“I’m told you speak German, Jonas, so listen carefully. I want you to give me your gun. Slowly, Jonas. Otherwise, I might be tempted to shoot you several times.”

Brunner reached into his jacket, removed his weapon and handed it to the Israeli butt first.

“Give me your phone.”

Brunner complied.

“Do you have a radio?”

“No.”

“A beacon?”

Brunner shook his head.

“Too bad. You might need one later. Now get behind the wheel.”

Brunner did as he was told and started the engine. The Israeli sat behind him, gun to the back of Brunner’s head.

“How far are we going, Jonas?”

“Not far.”

“No more stops?”

“No.”

Brunner slipped the Mercedes into gear and continued up the slope of the mountain.

“Congratulations, Jonas. You just provided me with a weapon and turned yourself into a hostage. All in all, very well played.”

“Are my men alive?”

“Two of them are. I’m not so sure about the third.”

“I’d like to call for a doctor.”

“Just drive, Jonas.”

CHAPTER 74

74

CANTON BERN, SWITZERLAND

They climbed another thousand feet into the mountains and stopped at the edge of a sunlit ledge of glistening snow and ice high above the valley floor. In the center of the glade was an AW139 helicopter, engines silent, rotors still. Martin Landesmann waited near the tail, eyes concealed by wraparound sunglasses, his expression that of a man who had dropped by on his way to somewhere else. Ulrich Müller hovered anxiously next to him. Gabriel glanced at Jonas Brunner’s eyes in the rearview mirror and told him to shut off the engine. Brunner did as he was told.

“Give me the key.”

Brunner removed it and handed it to Gabriel.

“Put both hands on the wheel, Jonas. And don’t move.”

Gabriel climbed out and tapped on Brunner’s window with the barrel of the gun. Brunner emerged, hands in the air.

“Now we walk, Jonas, nice and slow. Don’t do anything to make Martin nervous.”

“He prefers to be called Mr. Landesmann.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” Gabriel jabbed Brunner in the kidney with the barrel of the gun. “Move.”

Brunner advanced slowly toward the helicopter, Gabriel two paces behind, the gun at his side. Ulrich Müller managed to maintain a placid expression, but Martin was clearly displeased by the ignominious arrival of his personal security chief. At Gabriel’s command, Brunner stopped ten yards short of his masters. Gabriel raised the gun and pointed it at Müller.

“Are you armed?” Gabriel asked in German.

“No.”

“Open your overcoat.”

Müller unbuttoned his coat, then opened the sides simultaneously.

“Now the suit jacket,” said Gabriel.

Müller did the same thing. No gun. Gabriel glanced at the pilot.

“What about him?”

“This isn’t Israel,” Müller said. “This is Switzerland. Helicopter pilots aren’t armed.”

“What a relief.” Gabriel looked at Martin Landesmann. “And you, Martin? Do you have a gun?”