“Like I said, information. I thought all of the shooters yesterday were working together until I heard the American voices and realized that there were probably two groups. The first, with the woman, must have been gunning for me because of the note I sent to the post office box in Interlaken, and the second was the hit team from D.C., who somehow managed to pick up my trail.”
“Okay, two separate groups, then. But why?”
“I have an idea who is behind the American team, but not the team from the Ice Palace at the Jungfraujoch. That team spoke German-”
“You said that. You also said it didn’t sound like German German, right?”
“It sounded like Swiss German, but it was only a couple of words. That’s pretty hard to nail an accent with.”
“Let’s assume for a moment that you’re correct on the accent. You said they also spoke Serbian?”
“Yes. That I am certain of.”
Herman leaned backward in his chair. He appeared to be staring at the ceiling, studying the wine-colored tiles that ran between the old wooden beams. Harvath knew he was thinking, turning something over in his mind.
“You are absolutely certain that your FBI and the rest of the U.S. government is wrong about Fatah?”
“I don’t know. I do know there is no way the Fatah, if they are even involved, could have pulled off something like this on their own. We can be sure they had inside help from people within my government.”
“And you’re positive you are on the correct path?”
“Positive? I don’t think anyone can be positive on something like this. All I know is that somebody else thinks I’m on the right path.”
“What do you mean, ‘somebody else thinks’?”
“I think the attempts on my life, two of them just yesterday in Switzerland, make for a pretty strong case that I’m on to something.”
“I agree. I also agree that this entire situation does not seem to fit the Fatah. Someone is using them as some sort of smoke screen.”
“So, if we’re on the same page, who do you think would be capable of an attack like this and kidnapping the president?”
“You’re right that it would have been undertaken by a group with exceptional mountaineering and military skills. They could have come from Germany or, like you said, France, Italy, Austria, or…”
“Or?”
“You are sure that what you heard in the Ice Palace was two men, the same who had been shooting at you, speaking Serbian?”
“It’s one of the few things in this whole mess that I am totally positive about.”
“Then that narrows the field considerably.”
59
“What the hell happened?” yelled Senator Snyder into the scramble phone in his study as Senator Rolander looked on.
“We acquired the target, but there was another interested party already present,” replied the hired killer.
“Another interested party? Who were they?”
“We have no idea. They made their move before we had a chance, so we hung back.”
“What happened?” asked Rolander.
Snyder cupped the mouthpiece and addressed Rolander. “The girl led the team right to him, but someone else made a move before they had a chance to take him out.”
“Shit. Then they know about him.”
“They must know something,” said Snyder as he turned his attention back to the phone. “What happened then?”
“The target evaded the shooters, and we followed him. When we tried to close out the contract, he managed to get away.”
“He got away? Maybe I haven’t been clear. You and your associates are not being paid for him to get away. You are being paid to take him out! I can’t believe this. That’s the third time. Harvath must be eliminated.”
“He will be.”
“Do you have any idea where he is now?”
“No, but we’re working on it.”
“What about the girl?”
“She disappeared. We had to stick with our target. She shouldn’t be too hard to find, though.”
“She’d better not be. And I’d better not hear about any more failed attempts. You get that slippery son of a bitch and you take him out once and for all. Do you understand me?”
The killer didn’t have a chance to respond. Snyder had already slammed down the phone.
60
They rode in silence toward the Munich airport as the long mono-wiper of Herman’s Mercedes beat a steady rhythm against the windshield and the steadily falling snow. Scot was processing the information Herman had spent the last hour sharing with him.
When NATO forces had been brought in to keep the peace in Kosovo, it had been divided into several sectors-French, German, Italian, and so forth. Despite the presence of NATO, emotions and tempers on both sides still raged very hot. Serbians had hit lists of Albanians they wanted dead and vice-versa. Much of this involved the ordinary citizenry, but there were also very high ranking military, political, and business people who had extremely nasty bones to pick with their enemies, but who were being watched so closely that they didn’t dare act.
Realizing there was a need for their services, a band of highly trained killers put themselves on the market in Yugoslavia. Nothing was beneath them. They had no problem killing, raping, torturing, or maiming men, women, or children…anyone was fair game as long as the price was right. What’s more, they specialized in assignments that were considered impossible. There was no security system they could not breach. No hiding place that couldn’t be uncovered. Once they had your scent, it was said, it was time to make your peace with God.
“You’re sure the killers were Swiss?” said Harvath, breaking their silence. “And the NATO soldiers acted as go-betweens?”
“That’s what my contact told me. Remember that much like Berlin after World War Two, Kosovo was divided into sectors controlled by troops from specific countries. As Swiss, the assassins were fluent in French, German, Italian, and English. They only interacted with the people right below the top of the different military commands. The ‘seconds.’ These soldiers were hungry for profit, and the killers took very good care of them. If there was an Albanian, a Serb…anyone in their sector that needed a job done, these soldiers arranged it.”
Scot had seen it before, and it made him sick. “Those soldiers were there to keep the peace, not to facilitate murders for hire.”
“What are you Americans so fond of saying, ‘War is hell’? Most of the NATO soldiers were risking their lives daily in a country that they hadn’t even heard of or thought about since geography class in primary school. Lots of people were getting rich. Why not them? And if a couple of bad guys want to rub each other out, who cares?”
“I understand the mentality, Herman; I just never agreed with it.”
“No, but that’s not what we’re talking about.”
“You’re right. I’m getting away from the point. So, we know that the hired killers were a group of Swiss. Do we know where they were from in Switzerland? Were they military? Police of some sort?”
Herman pulled at his large nose. “My contact stated that no one seemed to know where in Switzerland these men were from or what they looked like. No one knew what their background was, only that they were extremely qualified.”
“How were they contacted when a hit was to be ordered?”
“Through a series of dead drops.”
“What else did your contact tell you?”
“Apparently, the killers were known as the Lions.”
“The Lions? Why Lions?”
“I thought maybe the NATO soldiers gave the name to them to put more of a ‘face’ on the people they were dealing with, but my contact made it very clear that it was how the killers identified themselves. Just a whisper of the word was enough to send people into hiding.”
“Can you get any more information about them for me?”
“I don’t think so. The Lions supposedly stopped operating in Yugoslavia and could be dead for all we know.”