“And Janus?”
“Janus will be on the plane with him.”
Robert felt a surge of relief. “Thank you, Admiral. And the President?”
“I spoke to him myself. His aides will arrange a meeting for you whenever you’re ready.”
Thank God!
“General Hilliard has a plane to fly you to—”
“No way.” He was not going to let them get him into a plane. “I’m in Paris. I want a car and I’ll drive it myself. I want it left in front of the Hotel Littré in Montparnasse within half an hour.”
“I’ll see to it.”
“Admiral?”
“Yes, Robert?”
It was difficult to keep his voice steady. “Thank you.”
He walked down Rue Littré, moving slowly because of the pain. He approached the hotel cautiously. Parked directly in front of the building was a black Mercedes sedan. There was no one inside. Across the street was a blue and white police car with a uniformed policeman behind the wheel. On the sidewalk, two men in civilian clothes stood watching Robert approach. French Secret Service.
Robert found that he was having trouble breathing. His heart was pounding. Was he stepping into a trap? The only insurance he had was the eleventh witness. Did Hilliard believe him? Was it enough?
He walked toward the sedan, waiting for the men to make a move. They stood there, silently watching him.
Robert moved toward the driver’s side of the Mercedes and looked inside. The keys were in the ignition. He could feel the eyes of the men fastened on him as he opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. He sat there a moment, staring at the ignition. If General Hilliard had double-crossed Admiral Whittaker, this was the moment when everything would end in a violent explosion.
Here goes. Robert took a deep breath, reached down with his left hand, and turned the key. The motor purred into life. The secret servicemen stood there watching him drive away. As Robert approached the intersection, a police car pulled in front of his car, and for a moment, Robert thought he was going to be stopped. Instead, the police turned on their red flashing light, and the traffic seemed to melt away. They’re giving me a fucking escort!
Overhead Robert heard the sound of a helicopter. He glanced up. The side of the helicopter was marked with the insignia of the French national police. General Hilliard was doing everything possible to see that he arrived in Switzerland safely. And after I show him the last witness, Robert thought grimly, he thinks he’s going to kill me. But the general is in for a surprise.
Robert reached the Swiss border at four o’clock in the afternoon. At the border, the French police car turned back, and a Swiss police car became his escort. For the first time since the affair had started, Robert began to relax. Thank God Admiral Whittaker had friends in high places. With the President expecting a meeting with Robert, General Hilliard would not dare to harm him. His mind turned to the woman in white, and at that instant, he heard her voice. The sound of it reverberated through the car.
“Hurry, Robert. We are all waiting for you.”
All? Is there more than one? I’ll find out soon enough, Robert thought.
In Zurich Robert stopped at the Dolder Grand Hotel and wrote a note at the desk for the general.
“General Hilliard will ask for me,” Robert told the clerk. “Please give this to him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Outside, Robert walked over to the police car that had been escorting him. He leaned down to talk to the driver. “From here on in, I want to be on my own.”
The driver hesitated. “Very well, Commander.”
Robert got back in his car and started driving toward Uetendorf and the scene of the UFO crash. As he drove, he thought of all the tragedies that had occurred because of it and all the lives that had been taken. Hans Beckerman and Father Patrini; Leslie Mothershed and William Mann; Daniel Wayne and Otto Schmidt; Laslo Bushfekete and Fritz Mandel; Olga Romanchanko and Kevin Parker. Dead. All of them dead.
I want to see the face of Janus, Robert thought, and look into his eyes.