The Russian Deception

CHAPTER 36

Nick and the others were in Leipzig, parked across from the bank Stephanie had identified as the key transfer point for the billions going to Russia. The building was old, built of quarried stone, a survivor of the bombings that destroyed much of the city in World War II. It had a staid German look of respectability. The only indication it was a bank was a small brass plaque set in the wall beside the entrance.

"I can't believe that son of a bitch is still alive," Nick said.

"He might not be," Selena said. "Steph could be wrong. It seems unbelievable that he could've survived that fire and explosion."

"Harker said Steph is certain. It explains a lot, once you admit the possibility. At least it explains why those people came after you in Vienna and why Schmidt was killed. It doesn't explain why he's pouring money into Russia. If Steph hadn't tracked down the transfers we wouldn't have a clue that he was still around."

"Gives us an advantage," Ronnie said. "He won't know we're coming after him."

"What's the plan?" Lamont asked.

"I haven't got one yet."

"Why don't we get some lunch and talk about it?" Lamont said.

"You ever stop thinking about food?" Ronnie asked.

"Only when I'm not hungry."

"I could use something to eat," Selena said. "I know just the place."

Nick looked at her. "You know Leipzig?"

"Not really. My uncle brought me here when I was fifteen. He took me to a restaurant Goethe liked when he was a student. It figures in a scene from Faust."

"I've heard of that," Lamont said. "Isn't that the one with the devil?"

"That's the one."

Selena entered the name of the restaurant on the car's GPS. Twenty minutes later they'd found it. Auerbach's Cellar was located in the historical district near the market, in the basement of a glass roofed shopping arcade called the Mädlerpassage. It had started life in the fourteenth century as a wine bar, a favorite haunt of students at the nearby University. Over the years it had expanded until now there were five dining rooms as well as a bar on the main floor of the arcade.

"We should go downstairs to the Cask cellar," Selena said.

Downstairs they were guided to a wooden table under an arched ceiling covered with 16th-century paintings, including the one that had inspired Goethe. It depicted Doctor Faust riding out of a cellar on a wine barrel. Legend held that the barrel had been powered by the devil.

Selena ordered for them. In a few minutes the waiter was back with three dark beers and a bottle of water for Ronnie. The restaurant was only partly full. They could talk freely.

Nick took a sip. "Good beer," he said. He set it down on the table. "I don't see much point in staking out that bank. There's no reason for Gutenberg to show up there."

"He doesn't even have to be in Leipzig." Lamont picked up a piece of bread and buttered it.

"If he is, I don't think he'd use his real name," Ronnie said.

"He has to control that bank," Nick said. "I asked Stephanie to find out more. The bank is owned by a corporation."

"A corporation has officers," Selena said. "One of them could be Gutenberg."

"That's what I thought. The chairman of the board is a man named Kepler. Stephanie couldn't find out anything about him. There are no pictures or articles about him, nothing on record."

Selena broke off a piece of bread and dipped it in a saucer holding olive oil and vinegar.

"That sounds off to me," she said. "Anyone who controls a corporation that runs an important bank in Germany would show up sooner or later in some financial magazine. Every bank gets government scrutiny. There has to be something."

"If Steph can't find it, it's not there," Ronnie said.

"Can she find out where this guy lives?" Lamont asked.

"I asked her. She's on it."

Lamont smiled. "Here comes the food."

The first course was a thick mushroom soup served in a white porcelain bowl. Next came the main dish of breaded chicken on a bed of mushrooms mixed with onions and cucumbers on noodles, all of it served with a creamy sauce. They began eating.

"I thought the chicken would be the best bet," Selena said. "The meat dishes tend to be pretty heavy and they always load everything up with potatoes."

"Kind of salty," Lamont said.

"That's very German. They like their salt here."

They passed on dessert. Nick signaled the waiter for the check.

Jaques Dupree watched the team leave the restaurant. There was no need to follow them. He knew where they were staying. He'd considered taking a room there for himself but decided against it. There was a chance they might recognize him. The only photo of him that existed in official records was blurred and out of date. Still, there was no point in taking chances.

Dupree had lasted as long as he had because he was always well prepared. He never made the mistake of underestimating the abilities of his victims. His employer had sent full reports on each of the four targets. The pictures failed to capture the air of wary tension that radiated from the group. Dupree had seen it before in experienced professionals who needed to stay alert if they wanted to stay alive, an underlying explosive tension consciously held in check.

It told him that these targets were especially dangerous. If he wanted to collect the bonus that had been promised he'd have to render them helpless. He would have to separate them before it could be done.

He discarded the thought. Even if he succeeded in taking one, it would alert the others. Once they were on guard his job would become much more difficult. The extra money for making each of them suffer was tempting but it wasn't worth the risk. With these people he was only going to get one opportunity for success. It would be best to take them all out at once. His decision made, Dupree finished his coffee and signaled for the check.