and suddenly people are trying to kill him. Next thing you know, Interpol is involved and they decide they want him alive. Then the mini shows up in this guy’s basement? From everything Timmy has told us about it, it’s critical to what is going on with the pyramids up above. This Brun character is probably examining it as we speak. As important as it is, why on earth would he let us borrow it just so we can try to restore Jake’s memory?”
“Well, they might,” Marshall had said.
“Yeah, but they might not,” Tony had said. “We can’t take that chance. We know how important Jake’s memory is to what’s going on up there.” He had pointed to the stars. “But nobody else does. Nope. Lacey’s right. We’ve gotta go get it. No matter what. And a quick smash-and-grab is the surest way. They’d never expect it.”
The castle loomed dark on the ridge. Lacey glanced at the second display on Timmy’s console. A 3-D digitized image of the ancient structure rotated on the screen. A blinking light on one of the lower levels identified the location of the mini.
She blew out a breath.
It was a crazy plan.
Chapter 20
Swiss Alps
T HE F IAT SLOWED as Jake made the final hairpin turn on the private road. There was no guardrail. The drop-off was sheer. Woodsmoke hung over a village 1,500 meters below. Snow blanketed the surrounding peaks.
The château was impressive. It was a five-story, thirty-five-thousand-square-foot medieval castle, complete with deep-set lancet windows, crenellated ramparts, and twin keeps that framed the arched entrance to an expansive courtyard. Two sides of the curtain wall rose flush with the promontory cliffs that supported it. A fistful of antennae sprouted from one of the pinnacles.
Jake pulled to a stop at the gate. He and Lacey were bundled head to toe. Icy condensation coated the sedan’s windows. Lacey shivered. It wasn’t an act. A wall camera swiveled on its mount, and Jake rolled down the window and waved with his hand. “
Buon giorno.
Ciao!” he said. His breath fogged around the words. The internal camera lens rotated, and he imagined his image being zoomed on a monitor.
A stiff voice replied from an inset speaker. “
Guten tag.
”
“
Mi scusi. Parli italiano?
” Jake asked.
“
Sì.
”
“Thank God!” Jake said in Italian. “The car heater is broken. W-we need help.”
There was only a slight hesitation. “Of course. Come. Come!” The voice sounded genuinely concerned. The gate swung open and Jake drove through.
The cobbled courtyard was half the size of a soccer field. The surrounding curtain wall supported a covered parapet walk. Snow banked on its pitched roof. There was a six-passenger helicopter in the center of the bailey. Two sedans and four SUVs were parked in front of a five-door garage that had likely been barracks hundreds of years ago. The towering residence commanded the far end of the courtyard. Jake stopped the car at the front staircase. A stout main entry door swung open, and two men rushed out. The taller man wore pleated slacks and a thick sweater that failed to conceal his athletic build. His face was all planes and angles, with blue eyes and a blond flattop. He seemed to take in the scene much like a tank commander would a battle zone. But it was the shorter man who captured Jake’s attention. He wore a velour housecoat and wool scarf over corduroy slacks. His thick mane of silver hair was swept back over a broad forehead. His face was filled with concern. He rushed to open Lacey’s door.
It was stuck.
Nice touch, Jake thought. It had been Tony’s idea to drip water in the latch. It had since frozen solid.
The taller man moved in. “Allow me,
Mein Herr
,” he said. Thick fingers gripped the handle. A sharp tug, a crunch of ice, and the door swung open.
“Thank you s-s-sooo much,” Lacey said, taking the shorter man’s proffered hand. He escorted her up the steps.
Jake shouldered open his own door and followed them inside.
“Well, they might,” Marshall had said.
“Yeah, but they might not,” Tony had said. “We can’t take that chance. We know how important Jake’s memory is to what’s going on up there.” He had pointed to the stars. “But nobody else does. Nope. Lacey’s right. We’ve gotta go get it. No matter what. And a quick smash-and-grab is the surest way. They’d never expect it.”
The castle loomed dark on the ridge. Lacey glanced at the second display on Timmy’s console. A 3-D digitized image of the ancient structure rotated on the screen. A blinking light on one of the lower levels identified the location of the mini.
She blew out a breath.
It was a crazy plan.
Chapter 20
Swiss Alps
T HE F IAT SLOWED as Jake made the final hairpin turn on the private road. There was no guardrail. The drop-off was sheer. Woodsmoke hung over a village 1,500 meters below. Snow blanketed the surrounding peaks.
The château was impressive. It was a five-story, thirty-five-thousand-square-foot medieval castle, complete with deep-set lancet windows, crenellated ramparts, and twin keeps that framed the arched entrance to an expansive courtyard. Two sides of the curtain wall rose flush with the promontory cliffs that supported it. A fistful of antennae sprouted from one of the pinnacles.
Jake pulled to a stop at the gate. He and Lacey were bundled head to toe. Icy condensation coated the sedan’s windows. Lacey shivered. It wasn’t an act. A wall camera swiveled on its mount, and Jake rolled down the window and waved with his hand. “
Buon giorno.
Ciao!” he said. His breath fogged around the words. The internal camera lens rotated, and he imagined his image being zoomed on a monitor.
A stiff voice replied from an inset speaker. “
Guten tag.
”
“
Mi scusi. Parli italiano?
” Jake asked.
“
Sì.
”
“Thank God!” Jake said in Italian. “The car heater is broken. W-we need help.”
There was only a slight hesitation. “Of course. Come. Come!” The voice sounded genuinely concerned. The gate swung open and Jake drove through.
The cobbled courtyard was half the size of a soccer field. The surrounding curtain wall supported a covered parapet walk. Snow banked on its pitched roof. There was a six-passenger helicopter in the center of the bailey. Two sedans and four SUVs were parked in front of a five-door garage that had likely been barracks hundreds of years ago. The towering residence commanded the far end of the courtyard. Jake stopped the car at the front staircase. A stout main entry door swung open, and two men rushed out. The taller man wore pleated slacks and a thick sweater that failed to conceal his athletic build. His face was all planes and angles, with blue eyes and a blond flattop. He seemed to take in the scene much like a tank commander would a battle zone. But it was the shorter man who captured Jake’s attention. He wore a velour housecoat and wool scarf over corduroy slacks. His thick mane of silver hair was swept back over a broad forehead. His face was filled with concern. He rushed to open Lacey’s door.
It was stuck.
Nice touch, Jake thought. It had been Tony’s idea to drip water in the latch. It had since frozen solid.
The taller man moved in. “Allow me,
Mein Herr
,” he said. Thick fingers gripped the handle. A sharp tug, a crunch of ice, and the door swung open.
“Thank you s-s-sooo much,” Lacey said, taking the shorter man’s proffered hand. He escorted her up the steps.
Jake shouldered open his own door and followed them inside.
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