The Hugo Xavier Series: Book 1-3

by Filip Forsberg

  “Take Sussie down and wait for the Spanish police. They should be here any minute. I don’t want her having to face them herself.”

  Freya glanced past Hugo toward Adnan Kosh.

  “And him?”

  “Mikko and I will keep an eye on him.”

  “Okay.”

  Freya turned around and left the room. Hugo heard them walking away in the hallway. Mikko stood like a statue with the gun pointed at the Spaniard. Hugo lifted his weapon and pointed it at Leonid. Leonid moaned when he once again had a gun pointed at him.

  “I’m not the one you should be worried about in this room.”

  Hugo glanced over at Mikko. “Everything okay, Mikko?”

  The gargantuan Finn chuckled. “Everything is fine. He’s not going anywhere,” he said.

  They stood silent for several minutes, and none of the men moved. Sweat, mold, and sand permeated the room. Another minute passed. Hugo tried to induce some saliva, didn’t succeed, and chose to ignore the thirst. He should have brought water. He swore quietly as his thirst grew. Far away in the distance, sirens blared, and he saw in the corner of his eye as Mikko’s face moved toward the window. At the same moment, the Spaniard exploded from his kneeling position.

  Hugo had never seen anything like it. The Spaniard jumped up in a single soft motion. Without stopping, he flew up like a human torpedo straight toward Mikko. Mikko reflexively pressed the trigger, and a shot exploded. The room reverberated, and Hugo saw blood splashed up from the Spaniard’s shoulder when the shell hit. But he continued through the air and landed on Mikko high on his shoulder. The Finn staggered backward and dropped his weapon. It fell rattling to the floor. Hugo moved his weapon against Adnan.

  “No!”

  But Adnan moved like mercury. He bent down, fished up the weapon that Mikko had dropped, and threw himself into a tiger leap toward the window. It went into a thousand pieces while the Spaniard flew through it. Hugo twisted, pulled the trigger, and swept it toward the Spaniard. Dozens of bullets smashed into the frame around the window that the Spaniard flew through. But when Adnan flew into the open, he turned in the air, and just as he was moving earlier, he carried out a seemingly impossible motion.

  The Spaniard clutched the trigger, and the weapon resounded. Hugo threw himself into cover when bullets veered around him and hit the wall behind. Mikko crawled away, pulled out his handgun, and roared.

  “Sussie and Freya!”

  Below, someone screamed, and they flinched when shots were heard from the bottom window.

  ***

  Never, never, ever give up. Sánchez echoed Winston Churchill’s famous proverb as he reached up and grabbed one of the handles hanging from the ceiling inside the police bus. He held his breath when the driver pressed the accelerator and took the curve almost on two wheels. For a moment, he thought the bus was going to tip over.

  The driver bellowed, “Hold on!”

  Sánchez flexed every muscle in his massive body and even squeezed out a smile when everyone in the bus called out when the two tires on the left side finally again got to grips with the road.

  “It’s a wild ride!” he chuckled.

  One of the six black-clad, heavily armed officers shouted, “Let’s go!”

  Sánchez pushed away the nausea he’d felt in the last fifteen minutes. Now wasn’t the time to show any weakness. But inside, his body longed after a break. The firefight in Pacculi had been nerve-wracking. But luckily, he hadn’t been forced to repel down. At least it was something. He had contented himself with directing the battle from above. And at first, it would have gone well, but then it had gone swiftly downhill. But when he had at least Hugo Xavier, it would have looked like something had gone his way. The Spaniard’s escape was annoying, but Sánchez was still sure he was going to get caught.

  This was Spain, after all, Sánchez’s country. But when Hugo escaped from his men, Sánchez had felt that it was quite embarrassing, and he’d scolded the officers responsible for notes. But someone on the highway had received a tip about a fleeing car, and now Sánchez was here, going full speed toward an industrial area far out in the woods. He swore.

  “Okay,” he said, gazing on the six officers, “No mistakes this time. The entire Spanish police force is looking at us now. Everything we do will be studied, so let us, for God’s sake, don’t make any mistakes.”

  All six officers made the sign of the cross. One of them, a young man with a short beard, leaned forward.

  “And we’re sure they’re there? Both the Spaniard and the man who escaped?”

  Inspector Sánchez bared his teeth in a shark-like smile.

  “Everyone. The Spaniard, the man who escaped, and Hugo. They’ve all fled there.”

  “Why? Are they in collusion?”

  Sánchez frowned. “It doesn’t matter. Our job is to catch them all. They shot up the house in Pacculi, and this has to end. We can’t have such lunatics lose in Spain.”

  The police with the short beard met Sánchez’s gaze. “But Hugo Xavier—I’ve heard of him. He works at that company up in Denmark or Sweden. He’s hardly in cahoots with the Spaniard. I could never imagine that.”

  Sánchez’s lips turned into a line. “It doesn’t matter what you think. The only thing that matters is he’s in the same place as two wanted criminals. Do you understand?”

  The officer nodded. “Yeah, I understand.”

  The driver knocked on the hatch that separated him from the rear of the bus.

  “One minute,” he said.

  Everyone in the bus showed each other a single index finger—one minute. Sánchez drew a deep breath and wiped away the sweat flowing down his face. The heat in the back was excruciating. No matter how much the air conditioning struggled, it could not keep a hold on the Spanish heat.

  The bus ran over a bump and tossed the passengers into the air. He stiffened when he heard gunshots.

  “No! Look out!” the driver called.

  Seconds later, a shot echoed, and the police bus was hit. Sánchez leaned forward and pressed his head against the small hatch that separated them in the driver from the rest of the bus. Through the hatch, he saw a man flying through a window of the police bus just a couple of meters from where he was. As if in slow motion, the man was unable to turn around in the air while he opened fire on the window he’d left. The man sailed through the air like a bird while fire and death left his weapon. Seconds later, he landed on the ground.

  “Stop, stop. Everyone out!” Sánchez roared.

  The rear doors of the police bus flew up, and all the officers streamed out. Sánchez stumbled after. He jumped to the ground, nearly fell when his weight strained his legs to the extreme but stayed upright. His men swiftly spread out in a crescent as they approached the man who landed on the ground. When the man staggered up, Sánchez recognized him. The Spaniard. He roared commands to his men, and they spread out as hunters do with prey. The officers moved in sync and kept the Spaniard in sight as they moved closer. One of them screamed.

  “Police! Lie down! Drop the gun and get down on the ground!”

  A shadow flickered in the window through which the Spaniard had flown. There was someone there. Sánchez glanced at the window, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Hugo Xavier. Two birds with one stone. This would be the pinnacle of his career. In front of him, the Spaniard staggered his legs as he made his way to his shoulder. Sánchez waved.

  “Are you hurt? Lie down, and you’ll get help!”

  The Spaniard moved closer to the three cars standing in front of the house. He supported himself against the closest. “Yeah, you’re right. Just wait a minute, let me catch my breath.”

  Sánchez smirked. “Okay, don’t worry. Just lie down.”

  The Spaniard lifted an arm while he bent down. “Okay, don’t shoot.”

  Sánchez smelled victory when the Spaniard bent down. He would give up. Sánchez chuckled. What a day! The Spaniard bent down, but instead of lying on the ground, he bent into the back seat of
the car. A moment later, he moved back, and Sánchez flinched as something small and black flew through the air.

  “Grenade!”

  Just like that, everything around them exploded in pure and uncut chaos.

  11

  Madeleine pushed the chair back, rose, and walked out of the room. She was met by Fredrika, who was close to bumping into her. Fredrika called out.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!”

  Madeleine smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Fredrika held an iPad in her hand, and she tapped it. “Here. Our crypto guys have made a breakthrough. Or a small one anyway.”

  “What?”

  Fredrika pulled her finger on the screen, and a long list of phone numbers appeared.

  “Here is the list that we had, and these three numbers used. But our guys eliminated two of them as uninteresting. But the third goes to an untraceable number. It’s highly unusual and requires advanced knowledge of telecommunications,” she said, “and that’s not all. We were able to track where the number was called by following the encrypted stream.“

  “Where?”

  Fredrika smiled and gesticulated that she would accompany her over to her desk. As they walked closer, she put the iPad near the screen, and the screen flickered and displayed a map of Spain. She tapped the screen.

  “Here’s Pacculi,” she said, “and here’s where the data stream went.”

  Madeleine watched as a line was drawn from Pacculi, to Madrid, and up to England. Then the line moved to Russia, Austria, and then back to Europe, where it stopped in Paris. Fredrika tapped on the French capital.

  “In the middle of Paris.”

  Madeleine whistled. “Not bad, Fredrika, well done. Do we have any closer coordinates on where in Paris the signal landed?”

  Fredrika bit her lip. “Not yet. It takes a little more luck for us to follow the communication, but I think it’s going to work. The guys in IT are working on it.”

  Madeleine smiled. “Good, thanks for the information. I’m calling to activate one of our teams to get ready for a possible effort in Paris.”

  Fredrika picked up the iPad, and the screen went dark. “Okay, I’ll go down to IT and see how it goes.”

  “Thank you.”

  Fredrika left Madeleine, and she stood still and looked out over the handful of men and women who worked in the office. They were highly trained and capable men and women who overcame at least three active operations. This is what Novus did. They operated in the twilight country that the international business world was now. Discoveries, patents, and industrial secrets were worth billions of dollars, and there was a glaring need for security within that world. Madeleine Singh had created Novus to offer those services.

  And that would have been a good choice. In the years that Novus had worked, they had already acquired a reputation as a highly competent security partner. And Madeleine was careful that the company’s reputation would continue to be as good as it was now.

  Adem came up to her. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. Just standing and thinking about the future.”

  Adem chuckled. “It’s always somewhat insecure, isn’t it?”

  Madeleine shrugged. “Yes, it is.” She paused and said, “Adem, can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Can you see if you can gather all the information we have about Cabello Medico?”

  Adem frowned. “The people who hired us?”

  Madeleine nodded. “Yes. I just want to go through everything to make sure that there’s nothing we missed. This mission moves so fast, and if there is the slightest help we can get for Hugo and the team, we have to do it.”

  Adem tilted his head. “Of course, I’ll get on it right away,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  He spun around, walked over to his desk, and sat down. Madeleine went back into her office and sank into the office chair. She took a deep breath. She shouldn’t jump the gun, but something was off. There was something about Argento who had felt wrong when they talked. She’d gotten to know Reinhard Argento through joint colleagues in the security world. But they had never worked together, and she didn’t fully know if Argento’s manner was normal. Still, something during the conversation had struck her as strained. But maybe she was the one who was paranoid. After a few minutes, a message appeared on her monitor. It was from Adem.

  File ready. Here is the link.

  - Adem.

  Madeleine took a deep breath and clicked the link. A folder appeared on the screen. She scrolled through it. Background info. Dossiers. She’d read it all. She scrolled on. One last folder. Extra. She clicked on it. A document appeared.

  Summary.

  In the last three years, Cabello Medico has faced four lawsuits from patients’ families after patients died during treatment. The lawsuits allege that Cabello Medico exposed patients to unnecessary risks in evaluating the effectiveness of experimental treatments. According to an internal report from a study, there have been seven different experimental treatments in which between six and eight patients died. In the preliminary investigations, Cabello Medico claimed that the patients in these treatments were terminally ill and would still have died even if they hadn’t received the treatment. An investigation is currently underway to see if the subpoenas have a legal basis. Further analysis is recommended.

  Madeleine frowned, and her thoughts swirled. Could it be that Cabello Medico was reckless with patients’ lives in search of new, groundbreaking treatments? Or was it just that these terminal patients simply died a natural death? She bit her lip, got up, and approached the window. Outside, dark clouds rolled in from the horizon.

  ***

  Hugo took the steps three at a time as he flew down the stairs. Men shouted outside, and he nearly slipped but stayed upright.

  “Freya! Sussie!”

  No answer. He rushed on, and Mikko came running behind him. The great Finn moved surprisingly fast. Hugo swore when he heard the door slam. A woman shouted.

  “Lie down!”

  It was Freya’s voice. She was alive.

  Hugo roared as he ran, “I’m coming!”

  Outside, the men kept shouting and screaming, and when Hugo was almost down when an explosion just outside knocked him over. The roar was deafening as the door was pushed in, and a huge dust cloud rolled into the foyer. His ears rang when he crawled up. He stumbled to the edge of the stairs and tried to see something through the swirling smoke and dust. There! A body lay by the stairs. Hugo crouched and made his way down to it.

  It was Sussie.

  He wiped away the dirt covering her face and saw that some dust was moving under her nose. She was alive. Sussie opened her eyes and looked around.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he said. “Are you hurt?”

  She sat up with a bit of effort. “No, I don’t think so. Where’s Freya?”

  A voice came from their right. “Here.”

  Hugo and Sussie looked up at Freya, who stumbled into the doorway from the inner room.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “A little bruised, but otherwise fine.”

  Hugo smiled. “Good.”

  Mikko came down to them, and a grin spread over his face when he saw that everyone had survived. Hugo pointed to the opening.

  “Careful now.”

  He crouched and made his way to the doorway. He peeked out. Black-clad men lay motionless about ten feet away. A fat man staggered around even farther away and roared orders to someone Hugo couldn’t see. He looked right, left, but didn’t see the Spaniard. He swore.

  “He’s gone.”

  Mikko came up in the doorway. “The Spaniard? How can that be? He must be out there somewhere,” he said.

  Hugo looked for movement but saw only two of the black-clad men moving. The fat man farther away had taken off his helmet, and Hugo saw it was Inspector Sánchez. The police chief roared at someone in the bus a short distance away.

&
nbsp; Hugo’s brain rushed. If they left the house now, they risked being gunned down by the three police officers who were still standing. But if they stayed here, the Spaniard could get away. And it was certainly their hand grenade that Freya had brought in the car that the Spaniard got his hands on. Hugo swore. There would be retaliation for this. He looked back and saw Freya and Sussie arrive.

  “Are you guys okay?”

  The two women nodded, and Freya bared her teeth. “Yeah, is he out there?”

  Hugo shrugged. “I can’t see him.”

  Freya peeked out. “And I guess we’re not going out that way.”

  “No, there’s a lot of cops out there. Some of them are probably shaken because of the hand grenade, but there are at least four, maybe five left.”

  Freya frowned. “Okay, then we’ll have to take another way out.”

  Hugo looked at her. “Yes, I think we will. Do you have any ideas?”

  Freya nodded. “There was a sign farther back that pointed right in the aisle. If we take it, maybe we’ll get out there.” She pointed at the L-shaped building.

  Mikko scratched his cheek. “And then?”

  Freya shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least we should move. We can’t stay here.”

  Hugo thought it was the best decision. After a few seconds, he nodded.

  “Okay, let’s go,” he said.

  They retreated to the hall behind the foyer and turned right. They continued for about ten meters and then turned right as the corridor turned. Out in the open, the last black-clad officers made their way out of the police bus, and Sánchez led them toward the entrance. On the ground, three policemen lay still. Someone screamed something, and Hugo saw something move under the car closest to the entrance from the corner of his eye.

  A shadow. It crawled out on the other side of the police, and in a fraction of a second, the shadow stood up.

  “No!” Hugo shouted.

  But the officers didn’t hear the warning. The Spaniard moved like mercury. He lifted the gun and opened fire. A violent roar echoed through the air as the Spaniard fired at the officers. Two of them fell immediately. Hugo saw Sánchez throw himself into cover and disappear into a dust cloud as bullets hit the ground around him.