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“Anything interesting?” she asked.
Dietrich took the flashlight, reading the typescript, an odd expression on his face. “Isn’t that what you were telling me about? Unternehmen Werwolf . . .”
“Operation Werewolf,” Sam said. “The reason the Wolf Guard exists.”
“Maybe it tells something about the Romanov Ransom?” Dietrich said.
“A mystery that’ll have to wait,” Sam replied. “Let’s get back into that cockpit and finish bracing our tunnel.”
“What about the papers?” Dietrich asked.
“Give them to Remi. I promise she won’t start reading without us.”
“Me?” Remi said, looking far too innocent for her own good. When he and Dietrich finished bracing the tunnel and returned down to the hold a few minutes later, she aimed the flashlight on her pack, taking out the papers. “A little light reading to catch up on. Part of it at least.” She handed them to Dietrich, no doubt to help get his mind off their situation.
Sam waited while Dietrich read. “Any talk of the treasure?”
“Not by name.” Dietrich scanned the first page, then turned to the next. “This seems to be a synopsis of more detailed plans to sabotage the peace efforts. Bomb Russia and blame it on the Americans, bomb America and blame it on the Russians—apparently, they were waiting on the money to finance it. The goal was to start the war again . . .” He looked up at them. “If the treasure was on this plane, then I guess it’s a good thing it went down.”
“Except for Klaus,” Remi said.
He nodded, returning the papers to Remi, who read them herself, then returned them to her pack.
They spent the remainder of the night keeping warm, taking turns on checking the tunnel, telling stories about the various places they’d been. Dietrich had never traveled beyond South America and was fascinated by their adventures. “How is it you two met?” he asked.
“The Lighthouse Cafe,” Sam said. “A bar in Hermosa Beach, California.”
“In fact,” Remi added, “we were on our way there when we landed here. Sort of.”
“Listen.” Sam turned on the flashlight, aiming the beam at the cockpit. “I don’t hear any wind.”
“Not again,” Remi said, shivering. It seemed colder now than it had been the previous night.
Dietrich got up. “My turn. I’ll check.” He took his flashlight and climbed up the ladder. They heard him moving around up there. “It’s still open. But the wind has stopped.”
Sam joined him in the cockpit, looking through the tunnel. “He’s right,” he called down to Remi, who was holding on to the ladder behind him.
“When can we get out?” she asked.
He looked at his watch. “My guess is, they’ll be waiting for morning to start the search. We’ll call first thing.”
The three settled in for the night. The cold seemed even harsher. When morning came, Sam climbed up, disappointed to see that the snow had once again covered their tunnel. He grabbed the shovel and started clearing the entrance. This time, though, when he broke through, it was to a clear, sparkling sky.
“That’s a welcome sight!”
Once the three were free of the plane, snowshoes strapped on, they worked their way down the mountain far enough to get a clear signal on the satellite phone. Sam called Nando.
“Good news!” Nando said before Sam could get a word in edgewise. “Julio is already on his way. He’s insisting on piloting the search and rescue himself.”
“We’ll be at the rendezvous point. What about his brother?”
“Fine. Made it back, but wracked with guilt.”
“Tell him not to worry.”
“I will!” Nando said. “We’re celebrating tonight. Big dinner. And your friends said to tell you they’re waiting for you.”
“Who is?”
