Rhinoceros

CHAPTER 33

Paula stared in disbelief as Tweed ushered their visitor into the room. She had been expecting a woman waving her arms about, amiable and fuddled. Instead she saw a hardly recognizable Mrs France.

Wearing flying kit, including flying boots, clad in a helmet, tufts of blue rinse hair protruding, and her huge glasses, she strode briskly into the room, very erect and purposeful. She greeted Paula, accepted Tweed's offer of coffee from a pot just delivered, perched herself on the arm of a chair.

'I had the devil of a job finding you. I tried the Tonderhus Hotel first

'You didn't ask for us by name?' Tweed queried.

'Heavens, no. I just checked the vehicles in the car park, looking for a blue stretch Mercedes. I found it here.'

'Do you mind if I ask how you knew we were travelling in that car?' Tweed enquired gently as he handed her a cup of coffee.

'I don't mind at all. Right from the moment you left the Four Seasons in Hamburg we knew you had switched from your cream model to the blue one.'

'You said "we" – may I ask who "we" is?'

'Oh, that.' She smiled ruefully, swinging one leather-clad leg. 'I was once married, then had to divorce him when I found I was one of a trio. So I often use "we" -going back to the old days.'

'And how on earth did you find us in Tender?'

'We'd picked you up again in Flensburg and I tried to follow you from there – Flensburg also has an airfield. I lost you, saw you again heading for Denmark, then you gave me the slip again. So I've been flying all over Jutland until I spotted you heading for Tonder.' She grinned. 'You do move about. This coffee is a life-saver.'

'So what can we do for you?'

'Before I come to that I'd better warn you there are some grim-looking villains in Tonder. I saw two in a bar. Certainly not Danes. I saw them in Hamburg late in the evening after I'd left you to buy something at a department store. If they were there and now they're here – just as you are – I don't think you want to go wandering round late at night.'

'Thanks for the warning.'

'And you should know that all hell is about to break loose – all over the West. I think you might be the only man who can help to stop it.'

'Why,' interjected Paula, 'do you think Tweed is the man?'

'Because we have a vast network of contacts and we have some idea of Herr Tweed's track record. How did we build up this network?' She leaned back and smiled. 'Money talks – but payment of money to the right people gets them talking. If I may say so, we also know that Herr Tweed is a man of complete integrity. Not a lot of that about these days.'

Paula was reeling. She was amazed at Mrs France's command of English – so different from the halting way she had spoken back in Hamburg, but with a foreign accent.

'What would you advise us to do?' she asked.

'Stay here for the night. Then in the morning start driving to Travemiinde.' She looked at Tweed. 'Any idea where that is?'

'On the Baltic coast, just east of Liibeck. I have been to both places.'

'It's a bit of a drive from here, but the way you moved from Flensburg I know you'll make it. Just watch out for attacks the whole of the way. I have no doubt Herr Tweed and his team – including your good self – can cope with any trouble.'

'When do you want us to arrive there?' Paula asked.

'Oh, the late afternoon, I would suggest.' She smiled again. 'In any case, considering the distance, it will probably be late afternoon when you do reach the waterfront.'

'Why do we go to the waterfront?' Tweed asked.

'I was just coming to that. There is a section of the promenade called Vorderreihe alongside the river Trave. It is only a short walk towards the Ostsee from the police station. Just behind it is a big restaurant with a large open area with tables outside under a canopy. When you get there you sit at a table under the canopy near the promenade. Someone will meet you.'

'Who?' Tweed for the first time became aggressive. 'We are not going all that way without knowing who to expect. You?'

'No. It will be Herr Rondel – whom you have already met.'

'And,' Tweed continued in the same manner, 'what is all this about? What is going on? I need to know what you know.'

'Oh. They said you were tough.' She sat in the chair. 'There is the most dangerous conspiracy since the Second World War being planned – by powerful politicians, including one from your country. At this moment they are meeting secretly on the island of Sylt. They have to be stopped, to be killed. Before it is too late. Please do not tell the partners I have revealed this to you.'

'I knew it already.'

'I should gave guessed.'

'You are Milo's chief accountant? I see. I had to be sure. That is your main role in life?'

'Not quite.' She drank from the fresh cup of coffee Tweed had poured for her. 'I am a flier, as you now know. But also I am an expert on the Internet. That is important.'

'So,' Tweed said with a smile, 'you are aware that terrorists are using the Internet to send coded messages to trained terrorists all over the world – instructing them where and when to be ready to launch a terrible series of riots?'

'Oh.' Mrs France looked surprised. 'So you know about that.'

'I know a lot more than you probably think I do, Mrs France.'

'Please call me Gina.'

'Well, Gina, is Danzer reliable, trustworthy?'

'Danzer?'

'Oh, come off it, Gina. We're both coming out into the open with each other,' Tweed snapped. 'Now, is Danzer reliable?'

'Totally, Mr Tweed. Milo trusts him completely to succeed in any mission he is sent on.'

'And he's on a mission now. Does he speak English?'

'Perfectly. He spent several years in London training to take his engineering degree.'

'It's your own fault I have to ask you,' he said with a smile. 'When you came to see us at the Four Seasons in Hamburg you went out of your way to tell us a lot about Danzer. I couldn't be sure whether you were warning us against him, or passing on information.'

'It was the latter. At that stage I was nervous about saying too much to you. I will tell him when I get back about our conversation – but only with your permission.'

'Tell him.'

She stood up, after looking at her watch, gave Paula a great big smile.

'I have enjoyed being with you both. I must go now to the airfield and fly back.'

'You can't take off in the dark from that airfield,' protested Tweed who had also stood up.

'Yes, I can. It has lights which can be switched on from inside the hut. Lights which illuminate the landing strip.'

'You're not going to the airfield by yourself at night. Give me a minute…'

He went to the phone, called Newman's room, asked if he was still dressed, then told him to come over. He turned round.

'Newman is coming. He will escort you to the airfield, drive you there. He is armed. You will be safe.'

'Oh, you are so kind, so thoughtful… But I insist on going by myself. I am an independent person.'

She ran to him, kissed him on both cheeks. There were tears in her yellowish eyes. She took out a handkerchief, dabbed under her monstrous glasses.

'Do excuse me. Sometimes I get so emotional.'

'We all do,' said Paula with a smile.

Newman arrived and Tweed explained the position, that as Mrs France had been so determined to leave by herself, he had felt it best to accede to her request.

Oskar walked into the bar in Tender where Barton and Panko sat drinking. As he sat down he knocked over Barton's glass of beer. An ugly look came over Barton's face.

'Now you can damned well buy me an other.' 'Keep your voice down,' Oskar said calmly. 'You have been drinking in here instead of getting some sleep so you are fresh for tomorrow. It would be so easy to replace you. If they ever found it} your body would be floating in the sea.'

Barton was afraid of very little. But as Oskar stared at him with his bulging eyes his face lost colour.

'We haven't been here long…' he began.

'You should never have touched alcohol. You will both now come back with me to the hotel and go to bed. I have some instructions to give you while we walk back.'

He looked up as a waitress appeared and began to wipe up the spilt beer. Oskar's whole personality changed as he looked at her with a smile and gave her a Danish banknote.

She stared at it in disbelief, looked at Oskar.

'That is too much for the beer,' she said.

'No, it is not. It includes your tip.'

'That is so generous. I do thank you.'

He had continued gazing at her and she gave him a great big smile. Quite a lot of women liked Oskar. Barton cautiously made his comment when they were walking back along the street.

'That was a huge tip.'

'So everyone is "happy – and we do not get talked about. Now tomorrow you follow the blue Mercedes Tweed and his team will drive off from here in.' He gave them the registration number. 'While you were getting sozzled I have been touring the car parks of hotels in this place. They are staying at Hostrups Hotel.'

'We go there now,' said Barton, eager to make up for his mistake. 'We kill them while they sleep?'

Panko was grinning at the prospect. He already had taken out his knife.

'Put that toothpick away, idiot,' stormed Oskar. 'You come with me to the Tonderhus, go to bed. Get up early in the morning. I will drive you to the airfield. There you'll hide until I contact you by mobile phone to warn you they are leaving. You then follow them in your aircraft, however far they go. You keep in touch with me, using your mobile, tell me where they have gone to. Report to me constantly, then I can follow them in my car. We take the decision how to deal with them when they reach their destination. Don't fly too close to their car. Keep your distance. Use your binoculars, Panko. I have no more to say to you.'

'What time do we have breakfast?' Barton asked.

'At six a.m. If they don't serve it at that hour then you go hungry. Might help to keep your wits about you.'

As soon as Newman had departed with Mrs France, Paula tackled Tweed head on. Her way of speaking was emphatic.

'I don't understand what you think you're doing. You threw security and secrecy to the wind when you were talking to Mrs France. You gave her details of the whole conspiracy we have spent time, taken so many risks, to learn about. I think, if you don't mind my saying so, that you've made the one big mistake of your whole career.'

'Really, you think that?' Seated on a couch with a fresh cup of coffee in his hand, Tweed was amused. 'You do, of course,' he said casually, 'have a right to your own opinion.'

'You're not taking me seriously.' She stamped her foot. 'All our lives are at stake.'

'I would agree there.'

'Then why, in heaven's name, did you do it?' she demanded.

'Because at long last I have sorted out the negative destructive forces from the positive ones who are on our side, invisible though they may have been so far.'

'You have?'

She was taken aback. She sat down in a chair facing him, bewildered.

'I don't understand,' she said.

'You must have noticed the extraordinary change in Mrs France's personality. And in her appearance and manner. How would you describe it?'

'Well, when we saw her twice in Hamburg she was a nice but fuddled lady, almost like a flower-seller behind a market stall. I felt it difficult to believe she was chief accountant at Zurcher Kredit. Do you think I'm barmy?'

'No. Your impression of her then is not far off mine. But what about her now?'

'I was staggered. Hardly seemed like the same woman. She struck me as incredibly competent with an amazing range of talents. I can now see she'd be a top accountant. But she's also a flier and I think she does have an incredible grasp of the Internet. Her manner was so businesslike, so forceful. She even seemed slimmer in her flying kit.'

'So what are you worrying about?'

'The fact that you provided her with so much information, were so frank and open with her.'

'That was because I decided she was on the side of the positive forces. I'm not bad at deciding who is trustworthy. She is trustworthy. That was why I asked her about Danzer. What she said was further confirmation for me that she was telling the truth. That and other things.'

'Sorry I blew my top. I got it all wrong.'

'We all do at times,' Tweed told her. 'I know I do. But now we are in great danger. If I were in the enemy's shoes I'd make a supreme effort to get rid of us permanently, quickly.'

'Any particular reason for fearing that?'

'Yes.' Tweed finished his cup of coffee. 'The fact that they have Brig, Lord Barford on their side. I think he planned the attack on us off the autobahn. While it was going on I had the feeling a military mind was behind it. That encircling movement by five men aiming at taking us in the rear. They could have got us if Harry hadn't turned up with his Uzi at the last moment, seen what they were up to.'

'So you think we'll face another attack?'

'I'm certain of it. And it may be more difficult to defeat.'

Inselende was a large remote house located on the western coast of the island of Sylt. It had two sections with thatched roofs linked together by a circular section in the centre. In English the name meant 'island's end'. Surrounded by a moorland, it was close to where sandy cliffs dropped sheer into the North Sea – an ideal location for a top secret meeting.

It was well guarded. At strategic points FBI men with automatic weapons crouched out of sight in the heather. Uniformed troops patrolled the outside of the house and at the beginning of the only road leading to it roadblocks had been set up.

Further precautions had been taken. Although it would have taken climbers like flies to ascend the cliffs offshore, American patrol boats equipped with machine-guns cruised a short distance from the cliffs.

In addition, helicopter gunships with searchlights flew over the house and the surrounding areas. The beams of the searchlights swivelled constantly in search of any intruders. The President himself could have stayed there safely.

Inside Inselende a long meeting of the four participants -without aides – had just broken up for dinner. One man did not join them. Gavin Thunder had ushered Lord Barford into a small soundproofed room where they could consult on their own.

'I have very bad news,' Barford began. 'Despite all our efforts Tweed and his team are still on the loose.'

'I thought you'd planned to wipe them out,' snapped the disturbed Thunder. 'I know Tweed's reputation, his many successes in the past. He is the one man who could throw a very big spanner in our works.'

'I agree,' said Barford. 'I also know him well. We have to make a supreme effort to destroy him – before he destroys us. And time is short.'

'And I suppose you have no idea where he is,' Thunder commented sarcastically.

'He is at this moment in Tonder.'

'Where the hell is that?'

'Not so far from where we are sitting. On the mainland. A small town just across the border in Denmark.'

'Are you sure?' Thunder pressed. 'How do you know?'

'Because I am well organized. An hour or so ago I had a call from Barton. He informed me Tweed and his team are in Tonder. I even know the name of the hotel where they are spending the night. Hostrups Hotel.'

'Why was it Barton who phoned you and not Oskar?'

'Because Oskar likes to play it close to his chest, to take the credit. Mind you, I have no doubt Oskar has prepared a fresh attack.'

'I thought it was Oskar who planned the attack on the autobahn to Flensburg, which was a total fiasco.'

Barford thought it wiser not to reveal that he had drawn up the plan for that assault. Thunder was not a man who easily forgave mistakes.

'No, it was Delgado who planned the tactics. I met Delgado in Flensburg and he told me Tweed was in the city. Then he vanished with his whole team.'

'I don't like this.' Thunder had stood up to go to the drinks cabinet. He brought back two glasses of brandy, sat down again.

'I don't like it at all,' he rasped. 'Tweed flying all over North Germany. Appearing first in Hamburg, then in Flensburg and now just across the Danish border. He's up to something. The Americans do have the Secret Reserve here but they aren't really needed. We have more guards than we need.'

Barford took another gulp of his double brandy. He was worried. The Secret Reserve was a small group of highly trained men nominally attached to the Secret Service which guarded the President. But they had a lot of independence. He'd heard they were used to liquidate awkward men – or women – whose activities were inconvenient to the US government. He'd even heard they had been responsible for a fatal 'accident' which had ended in the death of a Senator. And they would not be under his control.

'A bit drastic,' he suggested. 'I've heard about the methods they use. They don't even waste time getting rid of the bodies.'

'I have decided.' Thunder stood up again after draining his glass. 'I'll have a quiet word with the Secretary of State. I'm sure he'll agree to loan them to us.'

'If you're sure this is a good idea.'

'Damnit!' Thunder smashed his glass on the table. 'Tweed has to be eliminated. The Secret Reserve – seven of them – will do the job. They are utterly ruthless. They can travel in jeeps from the motor pool on the mainland. Tweed will be no match for men like that.'