He had picked up the small red box with three buttons along its top. Two white, one blue. He raised the aerial as the staircase withdrew inside the machine. Then, to Danzer's horror, he saw an American soldier holding a rifle climbing up the hill towards him. Danzer froze. Movement attracts attention. The soldier stopped behind a bush and Danzer realized he was answering a call of nature.
Above the fuselage of the Sikorsky the main rotor and the tail rotor began to whirl slowly, then more rapidly. The pilot began to lift his machine carrying its valuable cargo off the ground. A squad of soldiers on the ground stood to attention, saluted.
The machine was about two hundred feet up when Danzer pressed the blue button of his radio device. The chopper exploded. Pieces of the rotors, of the fuselage, were hurled into the sky. The machine crumbled, fell heavily to the ground, lay there like a scrapyard. Danzer had expected fire but for seconds there was a terrible silence. Then the fuel tank detonated. Great orange flames flared up an incredible height, followed by black smoke. Danzer shoved the master control box into his satchel, ran through the wood to where his old Volvo was parked. The engine started immediately and he began the long drive to the north, into Denmark and across Jutland.
CHAPTER 45
They were leaving Berg Island. Stepping out of the elevator, the one with the shaft which ascended vertically through rock, Lisa led the way with Nield by her side. She turned right, away from the path leading to the quay where the steamer berthed. The footpath wended its way round the base of the mountain wall to the north side of the island. It was a long walk to where the Gulfstream aircraft waited on the runway.
The others followed in couples. The last two, trailing behind the rest, were Tweed and Milo. Ahead of them Harry had glanced briefly at where Rondel had plunged into the sea. No sign of anything. Rondel had come into the world, had gone out of it.
'For a long time,' Milo said to Tweed, 'I regarded Blondel as my eventual successor, almost as a son. Now, one day, it will be Lisa who takes over the Zurcher Kredit.'
'I'd say she's more than capable of doing that,' Tweed remarked.
'My late wife, her mother, was a brilliant woman. Rarely is an offspring blessed with the intellectual gifts of her mother. In this case it happened.'
'And in the meantime…'
'I must call Danzer,' Milo interrupted. He took out his mobile phone, then smiled. 'What am I doing? All mobile systems have also been destroyed. No bad thing. People so often used them for useless chatter.'
He hurled the mobile into the sea, watched as it vanished under the surface.
'And in the meantime,' Tweed began again, 'what will you do?'
'Devote myself to checking all the records in my different branches. With the aid of Lisa. I'd taken the precaution of duplicating the details on card-index systems, as we used to do. The computers will be useless from now on.'
'So we go back to the year 1900, a more peaceful world.'
'Yes. And I am Rhinoceros. Doubtless you had guessed that.'
'I wasn't sure,' Tweed said. 'The conversation we had in the garden of the mansion near Blankenese made me more sure.'
'The name 'Rhinoceros', which certain powerful international people call me, originates with the Frankenheim Dynasty I inherited from that last childless head. He had plaques of the head of a rhinoceros fitted to the walls inside the main banking halls. Perhaps childishly, I never disclaimed the name. It continued the Frankenheim Dynasty under a new banner when I seized control of the Zurcher Kredit Bank.'
'There is a curious telescopic electronic system at Eagle's Nest in Sussex.'
'I dealt with that. I sent Danzer to that house when Rondel was here. Danzer, an engineer, told me when he returned that the system to neutralize mine wouldn't have worked, but he dismantled it.'
'This struggle has been quite a saga,' Tweed commented.
'With unfortunate casualties. I will tell you now I was the one who first hired the late Mark Wendover, poor chap.'
'Why?'
'To infiltrate him inside your team.'
'To spy on me?' Tweed asked with a smile.
'To confirm finally to me that you were a man of complete integrity. Which he did – before a villain ended his life.'
'Oskar Vernon?' Tweed asked in a strange tone of voice.
'No. We must go back to Gavin Thunder, a ruthless man with an insatiable appetite for power. Dictatorial power.'
'So Mark Wenodver reported back to you where I was. And then Lisa took over reporting my movements to you?'
'Correct. She did a wonderful job. For most of the time I knew where you were – as you made your odyssey to find out the truth. Which you did admirably and with great courage.'
'Only part of my job. And Trent is an assumed name for Lisa?' Tweed asked.
'No. When she decided she wanted to be educated in Britain, she changed her surname. Inspired by a classic mystery novel, Trent's Last Case by E.G. Bentley.
'And how did you come to choose Wendover?' Tweed mused.
'My contacts in the States told me he had left the CIA because he disliked some of their methods. He then established the most effective agency in America. Mark Wendover also had a great reputation for honesty, a rare virtue in this troubled world. Incidentally, the Gulfstream can fly you anywhere. Hamburg? London?'
I'd appreciate it if the pilot would fly us to Hamburg. We can then catch a commercial flight to Heathrow.'
'I'll let him know.' Milo reached a hand towards his pocket and then laughed. 'It will take all of us a little while to learn to live without those wretched mobile phones. But the pilot and air crew are waiting and you simply give them your instructions.'
'What about the hired rioters who are waiting in large numbers all over the place to create chaos?'
'They will go on waiting until they get tired and disperse. The man in Seattle, called Ponytail, I understand, will have fled from his Internet screen, leaving behind the messages which will never be sent.'
They had walked a long way along the edge of the runway with the sea quietly splashing beyond. Now they were close to the large Gulfstream. At the foot of the staircase Lisa stood, like an air stewardess, her flaming red hair cascading down her back, ushering the team aboard. Nield stood beside her, arms folded.
Before they reached the aircraft Tweed paused and Milo halted with him. They looked at each other.
'It has been an honour to know you,' said Tweed.
'It is customary where I come from for friends to give each other a bear hug when they part. But I know Englishmen do not like it.'
'To hell with British reserve,' Tweed told him.
Milo grasped Tweed, gave him an affectionate bear hug. As they parted Tweed saw he had tears in his eyes. Beneath his impassive manner Milo had the warmest human feelings. He dabbed quickly at his eyes, stuffed the handkerchief out of sight. Tweed hugged Lisa before he boarded, grasping her with both arms.
'Take care of yourself, Lisa.'
'Sorry I lied about having an English father.'
'I will take you out for the finest meal London can provide.'
He hurried up the staircase. He did not trust his emotions sufficiently to look back. The pilot was already revving up the engines as he sat in the seat waiting for him next to Paula. The plane was airborne when Tweed looked back at the other passengers.
'Where on earth is Pete Nield?' he asked.
'He's staying for a while,' Paula explained. 'Lisa wants him to go with her to Stockholm. Sometimes, Tweed, you really are not very observant when it comes to human relationships.'
