Weiss’s surprise was genuine now. ‘Who are you? What is it you want with me?’
‘Just to talk. We have a little proposition to put to you. One that I think you will find extremely fascinating, my dear Doctor.’
The German’s sharply honed survival instinct cut in automatically, despite Leveski’s disarming manner.
‘Doctor? Why do you call me doctor? I was a simple watchmaker in Switzerland until my retirement.’
The cold smile dropped from Leveski’s face. ‘Please do me the courtesy of crediting me with intelligence, Doctor. I have not come all this way to be insulted. You are Dr Franz Steiner. You were in charge of the medical research facility at Auschwitz from 1941 to 1945. Your highly specialized work concerned the grafting and transplantation of amputated limbs in human subjects. You were several years ahead of your time in recognizing the problems of spontaneous rejection – a problem which, I might add, has since been much more widely studied.’
Something told Steiner that, armed or not, Leveski was not a man to antagonize. His bluff had been called, yet no threats had been offered – only a tantalizing reference to his work. Steiner found himself increasingly fascinated.
‘You have overcome the rejection problem? Isolated the antibodies which cause it?’
Leveski shook his head. ‘Not yet, Doctor. But we will – or rather, you will. With our help, of course.’
Steiner suddenly realized that his first question remained unanswered. He repeated it. ‘Who are you? What do you want with me?’
Leveski dipped his hand carefully into the inside pocket of his jacket and drew out his identity card, which he flashed under Steiner’s nose. ‘My name is Tovan Leveski. My companion is Viktor Yaleta. As you see, we are both official representatives of the government of the USSR.’
Leveski saw the look of uncertainty which flickered across the German’s ice-blue eyes. ‘You are surprised, Doctor. You should not be. The fact that we may have been enemies in the past has no relevance to our business here today. It is something which transcends accidents of birth, mere geographical boundaries. We are talking about science, Doctor – pure science. Medical reasearch – the very future of the human race. Does that not interest you?’
Steiner shrugged off the pointless question. ‘Of course. Who could fail to be interested?’
Leveski nodded towards the hatch which led down to the boat’s cabin. ‘Then perhaps we can discuss this in greater comfort?’
Nodding thoughtfully, Steiner turned, leading the two Russians to the short companionway.
‘So, how did you find me?’ Steiner asked, more relaxed now that the danger seemed to have passed, and mellowed by a large glass of local brandy.
Leveski smiled. ‘Find you, Doctor?’ He inclined one shaggy eyebrow. ‘We never lost you. We have known your exact whereabouts since 1946. We simply had no use for your particular talents until now. Your work was well ahead of its time, as you probably realize.’
Steiner sipped at his brandy. ‘And what exactly are you offering me?’
Leveski spread his hands in an expansive gesture. ‘Virtually anything, my dear Doctor. The resources of the finest and most comprehensive research facility in the world. Unlimited funds, an inexhaustible supply of human subjects for experimentation. And, probably most important to you, Doctor, total freedom to conduct biological experiments without any ethical or moral restraints. The chance to play God, in fact.’
Even if Steiner had not already been hooked, this last phrase would have clinched it. His eyes had a dreamy, faraway glaze to them. ‘This research establishment you spoke of. What is its actual purpose?’
‘To push the boundaries of medicine, surgery and biochemistry to their ultimate limits – and then beyond,’ Leveski said grandly. ‘To dream impossible dreams, and then to make those dreams come true. To travel on unknown roads – and to make new maps for others to follow in the future.’
Steiner’s heart surged. It seemed that he had heard such dreams outlined before, not so long ago. But those dreams had gone sour, decried and finally smashed to dust by a world which did not understand. Now, suddenly, it was as if he were being given a second chance.
‘And my colleagues? Who would I be working with?’ he wanted to know.
‘Others like yourself. Scientists who have dared to work in areas avoided by the squeamish and faint-hearted. We scoured Europe for them – the concentration camps, the germ-warfare establishments, the genetic study centres set up by your late Führer in his dream of a pure master race. All supplemented with the cream of our own scientists, of course.’
‘The human subjects? You would use your own people for such experiments?’
Leveski shrugged carelessly. ‘Some. Dissidents, activists, criminals, lunatics – the scum of our society. Polish Jews, prisoners of war, Mongolian peasants – the world is seething with displaced and expendable people, Doctor. As I told you, our supply of subjects is virtually inexhaustible.’
There was only one, comparatively minor question left to ask.
‘What about my wife and sons?’ Steiner wanted to know.
Leveski shook his head firmly. ‘I am afraid that our offer is for you alone, Dr Steiner. You must simply disappear without trace. They would be well provided for, of course. Your own needs would also be well catered for. There will be no shortage of available women where you are going.’
Steiner considered the matter unemotionally. There was just one last point to be cleared up.
‘Suppose I turn down this proposition?’ he asked.
‘Ah.’ Leveski looked apologetic. ‘Unfortunately, you now know too much to be left alive. Perhaps you are aware that at this moment several Israeli assassination teams are highly active throughout South America. We would simply pass on our information about your whereabouts to one of them. It would then be just a matter of time.’
The Russian broke off, to turn to his compatriot. ‘Viktor, why don’t you tell the good doctor how the Israelis’ victims die?’
The other man spoke for the first time, in a deep, guttural voice. His thick lips cracked open in a bestial, malicious grin. ‘Choked to death on their own genitals,’ he grunted, with obvious relish. ‘Hacked off and stuffed down their throats.’
Leveski stared Steiner coldly in the eyes, letting the image sink in. ‘Mind you, they might have something a bit more special for someone who used to perform surgical amputations without anaesthetic,’ he volunteered.
Steiner held the Russian’s gaze, the ghost of a smile playing over his lips. ‘When do we leave?’ he asked.
London – January 1993
Lieutenant-Colonel Barney Davies glanced around the Foreign Office conference room with a slight sense of surprise. He had not been expecting such a high-powered meeting.
