And the laughter that they shared. The wonderful laughter…
The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “We’ll be landing in Zurich in ten minutes, Commander.”
Robert Bellamy’s thoughts snapped back to the present, to his assignment. In his fifteen years with Naval Intelligence, he had been involved in dozens of challenging cases, but this one promised to be the most bizarre of them all. He was on his way to Switzerland to find a busload of anonymous witnesses who had disappeared into thin air. Talk about looking for a needle in a haystack. I don’t even know where the haystack is. Where is Sherlock Holmes when I need him?
“Will you fasten your seat belt, please?”
The C2OA was flying over dark forests, and a moment later, skimming over the runway etched by the landing light of the Zurich International Airport. The plane taxied to the east side of the airport and headed for the small General Aviation building, away from the main terminal. There were still puddles on the tarmac from the earlier rainstorms, but the night sky was clear.
“Crazy weather,” the pilot commented. “Sunny here Sunday, rainy all day today, and clearing tonight. You don’t need a watch here. What you really need is a barometer. Can I arrange a car for you, Commander?”
“No, thanks.” From this moment on, he was completely on his own. Robert waited until the plane taxied away, and then boarded a minibus to the airport hotel, where he collapsed into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Seven
Day Two
0800 Hours
The next morning Robert approached a clerk behind the Europcar desk.
“Guten Tag.”
It was a reminder that he was in the German-speaking part of Switzerland. “Guten Tag. Do you have a car available?”
“Yes, sir, we do. How long will you be needing it?”
Good question. An hour? A month? Maybe a year or two? “I’m not sure.”
“Do you plan to return the car to this airport?”
“Possibly.”
The clerk looked at him strangely. “Very well. Will you fill out these papers, please?”
Robert paid for the car with the special black credit card General Hilliard had given him. The clerk examined it, perplexed, then said, “Excuse me.” He disappeared into an office, and when he returned, Robert asked, “Any problem?”
“No, sir. None at all.”
The car was a gray Opel Omega. Robert got onto the airport highway and headed for downtown Zurich. He enjoyed Switzerland. It was one of the most beautiful countries in the world. Years earlier he had skied there. In more recent times, he had carried out assignments there, liaising with Espionage Abteilung, the Swiss intelligence agency. During World War II, the agency had been organized into three bureaus: D, P, and I, covering Germany, France, and Italy, respectively. Now its main purpose was related to detecting undercover espionage operations conducted within the various UN organizations in Geneva. Robert had friends in Espionage Abteilung, but he remembered General Hilliard’s words: “You’re not to get in touch with any of them.”
The drive into the city took twenty-five minutes. Robert reached the Dübendorf downtown exit ramp and headed for the Dolder Grand Hotel. It was exactly as he remembered it: an overgrown Swiss château with turrets, stately and imposing, surrounded by greenery and overlooking Lake Zurich. He parked the car and walked into the lobby. On the left was the reception desk.
“Guten Tag.”
“Guten Tag. Haben Sie ein Zimmer für eine Nacht?”
“Ja. Wie möchten Sie bezahlen?”
“Mit Kreditkarte.” The black and white credit card that General Hilliard had given him. Robert asked for a map of Switzerland and was escorted to a comfortable room in the new wing of the hotel. It had a small balcony that overlooked the lake. Robert stood there, breathing in the crisp, autumn air, thinking about the task that lay ahead of him.
He had nothing to go on. Not one damned thing. All the factors to the equation of his assignment were completely unknown. The name of the tour company. The number of passengers. Their names and whereabouts. “Are the witnesses all in Switzerland?” “That’s our problem. We have no idea where they are, or who they are.” And it wasn’t enough to find some of the witnesses. “You must find every one of them.” The only information he had was the place and date: Uetendorf, Sunday, October 14.