed hustled her inside. He ordered a brandy for Paula and a glass of wine for himself. They went up to his room where she flopped on a couch. Then she pressed her lips together, sat up straight, took a sip of her brandy.

'Sorry I lost my cool,' she said.

'You didn't. You reacted, grabbing me to get me under cover. Look at it this way – we saw him but he didn't see us.'

There was a tap on the door. Tweed had his Walther by his side when he unlocked and opened the door a fraction, then opened it wide. Newman came in with Marler. Both men looked very serious.

'We have bad news,' Tweed told them. 'We've just seen Oskar Vernon coming out of the Hotel Tonderhus.'

'We have our own…'

Newman broke off. He had just noticed Paula had lost some of her normal high colour. Paula looked up at him, smiled.

'Do go on with what you were saying.'

'All right. We have our own bad news. We spotted Barton and Panko drinking in a bar. They didn't see us.'

'What might be called the last straw,' Paula commented. 'On the other hand, isn't it fortunate we know they're in town?'

'So what do we do now?' Newman enquired.

'I'll tell you what you three do now,' Tweed said cheerfully. 'You all go to bed, get some sleep, then you get up in the morning and we'll have a big breakfast…'

Newman and Marler had left and Paula was just about to go to her room when the phone rang. It was the receptionist Tweed found himself speaking to.

'Who did you say is here and wishes to see me?' he asked.

Paula, intrigued, paused before opening the door to leave. Tweed was now asking the receptionist to send the visitor up, that he would meet her at the top of the stairs. He put the phone down, looked at Paula.

'You can stay while I see this lady, if you feel you can hold up.'

'I can hold up all night long if necessary. Who is it?'

'Mrs Gina France, the Zurcher Kredit accountant who came to see us at the Four Seasons. The lady you received that big bunch of hydrangeas from when we were leaving Rondel's mansion on the way to Blankenese. I'm wondering if the representative I said might contact us has arrived.'

'Could be a representative of the enemy,' Paula warned.