Chapter 10

The Woodcutter in the French Alps extended his stride. The snowshoes meant he created little indent in the snow covering. The shoes were designed to spread his weight and make travel relatively simple.

The sun had now fully risen and, as the Woodcutter had already warmed up his muscles chopping the wood, he made short work of the distance back to the mountain lodge. It was an impressive set up. The height of the valley meant that there was permanent snow all year round. The lodge itself had been built into the mountainside with the basement and part of the ground floor tucked underground so that only the first floor with its windows and balconies stood above the ground.

The windows were covered in non-reflective glass and the snow that had fallen layered the roof and most of the surrounds in a natural white blanket. The property was extremely discreet and very difficult to find.

The basement areas had equipment stores with a couple of skidoos, hundreds of metres worth of climbing rope and related kit. This area of the lodge was an Aladdin’s cave of outdoor equipment. Not only was there the standard mountain material of ice axes, crampons, winter coats, and thermals, but also skiing and boarding equipment to provide for the full adventurer’s playground. The structural walls had also been modified, with exits leading above ground to allow for an escape, so that skidoos and other craft could leave the property extremely quickly.

The ‘pièce de resistance’ was the relaxation zone. Just up from the basement area, a pine sauna room and separate changing area, incorporating a shower, had been fitted, which led onto the Jacuzzi and small heated pool.

The main stairs from the basement lockers then led up to the ground floor, which held the communal seating area, kitchen and dining zone.

Adjacent to the leather clad seats, a wonderful wood-burning stove took centre stage with a large flue leading to the wooden roof rafters. The heat that the stove radiated was more than enough to warm the entire ground floor. When combined with the standard under-floor heating and radiators in each of the five bedrooms, it meant for a very cosy and hospitable chalet.

A discreet part of the chalet had been adopted for the Woodcutter’s specific use.

Having arrived back at the chalet in double-quick time he had removed his jacket and deerstalker hat and walked up the main stairs to the first floor.

The second bedroom on the right-hand-side of the landing had no visible keyhole, no door-handle and no obvious seal or join. The Woodcutter had been proud of his work in setting up the alterations required and, after all, it was imperative that privacy was maintained if he wanted to continue to make a living.

He pointed an electronic fob at the reinforced steel opening. The steel was encased in wood to ensure an exact likeness of the overall effect of the chalet. It was important to his employers that everything continued to look ‘just so’.

The door swung softly open, revealing an electronic paradise of computer gadgetry. All of the Woodcutter’s work and his sole purpose in life lay within this communication equipment and the knowledge that it gave his employers.

His pager had indicated to go to Code White and he had been concerned by the news.

He had remotely turned on the main computer, prior to entering the chalet. By tapping in the relevant passwords and double checking that there were no other frequencies or nearby communications being used, he was able to send his message. It was a simple message, but in sensitive code to ensure that no authorities would understand the name of the vessel. If it had been deciphered, the Alana Princess would have been in trouble.