The Bleiberg Project (Consortium Thriller) by David Khara

nonnegotiable.”
    Hess was about to intervene but remained silent. Hitler rubbed his chin and stared at the floor. “I’ll think about it. What else?”
    “You will institute scientific research programs in the military, industrial and, very importantly, medical fields. You will fund these programs with our support in both raw materials and hard cash. In return, we will be informed of every plan, formula and invention. We won’t compromise on that either.”
    “On this point, our intentions converge. However, I fail to grasp the connection between your offer and your interest in the Germanic race.”
    “Our organization pursues the same objective as you, Herr Hitler.”
    “A new Germany?”
    “No, Herr Hitler. A new world.”

CHAPTER 16
    Zurich, 8 a.m.
    T he arrival at Zurich was torture. After fighting the urge to beat the crap out of his idiot neighbor throughout the flight—and the brat’s incredibly lax mother at the same time—Eytan had to let everybody get off the plane before him to avoid being spotted by Jeremy Corbin. His nerves were frazzled, his knees had seized up, and he was ten minutes behind the stock trader. To add to his frustration, he had left all his weapons in NYC and wouldn’t be resupplied until he arrived at the hotel his people had booked for him.
    Fortunately, his surveillance job was facilitated considerably by the sheer predictability of an American agent. The young woman accompanying Jeremy would follow her CIA training to the letter. As a result, she would refuse to take a cab, renting a vehicle and driving it herself. That way, if they were followed, she would be in control of the situation. And she could carry weapons in the trunk. All Eytan had to do was head for the car-rental counter. A sardonic smile on his face, his habitual military bag over his shoulder, Eytan walked through the airport, wondering why he was whistling “The Colonel Bogey March.” As he approached the car-rental counters, he slowed and slipped behind a pillar. The international terminal would soon be swamped with passengers, but for now only a few shambling groups were visible, making his surveillance task all the easier.
    The two blonds were filling in forms at the desk. Hanging around to watch was pointless. Eytan left the building. The air was warm. The temperature would reach the seventies in the afternoon. Summer wasn’t Eytan’s favorite season. His massive build was better suited to cooler climates. He climbed into a cab, quickly explained, in perfect German, that his wife would soon appear with her handsome lover and handed the cabbie a bundle of euros. The driver’s sympathetic look received a blank response.
    While keeping an eye on the parking garage exit, Eytan considered the possibilities. The Swiss were known for their watches, cheese and, above all, their banks. Could Jeremy and his chaperone be here to recover the documents the Metsada had been chasing after for weeks?
    A gray Lexus coupe stopped at the parking garage barrier. The tinted windows made identifying the occupants impossible. Eytan hesitated. He needed to be absolutely certain. The passenger window was lowered. A barely smoked cigarette flew out and bounced on the asphalt. The window closed immediately but not before Eytan had glimpsed Jeremy’s hair. The Israeli agent relaxed, tapped the cabbie on the shoulder, and off they went.
    “Yada, yada yada,” grumbled Jeremy.
    “You’re not just a pig, you’re a puerile one.” Jackie’s tone was serious. This time, she wasn’t playing mind games.
    “Look who’s talking. After half a day on a plane, I think I’m allowed to enjoy a smoke. Jesus wept!”
    “You can wait till we arrive. All I can say is, the car’s no-smoking. End of story.” With a resigned sigh and a final drag, Jeremy lowered the window and flicked the cigarette away. “Now what?”
    “We swing by the hotel, pick up the gear left by…No, that’s none of your business. Caffeine refill and a visit to