Chapter 26 Thomas
Thomas
The meeting was set for a private dining room at the Hotel Baur au Lac.
It was the Baroness’s choice, a site on neutral ground, public enough to discourage violence yet private enough for serious conversation.
The general had agreed to the location, which meant either he trusted her or he was walking into a trap of his own.
At this point, I wasn’t sure which possibility worried me more.
We arrived separately.
Bisch drove the Baroness in a car borrowed from Dr. Müller’s neighbor. Will arrived on foot to coordinate with the CIA team. I’d spotted what I assumed were two of their people, a young man nursing a drink at the hotel bar and another reading a newspaper in the lobby.
Will had described the woman who led them. He’d also mentioned—with ears turning red—that she’d “practically molested” him as part of their cover. He never did get her name, which I found more amusing than frustrating, especially considering how artfully she’d used her tongue.
My job was to watch the exterior. The hotel had three exits, a main entrance, a service door, and a side passage that led to the lake. If anyone came in who shouldn’t or if anyone tried to leave in a hurry, I needed to know.
I found a bench across the street with a clear sightline to the main entrance and settled in to wait. The air was frigid, but thankfully, snow had yet to fall, though the clouds looked pregnant with expectation.
It was the kind of winter day that made Bern feel like a city holding its breath. Pedestrians hurried past with their collars turned up. They focused on getting wherever they were going. None looked like assassins.
But then, the good ones never did.
My shoulder ached, a low, persistent throb that the doctor’s painkillers couldn’t quite touch. I’d stopped taking the pills anyway. They dulled my reflexes, and I needed every edge I could get.
A black sedan with government plates pulled up to the hotel entrance. A tall, older man with silver hair exited the vehicle. He rose with the ramrod posture of a career military officer and moved with the careful precision of someone who had spent decades giving orders.
A heartbeat later, the general disappeared into the hotel.
I checked my watch. It was 15:00 exactly. The Baroness would be waiting in the private dining room with Will positioned somewhere with a sightline to the door.
Now it was just a matter of time.
The first hour passed without incident.
I watched the street, watched the hotel entrance, and watched every car or pedestrian that slowed as they passed by. Paranoia had become second nature now. It was a constant low hum of vigilance that I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to turn off.
At 15:47, the skin on the back of my neck prickled.
A car had stopped at the corner. It was a gray Opel with two men in the front seats. They weren’t getting out. They just sat there watching with the engine still running. I watched the driver as he spoke to his passenger, gesturing toward the hotel.
On instinct, my hand drifted toward the pistol under my coat.
I counted the seconds.
Thirty.
Forty-five.
A full minute, and they still hadn’t moved, hadn’t exited the vehicle, hadn’t opened the trunk to unload luggage a hotel guest would need.
It could be nothing, I told myself. Maybe it’s just a couple of men waiting for someone, arguing about directions or killing time.
But my gut said otherwise.
I stood, stretched my back to look casual and relaxed. I was nothing more than a man stretching his stiff muscles on a bitterly cold day. There was nothing to see here.
I walked to the lamppost across the street, leaned against it, and pulled out a cigarette I had no intention of smoking. My movement was deliberate and visible from the hotel’s windows. It was our prearranged signal that meant I’d spotted a potential threat. It screamed, Be alert and ready to move.
Will would see it. The CIA team would see it, too. They would all know what to do.
The gray Opel still didn’t move.
I finished my fake cigarette, ground it out, and returned to my bench, sitting at a different angle now to better view both the hotel entrance and the Opel.
Three more minutes passed.
Then the hotel’s service door opened, and I saw movement in the alley. One of the CIA men emerged, his hand inside his coat. Then the Baroness, moving carefully, her bandaged hands tucked against her chest. Another CIA man followed, his eyes cold and watchful.
Good. They’d seen my signal and were using the back way out.
A dark sedan with diplomatic plates pulled into the alley.
Behind the wheel was another member of the American team.
He looked young, early twenties, with bushy black hair poking out from beneath a driver’s cap that looked like it belonged in reels from the twenties.
With the car idling, the driver hopped out and held the door open while the Baroness slid inside.
One of the other CIA men joined her in the back seat.
The last man strode down the alley and onto the street as though he didn’t know the others and had no interest in whatever they were up to.
The sedan pulled away and headed east.
I waited.
The gray Opel started to move.
But instead of following the sedan, it turned in the opposite direction, heading west.
I let out a relieved sigh, but memorized the plate number just in case.
We met back at the farmhouse two hours later.
I drove back alone, well behind the car with the Baroness and her CIA protectors.
Still, my drive was circuitous with multiple route changes, as I watched the rearview mirror for tails, the usual precautions.
By the time I pulled into Dr. Müller’s drive, the sun was setting and my shoulder was screaming.
Will met me at the door.
“You saw them?” he asked.
I nodded. “Gray Opel, two men. They watched the hotel for at least fifteen minutes before you came out.” I followed him inside. “They didn’t pursue. When the Baroness’s car drove away, they turned west.”
“The CIA team spotted them, too. One of their people followed.”
“And?”
“They wound around town and ended up at a warehouse on the east side of the city in the industrial district. Our man couldn’t stick around because of heavy security guarding the place.” Will’s jaw tightened. “It could be one of the infrastructure targets.”
“Or could be nothing.”
“Maybe.” His tone said he didn’t believe that any more than I did.
The Baroness was standing at the stove, waiting for the kettle to whistle.
She looked exhausted, but there was something different in her gaze, something I hadn’t seen in a while, a confidence that looked a lot like hope.
Bisch sat in the living room with the two CIA men who’d escorted the Baroness.
“The general believes us,” she said before either of us could ask how the meeting went. “He has seen the documents and heard my testimony. He believes this is real.”
“Will he act?” I asked.
“He is already acting. He has contacts within the Federal Council, men he believes are compromised. By morning, they will know what we know. He cannot stop the Chamber Session—that would require a vote of the full Council—but he can ensure that when it is called, there will be voices ready to oppose it.”
“That’s something,” Will said.
“It is more than something, William.” The Baroness looked up from the kettle. “For the first time since this began, I believe we have a chance of saving my country.”
The gray Opel flashed in my mind, then the men who had been watching the hotel, who had known where to look when the meeting should’ve been hidden in plain sight.
“They knew about the meeting,” I said quietly. “The men in the Opel were waiting for you to come out. I think your escorts discouraged them from taking action.”
The Baroness nodded slowly. “Yes. I suspected as much.”
“How did they find out?” Will asked. “We were careful. The location was need-to-know.”
“Even retired, the general has staff. There are household servants, aids, and drivers.” She spread her ruined hands.
“It is easy to learn things if you know where to look and who to ask. They may not have known who the general was meeting until I stepped out of the hotel. That would also explain why they did not act. Still, we must assume they now know we are moving against them.”
“They’ll try to stop us,” Will said.
“Yes. They will.” She looked at Will, then turned and met my eyes. I saw the steel in them, battered but unbroken. “Which is why we must move faster than they expect. The night of the 14th, we cannot simply watch the infrastructure targets. We must be ready to act.”
“The CIA team—” Will started.
“We must coordinate quickly,” the Baroness said. “The woman who leads them, she is capable?”
“From what I saw, she is very good.” Will’s ears didn’t turn red this time, but he was careful to not look in my direction.
The kettle chirped.
As the Baroness lifted it off the stove and poured water into her cup, she said, “We cannot coordinate through dead drops and chance meetings, not anymore, not with three days left.”
“What are you saying?” Will asked, eyes wide. “That we bring them here?”
The Baroness looked at him steadily. “I understand the risks. But yes, that is what I am asking. We need to plan together, properly, or we will fail separately.”
“Their team leader—” Will hesitated. “She’s careful. She may not agree to expose their location.”
“Then convince her. Tell her what is at stake. You did not give her the details, no? Give them to her. Let her see the scope of what we face. Tell her that a Swiss intelligence officer with forty years of experience is asking for her help.” A ghost of a smile crossed the Baroness’s face.
“Tell her I will make coffee, and you will lend her your ear.”
Will’s eyes flew to mine, his cheeks even redder than when he’d exited the café after his initial meeting with the woman. I shrugged and failed to hide a smirk.
The Baroness wasn’t wrong. We’d been operating in fragments, passing information through intermediaries, and hoping the pieces would fit together when the moment came. That was a prayer more than a plan.
“I’ll make contact tonight,” Will said. “If they agree, I can bring them tomorrow morning.”
“Just send those two back with the request,” I said, nodding toward the living room. “There’s no need to use the dead drop. If she isn’t willing to come here without meeting first, she’ll leave a note. We can check the locker first thing in the morning.”
Will nodded slowly, though I could see his wheels turning. He didn’t like this at all.
“Good.” The Baroness sipped her tea and turned toward the hallway that led to the house’s bedrooms. “We will need every hour we can get.”
I found the two Americans in the living room. They were young and alert. They reminded me of Will and me as we entered Camp X years earlier. We barely understood what we’d signed up for back then, but God, we were excited to be part of it.
“Change of plans,” I said. “We need you to take a message back to your team leader.”
The blond glanced at the bushy-haired man. “What kind of message?”
“The Baroness wants to meet with your team here.” I kept my voice even, professional. “We need to coordinate properly. Dead drops and locker notes aren’t going to cut it anymore, not as we move into the active phase of this operation.”
“She’s not going to like that,” the blond said.
“Probably not, but you’ll all understand why it’s necessary when the Baroness fills you in.” I met his eyes. “Three days. That’s all we have. If we’re going to stop this thing, we need to be on the same page, looking at the same maps, making the same plans.”
The men exchanged another look. The blond shrugged.
“We’ll pass it along,” the bushy-haired man said finally. “Can’t promise anything.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
They left twenty minutes later, slipping out into the darkness the same way they’d come. I watched their taillights disappear down the road, then turned back to the house.
Will was waiting in the kitchen.
“We really need to get their names at some point. I’m pretty sure the ones I’ve made up for them would get me punched,” I said.
Will shook his head and chuckled. “Your nicknames are generally offensive, especially when you find men attractive.”
“Are you calling Olaf and Sven handsome?”
Will blinked. “Olaf and Sven? That’s terrible. They don’t even look Swedish.”
“It’s in your head now. You won’t be able to think of them as anything else.” I winked in the smart-assed way I knew got under Will’s skin. He just rolled his eyes and looked out the window, returning to his contemplation.
A moment later, he asked, “You think she’ll come?”
“I think she’s smart enough to know we’re right.” I lowered myself into a chair at the table, my shoulder protesting the movement. “And I don’t think she came all the way to Switzerland just to watch from the sidelines.”
“She still might want to meet first. Feel us out.”
“Then we check the locker in the morning and go from there.” I shrugged, immediately regretting the motion and pain speared through my shoulder. “Either way, we’ll know by tomorrow.”
Will turned back toward me, his arms crossing. “I don’t like exposing this location. If something goes wrong—”
“Then we’re burned. The Opel at the hotel proves they’re watching. Staying hidden isn’t working.” I met his eyes. “Sometimes we have to take a risk to get somewhere.”
He didn’t argue, though I saw caution warring with a dozen other thoughts in his eyes.
We sat there in silence as the night deepened around us. Outside, the wind whistled through trees, and a light snow began to fall.
Three days until the 14th.