the doorway would have been easy to spot. But years of dirt and mildew, coupled with the gloom of the underground lair, had obscured its presence. Not only to Payne and Jones, but to Kaiser, too. On his first visit, it had taken him an hour to notice it.
Kaiser said, ‘I’m pretty sure this back room was a bomb shelter.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Payne asked.
‘Feel this sucker. It’s solid concrete. Doors like this are built for two reasons: safes and shelters. And since there isn’t a lock, I’m guessing it’s not a safe.’
Payne knocked on the door, impressed. ‘What’s back there?’
‘A tunnel, then a room.’
Payne glanced at the ladder to get his bearings. ‘Unless I’m mistaken, the tunnel goes underneath the rock face. That’s the best place to build a bunker. Use the mountain instead of concrete. Much cheaper that way.’
Kaiser leaned against the door, but it barely budged. ‘If you don’t mind, can you give me a hand? This thing weighs a ton.’
‘No problem. I like helping the elderly.’
Payne smiled and pushed the door with all his strength. Slowly but surely, it swung open from left to right until it crashed into the tunnel wall behind it. Made of concrete and painted the same colour as the first chamber, the arched corridor was nearly six feet wide and seven feet high, and it stretched twenty-two feet into the mountain. At the far end of the passageway, there was another thick door. In between, there was nothing but concrete and empty space.
No lights. No signs. No markings of any kind.
‘Thanks,’ Jones said as he slipped past Payne. ‘I knew we brought you for a reason.’
‘Please, after you,’ he mumbled sarcastically. ‘Really, I insist.’
Jones grinned in the dark as he took the lead. Guided by his flashlight, he studied the tunnel’s construction as he moved towards the back room. ‘Notice anything about the walls?’
‘Not really,’ Payne said. ‘Then again, you’re blocking my view.’
Jones answered his own query. ‘They’re spotless. No mildew or cracks of any kind. Whoever built this section did a much better job. Then again, that makes sense if the next room is a bomb shelter - although I’m beginning to have some doubts.’
‘Why’s that?’ Kaiser asked from the rear.
‘As far as I can tell, there’s no ventilation.’
Kaiser nodded. ‘Actually, you’re right. Not a single vent anywhere. I checked.’
Payne stopped and shone his flashlight at Kaiser. ‘No vents? There has to be vents. No vents mean no air. No air means no people. Why build a bunker that can’t hold people?’
Kaiser smiled cryptically. ‘You’re about to find out.’
9
Mitte District
Berlin, Germany
Hans Mueller grabbed the sharpest knife he could find and plunged it into the sausage. It hissed when its skin was pierced, grease oozing like lava onto the hot grill.
Watching closely, the man across the kitchen winced.
He knew this was a message, not a meal.
Born in India but a recent resident of Berlin, Asif Kapur had been invited to dinner through unconventional means. Two thugs had kicked in his front door and dragged him out of his shower. At first, he had screamed and tried to fight back, but a swift kick to his groin and several layers of duct tape round his hands and mouth had put an end to that. Dripping wet and completely naked, Kapur had been thrown into the trunk of a Mercedes and driven round the city for more than an hour. By the time they were done, he was shivering with fear.
That’s when he was delivered to the restaurant.
Recently purchased by Mueller as a way to launder money, the complex was still being renovated. Over the past few decades, the entire neighbourhood had received an extensive facelift. Formerly a part of East Berlin, the borough of Mitte had been surrounded by the Berlin Wall on three sides. Although there had been some crossing points between East and West Berlin during the Cold War - the most famous being Checkpoint Charlie - Mitte hadn’t been a popular tourist destination until the wall came tumbling down in 1989. Since then, the area had experienced a renaissance. Galleries had been built, cafes opened, derelict houses destroyed. After so many years of being an embarrassment, Mitte has re-established itself as the heart of Berlin.
And Mueller hoped to take advantage of the influx of visitors.
‘Tell me,’ he said without turning away from the grill, ‘do you know who I am?’
Kapur, still naked but no longer gagged, nodded in fear. ‘Yes, sir.’
Mueller stabbed another sausage with the tip of