The Romanov Ransom

76

The next afternoon, Sam stood outside Dietrich’s bar, talking to Selma on his satellite phone. “You’ve got our list?” Sam asked.

“Already sent it to your flight crew,” Selma said. “They did an inventory check right before they took off from Buenos Aires. I found a store in Mendoza that has the rest of what you need.”

“And the helicopter?”

“I called the company that Dietrich recommended and spoke to the pilot this morning. He’ll pick up the four of you downriver, then fly you into Mendoza from there.”

“And he’s agreed to be on standby?”

“Since he’s based out of Mendoza, he said it wouldn’t be an issue. The only thing that might come up is that his wife’s expecting in the next few weeks. He’ll make arrangements with his brother to take over should she go into labor early.”

“Check that off the list. What else?”

“I heard from Rube,” Selma said. “Tatiana and Viktor have followed Leopold and Rolfe to Buenos Aires. They were seen at the property manager’s office. Leopold knows that you’re looking for Dietrich. He’s on your trail.”

“Not surprising. When we rescued Nando, one of the drug runners got away. Good news travels fast.”

“I’ll give Rube your location. Good luck, Mr. Fargo.”

Sam disconnected, then returned inside the bar, joining Remi and Nando at a table. “Everything’s set,” he told Remi.

“And Nando?” she asked, looking up from the map she’d been studying. “How’s he getting home?”

“We can arrange for a car service once we get to Mendoza.”

“Actually,” Nando said, “I was hoping I could go up with you. I want to help.”

“If you had more climbing experience, I’d agree. It’s dangerous.”

“And so are the men coming after you. I’m strong. I’ve always dreamed of going up to the mountains where my namesake saved so many. Maybe I’ll be good luck?”

Remi gave a supportive smile. “Hard to argue with that.”

Sam’s instinct was to tell him no. And yet, the fact Nando had saved Remi in the jungle by refusing to tell the kidnappers that she was in the vicinity was enough to convince Sam that he had the fortitude to persevere even in the face of danger. “Dietrich? You’re familiar with the area. Exactly how difficult are we talking?”

The bartender eyed Nando. “He seems fit. Considering that we’re bypassing the worst of it on a helicopter, an extra body at base camp will be welcome. It should be safe enough there.”

“And,” Remi said, “he cooks. So it’s agreed? I’ll call Selma and make sure she adds Nando’s list to what we’ll need in Mendoza.”

“Why do I get the feeling she already has it?” Sam asked.

Remi gave a not-so-innocent smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

At Sam’s insistence, Dietrich left a false travel plan with one of his employees who’d be running the bar in his absence — in case anyone came around, asking. Three days later, they set up base camp at the foot of the glacier in the Andes Mountains. That evening, Sam and Remi stole a moment alone from Nando and Dietrich, who were sitting at a table, playing cards, in the largest tent, which would serve as their headquarters and dining area. This time of year, the area below Tupungato was a colorful and bustling tent city, with dozens upon dozens of men and women prepared to make the trek up into the Andes. In the short time they’d been there, Sam had heard several languages. Spanish, German, French, and Italian.

“Quite the tourist attraction,” he said, nodding toward the twinkling lights of the tent city.

Sam put his arm around his wife as they looked up toward the summit. The half-moon cast a pale blue glow across the snow-covered valley below, the steep peaks silhouetted above them, as the stars glittered against an ink black sky. “If the plane continued on the direct route from Buenos Aires to Santiago…” He pointed up and to their left.

Remi looked that direction. “That’s a lot of ground to cover.”

“You have anything better to do?”

“Turns out, I’m free for the next few days,” she said as Nando and Dietrich joined them.

“You’re going up tomorrow?” Nando asked.

“Not too far,” Sam said. “Take it slow, get acclimated.”

“It’s not like the jungle,” Dietrich said. “A lot less oxygen up here.”

Nando laughed. “And a lot more snow.”

The next morning, Sam, Remi, and Dietrich set out, arriving several hours later at the area where Dietrich thought the propeller had been found. “Granted, I wasn’t here when they made the discovery, but I returned here with the man who was. This was the location he pointed out to me.”

Sam looked around the valley, seeing nothing but the spires at the foot of the melting glacier. Unless the plane had completely disintegrated on impact — which was highly possible — there didn’t appear to be anywhere a fuselage could be hiding, even one partially intact. “What direction do you think the plane was traveling?”

“Over there,” Dietrich said, pointing to their right. “I figured if it came from that direction, it might have clipped a propeller on that ridge, knocking it off. But there’s nothing. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been through this area, even with a metal detector.”

Sam took out his binoculars for a better view, looking at the high ridge Dietrich had pointed out. The sun glared against the snow, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Dietrich was right. The plane could have clipped the propeller there. He scanned the valley again, a different idea forming. “What if it didn’t come from that direction?”

“Then where?” Dietrich asked.

“Up there.” He pointed straight ahead to the summit. “What if the plane clipped the propeller on the summit as it was flying over it? As many years ago as it went down, that propeller would have moved with the glacier.”

“Where’s the rest of the plane, then?” Remi asked, the icy wind blowing against the fur trimming the hood of her red parka. “Even if the plane was in pieces, you’d think the debris would have traveled together.”

“You’re assuming it crashed on this side of the summit.”

Dietrich and Remi both looked at him in surprise, before Remi said, “But the propeller was found way down here. That’s a long way from the summit.”

“Gravity,” Sam said. “Think about it. Clipped at the top, propeller bounces down the summit on this side as the plane continues on its crash course on the other side. That propeller had a lot of years to make it down here. Every time the ice melted, in fact.”

“Good theory, Sam,” Remi said.

“Only if it turns out to be true.”

“It won’t,” Dietrich said. “I’ve been up there. I’ve looked. There’s nothing on the other side.”

“If we’re lucky, you’ve missed something.”

The next day, they climbed to the top of the glacial ridge, and Sam realized not only that Dietrich was right but Sam’s theory was highly flawed. For one, they were staring at sheer cliffs, which held very little snow, and definitely no place that could hide an entire airplane. Two, the plane would have to have been on an upward trajectory to make it over the cliffs of the next ridge, which was higher than the one they were currently standing on.

“Next hypothesis,” Remi said.

Sam stared for several seconds longer, then turned back, looking down along the glacier, trying to picture how that propeller could have landed on it. His gaze swung to the high cliffs on their right, and he pictured the plane flying past, clipping it instead. “Maybe we’re wrong about that downward trajectory from here, where we’re standing. What if it was up there?”

The two turned and looked as Sam pointed to the higher cliff on their right. He traced the direction in the air, and they followed along, as he said, “Starboard wing, barely clears that cliff, knocks off the propeller, which lands down here, where we’re standing. Plane continues on its downward spiral…” He eyed the cliffs, and ridges beyond the ridge where they stood, noting a few narrow passes that a plane could have hurtled through. “And lands somewhere over there, through the pass on the left.”

“You’re sure about the angle?” Dietrich said. “Because using that theory, depending on exactly which angle the plane was traveling when it hit, any of those passes could be the one. That’s a lot of miles to cover between here and there.”

“Exactly,” Sam said. “And why we have a helicopter and pilot on retainer.”