The Lions Of Lucerne

“Maybe he wasn’t as affected as the other agents.”

“Or maybe that’s just what somebody wanted us to think.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It never sat well with me that the kidnappers would leave one of their own behind. I also never liked it that this guy was found holding a gun that directly tied him to where he was from. For such a carefully pla

“If the one body was left at the scene on purpose, what does that say?”

“It says that somebody really wanted us to believe that a Middle Eastern group was behind the kidnapping.”

“And what about the demands of the FRC?” said Claudia.

What about them? Scot thought. Today was Sunday, a week since the avalanche. He had been on the run since Wednesday. Just four days, but it felt like a lifetime. America might have already caved in by now, or a whole new set of demands could have been made. All he knew he got from looking at an occasional newspaper-the vice president was refusing to deal, and the president had not yet been returned.

“That’s a big question mark. Everything points away from a Mideastern organization, except the demands,” said Harvath.

“Maybe who committed the kidnapping and who paid for it are two separate groups.”

“That’s the direction I am taking, and it’s the only thing that could explain the Fatah’s involvement. So, if you find one of the groups, you should be able to find the other.”

“What else do we have?”

“Well, we have the two shooters in the Ice Palace speaking Serbian and my source’s confirmation of a Swiss assassination team working in Yugoslavia in recent years.”

“And they called themselves the Lions, right?”

“Yes. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Kind of, but it’s really just a feeling.”

“Coming to Switzerland was just a feeling for me, but with every gun that gets jabbed in my back or bullet that whizzes past my head, I’m learning to trust my feelings even more, so, please, share.”

“Well, when you first mentioned the Lions, it made me think of words like ‘proud’ and ‘arrogant.’ Those words remind me of Gerhard Miner-”

“The lunch you had with him.”

“Yes, which seems silly, but there was another picture that came to mind when you talked about the assassination team being Swiss and being named the Lions. There is a very famous monument in Lucerne of a dying lion. It was carved out of a rock ledge as a tribute to the men of the Swiss Guard who died defending King Louis and Marie Antoinette during the revolution.”

“You think there might be some sort of symbolic co

“Why not? Switzerland has always been proud of its neutrality, but also very proud of the ferocity and courage of its mercenaries. Ferocity and courageousness, just like a lion.”

“This monument is in Lucerne?”

“Yes.”

“And where does-”

“Miner live?”

“Yes.”

“He has an apartment in Bern, but his main home is in Lucerne.”

“The Lions of Lucerne. You might not have been reaching very far at all.”

63

The next morning, Scot used the color kit Claudia had bought with their groceries and dyed his hair once again. He wanted to return to his sandy brown, but he needed two applications to cover up the white blond and subsequently ended up with a much darker shade than he’d hoped for. At least it didn’t all fall out, which had been a definite possibility with all of the chemicals it had been subjected to in the last couple of days. With his hair short, yet conservatively colored, hopefully no one would bother to give him a second look.

After straightening up the house and boarding up the broken window as best they could, Scot and Claudia left to pursue the only other lead they had, a package mailed from a small village north of Lucerne called Hochdorf.

“Do you think he’ll tell us anything?” asked Scot.

“We won’t know until we try, will we?” Claudia responded.

“And you’re sure he’s somehow co

“Of course, I’m sure. When Miner had refused to meet and answer my questions, I began following him. That’s how I learned about the post office box in Interlaken. I also found he had one in Lucerne. After he and I had lunch, I thought there was little chance I would be able to get anything on him. He went on vacation, but I kept watching both of his post boxes hoping to get lucky. A few days ago, a package arrived for him in Lucerne.”

“Which of course you borrowed, steamed open, copied the contents of, and then replaced.”

“You’re very smart. Yes, I made copies of the contents. It held his passport, canceled train tickets, and credit card receipts. They showed that he had been in Greece, Italy, and France before returning home.”

“Was he out of the country during the time of President Rutledge’s kidnapping?”

“Yes, but according to the stamps in his passport, he was in Europe, not America.”

“Of course not. That would be too obvious. What’s the co

“I don’t know. I’m hoping he will tell us. Who else would send Miner a package from Hochdorf if not his cousin? My files show he’s the only relative Miner has there. It has to be the cousin. Miner wouldn’t go up to Hochdorf just to mail himself a package.”

“What if he left it there while visiting and the cousin just mailed it back to him?”

“And what were you saying about going with your gut? At this point, this is all we have to go on.”

An hour outside Lucerne, Claudia pulled into a rest area.

“I need to call the office and let them know I won’t be in.”

“Don’t forget to see if you can get someone to look a bit deeper into Miner’s file to see if there are any links between him and Yugoslavia.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Scot got out of the car and stretched his legs while Claudia went inside to use the phone.

At a pay phone by the washrooms, she inserted her telephone card and dialed her office.

“Christina, hello. It’s Claudia. I’m not going to be in today; I have some outside work to do. Do I have any messages, please?”

“Herr Schnell has been looking everywhere for you. Hold a moment. I will co

Schnell? What could he possibly want? she wondered.

Ten seconds later a gruff voice roughened from years of cigarette smoke was on the line. “Where are you?”

“Good morning, Herr Schnell,” Claudia politely replied.

“Don’t good morning me. Where are you?”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“Where were you on Saturday?”

“I was pursuing leads in my case.”

“Where was that?”

“The Jungfrau area.”

“And did you stay at your parents’ farm in Grindelwald?”

“Yes, but-”

He cut her off. “And where were you all day Sunday and Sunday evening until now?”

Claudia was getting very suspicious. He couldn’t possibly know already that she had been in his house. She wanted to explain things to him, but decided she wouldn’t give out any more information until she had some of her own. “I was with a friend.” Quickly, before Herr Schnell could fire off another question, she asked one of her own. “What is this all about?”

“What this is all about is that for the longest time I couldn’t understand why you were not making any progress on the weapons case.”

“It has been extremely difficult. There are not many leads.”

“I spoke with Aria

“About me?” Claudia had no idea where this was going.

“She says you volunteered for this case.”

“That is correct, but I don’t understand-”

“So, you don’t deny it?”

“No, of course not. Herr Schnell, I must respectfully insist that you get to the point.”

He did. They had a brief exchange of words, and when Schnell was finished speaking, all Claudia could do was set the phone down and walk back out to the car stu