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Authors: Colin Forbes

The Power (67 page)

BOOK: The Power
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'Norton here,' the familiar voice answered after a lot of atmospherics.

'Mencken. Phase Two of the experiment was a com
plete bust. I do mean complete,' he continued, piling it
on. There are two more players out of the game.'

'Plenty more from where they came from,' Norton
responded with his usual considerate regard for human
life. 'I am now sure our competitors, who are coming up
via Route Two, will return via Route One. There the
possibilities for the neutralization of the opposition are
more promising. You will now
assemble the team for the château.
'

'Understood,' confirmed Mencken.

'And I hope you also understand that our competitors
must never reach Colmar again. That would disturb me. More to the point, you would find it disturbing . . .'

Mencken swore as he realized Norton was no longer in
touch on the phone. His language was an attempt to
ignore the fear he felt from Norton's last words. They had
implied a lethal threat to Mencken in the event of failure.

Seated behind the wheel of his Renault, Norton drove on
up into the mountains after giving his orders to Mencken.
He was beginning to have his first doubts as to whether
Marvin Mencken was the man for the job. He'd decide
about that later.

Norton's next priority was the coming assault on the Château
Noir. It was just possible that Amberg had the
film and the tape with him in his castle. That would solve
the whole problem.

But Norton was not banking on this. He had his six in
the evening rendezvous with Growly Voice at Lac Noir.
Here he had a problem. He'd been instructed to come
alone - and to continue to conceal his appearance he
would have to go to this isolated spot by himself. It was
not a prospect he relished - meeting someone whose
identity was as secret as his own. He hoped it was a
rendezvous he'd never have to keep.

Finally, Norton thought, ticking off priorities, Tweed
and his team would be eliminated before nightfall. Phoning Mencken in Colmar, he had coded the way into the Vosges via Kaysersberg as Route Two - N415. The more
southerly way into the mountains - D417 - had been
coded as Route One. Which was where Tweed would
perish.

41

Paula gazed in wonderment at the Ice Age world they had entered at this high altitude. Massive snow-covered bluffs
loomed far above them as Newman guided the Espace higher and higher up a diabolical spiral. Suspended from overhanging crags were immense spears of ice like stal
actites. They were now near enough to the summit to
have lost the sun, driving in cold menacing shadow on the side road Newman had turned along.

She shivered inwardly as she peered up at the immensity of snow and ice hovering above them. She had the
feeling it might all topple on them at any moment, bury
ing them under a sea of snow and ice for ever.

'Don't think the sun ever reaches here,' Tweed commented.

'I think it's getting creepy,' Jennie replied.

'You ain't seen nothing yet,' Newman joked. 'Look what is coming up. Ladies and gentlemen, our guided
tour of the Vosges has just reached Lac Noir. The infam
ous Black Lake.'

Time we stretched our legs, limbered up,' Tweed sug
gested. 'We're close to the château and want to arrive fresh.'

'Oh, my God! What a horror,' Paula burst out as she
stepped out after Tweed.

Newman had switched off the engine and a terrible
silence descended on them. The Espace had been stopped
close to a low stone wall. Beyond it the waters of Lac Noir
stretched away - waters black as pitch and still as a pit of
tar, which Paula thought it resembled. Worse still, the
small lake ended at the base of
a black granite cliff facing
them - a cliff which rose vertical and sheer in the bleak
shadows. Paula looked slowly up the wall of the cliff and felt dizzy when she saw the iron-hard line of the summit,
the hideous medieval-like castle which stood perched way
above them on the high brink. It was the intense stillness
as much as the Siberian cold which paralysed her mind as
she gazed at the monstrous edifice, the fantasy brought
into existence by some crazy American millionaire
Heaven knew how long ago. There were
lights in the château
windows - there would have to be on this grim
shadowed side.

'A bit bleak round here,' Tweed commented.

'Bloody terrifying,' replied Jennie who had climbed out
after the others.

'That's a bit of an exaggeration,' Tweed said, aware the
atmosphere was affecting morale. 'Bob, I want to get up
to the château at the earliest possible moment - to see
Amberg

The drive up the narrow precipitous road overhanging
the southern end of the lake was a nightmare. Newman
had his headlights on as he drove up and round hairpin
bends with fearsome drops into the black water now far
below.

'Some Grand Tour of the Vosges,' Paula said bitingly.

'At least it's a unique experience,' Jennie responded as
she peered out of the window down the endless drop.

'One way of looking at it,' Paula snapped.

'One positive way of looking at it,' Jennie corrected
her.

'Are you trying to pick a verbal fight with me?' Paula
demanded, twisting round in her seat to glare at the other
woman.

'Why should I want to do that?' Jennie flashed back,
her eyes blazing. 'And I do have my uses - in case it has
slipped what passes for your mind, I spotted those men on
the ridge. Butler could be dead by now if I had not
warned Tweed.'

'All right. You were a help, a big help. You saw some
thing I missed and should have seen.'

Paula was startled. Jennie could be a hellcat, had
looked at Paula as though she could have strangled her. Tweed wasn't prepared to be distracted by a female dispute as the moment approached when he would confront
Amberg.

'If both of you would keep quiet maybe I could think.
So not another word. Bob, we must be close now.'

'We'll reach the summit within five minutes,' reported
Paula, who despite her altercation with Jennie had kept a
close eye on the map. 'From there it appears to be no
distance at all to the chateau.'

Tweed looked ahead at a moment when the snake of a
road was inclined at an angle of forty-five degrees. Butler,
who was still preceding them on his motorcycle, paused briefly, waved Newman on, continued the ascent on his
machine.

Glancing back over his shoulder the view made Tweed
feel dizzy. Inclined at this precipitous angle he was staring
down direct on to the deathly stillness of Black Lake - so
far below now he almost suffered an attack of vertigo.

'Don't look back,' he warned Paula and Jennie. 'That's
an order.'

Behind the Espace Nield was driving the station wagon
up the ascent with Cardon bringing up the rear on his
motorcycle. The system of the two outriders racing back
and forth past the vehicles which had been employed
earlier was now impossible. Any attempt by Cardon to
overtake the station wagon and then the Espace would
undoubtedly have ended with his machine falling over the
brink and plunging hundreds of feet into the still waters of Black Lake.

'I think we've reached the top,' Paula called out,
unable to suppress the relief she felt.

Butler had again paused, twisting round in his saddle to
give the 'V for victory sign. The road levelled out, Paula
risked a quick glimpse back, saw only a projecting rock
bluff which masked any view of the lake or the panorama
beyond. She swung her head to face front.

'We're home and dry! There's the Château Noir. A
grim-looking brute, but it's heaven to be back on
the
level. Home and dry,' she repeated.

'Not my idea of home,' Tweed commented. 'Just look at the place.'

Paula gazed at the high granite wall surrounding the great castle, at the huge square stone keep rising up
even higher
than any other part of the grim structure. Newman had stopped the Espace close under the lee of the wall, close
to but out of sight of the tall wrought-iron gates which
barred the en trance.

Nield parked his station wagon behind the Espace, got
out to speak to Tweed, and was joined by Butler and
Cardon. Tweed had jumped out of the Espace and stood
stretching the stiffness out of his arms and legs. It had
been a somewhat tense journey, he reflected.

'How do we handle it?' asked Newman as Paula and Jennie followed him out into the bitter air.

'Tactfully - until we get inside,' Tweed replied.

Paula gazed round, relieved also to be able to exercise
her limbs which had become tense with fear and anxiety.
At least on this side of the château they were in the full
blaze of the sun shining down out of a clear blue sky. But
still there was the brooding silence of the high Vosges and
she stamped her boots in the iron-hard snow to stop herself shivering. Cardon pointed to a wire elevated
above the top of the wall which ran out of sight.

'Electrified,' he commented. 'I hope Amberg doesn't
rely on that for security -I could neutralize it inside five
minutes.'

Tweed addressed Nield, Butler and Cardon after
checking his watch.

'I'm going to insist that Amberg allows you inside with
your transport. As soon as you're parked check the layout
of the whole set-up from the outside. Look for weak
points where an attack might be launched. Plan a defence of the whole castle

'You're expecting an assault?' Newman queried.

'Norton's objective right from the beginning has been to get hold of the mysterious film and tape. He'll think -
as I do - that Amberg has them in his safekeeping. So yes,
an assault is possible - even probable. Now let's hope Amberg is at home . . .'

Tweed left the others hidden behind the wall. Marching
up to the closed gates, he operated the speakphone he'd
seen embedded in the left-hand gate pillar, pressing the button below the metal grille.
He had to press it again before a disembodied voice he recognized spoke
.

'Who are you?' the voice demanded in German.

This is Tweed outside,' he said, speaking in English.
'I must talk to you urgently.'

'Someone else called here yesterday, said he was
Tweed. He was an imposter, an American. How do I
know you are the genuine Tweed?'

BOOK: The Power
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