The Lions Of Lucerne

54

Harvath walked as long as the cold and the time would allow. Although the idea crossed his mind, he knew he couldn’t stay up here all night; he’d freeze to death. As he turned to walk back to the main complex, he was joined by one of the many groups of hikers who had passed him along the trail. A plan began to form in his mind. It wasn’t a very good plan, but it was better than nothing.

When he was shot at, it had been in a relatively deserted part of the Jungfraujoch. He had chosen the Ice Palace because he thought the tourists would give him good cover. With practically no one in sight, the men had fired indiscriminately, almost taking out their female partner, whom Scot had now come to accept was Aunt Jane herself. He had counted on the fact that whoever he was meeting wouldn’t try anything stupid in a group of people. There was no reason to think that didn’t still apply.

With a two-and-a-half-hour train ride back to Interlaken, there would probably be a lot of people catching the one o’clock. Whoever was looking for him would undoubtedly be at the station, but the longer he waited up here, the thinner the tourist crowd and his cover would get. Even if he was able to get on the train without incident, surely they were going to follow him. That hadn’t been part of his original plan. He had expected to control the situation. At this point, though, that didn’t matter. He would think of something.

Blending in casually with the group of hikers, he asked them if they were on their way down. No luck, they were going in for lunch. Dejected, Scot scanned the entrance of the complex as they neared it, hoping to find three or more people he could blend in with. Up ahead, two families were readying their children, and Scot caught snatches of conversation that told him they were on their way down.

Kids… The last thing he wanted was for any children to be hurt. He hung close enough to the family to blend in, but far enough to one side that if someone really wanted to take a shot at him, the children wouldn’t be in the way.

Subconsciously, Scot felt crosshairs pointing at him from every angle. He had a strange desire to rub his forehead and the base of his skull to somehow wipe them away. As he entered the Sphinx hall, he heard the chime of the elevator and watched as a large group of tourists clamored out. They milled around and waited for the elevator to go back up and bring down the rest of their group. Scot abandoned his previous cover and waited with them. When they were joined by the second half, the group made their way to the train with Harvath nestled snugly in the middle.

As they approached the tracks, he noticed several passengers had already boarded the train and more still were standing on the platform having a final cigarette. Harvath realized that the only person he would be able to ID was the woman. He had no idea what the two male shooters looked like, or if there were any others he hadn’t seen.

Toward the end of the platform Scot noticed two solidly built men with wide frames who resembled a couple of bulldogs. His back tensed, but quickly relaxed again when the men were joined by their wives, who had gone back to the gift shop to buy one last thing. Harvath kept scanning the crowd as his group moved closer and closer to the train.

There! In the side passage. Those two fit the bill. Step a little farther into the light so I can see your eyes.

It was too late. Scot’s group pushed onto the train, and he allowed himself to be swept along with them. So far, his new plan was working. No one had fired. As far as he knew, no one had even seen him, but that was a sucker’s bet and he didn’t like the odds. He needed to assume that he had been spotted and the gunmen were waiting for their exact moment to take their shot. It would happen quickly, and they would have to be close. Most likely, they would create a diversion to distract people’s attention from what was really happening. The only insurance Scot Harvath had came from staying as close to this group as he could. He began committing each and every face to memory. In nineteen minutes they would be back at Kleine Scheidegg and he would have to change trains.

At Kleine Scheidegg, Harvath discovered he was lucky enough to be with another crowd of smokers. He’d never thought he would ever call being surrounded by smokers lucky, but today it was. The nineteen-minute no-smoking ride from the top of the Jungfrau had been more than they could bear, and as they crossed the platform to catch the next train, they all lit up, forgoing the gift shop. Harvath was able to stay right in the middle of them.

Even though the transfer time was only four minutes, it was the longest four minutes of his life. He could feel the shooters close by. He knew they were waiting for their opportunity. Harvath’s group was descending via Lauterbrunnen, and that was fine by him. Being such a large group, they had automatically accepted him as part of their tour. The bad hat and tacky windbreaker allowed him to fit right in. All he was missing was a camera.

The train whistle blew and the group boarded. This compartment was larger and they had been joined by faces that Scot didn’t recognize, but none had the eyes of a killer. Nevertheless, he had to expect that they had seen him and that the attack would come at any time. If it did, what would he do? He had only his plastic Glock. He needed to be preemptive. There was only a half hour until the next stop, which was Wengen. That’s where Scot would make his move. Another plan was beginning to form in his mind.