White Death: An Alex Hawke Novella by Ted Bell Read Free Book Online

future.”
    “Russians?” Hawke asked. “I don’t see it. Putin isn’t that crazy.”
    “Hmm,” Blinky said. “Let’s talk about that tonight over dinner at Der Kronenhalle as well, shall we? The Russians may be involved in this financial chicanery. But military issues? That’s an entirely different matter.”
    “Let’s go up!” von Stuka said.
    “B ear with me,” Baron von Stuka said, clearly grateful for the cozy warmth inside his command trailer. Hawke, Congreve, and Herr Schultz, plus a pair of uniformed military observers with powerful binoculars, were all seated in a row of chairs facing a very large window. They were watching the ballet of battle as it played out high up on the mountainside. Hawke was watching the live-fire exercise up above with laserlike focus. Even Ambrose was beginning to appreciate the gift of knowledge that Wolfie was giving them.
    He had been explaining the nuances and intricacies of high-mountain warfare while the four of them had been sipping hot cocoa and eating pastries from Sprüngli, the most famous cafe in Zurich. It was, Congreve mused, a lovely way to spend a morning.
    Von Stuka stood up to stretch his back and said, “Those huge boulders we’ve arranged over there, as you correctly assumed, Alex, represent enemy helicopters that have just landed. Remember that for seven hundred years, Swiss soldiers have been the masters of these mountain passes.”
    “Sorry, did you say you arranged those boulders?”
    “Sure. Indistinguishable from real granite, but they weigh only a tenth of the real thing. Brilliant invention created by scientists at the Ministry of Defense. Made of some synthetic rock called Granite 2. Comes in handy in a lot of situations. Good for camouflaging things up in the mountains, for example.”
    “Extraordinary,” Ambrose said.
    “Hmm, yes. Ours was a land where the invaders were at a supreme disadvantage. We knew the mountain terrain down to the square inch, every rock and stream. They hadn’t a clue. Centuries ago, we could even win battles with falling rocks. Roll them down the mountain and crush the invaders far below. And then helicopters were invented.”
    “Changed everything, one would assume,” Ambrose said, polishing off a lemon tart.
    “Yes. The modern Swiss Army has the ‘flying horses,’ as we call them, to contend with. We have substituted surface-to-air missiles for loose rocks. Should a swarm of enemy choppers come sweeping through that pass some day, we will be ready and—”
    At that moment there came a deafening roar, one that echoed down the towering canyons of stone. Not an avalanche, the noise was loud to the point of pain. The enemy communication outpost had just been obliterated in an epic explosion. Giant chunks of granite had been thrown upward, and they now came tumbling down from the sky. As Alex and his friends watched, the Tenth Mountain Division climbed even higher toward their next objective, ducking and dodging the falling chunks of granite.
    Shots rang out then, echoing down the canyons of stone.

 
    C HAPTER E LEVEN
    I t was snowing heavily that evening. Outside the hotel, nearly invisible, snow-laden trolleys trundled along on the wide Bahnhoffstrasse, pausing periodically to collect huddled white clumps of passengers waiting patiently at the stations. The view from the windows of Hawke’s suite gave onto the city. The spires and many bridges over the river made the scene a wonder for him.
    He took the elevator down and met Congreve in the lobby of their hotel. It was one of the oldest establishments in Zurich, built amid gardens at the edge of the lake, and quite the nicest hotel in town. Blinky had made a reservation for four at a restaurant called Der Kronenhalle.
    Hawke looked at his watch, saw that it wasn’t yet six o’clock, and suggested they have a quick drink in the cozy hotel bar before adjourning to the restaurant.
    “Quite an exciting and informative day,” Alex said after they’d