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“Who are you going to believe?” Sam asked. “The one with the proof—me—or the one with the hidden agenda?”
Leopold gripped his handgun tighter. “What hidden agenda?”
“Wolf Guard? Fourth Reich?”
“Forget him,” Rolfe said, never taking his gaze off Sam. “What proof do you have that you even found it?”
“Remi,” Sam said. “Show them.”
As she started to reach for her pack, Rolfe lifted his gun, pointing it at her. She stopped. “Papers,” she said. “Tucked inside to keep them dry.”
“Slowly, Mrs. Fargo.”
Remi unzipped her pack, removing the papers they’d found on the plane, holding them out. “See for yourself.”
Rolfe took them from her, scanning the topmost page before handing them to Leopold, who quickly looked them over. “They look real. But how do we know they’re not forgeries?”
“Right,” Sam said. “Because onionskin paper and typewriters are so easy to find these days. We just whipped up these copies in the few minutes we had—in case you showed up.”
“Enough!” Leopold grabbed Remi by the arm, pulling her toward him. “Collateral. Until you show us where that treasure is.”
Before Sam could move, Rolfe stepped between them, leveling his gun on Sam. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Trust me, I won’t,” he said, his eyes on Remi. She tried to pull free, but Leopold held tight. “Hurt her, and I promise your death will be painful.”
Leopold’s pale eyes narrowed. “You think you’re going to kill me?”
“No doubt,” Sam said. “I just haven’t decided how. Yet.”
A loud hissing behind them startled Nando. The bubbling stew boiled over, brown liquid hitting the burner, steam and smoke rising up.
Rolfe turned toward it. Sam lunged, grabbing at Rolfe’s gun with one hand while slamming his other hand upward, cracking the man’s elbow. As Sam wrested the gun from Rolfe, Leopold swung Remi around, trying to reach for his holstered weapon. Remi rammed her shoulder into his side, then dropped down, giving Sam the clearance he needed.
Sam fired. Leopold staggered back, a look of disbelief on his face, as Remi pulled free. Sam fired again. As the Guardsman dropped to the ground, Rolfe lunged toward Sam. Nando grabbed the stewpot, then swung it. Rolfe screamed, stumbling back.
“Get the gun!” Sam said.
Remi dove for the weapon that fell from Leopold’s lifeless hand. She pointed it at Rolfe, who tried to rise to his knees, about to make a break for it, when Tatiana and Viktor appeared in the entrance. Tatiana shoved him down with her foot until he was facedown in the snow, screaming in pain. “Going somewhere?”
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Sorry we’re late,” Tatiana said once they had Rolfe cuffed. “Viktor and I had trouble locating your tent. We took out a couple of Leopold’s men down the hill. We figured he and Rolfe wouldn’t be too far. Unfortunately, they’d taken a completely different route.”
“We ran into a couple more at the helipad,” Sam said.
“Apologies,” Viktor said. “We must have missed those two.”
Tatiana glanced down at Rolfe, who was writhing in pain, a look of satisfaction on her face. “This is one time I’ll be happy to testify in court.”
—
ROLFE WAS turned over to the Argentine authorities after he had been taken to the hospital because of his broken arm and the burns on his face. Several days later, Tatiana was able to get an expert to verify and link the Operation Werewolf papers found on the airplane to Ludwig Strassmair. As a result, the Argentine government offered to assist the Russian government in the recovery of the downed Avro Lancastrian and whatever else might be found on it.
With a break in the weather, and after assessing the danger of any further avalanches, the teams flew out to start a full search of the plane and surrounding area. One group was assigned to forensics, to determine the cause of the Avro plane crash and to recover the victims. The other team, composed of local experts, accompanied by Tatiana, Viktor, the Fargos, Dietrich, and Nando, started the search for any historical evidence, beginning with the suitcase in which Remi had found the Operation Werewolf papers.
Once the remaining seats were removed, they were able to retrieve the suitcase, hoping to find further evidence of the plot to use the Romanov Ransom. “Remi, you found it,” Dietrich said. “You do the honors.”
Remi glanced at Sam, who nodded at her, and she picked up the suitcase, carrying it out into the light, placing it on a table. She lifted the lid, finding a brown folder containing a number of yellowed sheets of paper, which she handed to Dietrich. “More from Operation Werewolf, I’d say.”