The Romanov Ransom (Fargo Adventures 9)

“Higher!”

The hat went up.

Twin mu

zzle blasts flashed again and again as the gunmen peppered the stone walls. Sam fired twice. One of the men cried out, his rifle flying from his hands as he fell back. Remi hit the second man, vines rustling as he fell into the branches.

“Nando, move the hat again. See if we get a response.”

The hat danced in the window. When nothing happened, Sam made his way inside the structure, climbing up the wall where Remi had been earlier, looking out over the jungle and trail.

“Sam?” Remi asked.

“Counting bodies . . . So far, three . . .”

“Don’t forget the one who died on the trip wire.”

“That makes four.” He spotted the fifth body where he and Remi had shot the last two, near the trail. “Number six is missing,” he said, spying a blood trail leading away from them.

“Do we go after him?”

“It will take him at least twenty-four hours before he can return with help. I say we put some distance between him and us. The farther away we are from here, the better.”

73

Rolfe, still jet-lagged, poured the last bit of coffee from the carafe into his mug before returning his attention to the map that Leopold was looking over. They were holed up in a suite of a downtown Buenos Aires hotel, the remnants of their room service breakfast on the cart waiting to be picked up. “And why is it we think they’d be contacting this Dietrich person?”

“He’s the last-known relative of Ludwig Strassmair.”

“All well and good,” Rolfe said, “but my understanding was that Strassmair, being a Nazi, was estranged from his sister’s family. Why on earth would he have entrusted the treasure to one of them?”

“He wouldn’t have. But the possibility exists that he contacted his sister’s family when he arrived. They might know something about his last days in Buenos Aires.”

“You’re assuming they even spoke.”

“Hoping. Something we won’t know unless we find Dietrich.”

“And what are the odds of that?” Rolfe asked, examining the area Leopold had circled. “Even with the number of Guardsmen you say are here, that’s a lot of land to cover.”

“Except a lot of that land is controlled by the Guard. Advantage, ours.”

“Controlled, how?”

“They run arms and drugs for support. Trust me when I tell you no one is moving across that land without them knowing about it.”

“You’re sure?”

Leopold looked up at him. “I have no reason to question their authority and competence. Their training is my training.”

“Then how is it that Dietrich managed to stay off their radar?”

“I said they controlled the land down here,” he said, tapping the map. “Dietrich is reported to be living and working outside their control. At the moment, anyone looking for him will be heading through Guard territory.”

“And the man they picked up last night? Have they determined whether or not he’s searching for Dietrich?”

“No,” Leopold said, when his cell phone lit up from an incoming call. “They were under orders to wait until we arrived at their compound. The less people who know about our true purpose here, the better.”

“At last, we agree on something,” Rolfe said as Leopold picked up his phone from the table.