'Yes, of course. But first, Rudi must search you, Sergeant Grendal. It is merely a, uh.'
'Formality?' Bolan offered.
'Right. A formality.'
'This better be a hell of a fraternity.' Bolan leaned up against the wall of the cabin as Rudi frisked him roughly, occasionally using the wood club to prod.
Bolan endured the search for concealed weapons silently. He had planted Gadgets's transmitter within the Saab, rather than on his person.
He would need that transmitter. It was Grimaldi's means for locating the scene of action in order to pick up the hostages.
Rudi finished up his search and gave Bolan one last prod with his log. 'Just this,' he growled, tossing, the Beretta to Thomas.
'Clean of heart, pure of spirit,' Bolan laughed, turning around. He smiled at Thomas and Tanya in turn, but let his smile rest on Rudi for a few extra seconds.
In those seconds, although his expression did not change, Bolan conveyed a silent message, a promise of things to come.
The driver, Hans, came out of one of the cabins, a mug of steaming coffee cupped in both hands. 'Was noch?' he asked Thomas.
'Unload the weapon and drive the car to Munich. Wait there for further instructions.'
Thomas then opened the cabin door and waved Bolan in. ''Shall we, Sergeant Grendal?'
Bolan entered the cabin without looking back at the car. Within a few minutes the transmitter would be on its way to Munich, with Jack Grimaldi following close behind, pursuing a signal and waiting for a coded message. Well, yeah, the Executioner had been alone before. Maybe he preferred it that way.
11
Jack Grimaldi flew the chopper with one eye on the sky and one on the maps spread out next to him. He had not eaten since yesterday afternoon, and was only now paying attention to the grumbling sounds of his stomach. 'Easy does it,' he said to his stomach. 'Dr. Grimaldi has a nice big dose of sauerbraten waiting for you. Just a few more miles.' He had followed the signal for almost thirty kilometers now, and there was no doubt where it was heading. The driving was slow and steady. Not like on the way down from Frankfurt, when the car had rocketed along the Autobahn at 150 kph. No, this driver was in no hurry, he had no major drive ahead.
Grimaldi nodded his head and smiled. In a few minutes he would be able to set his babying down and phone in the target area. Within an hour the hotspot would be pinpointed and surrounded with ground support.
Grimaldi would be at his receiver and waiting for the final countdown from Striker. Yeah, within an hour, all their forces would be concentrated on the car's destination.
Munich.
12
'Just what have you heard about us?' Thomas asked.
'That you're the slimiest group of killers on three continents,' Bolan said.
Rudi lurched forward, gripping his log, but Thomas held him back with a laugh. 'Ha, within the next two days we should improve upon that image, eh, Rudi? Tanya? Ha!'
Bolan yawned. 'Everyone should have a goal, I guess.'
'And what is your goal, Sergeant Grendal?' asked Thomas.
'Money,' Tanya answered for him. There was contempt in her voice.
'You have no strong political loyalties. Ideologies?' persisted her brother.
'Just one,' said Bolan. 'Don't give credit.' Just give blame, he might have said, in this world of terror where blame is hushed by fear.
'Admirable,' Tanya sneered.
Thomas flopped back on his unmade cot and propped his head against the rough wooden wall.
Tanya sat on a large tree stump that served as a stool near the fireplace. Rudi leaned his three-hundred- plus against the front door like a thick slab of iron. Bolan went over to the canteen on the wooden table, unscrewed the cap, wiped the opening, took a long tug of water. Then he screwed the cap back on and said to Thomas. 'Hope you don't mind?'
Thomas shook his head.
It was uncanny how much Tanya and Thomas looked alike. Sure, they had the same black hair that came to a dagger's point over their forehead.
But there was more to it than that. They moved alike, with the same graceful yet deadly intent, as if they were always sneaking up on something. But there were differences too, particularly in the eyes. Tanya's were calm and cold, with only a minimal sign of emotion.
She intellectualized everything, categorized it, dealt with it purely logically. Not so Thomas.
Though his eyes were the same pale blue as his sister's, the whites were different. Little thin veins like jagged red lightning bolts shot from the corners of them toward the pupils. Bloodshot, like an alcoholic's. Although he seemed to maintain a cool exterior, something ominous was bubbling beneath his surface: and just barely beneath.
'So let's quit doing the goosestep and get down to business,' Bolan suggested.
Thomas Morganslicht smiled, without humor in his eyes. 'The point, Sergeant Grendal, is that my friends and I had a tightly knit organization until you came along and disposed of Klaus.'
Rudi's lips curled into a snarl.
'Oh, don't mind Rudi here,' said Thomas. 'Hi and Klaus were friends and Rudi does not make friends easily.'
'He doesn't look like he could make his bed easily.'
'I'm afraid Rudi does not much like you,' advised Tanya.
'I'm crushed.'
'You might be,' Tanya added, 'if Rudi ever got his hands on you.'
'Look,' Bolan said, 'I'd like to help you guys out. I could use the business. So give me a thousand marks for that H and K that I brought here and I'll be on my way. A ride would be appreciated.'
Thomas held up his hand. 'Tanya also tells me you are an expert with weapons.'
'I know my business.'
Thomas pulled out his Luger and pointed it at Bolan. 'What do you know about this?'
'Just three things. It's a 9mm Luger. It's one of the newer versions that the Mauser Jagdwafig factory began producing in 1971. And I'm getting real tired of looking down its barrel.'
Bolan turned for the door. Things were clearly not going well. He still did not know why they had kidnapped the athletes. Rudi leered unpleasantly as Bolan approached him.
Suddenly Bolan asked: 'How much?'
Tanya looked up surprised. 'How much what?'
'How much is my percentage if I arrange for all of the weapons you want?'
'I thought you...'
'I have a source, okay? It's not a straight buy, you're going to have to take them, but they're the best you can get. Galil SAR short automatic rifles, effective up to five hundred meters with caliber five point five-six millimeters NATO. The Israelis make them with wire cutters in the bipods and bottle openers on the butt. They also have a new shipment of nine millimeter Parabellum Mini Uzis with twelvefifty rpms.'
Thomas sat up off the cot. 'How many?' he said coolly.
'Enough to outfit this little group.'
