The Romanov Ransom Read online

  “No voice mail?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” She ended the call and put the phone in her pocket. “Still not there. After what happened at Königsberg castle, I’m a little worried.”

  “Try again later. Right now, we need to see if we can find Renard’s friend before our map thieves figure out where we’re going.”

  Gustaw Czarnecki lived in the very forest that once overlooked one of the prisoner-of-war camps that housed the Project Riese workers. The winding foothills road led through a thick stand of trees, the pavement turning to gravel the higher they drove. A dog barked as they neared the cabin, and Sam saw someone pull back a curtain inside, then drop it. A moment later, the door opened slightly.

  The second Sam saw the rifle barrel, he slammed the brakes. A shot hit the dirt about five feet in front of them. He glanced in the rearview mirror. It was a straight line down that hill, making them an easy target. They had nowhere to go, he thought, as the door swept open. A stocky gray-haired man stepped on the porch, a rifle in one hand, the barrel pointed downward. The way he held himself and watched them, there was no doubt in Sam’s mind that he was ex-military. A black German shepherd appeared at his side.

  Sergei gripped the back of Sam’s car seat. “Why aren’t you backing up?”

  “Because if he wanted to kill us, he would have. Sit tight,” he told Remi and Sergei, putting the car in park. He got out, resting his hand on the butt of his Smith & Wesson. “Mr. Czarnecki? Sam Fargo . . .”

  The man stared at him.

  “Sergei,” Sam said. “Come on out, keep both your hands where he can see them.”

  He heard Sergei’s door open behind him and, from the corner of his eye, saw the young man stepping out, holding both his hands high. “Now what?” Sergei asked.

  “Tell him who we are.”

  Sergei did. The man responded, and Sergei translated, saying, “He wants to know how you know who he is.”

  “Tell him we were looking for Renard Kowalski. We found out—well, that his name came up as a friend of his.”

  Sergei repeated the answer.

  Gustaw gave them a thorough appraisal, not moving for several seconds. Finally, he leaned the rifle against the porch railing, told his dog to stay, then walked out to meet them. “My apologies for that greeting,” he said, his heavily accented English perfect. “I don’t tend to have a lot of friendly visitors.”

  “Military?” Sam asked.

  He nodded. “Wojska Specjalne.”

  “Special Forces,” Sergei repeated.

  Gustaw nodded, then gave a short whistle. The dog bounded down the steps, sitting at his side. Reaching down, he scratched the dog’s head. “What brings you up here?”

  “A tunnel,” Sam said. “We heard you’re a local expert.”

  “In other words, you’re looking for the Gold Train. I can tell you it’s supposed to be out on the sixty-fifth kilometer. I’m sure you can find someone to take you out there. Just not me.”

  “We’re actually looking for information on Obermann Ludwig Strassmair.”

  His brows went up a fraction. “What makes you believe this area has anything to do with him?”

  “Someone from Kaliningrad had a map that showed a possible route he took after he fled Königsberg castle, trying to escape the Russian invasion. It led us here.”

  “Sorry you came all this way. I only work alone.”

  “We’re prepared to pay.”

  “It’s not about the money.” He crossed his arms, his expression cold, hard. “It’s too dangerous. Leave.”

  Sam realized that this was a man who’d made up his mind and wasn’t about to give in—not in the usual way. Taking a gamble, hoping the man might change his mind, he said, “Based on the number of people who’ve tried to kill us trying to get here, you’re probably right. But thanks for your time.”

  And then he opened the car door as though he were about to leave.

  32

  Just when Sam thought his ploy to take off wasn’t going to work, Gustaw asked, “What happened? Who tried to kill you?”

  Sam rested his elbow on the car door, then gave a quick version of the armed men and the break-in at their hotel. “I’m only assuming it’s related. We know very little about all this. Which is why we’re hoping you might be able to help.”

  The man’s stance relaxed. “You were lucky. The Guard doesn’t usually leave witnesses alive.”

  “The Guard?”

  “Wolf Guard, is what we call them around here. Assuming that’s who came after you.”

  The fact Gustaw mentioned this same group told Sam they were on the right track. “Any chance there’s a connection with Unternehmen Werwolf from World War Two?”

  “My opinion? There’s no other explanation. Once the government officially announced that this area was one of the possible locations of the Gold Train, strange things started happening around here.”

  “Like what?”

  Gustaw looked in the car at Remi and Sergei before asking, “Who did you say you were?”

  “Sam Fargo. My wife, Remi, and our friend, Sergei,” he said. The man nodded at each of them, and Sam took that as a sign of acceptance, motioning for Remi to get out of the car, while he continued the conversation. “You were saying something about strange things happening?”

  “Strange?” Gustaw gave a cynical laugh. “Maybe that’s not quite the right word. What would normally be a pleasant weekend hobby, looking for historical artifacts, has turned dangerous—even deadly. The government might deny their existence, but they’re definitely taking precautions about closing off certain areas.”

  “Anything you can tell us about this group?” Sam asked.

  “More a theory, but I believe some present-day members of the Guard are related to Nazis enlisted into Unternehmen Werwolf during the war. Given their history, and their increasing numbers, I’m sure they’ve recruited criminals and the like to help. Which is why I’d suggest you turn back around. It’s one thing if you know the risks. I do.”

  Remi eyed his cabin and the surrounding woods. “Aren’t you afraid to live alone out here?”

  “I saw you coming up before my dog alerted me,” he said, patting the German shepherd’s head.

  “Cameras?” Sam said. “I didn’t see any on the way in.”

  “Hidden. I received an alert on my phone the moment you left the paved road and hit the gravel. Other areas as well.”

  “Set off by the weight of the car?”

  “Or someone walking through the woods too close to areas I happen to be exploring in.”

  “That sounds like a sophisticated system,” Sam said, hoping they might get more information with flattery at this point. “You set it up yourself?”

  “Most of it.”

  Remi, picking up on Sam’s lead, smiled sweetly. “I’d love to see how it works.”

  Gustaw studied her a moment, glanced at Sergei, then looked directly at Sam. “You seem like nice people. Go home. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt.”

  “What do you mean anyone else?”

  “My partner, Renard Kowalski, was killed by the Guard.”

  Sam realized he’d misread the man. His desire to work alone had nothing to do with the treasure. “I’m sorry about your friend. We’d heard it was a hunting accident.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “After what’d happened to us, we didn’t think so. Even so, my wife and I are well prepared to handle anything that the Guard throws our way.”

  “You’d take your wife, knowing how dangerous it is?”

  “There’s more to her than meets the eye.”

  Gustaw nodded at Sergei. “What about you?”

  “I know what the danger is,” Sergei said.

  The man looked at each of them, in turn. “If I can’t talk yo
u out of it, I suppose there’s nothing left to do than make sure you don’t get into trouble out there. Come on in. I’ll show you what you need to know.”

  He led the three to his cabin, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath their weight as they entered. The scent of pipe tobacco filled the air, the pipe burning in an ashtray near a blue armchair. A cast iron woodstove radiated heat, and the dog wandered over, curling up on the floor in front of it.

  “Over here,” he said, indicating a computer monitor on a desk in the corner. Displayed on the shelves behind it were a few World War II artifacts, including a helmet and several tarnished coins. He turned the monitor so they could see it. “My security system.”

  Sam watched the rotation of smaller-framed camera views on the larger monitor, seeing the cameras leave the pavement for the graveled road before switching to the front of the cabin and then the back. “You were saying something about cameras on other areas you wanted to keep an eye on? I only see three active frames here.”

  “The views of the house and the road leading to it are always on. It keeps me from jumping up every time I let my dog out. Or if I have to leave her here when I run into town. My phone alerts me if one of the other cameras activates. Right now, nothing’s going on out there.”

  “Definitely an impressive system. How many cameras total?”

  “Twelve.” He woke up each camera, giving them a view of the surrounding forest.

  “Twelve?” Remi said. “All to watch your cabin?”

  “Other than the road and my house, most of them are pointed toward the two areas I’m currently exploring.”

  “Not the tracks near the sixty-fifth kilometer?” Sam asked. “We heard that was one of the places they suspect the Gold Train was hidden.”

  Gustaw looked up from the monitor. “I thought you weren’t interested in that?”

  “Not specifically. We’re interested in one of the men who may have been responsible for hiding it. Or, rather, the route he took when he fled Königsberg. I have a map I can show you.”

  Sam accessed the photo of the original Königsberg map on his phone. “The route we were looking for isn’t on here,” he said. “We found out about that from a friend in Kaliningrad.”

  “Considering how large this area is, I’m surprised you were able to find me.”

  “We’re persistent, if nothing else. So why is it that you’re discounting the sixty-fifth kilometer as being legitimate?”

  “It’s still a very good theory. Renard got a hit on the area with ground penetrating radar. Definitely something down there about the size and shape of a train car.”

  “You weren’t able to dig there?”

  “The government wouldn’t let us.” He looked away a moment, eyeing his dog. “We were searching for the entrance when Renard was killed . . .”

  Remi reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sorry. We all are.”

  He nodded, took a deep breath, looking back at them. “There are several other areas not yet explored. But with the number of tunnels down there, who’s to say which one leads where? This hill here,” he said, pointing to the top far-left frame on the monitor, “has definitely held a lot of Nazi activity. That’s where I found the coins and the helmet.” He woke up another camera, two frames over. “Here, this is the other side,” he said, tapping the frame between them. “This brook originates at the tunnel and runs down between those two hills. I believe the Nazis diverted that water. That means they had to have done so inside the mountain.”

  “You’re sure?” Sam asked, intrigued.

  “Very. I found an old, hand-drawn map of the area from before the end of the war.” He pulled out a present-day map of the area, showing a location closer to the town. “The brook ran from the mountain into town on this side prior to the Nazi occupation. The farmers were able to use the water for their livestock. Once the explosions and excavations of the tunnels occurred, the brook was diverted here to the other side of the ridge.” He pointed to another location on the map. “The perspective and distance are somewhat misleading until you see the area in person. But once you’re there, you can easily see how a short diversion up at the top of the hill makes such a difference.”

  Remi leaned in for a better view. “I’m not sure I understand. There have to be several water sources originating in these mountains. What makes this one special?”

  “Because that’s where I found this.” He reached for something on the shelf next to the old German helmet, then held out a lapel pin with a small skull and crossbones on it.

  Sam recognized it instantly. The insignia of Unternehmen Werwolf.

  33

  As Rolfe listened to Leopold Gaudecker’s men arguing over where to start their search, Tatiana and Viktor, her ever-present bodyguard, walked in the door. She looked around at the chaotic scene before zeroing in on him. “What’s going on?”

  “Leopold’s men are trying to pinpoint where the network of tunnels starts and how the Fargos plan on getting in.”

  She glanced over at the table and the men leaning over the map. “Where did that come from?”

  “The Fargos.”

  “How?”

  “The Guard broke into their hotel room last night and took it.”

  “Are you insane?”

  He looked down at her, surprised to see the fury in her eyes. “We have the map. That’s all that matters.”

  “I warned you to leave the Fargos alone.”

  He was surprised by her vehemence. “Nothing happened. If they’re smart, they’re on their way to the airport. What I don’t understand is why you care?”

  “In case you’re too stupid to realize, the Fargos are known worldwide. If anything happens to them, it will be more than the local police investigating. You may not care that Interpol is breathing down your neck. I prefer that my business dealings are not under that much scrutiny.”

  “Calm down. As I said, they got away. Now, do you or don’t you want to be involved in the search?”

  Tatiana eyed the men standing around the table, then looked back at him. “I do.”

  “Then pay attention. These men know the woods.”

  She crossed her arms, clearly annoyed with the proceedings. Or, as he’d surmised before, annoyed that she wasn’t running the search, which made him wonder if that crime boss father of hers ever told her no.

  He turned back toward the table, listening to what Leopold was saying.

  “. . . We set up here and here.”

  “Why?” one of the men asked. “How do we even know that’s the right location? The sixty-fifth-kilometer marker is here. It’s circled. That’s where we need to be.”

  Tatiana wedged herself between Rolfe and the man standing next to him in order to see. “This is the map you stole from the Fargos? Why are so many places circled?”

  “Because,” Rolfe said, “that’s how we found it. No doubt Fargo’s buying time.”

  “So you don’t even know where the tunnel entrance is?”

  “We know it’s somewhere in the forest between here and the castle.”

  “Well, let’s hope you can narrow it down. There’s a lot of forest around here.”

  “She’s right,” the first man said. “Why are we spreading ourselves so thin?”

  A dark-haired man shook his head. “You’re all wasting your time. I know exactly where the Fargos are going.”

  “How?” Leopold asked.

  “When the Fargos were in the pub, we heard them asking about Crazy Gustaw. The bartender confirmed it.”

  “Who is this person?” Rolfe asked Leopold.

  “The only other man who knows the woods better than my men.”

  “Do we know where this Gustaw lives?”

  “The general location.” The man pointed to it on the map.

  “That’s within one of the circled areas,” Rolfe said
.

  “I’ve heard he has the entire area under surveillance.”

  “I don’t care if he sees us,” Rolfe said. “I care about finding what’s in that tunnel before he or the Fargos do.”

  “We can come in from here,” Leopold said. “If it’s the tunnel I believe, then it probably lets out here.” He pointed toward another spot on the map. “The sixty-fifth kilometer. Or it could be here.” This location was farther along the tracks. “We should have men waiting.”

  “Why?” Rolfe said. “Isn’t it more important to stop them before they find the tunnel?”

  “In case we miss them.”

  Thinking ahead. He liked that. “Good. Let’s get started.”

  “What about me?” Tatiana asked, then angled her head toward her bodyguard. “And Viktor?”

  Leopold clenched his jaw, telling Rolfe, “She and her man can go out with the roving patrols. Your call.”

  Apparently, Leopold was still sore over Tatiana pulling a knife on him. “Patrol it is,” Rolfe said. Not wanting to alienate her completely, he added, “With me.”

  “What about the Fargos?” she asked.

  Rolfe was regretting his desire to expand into Russia. “She makes a good point,” he told Leopold. “We need to do this without bringing attention to our actions. Try not to harm them. Anything else you want to add?” he asked her.

  “That should do it,” she said, then nodded to Viktor. “We’ll be outside, checking our weapons.”

  Rolfe waited until the two walked out, shutting the door behind them. He glanced out the window, watching until they were out of earshot, before turning toward Leopold and the rest of the men. “She may be afraid of Interpol stepping in, but I’m not. You see the Fargos, kill them.”

  34

  The brook was about half an hour’s walk from Gustaw’s cabin, starting from beneath a pile of large rocks and rubble that looked as though someone had set explosives in order to close off a cave entrance. They moved past the rocks to the other side of the ridge, where Gustaw nodded toward the top. “Up there.”