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“Because if he wanted to kill us, he would have. Sit tight,” he told Remi and Sergei, putting the car in park. He got out, resting his hand on the butt of his Smith & Wesson. “Mr. Czarnecki? Sam Fargo . . .”
The man stared at him.
“Sergei,” Sam said. “Come on out, keep both your hands where he can see them.”
He heard Sergei’s door open behind him and, from the corner of his eye, saw the young man stepping out, holding both his hands high. “Now what?” Sergei asked.
“Tell him who we are.”
Sergei did. The man responded, and Sergei translated, saying, “He wants to know how you know who he is.”
“Tell him we were looking for Renard Kowalski. We found out—well, that his name came up as a friend of his.”
Sergei repeated the answer.
Gustaw gave them a thorough appraisal, not moving for several seconds. Finally, he leaned the rifle against the porch railing, told his dog to stay, then walked out to meet them. “My apologies for that greeting,” he said, his heavily accented English perfect. “I don’t tend to have a lot of friendly visitors.”
“Military?” Sam asked.
He nodded. “Wojska Specjalne.”
“Special Forces,” Sergei repeated.
Gustaw nodded, then gave a short whistle. The dog bounded down the steps, sitting at his side. Reaching down, he scratched the dog’s head. “What brings you up here?”
“A tunnel,” Sam said. “We heard you’re a local expert.”
“In other words, you’re looking for the Gold Train. I can tell you it’s supposed to be out on the sixty-fifth kilometer. I’m sure you can find someone to take you out there. Just not me.”
“We’re actually looking for information on Obermann Ludwig Strassmair.”
His brows went up a fraction. “What makes you believe this area has anything to do with him?”
“Someone from Kaliningrad had a map that showed a possible route he took after he fled Königsberg castle, trying to escape the Russian invasion. It led us here.”
“Sorry you came all this way. I only work alone.”
“We’re prepared to pay.”
“It’s not about the money.” He crossed his arms, his expression cold, hard. “It’s too dangerous. Leave.”
Sam realized that this was a man who’d made up his mind and wasn’t about to give in—not in the usual way. Taking a gamble, hoping the man might change his mind, he said, “Based on the number of people who’ve tried to kill us trying to get here, you’re probably right. But thanks for your time.”
And then he opened the car door as though he were about to leave.
32
Just when Sam thought his ploy to take off wasn’t going to work, Gustaw asked, “What happened? Who tried to kill you?”
Sam rested his elbow on the car door, then gave a quick version of the armed men and the break-in at their hotel. “I’m only assuming it’s related. We know very little about all this. Which is why we’re hoping you might be able to help.”
The man’s stance relaxed. “You were lucky. The Guard doesn’t usually leave witnesses alive.”
“The Guard?”
“Wolf Guard, is what we call them around here. Assuming that’s who came after you.”
The fact Gustaw mentioned this same group told Sam they were on the right track. “Any chance there’s a connection with Unternehmen Werwolf from World War Two?”