“Did we make it?” Gunther asked.

Seth looked at his watch. “A second or two late,” he said, reaching for the handle. “Let’s see if it still works.”

He started to turn the handle when Zoe screamed.

“The door! Seth! The door’s closing!”

Seth whirled in place and saw the vault door slowly moving on its hinges.

“George!” Seth barked. “You and Zoe and the Father get out and hold on to the rope and see if you can slow it up. I’ll help Gunther.”

But before any of them could move, Gunther reached up and turned the handle of the safe. There was the hissing sound of springs uncoiling. Instants later, half a dozen harpoon-like arrows shafted through the wood paneling next to the safe and through the air. One impaled Gunther through his right breast and slammed him against the opposite wall The rest thudded harmlessly into the wall around him.

“Pfeil!” Gunther shouted. The word came back to Seth now with the fullest impact. They had found the arrows.

“Gunther!” Morgen started toward him. Seth grabbed Morgen and stopped him.

“Father, get outside,” Seth said as he watched the door continue to close. ‘Take him out of here,” he said to Stratton and Zoe. “I’ll help Gunther.” Seth physically turned Morgen around and shoved him toward the narrowing gap in the door. “Go on. All of you,” he barked. Stratton grabbed Morgen and headed for the door. Zoe stood her ground.

Seth turned and ran toward Gunther. He looked dazed, his mouth working now like a fish out of water. A large quantity of blood had gushed from his wound, staining the carpet under his feet. The end of the arrow protruded about four inches from the upper part of his chest, almost to his shoulder There was no froth from the wound, which meant the shaft had missed the lung. He might survive if they got him medical care soon.

Seth looked at him, glanced back at the door, which was half closed now, then back at Gunther. He reached out and grabbed the old Austrian by his shoulders.

“This is going to hurt like hell, Gunther.”

The old man looked at Seth through eyes hazed with pain and nodded.

Seth took a deep breath and pulled Gunther off the spear that had nailed him to the wall. Gunther shrieked horribly and then, amazingly, pushed Seth away, staggering toward the safe.

“Gunther, what…” Seth couldn’t believe the man was still standing.

“Back,” Gunther said, in a voice suddenly grown feeble. He backed against the wall and held there for a moment.

Seth cast an anxious glance at the closing door. When he looked back around Gunther had leaned into the safe and was struggling with its contents. He slid something heavy from the safe and turned.

Seth’s mouth dropped open. In his hands, Gunther held a box, a golden box encrusted with jewels that burned green and red and white and seemed to amplify the beam from Seth’s flashlight. Suddenly, a horrible remembered sound whispered again in the silence of the vault Seth felt his body tense as a second volley of spears, undoubtedly triggered by lifting the box off its pedestal in the safe, snaked through the darkness. One of the spears entered Gunther’s face just to one side of his nose. The impact lifted him from his feet and slammed him back against the wall. Two more spears slammed dull and wet through his midsection, but his open dead eyes didn’t flinch. The bejeweled gold box thudded to the floor, spilling its contents.