Page 112 of The Atlas Maneuver

“This is outrageous,” Townley yelled. “I am a Swiss citizen.”

“Then act like one,” Jeanne said, her voice rising. “You are operating an illegal vault, possibly harboring a massive amount of stolen war gold. Did we not learn our lesson about that a long time ago?”

Cassiopeia could see that Townley was unaffected by any appeal to nationalism. No surprise. This man, as Citrone had warned, was a loyal servant to the bank. She saw that when he delivered the message to her during the first visit. He took his job seriously. And obviously the bank thought him beyond reproach, empowering him with the management of the vault. Sure, he’d take Citrone’s money for the small stuff. But not for full-scale treason.

Did he know the secrets? No doubt.

But what exactly were they?

Koger stepped to the control panel and inserted the key into the lock, which clicked into place.

Cassiopeia came over. “Let’s leave it alone. We have no idea what that is and we’re not going to be told if it’s good or bad.”

Koger nodded and withdrew the key without turning it.

But she wondered. Why had Townley kept it around his neck? Hidden. Only available to him. Koger had already told her that the Swiss were merciless on banking violations by foreign entities. The days of the country being a financial free-for-all, open for anything and everything, were over. The nation had taken a huge PR hit with how it handled stolen Holocaust wealth, learning the hard way that arrogance and stonewalling were no longer options.

“Herr Townley,” Jeanne said, “the legend of a huge cache of World War II gold has long existed within Swiss banking. Now so much time has passed that few still believe it was real. But here we are and, lo and behold, it is real. And the Central Intelligence Agency being involved? Perhaps even the originator of it all? Between seventy and eighty-five million people died during World War II. Three percent of the world’s population. The gold that may be below us was pillaged from its rightful owners through blood and death, then held by America for who-knows-what.”

“Good luck with your search,” Townley said, defiant.

Cassiopeia stared at Koger, who seemed as puzzled as she was on what to do next.

“Get him out of here,” Jeanne ordered, and the soldiers removed Townley from the room. She then dismissed the other uniforms, leaving the four of them alone.

Koger faced Citrone. “Okay, pal. What now?”

“That gold is here. I came to that conclusion a long time ago. There was no practical way to move that much bullion away.”

“I went to the lower floor,” Cassiopeia said. “There was nothing below the wine vaults.”

“So that means,” Citrone said, “it has to be on the wine vault level, as is the empty vault you opened.”

Koger seemed irritated. “Quit telling us the obvious. We need information.”

“Lucky for us,” Jeanne said. “I may have just that.”

CHAPTER 63

COTTON FOLLOWEDAIKO AS THEY HUSTLED THROUGH THE STREETS OFMarrakesh. She’d stopped and sought directions from a vendor, who even drew them a rough map. They knew precious little other than that the CIA was here, working Neverlight, cleaning up every last loose end. He was still greatly concerned that the woman spotted with Suzy, who deplaned and accompanied her south in a car, was, according to Aiko, a high-end, for-hire assassin whom the bank had obviously employed.

This situation was escalating.

Fast.

They kept following the narrow ocher-dusted lanes, finding an area of town where grease-streaked men in cubbyhole shops worked on motorbikes. Other businesses were closed for the day. A tailor shop. Laundry. Grocery. Aiko kept going past the closed doors and boarded windows, turning two more corners, until finally stopping.

“This it?” he asked.

She nodded. “If the map is to be believed.”

They stood before another shop with dusky ivory walls, this one with a single wooden door for entry and no streetside windows. The route ahead led to another corner, which hooked left. Nobody was around. He tested the knob. Locked. He pounded on the wood.

No reply.

He tried again.

“Seems nobody’s home,” he said.

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