“And it got blocked up?”
“There
was
an
explosion
one
night
toward
the
end
of
the
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war. A stray bomb or something. The whole thing just collapsed.”
“So what’s here?” Tom pointed at the spot indicated by the painting. The man squinted closely at the map, then looked up with a shrug. “Nothing, as far as I know. Unless . . .” He looked at the map again. “Unless . . . yes, it must be . . .”
“Must be what?”
“The other entrance.”
“There are two entrances?”
“Oh yes. You see, there used to be two mines until they were joined up. That one was the smaller of the two, slightly lower down and around the side of the mountain a bit from the main one. It’s right next to a ruined cottage. But the entrance has been filled in too.”
“Okay, thanks.” Tom shook his hand. “By the way,” he asked as he turned away,
“when did the others get here exactly?”
“Hmmm. Let me see. About three days ago.”
“Three days ago?” Tom frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes . . . Yes, I’m sure.” The man nodded solemnly. “Because it was a Wednesday, and I always take Argento to town on a Wednesday.” The dog’s ears pricked up at the sound of his name.
“Okay.” Tom smiled gratefully. “Thanks for your help. Enjoy your walk.”
“We will. Come on, Argento.” The man clicked his tongue and they both set off, the leash snapping taut as the dog strained to run ahead.
Tom turned to face Archie, Dominique, and Viktor’s expectant eyes.
“There’s an old copper mine here,” he explained. “Apparently the main entrance was sealed toward the end of the war. Three days ago some men turned up here with mechanical diggers and made their way up there. The painting, though, points to another, smaller entrance to the mine.”
“Three days ago?” Dominique frowned. “That’s not possible. Renwick only got hold of the painting two days ago. He couldn’t have known about this place until then.”
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“Exactly,” said Tom. “Put that together with the hit men in St. Petersburg that we know Renwick didn’t send, and the murder of Maria Lammers, and it all starts to add up.”
“It does?” Viktor asked. “What to?” Archie added. “It tells us Renwick isn’t the only one who’s been trying
to stop us finding this. Whoever these people are, they got here three days ago. And they didn’t need the painting to find it.”
“Who?” asked Viktor. “If I had to guess . . .” said Tom, “the same people who hid it here in the first place.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
4:14 p.m.
Tom was armed with a compass, but it soon proved superfluous. The route up to the mine was easily identifiable even in the fading light, a narrow path that hugged the side of the mountain on a shallow rise, the ground plunging away sharply to their left. Even so, Tom checked their progress every so often, his CIA field training from what seemed like two lifetimes ago filtering back into his memory.
Although not steep, the path was hard going, the snow icy in some places where it had been melted by the sun and then frozen by the moon. Elsewhere it was soft and deep, and their ankles disappeared into the powder that had long since swallowed up any tracks that might have been made by the diggers that had preceded them up the mountain. They walked on in silence, the only sound the crunch of their feet and the wind whistling past their ears, its pitch growing in intensity as the altitude increased. Occasionally, a particularly vicious gust would spray loose snow up into the air, and then it would ghost around them, spiraling and skipping along the path, until the wind dropped and it would faint gracefully back to the ground.
Eventually the path began to level out. At that moment they heard voices, faint echoes carried
to
them
on
the
wind,
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and then the sound of a powerful engine and the dull throb of steel striking stone.
“Quick!” Tom shepherded them off the path, and they half fell, half slid into the trees that lined the steep incline that lay beneath it.
“According to the old man, that’s the main entrance up ahead,” Tom whispered to the others as they crouched around him in the trees’ shadows, their trunks thrusting above them like black marble columns. “From the sound of it, that’s where they’re trying to get in.”
“How are we going to get past them?” Viktor asked.
“You’re not,” Tom said firmly, sensing that his opportunity to split Viktor from her men had arrived. “Archie and I will go round to the other entrance and see what we can find there. You and Dom stay out of sight and keep an eye on these guys, in case they decide to try the other entrance too.”
“Niet.”
Viktor flashed him an indignant look. “If you’re going over there, then so am I.”
“Me too,” said Dominique, flashing Viktor a supportive glance.
“This is our mess, not yours,” Tom insisted. The last thing he needed right now was Dominique being difficult.
“It became my mess when my club got shot up and six of my men killed. We’re partners in this, remember? Either we all go or we all stay.”
“Look, I’m not trying anything on, okay?” Tom pleaded. “Someone needs to watch our backs. I’d rather it was you two, who I know I can trust.”
Viktor and Dominique exchanged a glance.
“Okay,” Dominique conceded.
“Fine.” Viktor gave a grudging shrug. “But you’ll take Grigory and the others with you. That’s the deal.”
Squatting on their haunches, their eyes expectant and alert, AKs at the ready, Viktor’s men exuded a menacing but at the same time reassuring presence.
“Done,” said Tom, grateful, in a way, to have them along.
“Let’s make sure we stay in contact.” He patted the radio in his pocket. “First sign of trouble,
you
let
us
know.”
the black sun 369
“The same goes for you.” Dominique’s voice was stern. “I know what you two are like. No heroics. Go and see what you can find, and then we meet back here to decide what to do.”
“Okay. And take this.” He handed over a business card. “It’s the number for the FBI agent who helped us out in St. Petersburg. If anything happens, call him. He’ll be able to get some people up here.”
After a final weapons check, Tom, Archie, and Viktor’s three men headed off, the sharp hiss of the wind slithering through the trees alongside them and occasionally coiling around their ankles. Above them the slanted curtain of snow ripped itself on the sharp branches overhead, dropping to the ground in narrow ribbons. About half a mile on, Archie gave a low whistle and pointed ahead of him. As the old man had predicted, the ruins of a cottage lay in a small clearing, its brick foundations grimy with age, poking through the snow like tree stumps blackened by fire. And next to them, disappearing into the side of the mountain, was an opening just large enough to stand up in. An opening that, judging from the large pile of earth and rubble below it, staining the snow like a pool of spilled black ink, had only recently been excavated.
“Someone’s already here,” Archie whispered, scanning the trees that encircled them. Tom edged warily across the clearing and knelt to examine the footprints leading to the entrance.
“I’d say there’s six or seven of them. No more.” With Archie at his side, he padded silently to the side of the entrance and peered in. “It’s Renwick, it must be. He’s the only other person who could have got this location from the painting. But if he’s had to dig out this lot by hand, I doubt he’s been inside very long.”
“We should radio the others,” said Archie. “Tell them what we’ve found.”
“I suppose so.” Tom didn’t sound convinced.
“Or . . . ?”
“Or
what?”
370 james twining
“Or, we could have a quick look inside ourselves. See if he’s still down there.”
“If we told them, they’d only want to come in with us,” said Tom, nodding. “You know what Dom’s like. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“Besides, if it is Renwick down there, I’d rather we had the bastard to ourselves.”
“I agree.” Tom clenched his jaw. “There’s five of us, seven of them. That’s not bad odds.”
“Plus, they won’t be expecting us,” Archie added.
“You’re
right.
Let’s
end
this
now.”
4:56 p.m.
Where are you going?” Dominique asked Viktor, the
expression on her face mirroring her surprise. “To take a look at what is happening up there.” “But Tom said to wait here.” “Do you always do what Tom tells you?” asked Viktor
with a smile. “It depends.” “You don’t trust me, do you?” “I don’t know you.” There was a pause. Viktor appeared to be considering
what to say. “Here,” she said eventually, reaching into the leather holster strapped under her arm, “know how to use one of these?” She held out a .38.
“Yeah.” Back when she’d been living rough, a boyfriend had taught her how to handle a gun. Luckily it was a skill she’d never had to use. Until now, at least.
“It’s loaded,” Viktor said as she handed it to her. “Maybe that’ll help you trust me a bit more.” Dominique snapped the gun open, checked the barrels, then flipped it shut again. It was loaded as Viktor had promised. “It takes more than a loaded gun to make me trust someone,” Dominique observed wryly.
372 james twining
“Not in Russia.” Viktor smiled. “Now, if we stay out of sight down here in the trees and follow the side of the path, we might be able to find a place where we can take a look over the edge.”
Despite Dominique’s reservations, there was something about Viktor’s reckless energy that Dominique could not help but like. Perhaps she recognized similar traits in herself.
“Okay.” She slipped the gun into her jacket. “Let’s take a look.”
They set off, the snow thick where it had drifted, the steep embankment that led up to the path above them marked by occasional animal tracks.
The sounds of machinery grew ever louder, accompanied now by the throaty roar of at least one engine, maybe two, and the occasional shout or burst of laughter from the crew excavating the mine entrance.
“Get back,” Dominique hissed, pulling Viktor farther back into the trees as she heard someone approaching.
A man appeared above them. Visible only from the knees up, his ghostly silhouette seemed to hover in the air. He was wearing a white alpine-commando-style ski outfit, with a submachine gun slung casually over his shoulder.
Peering up at him through the branches, Dominique could just about make out the glowing ember of a cigarette in his mouth. He took a final draw on it, the tip flaring and momentarily staining his cheeks red, before plucking it from his mouth and flicking it away. The butt sailed through the air and struck the branches above where they were crouched, exploding in a firework of orange sparkles that melted into the air. A name was called and, grumbling, the man turned and floated out of sight.
They continued around the side of the mountain, keeping the edge of the path above them in sight at all times, until, the noise fading slightly, they felt that they had moved a safe distance beyond the main center of activity.
“I’ll go first,” Viktor volunteered. Digging the points of her boots into the snow and using the branches of the surrounding trees to pull herself up, she quickly scrambled her way
to
the black sun 373
a position from which she was able to get her head just above the edge of the path for a clear view of what was happening.
“What can you see?” Dominique called in a low voice. Viktor reached for her binoculars.
“I count . . . twenty people. About half are armed like that man we just saw. The others must be operating the machinery, judging from the way they’re dressed.”
“I’m coming up,” Dominique replied.
A few moments later, Dominique pulled herself into position at Viktor’s side. Viktor handed her the binoculars.
Some of the men were standing around in small groups, talking and smoking. Others, dressed in hard hats and thick blue jackets with reflective strips sewn onto them, seemed to be overseeing the excavation efforts, as Viktor had suggested. A large digger and a bulldozer were attacking the side of the mountain. Already they had exposed a wide tunnel, the spoil having been dumped on either side of the entrance in hulking ramparts of soil and rock. Two generators powered several lights that washed the whole scene in a yellowish sodium hue.
Suddenly a shout went up. A man raced toward the entrance and then signaled to the armed men. Though they couldn’t make out what had been said, from the way the men began to check their weapons, Viktor and Dominique had no difficulty in interpreting the signal.
“They’re nearly through,” Viktor whispered. “Get on the radio to Tom. Let him know.”
“Okay,” said Dominique, reaching into her pocket. She depressed the call button and whispered softly, “Tom, are you there? Come in, Tom.”
There was nothing but the muffled hiss of static.
“Come in, Tom,” she called again.
Still nothing.
“He’s not answering,” she said.
“They must be out of range.”
“Not likely,” Dominique said bitterly. “These things go for miles, and we’re still all on the same side of the mountain. No, if I know Tom and Archie, they’ve probably found a way
inside
and
used
it.”
374 james twining
“In that case, we’ve got to get down there and warn them.”
“Agreed,” said Dominique. “Hold up. Who’s that?”
“Which one?”