'You bastard!' Stanton screamed. He charged forward and kicked Horn's
wheelchair over, spilling him onto the parquet floor.
Drawn inexorably forward by the madness of the scene, Ilse edged along
the wall until she could see Horn lying on his back. Erratic flashes
through the picture window fell on his gaunt face, contorted with pain
and confusion, Above him, Stanton, his eyes alight with maniacal fury,
held the gun in his quivering right hand. 'You talk of forgiveness!'
he shouted. 'Who are you to forgive?' He jerked back the slide of the
.45 and aimed at Horn's glass eye. 'What did you make my grandfather
do?'
'Nothing!' Horn said pleadingly. 'You have it all backward!
Please, Robert! I do not fear death, but I fear for my mission.
For your grandfather's mission. For mankind!'
Horn's voice rose in desperation. 'Do not end the work of half a
century!'
Stanton laughed wildly, then he tightened his mouth into a grimace and
steadied the gun with both hands.
last, Alfred!' ' he cried. 'It's long overdue!'
As if in a dream, Ilse raised Smuts's Beretta and pulled back the slide,
just as she had seen Hans do a hundred times in their apartment.
Stanton heard the metallic click. He whirled, trying to pinpoint the
source of the sound ...
Ilse fired.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Stern ran silently, swiftly through the house.
Ilse had described the triangular layout of Horn House to him, but from
inside, the myriad halls and passages seemed only to lead back upon
themselves. He had tried to always turn inward, toward the central
tower that Ilse had told him would lead to the basement, but each time
he was eventually stopped by the same obstacle-an impenetrable sheet of
black anodized metal. The heavy shields blocked every inward-facing
door and window he could find. The central tower and basement complex
had obviously been sealed for battle.
Stern paused for breath beside a wide metal door marked @NKENHAUS.
He had yet to find a telephone, and even if he found one, he could only
give Hauer the most general idea of where he was being held. He needed
a map. Who is attacking this house? he thought angrily. The Arabs
come for their damned bomb, if it even exists? In any other country,
the idea that a private citizen had gained possession of a nuclear
weapon would be ludicrous. But Stern knew that in South Africa no
normal rules applied. In a nuclear-capable state that had developed
beyond the scrutiny of any regulatory entity, anything was possible. A
man of Horn's wealth might well have been instrumental in South Africa's
nuclear weapons program, and God alone knew what price he would have
exacted for his aid. And if he does have the bomb?
Stern asked himself. What then? Visions of Israeli commandos
parachuting into the courtyards of Horn House made his pulse race, but
he knew that such a raid would not happen here. When he finally found a
telephone, he would not have time to make the six or eight calls it
would take to reach the proper members of the Israeli General Staff-if
they weren't out playing golf somewhere. And even if he did reach them,
what action could they take? South Africa wasn't Lebanon or Iraq.
Violating South African airspace would be a dangerous act of war.
The unofficial mot-to of the South African Army was 'Thirty days to
Cairo'-meaning that the South African Defense Forces could fight their
way up the entire length of Africa in a month. Few experts argued the
point.
No, Stern realized, Hauer was his only chance. Hauer was in South
Africa, he was one phone call away, and he was ready to act. Stern
wondered what the mandarins in Jerusalem would say if they knew the
future of Israel might depend on a single German.
Stern pushed open the infirmary door and looked for a telephone.
He saw an EKG machine, an IV stand, several laboratory instruments-but
no telephone. There were two doors set in the far wall. One was marked
INTENSIVE CARE, the other bore the international warning symbol for
radiation. Behind the first Stern found a plethora of life-support
equipment, but no telephone. Behind the second he found an X-ray
machine and table, a paneled door marked DARKRoom, fluorescent screens
for examining printed X-ray films, and shelves of manila folders for
stoning them. No telephone.
Stern hurried back into the hallway. After trying another half-dozen
rooms, he found himself standing in the library where he had initially
confronted Horn. Though empty now and shrouded in darkness, the room
seemed to retain some residue of human presence. Stern saw no one, yet
he felt something, a strange aura of awareness. Was someone watching
him from a corner? Uneasy, he moved toward the desk from which Horn had
interrogated him. His common sense told him to get out of the library
fast, yet his intuition told him he was close to something important.
He switched onthe green-shaded desk lamp and stared at the books lining
the library walls. They were standard volumeg, the generic fare that
adorns the shelves of gentlemen of great wealth but little culture.
Driven by a vague premonition, he stepped closer to the shelves.
He touched the books first, then the wood between them, working his way
to the corner of the library, probing with his long fingers. As he
neared the corner he felt cool metal graze his fingertips.
He peered between the shelves. Just where the wood met the wall was a
tiny brass knob.
He closed his thumb and forefinger over it, then gently pulled.
The resulting snick made him jump, but instantly a thin crack appeared
around a three-by-six-foot section of shelving. He pushed forward
slowly, slipped his arm into the dark cavity, and felt for a
switchplate. There. After ten silent seconds, he flipped the switch
and lunged through the secret door.
Stern recoiled in dread as blood red and black assaulted his senses.
The room beyond the door was small but high-ceilinged, like an upended
coffin. Great scarlet drapes fell from the vaulted ceiling, to be
gathered chest-high by black silk sashes. He felt an involuntary
shudder pass through his body. Sewn into the center of each black sash
was a glittering white medallion, and crowning the center of each
