sight for one moment.'
'Liar!' Natterman exploded.
'You didn't argue against forcible rescue until I said I wasn't
including you in the plan. Do you deny that?'
'How dare you!' Spittle flew from the old man's lips.
'You fool! You're not qualified to handle this alone! You think you're
chasing a neo-Nazi group called Phoenix? Then how do you explain the
tattooed eye? The Phoenix is a bird rising from the flames, not an eye.
Phoenix is the Greek name of the Egyptian god Bennu. The tattooed Eye
is also Egyptian-it's the Guarding Eye, the All-Seeing Eye, the Eye of
God from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.
Explain that to me, Captain!'
Hauer shrugged. 'The Nazis used all kinds of rituals and mythology.'
'Yes! But Teutonic and Arthurian mythology almost exclusively!
So, how do you explain the Egyptian symbols?'
Hauer remained silent while he digested Natterman's revelations.
'Professor,' he said finally, 'if you care about your granddaughter you
will write down everything you just told me, and you will stay by the
telephone so that you can provide us with any other information we
need.'
'But I can go with you!' Natterman insisted. 'I can keep UP !'
'Enough!' Hans cried, turning from the window. He stabbed a finger at
Natterman. 'My decision's made. We're taking Ilse back, and my father
is in command from this point forward.'
Natterman opened his mouth to continue, but the corpulent forger flung
open the bedroom door and waddled into the room. 'All done,' he
announced. 'Excellent work, if I do say so myself' Natterman stared at
Hauer in silent fury, then he stormed into the bedroom and slammed the
door.
The forger held the fruits of his labor beneath the overhead light for
Hauer's inspection. The passport bore two excellent frontal shots of
Hans and Hauer, taken against the screen in the bedroom. Both wore
fashionable jackets provided by the forger and looked every inch wealthy
business M GREG ILE'S men. At Hermann's suggestion Hauer had shaved
his mustache; it was the first time he had seen himself without it in
twenty years. He looked ten years younger. With an artist's eye,
Hermann had quickly noted the resemblance between Hans and Hauer and had
suggested they travel as father and son. That way, he'd said, they
would only have to remember one surname-Weber.
'They are good,' Hauer agreed.
'The best you'll find, east of Brussels,' Hermann assured him.
'You're lucky Germans don't need visas for South Africa. I didn't have
one to work from.'
'Start the car, Hans,' Hauer commanded.
Hans was gone in an instant. Hauer picked up the passports and slipped
them into his coat pocket. 'Aren't you forgetting something?'
he said to the forger.
Hermann made a painful grimace. It was bad enough being forced to work
for it-ee, but to be robbed. The mind simply boggled. The consequences
of refusal, however, were unthinkable. Eight years ago Hauer had sent
the forger to Berlin's Moabit Prison, where he had endured six years of
living hell. Upon release he had resettled in Hamburg to escape Hauer's
prying eyes, but it hadn't worked. Hauer had kept abreast of his
current activities, and he'd made it painfully clear tonight that one
phone call to Hamburg could put Hermann right back into prison for
another stretch. What the hell? Hermann rationalized. Ten thousand
marks isn't too high a price forfreedom.
He could make back the money on just four passports. He walked to the
sofa, reached into his leather camera bag, and brought out a stuffed
manila envelope.
After counting the banknotes, Hauer slipped them into his pocket.
'Nice doing business with you again, Hermann,' he said. 'Now I want you
to wait for me right here.'
He slipped into the bedroom and closed the door. Professor Natterman
sat fuming on the strip@ mattress, holding his hand against his bandaged
nose. 'Professor,' said Hauer, 'here is where we make our peace. I'm
going to South Africa to bring back your granddaughter. I could simply
walk out of here, but I realize that would be stupid. You know things
that could help me. The question is, will you?'
Natterman said nothing; Hauer went on anyway. He needed the professor's
information, but he also wanted to leave the old man some dignity. 'I
don't trust that forger,' he said. 'I need an hour's head start on him.
I want yo, make sure he stays here at least that long. Once he's gone,
shut the cabin, take your things, and drive that Jaguar back to Berlin.
The car belongs to a man nwned Ochs. Here's his card.
'That car's shot to pieces!' Natterman protested.
-You shot it,' Hauer reminded him. 'Just get it back to him.
He's a Jew, he'll understand. After you've delivered the car, stock up
on enough food to last a week, then get hold of any research materials
you'll need to answer questions about Prisoner Number Seventhe Egyptian
god Bennu, South Africa, and anything else you think might be relevant.
Ten hours from now I want you by your office telephone continuously.
Sleep by it. I've got to know I can count on you. 19
Outside, the borrowed Audi rumbled to life. With a last look at
Natterman, Hauer left the old man sitting on the bed.
He glared at the forger as he passed through the front room.
'Don't get anxious and try to leave too soon, Hermann.'
The forger's eyes bulged. Hauer turned. Behind him stood Professor
Natterman, the double-barreled Mannlicher in his hands.
Hauer offered his hand. 'Auf Wiederse@n, Professor. Be careful, eh?'
After a moment's hesitation, the old historian took Hauer's hand and
squeezed hard. 'You bring my granddaughter back, Captain.'
'You have my word.'
'And you bring back those papers!'
Hauer nodded once, then he ducked out of the cabin.
Natterman heard a car door slam, then the roar of the Audi as it raced
up the access road. Hermann Rascher stared at the old man, mystified by
the scene he had just witnessed.
'You know, Professor,' he said, 'there's really no reason for us to hang
