Crate of Lies, page 26
After locking the car he walked across the parking area toward the warehouse. A side door opened with a bang and Prewit appeared, armed with a Kalashnikov. Wainright was surprised how fit the sixty-four year old looked.
"Afternoon Mr Wainright."
Prewit, dressed in combat fatigues and with long greasy black hair falling over his shoulders, leaned against the door opening and spat on the ground. Tall and muscular, his red cheeks and smile belied an inner evil that flowed through dark piercing eyes. Wainright acknowledged him but didn't return any friendly gesture. The man was a necessary evil.
"So where are all the troops? Day off today? This isn't much of a headquarters." Wainright wrinkled his nose as he stepped through the door and caught the strong smell of body odour from Prewit.
"At the training camp back up in the hills," replied Prewit. "I don't have any of the men down here but I'm in control of the situation. There are always men nearby on call in case of unwelcome visitors. The cargo business is strictly legit…well almost." He laughed. "I don't want to mix business with pleasure by having armed guys down here. I've got three thousand members now from all over." He kicked an empty beer can across the concrete floor as they walked around a small float plane to the office. "When I have five thousand we'll rise up," he snarled. "The blacks are going first and then the Jews. Those bastards have-"
"Yes, yes I don't want one of your lectures on white supremacy, Prewit. What I want is a flight to Alaska."
Prewit's lips parted revealing yellowed teeth. "So you're running away. You do know several of the board are already arrested." He waved a hand at the radio on his desk. "The feds won't dare come up here. Remember Ruby Ridge?" He laughed maliciously and sucked through his teeth. "With an armoury full of Kalashnikovs, grenades and plastic explosives the feds know what they'll get if they interfere with me."
Wainright trod on some pistachio shells at the foot of the desk and sat in the large easy chair. The smell of stale tobacco was everywhere. A large, glass ashtray overflowing with cigarette stubs and ash sat next to a portrait of Reinecke. "I am not on the run. I have to get to a ship heading for Japan. I have something to sell that will have us back in business within two months."
"Okay so I guess you got yourself a piece of the hardware going to those bastards in Syria. I bet their mad at you."
Wainright ignored the remark. "I need to get to Cape Chacon."
Prewit rubbed his chin and shook his head. "Alaska…that's a long flight and way past maximum range. Your payoffs this year bought me a Cessna Caravan but she's not got long range tanks fitted-not that she's supposed to have LRT's anyway." He pulled a chart down from the shelf above his head and unrolled it across the desk. "See here," he tapped the chart mumbling to himself. "I could fly to Lake Washington. There's a refuelling pontoon there where I can top up. After that a long flight to the Cape but I'll need to refuel so a quick hop across the bay to Ketchikan." He looked up at Wainright and grinned with an outstretched hand.
"How much?" asked Wainright.
"Heinrich promised me a million if I helped him but he didn't say what for."
Wainright shook his head. "Heinrich doesn't have any money, Prewit. The delivery failed and we were not paid. I'll deposit a quarter of a million the moment we are in the air. Don't forget the fund the board set up. All those going to jail receive two million on release for keeping their mouths shut. That could well include you."
Prewit nodded. "Okay so when are we going?"
"As soon as we're loaded. I have a small trawler standing by off Cape Chacon to take me out to meet the Japanese ship." He paused before asking, "Is Heinrich after the Amber Room?"
Prewit's face darkened. "Our glorious leader gave that to us. No-one ever goes in there except my commanders. I'll put a bullet through that bastard's head if he tries anything."
"Would you really?"
Both men jumped together. Prewit's Kalashnikov clattered to the floor. The soft but chilling voice of Liebermann cut through the air. Wainright's hand got as far as the inside of his jacket before the silenced Browning's first bullet made a neat hole in his forehead. The second hit his chest. He slumped backward before falling sideways to the floor at Liebermann's feet.
Prewit had both hands in the air. He gulped and licked perspiration from his top lip. "I was only saying what I said to keep him happy, Hienrich. I wasn't going anywhere with him. You and me have an arrangement…right?" He smiled nervously.
"Of course, and I promised you a million for information that I don't need anymore. I wanted Wainright and the goods he was taking to Alaska. Now I have both." He pulled the stiletto knife from his inside pocket and held the point under Prewit's left eye. "However, you can take me and my assistant to Cape Chacon instead of Wainright."
"Yes, yes. Of course. Beads of sweat were forming on Prewit's forehead. He lowered his shaking hands. "So is that it, Hienrich?"
"You are going to show me the Amber Room, I hope. Is it nearby?"
Prewit hesitated. The tip of the knife had made a small cut in the top of his cheek. "It's a bit of a way to go, Hienrich." He gulped again.
"Really? Let's go and get started then."
Prewit flinched as the knife was withdrawn, leaving a thin trickle of blood running from a small cut.
Abdul appeared outside the door. "The boxes are in Wainright's car."
***
"We might be better off waiting until morning before flying out to Washington," wheezed Prewit. "We're too late now for refuelling." He pushed the second box into the underbelly locker with Abdul and fastened the lock.
"It'll take just over an hour to get to Lake Washington. The turbo prop gives us a fair rate of knots with a range of nine hundred plus so we can't fly the whole distance…that's about twelve hundred." He patted the fuselage. "We'll get our heads down in the plane. She's really comfortable inside."
Liebermann climbed the short ladder into the passenger compartment and settled into a large leather seat. "Abdul will take the first watch and you the second. Remember we are looking for two men so both of you keep your eyes open. Knowing Cohen as I do he will arrive in a boat so keep an eye to the lake's south end." He sneered. "Remember, I want him alive. I have a surprise ending planned for him. A bullet is far too good."
Abdul's head appeared at the pilot's door. Taking the Kalashnikov from Prewit he said, "It was good of Prewit to show us the Amber Room, Hienrich."
Liebermann exchanged glances with Abdul who stifled a laugh.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The noise from the rotors stopped abruptly and Harry flicked the navigation lights off. The small helicopter, fitted with floats, glided across the last few metres of water and gently bumped against the overhanging branches of a Hemlock. Raithe unbuckled his seat belt, hung night vision binoculars around his neck and climbed out onto a float. He hopped onto a large flat bolder, followed by Harry and climbed up the short bank.
"Prewit's warehouse is about two miles further down. According to Mary's information," explained Harry unfolding a hand drawn map, "that makes it around a hundred miles from Lake City and the tourist area at the northern end of the lake. Most of the shoreline this end though consists of forest. There's a community up here in the hills and forest you and I should be aware of. Loners or families that see little of the outside world, most of them are a law unto themselves. "
Raithe tied the painter from the float to a branch. "So how do we get to the warehouse from here? Walking, especially for you is going to be difficult in this terrain."
"We need a small boat with an outboard," said Harry looking at a small pontoon further up shore. "There's bound to be one over there."
They found a dinghy full of nets and climbed into it. While Raithe hoisted the nets up onto the pontoon, Harry scribbled a note and left it for the owner.
"There's a full tank of gas," said Raithe shining his torch into the tank.
"Okay, let's get out of here." Harry gave the pull cord several tugs until the small outboard spluttered into life. "Now, you lay down in the well, out of sight from the bank, or the moonlight will show two of us to a watcher. It's about two miles across here so I'm going out about a quarter of a mile. There are other small boats all over, most night fishing so we won't look conspicuous." He pointed forward. "There's a small navigation light on the bow and a car battery in the well. See if you can turn it on. We'll turn it off when we spot Prewit's place."
Seconds later, the dinghy turned to head across the almost still lake. It took thirty minutes before they slowed. With the outboard idling Harry picked up the night vision binoculars and scanned the shoreline. "Got him."
Raithe peered over the gunwale but saw nothing. He switched the navigation light off.
"We've come way too far," whispered Harry. "We need to backtrack and head for the shore some hundred metres from the plane."
"The plane? What's there?"
"They have three float planes tied to the pontoon. Anyone of them could be the one they are going to use. My guess is Wainright will be here with the missing rockets."
Raithe looked back at Harry. "What about Liebermann?"
"No idea, dear boy, but I am sure he will turn up." Harry patted Raithe's foot. "There's a tarpaulin under you. Pull it out and get underneath. When we reach the bank I'll get out and tie up. If there's any trouble you'll know what to do."
The throttle opened a little and they made their way back, heading toward the shore. Minutes later, the engine fell silent and Harry rowed the last few metres. He prodded Raithe. "Stay hidden until I give you the all clear."
Harry let the dinghy drift until he found a place to nose into. It was not until he stepped onto the bank that a figure emerged from the trees above him and a powerful light dazzled his eyes. He tapped Raithe's ankles.
"Been waiting for you," boomed a husky voice. "Where's Ravelle?"
Harry shielded his eyes from the glare of the small spotlight torch. "In hospital. You ought to know. It was you that put him there you bastard," growled Harry. He raised his voice as Abdul stepped down in front of him with pistol in hand.
"You expect me to believe that? I'm sure he's going to show up soon. I have a bullet waiting for him and I won't miss this time." Abdul looked down at the dinghy. "Maybe he's hiding."
"He's on the way with the FBI. You killed an innocent girl and you'll pay for that along with all the others you've murdered. He's not here."
"Well…just in case."
From beneath the tarpaulin Raithe saw the midriff of Abdul and the pistol turn toward him. With the Beretta's silencer pressed against the tarpaulin he judged the angle and took aim. As Abdul pointed the pistol in his direction Raithe fired twice in quick succession. With a loud cry of pain, Abdul fell to the ground. Harry fell on top of him, grappling for the automatic. Raithe stood and clambered out of the dinghy and raised the Beretta. Another round slammed into Abdul's head. Lifeless, he rolled onto his side.
"Well done, dear boy, well done." Harry, breathing heavily, took Raithe's hand and stood up. "We had better get out of here quick. The lights are on." He pointed to the Cessna at the front of the pontoon. "They must have heard the cry and seen the light flashing. Let's get up into the trees. I need to call Mary and raise the alarm. I promised the ambassador. The trouble is we don't know if Wainright is here or if Prewit is dead. One thing's for sure, we cannot let that plane take off." He bent for a moment, took a deep breath and holding onto some overhanging branches, pulled himself up the bank.
They climbed to the path and then scrambled into the trees. While Harry desperately searched for a signal, Raithe watched two men emerge from the plane. One ran down the pontoon while the other stood shielded behind the second plane.
"Prewit," said Raithe. "Liebermann doesn't run. Prewit is making for the warehouse…probably calling for reinforcements. Have you got-?"
Harry held his hand up and spoke into the phone. "Mary, call Garret urgently. FBI needed at Prewit's warehouse. The rockets are here." He flipped the phone shut and looked back into the trees. "Best we take no chances but are positive about the rockets and call in the troops. She'll get the message right away. It's now late afternoon in London. Come on, Prewit may be trying to get behind us. Remember he knows this place better than we do."
Raithe looked across at the Cessna. "At least with him away from the plane the rockets and launchers are not going anywhere."
"Damn!" Harry paused and turned to Raithe. "Remember the towers? Liebermann can fly a helicopter. I would bet he can fly a light aircraft too."
Raithe remembered their fight with Liebermann on the old wartime towers in the Thames two years earlier. Liebermann eventually escaped in a helicopter with what he thought was the Russian icon.
"Okay, let me-"
Harry ducked and slipped to the ground as a bullet thudded into the branch just above his head.
"Try to get to the plane. I'll keep Prewit busy. You must disable the plane or deal with Liebermann. I'll cover you…go!"
Harry opened fire while Raithe darted from one tree to another until he neared the end of the pontoon. From behind him came the sound of muffled shots. The silhouette of a tall figure moved off the pontoon and up the steps toward the warehouse. More muffled shots broke the silence. He moved forward cautiously, looking up the steps to the warehouse. The path was clear. He climbed up onto the pontoon and ran to the tail of the Cessna. Without lights in the cabin it was hard to see if anyone was still aboard. He crawled to the under belly lockers and opened the first door. His hand felt the end of a case.
The faint sound of a roaring truck engine came from the distant shoreline road and grew louder, turning into several engines as headlights arced around in the warehouse parking lot. Raithe crouched below the wing, moved to the cargo door and gently pulled the handle down. From the direction of the warehouse came the excited shouts of Prewit's men. The bottom half of the door lowered and Raithe froze. Wainright's body lay across the cabin floor behind the pilot's seat.
He climbed the short ladder and entered. There were only going to be a few minutes at the most, to disable the plane.
"Don't touch anything, Ravelle, or Harry will die without you wishing him goodbye. Our men have him in custody already. Put your gun down."
The quiet menacing voice came from behind him. Raithe turned and faced Liebermann.
"We meet again, Ravelle. This time there will be no heroics or fond farewells." He took a step back. "Get out."
"Have you checked to see if there is a rocket in the crate?" quipped Raithe. "I remember the last time you took a crate you ended up with nothing."
"Just do as you are told," answered Liebermann. "Now get down." He snatched the Beretta from Raithe's hand.
Raithe stepped back down onto the pontoon, annoyed he had not been more cautious. From the warehouse came shouts from a group of rowdy men. He hoped Mary had acted on Harry's message and FBI agents were on the way. Liebermann would certainly want to get clear now that he had the rockets and Wainright was dead.
"You'd better make a good job of getting rid of me. If I get a chance I won't hesitate in wringing your bloody neck, you swine."
Liebermann stepped close and pushed the nose of the Browning into Raithe's chest. "My, my, Ravelle, you really are a sentimental man with a big heart. Unfortunately I cannot grant you a last wish. Time is short. You will die with that dream but first Harry will die before your eyes. I am going to drop him in the lake and you will follow."
"You bastard."
Prewit appeared at the end of the pontoon. Behind him, two armed thugs dressed in combat fatigues held Harry, handcuffed with each thug gripping an arm. Harry caught Raithe's eye and proclaimed. "We got one of the swine, dear boy. The FBI will get more."
"Abdul's dead, Heinrich," said Prewit, pushing Harry in the back.
"A great pity, he was a good man." Liebermann faced his old adversary. "Hello Harry, what a shame we won't have time to chat like the last time we met. You really did well finding the rockets and unravelling our system. However, the real prize has eluded you…the one you and a few others know about. Prewit has taken great care of the room. Unfortunately, you will never see it before you leave us. What a shame."
"And you're not going to have it either, you bloody rat," snapped Harry.
Liebermann shook his head. "You are right, Harry. I have what I want. You can have the room if Prewit lets you have it." He grinned and looked at Prewit.
"He's getting nothing. The boys are looking after the place," said Prewit. "We ought to be getting out of here now." He pointed at Harry. "This fat bastard called someone on his cell fifteen minutes ago. I checked his phone. Are we getting rid of these two now?"
"Probably called the FBI once he found us," replied Liebermann. "We'll get rid of these two and dump them with Wainright. The extra weight won't matter…they can all go for a swim before we reach the refuel station. I'll drop them off a few miles down the lake."
Prewit sniggered and pulled Harry forward. "Hear that, Cohen? You're going for a swim." He looked down at the water. "Bit cold tonight but you'll survive for at least two minutes while you sink and rise and sink again, you fat bastard."
Liebermann's attention was drawn to the distant wail of a police siren that encouraged its entourage to join in. A stream of headlights and flashing blues along the shoreline road announced the arrival of the law. In the dawn light Raithe looked back at Harry, took a step toward the edge of the pontoon and winked.
Prewit waved at the two thugs. "Go take care of things. Make sure the pigs can't find the cavern."
Harry moved forward, pushed by Prewit. "Get on the plane while I sort your wonder boy out." He nodded to Liebermann. "I've got Ravelle covered. You take care of the fat man." He sniggered and pushed Harry again.
Liebermann waved his Browning toward the plane. "Get in, Harry."
