The Hugo Xavier Series: Book 1-3

by Filip Forsberg

  No, he couldn’t do that. Not when he’d gotten this far. He realized that his own life meant nothing to him anymore. Not when he was left alone. Not when his wife had killed herself because their daughter had died. It was worse than death to be constantly reminded that he’d had everything, but everything had been taken away from him. His blood boiled, and he screamed out his frustration.

  Adnan clenched his fist so hard that the knuckles whitened, then he banged the ceiling while he screamed. When the white-glowing anger finally drained from him, he sank and the air left him. Someone honked behind him, and he recoiled.

  “Watch it!”

  Adnan shook his head. He increased speed until he was once more behind a truck. The road spun, and he felt the dullness creep up within him. He had to take a break if he wasn’t going to run off the road. The wound on his shoulder pounded, but he had to push through. He had to keep it together long enough to take the two doctors out with him. He owed it to his wife and daughter. This one last gesture. He reached forward but immediately wished he hadn’t as pain tore through his shoulder, and he felt the wound open.

  A sign swooped overhead. His exit was in five hundred meters. Adnan took a deep breath and headed for the exit, moving softly off the highway. He had to tend the wound. He had to. Adnan followed the ramp and drove to a rest area parking. About ten cars were parked in the lot. There were three empty slots available at the far end, so he drove there and parked as far away from everyone else as he could get.

  He turned off the engine and leaned back while he took a few deep breaths. Then Adnan opened the door and stepped out. When he stood up, he had to hold on to the door so as not to fall. His hands were not as strong as before. Throwing his jacket into the passenger seat, Adnan walked around the car, opened the back door, and removed the bag. Then he closed the door and went to the bathroom.

  Two of the stalls were occupied, but the last one was vacant. Adnan went in and locked the door behind him. Pictures of his wife and daughter flicked through his mind. He went over to the sink, pulled off his shirt, and studied the wound. It looked relatively clean, but it had opened, and blood dripped from it freely.

  Adnan opened the bag, pulled out a sanitizing wipe, and cleaned the wound. When he touched it, it pounded, but he bit through the pain. When he was satisfied, he pulled out a jar and placed it on the sink. Then he pulled out a small box, opened it, and removed a needle and thread.

  He flexed every muscle in his body as he brought the edges of the wound together as well as he could and sewed five stitches. When he was done, he exhaled explosively and stood for a few minutes to catch his breath.

  There was a bang on the stall door, and someone shouted, “What are you doing in there?”

  He ignored the question. Adnan picked up the can and sprayed a thick layer over the now-sewn wound. When he was satisfied, he looked in the mirror. It wasn’t a masterpiece, but it would hold. It was going to have to do. There was another bang on the door.

  “What are you doing in there?” a woman called out. More people need to use the toilet!”

  Adnan pulled on his shirt and scraped his things back into the bag. He filled an empty plastic bottle with water, then unlocked the door. A young woman shoved past him, holding a little girl’s hand.

  “More people are waiting out here, you know!” she spat.

  Adnan didn’t answer. He proceeded back toward his car. A couple of picnic tables sat empty at the far end of the parking lot, and he drew near to one of them and sat down. He put the bag on the table, opened it, and pulled out a blue box. From the box, he took a little white pill.

  Adnan put the pill on his tongue and took a few sips of water. After a few minutes, the pounding pain in his shoulder began to slip away, replaced by a renewed sense of energy. Someone called from his left, and he saw the girl from the bathroom running toward him. He frowned as she approached him. The little girl looked at him wide-eyed.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Adnan smiled at the girl. She reminded him of his daughter.

  “Yes, I’m okay. Why are you asking?”

  The girl shrugged. “I just wondered why you were in the bathroom for so long. And I guess it was because you had a stomachache,” she said. “And our teacher at school says you should always be nice to sick people. And because Mom got mad at you, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

  Adnan smiled as the girl gave him her explanation.

  “Thank you,” he said. “That was truly kind. And yes, I had a little stomachache. But it’s much better now. Thank you for coming and asking.”

  The girl’s face shone. “Good! I’ll tell my mom you’re better. Goodbye.”

  And with that, the little girl spun around and skipped away.

  “Bye-bye,” Adnan whispered.

  ***

  Hugo looked at his team members, the irreplaceable Mikko, Sussie, and Freya. The interaction between them was wordless, but somehow everyone knew what to do. Hugo nodded and turned toward Inspector Sánchez.

  “Okay,” Hugo said, “see what you can do, and if you can send police right now to the castle, then that’s fine. Otherwise, send as much help as you can, and we’ll go straight there.”

  Sánchez shrugged. “Wait,” he said. He bent down and crawled back into the police bus. Hugo heard him rustling around inside, and thirty seconds later, he reappeared.

  “Here,” he said. “A police radio. So we can stay in touch.”

  Hugo took it. “Thank you,” he said and turned to the others. “Okay, take our stuff and as many weapons as possible. I suspect we may need a lot of firepower.”

  Mikko and Sussie nodded. “We’ll take care of that.”

  Freya spun around and jumped into the driver’s seat as Hugo climbed into the passenger side. When they were both in the car, Hugo turned to Freya.

  “Are you okay?”

  She shrugged. “Yes, I just feel bad that Mikko and I left you up there at the gas station.”

  Hugo shook his head. “No, don’t worry about it.”

  Freya looked at him. Her eyes sparkled. “You sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Hugo put his hand on Freya’s arm, and she put her hand on his. Freya was a formidable warrior. Hugo had seen her in battle several times, and there was no one he would rather have with him in a fight. When the shooting began, Freya was a Nordic war goddess.

  “Okay, good,” he said. Hugo nodded forward. “Let’s get Mikko and Sussie and get out of here.”

  Freya took the black Ford to where Mikko and Sussie stood waiting with their bags and the extra weapons they had collected from their attackers. Mikko and Sussie ran up to the car and opened the trunk. They threw everything inside, then jumped into the back seat.

  Hugo turned. “You guys good?”

  Mikko and Sussie responded in unison, “Good to go.”

  Freya revved the engine, swung around, and drove away from the chaos at the gas station. In the distance, sirens echoed as fire trucks set course for the gas station.

  When they got on the highway, everyone drew a sigh of relief. Hugo sank back in the seat.

  “That was intense.”

  Mikko chuckled.

  “Sure was.”

  “The Spaniard has good contacts if he can get resources so fast.”

  Hugo frowned.

  “Yes, but this is his home ground. We have to assume that he is always ahead of us in planning.”

  Sussie pulled out an iPad.

  “Yes, that’s right. But we can also do a little to equalize the odds.”

  Outside, the dusty Spanish landscape drifted by.

  ***

  There was a bang on the door, and Madeleine Singh shouted, “Come on in!”

  The door opened, and Fredrika entered. She held an iPad. “Here is the file on the Spaniard’s wife and child. That’s why he’s after them.”

  Madeleine shrugged. “Who?”

  “The two doctors. Zuch and Vimpel.”

  “
Let me see.”

  Fredrika gave the iPad to Madeleine, and she scrolled through the text.

  The board of Directors at Cabello Medico consists of three doctors. One of them is dead, but the other two are alive. Dr. Fredrich Zuch and Balthazar Vimpel. The three doctors co-founded Cabello Medico and are known in the medical industry as some of today’s most pioneering physicians. Zuch is married with no children. Vimpel is also married, and he and his wife have a daughter. At present, their place of residence is unknown, but they are suspected to be at the secret research facility La Rosa Española in northern Spain.

  Madeleine frowned. “I just hope Hugo and the others are prepared when they get there.”

  Fredrika pulled out a chair and sat. “What do you mean?”

  Madeleine shrugged. “If the Spaniard is really on his way there, all hell will break loose if Hugo and the others get into the line of fire.”

  Fredrika nodded. “Yes, Adnan doesn’t play games.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  Madeleine rose and walked over to the window. Outside, the sun shone and spread gold over Malmoe.

  15

  Power. That was all that mattered in life. Power to do what you wanted, when you wanted. LaCroix Richter stood up and walked up to the window. The sun’s warm afternoon rays beamed over the rooftops, and he let his eyes glide over them. He shivered. A voice spoke behind him.

  “Sir?”

  He turned around. It was Jasmin. She looked fabulous. Her high cheekbones, the beautiful fingers. LaCroix had surrounded himself with beauty all his life.

  “Hmm?”

  Jasmin walked up to the coffee table, picked up a remote control, and pointed it at the screen that hung on the wall. “There’s something you should see.”

  The screen flickered to life, and the beautiful Julia Hernandez appeared on the screen. The reporter’s dark hair was set in a hard knot, and her somber gaze was directed straight at the camera.

  “This is Julia Hernandez from NHT News. The dramatic day continues. We just received reports of gunfire on the highway. According to the preliminary information, there appears to have been a shooting at a gas station. Several people have been shot.”

  The reporter was sitting in a car, and it rocked as she spoke.

  “We’re currently on the highway, and in just a couple of kilometers, we’ll arrive at the gas station where the shooting occurred.”

  Julia continued talking while the camera zoomed past her and filmed straight ahead through the windshield. Two helicopters slid across the sky, and LaCroix saw the flashing light approaching. Julia’s voice became more excited as they got closer.

  “It’s not far now, and you’ll get a direct report from the situation as soon as we arrive.”

  LaCroix went closer to the screen, and sweat ran down his forehead. This had something to do with the Spaniard, he was sure. But had the Spaniard gotten into a shootout at a gas station? It made little sense. LaCroix swallowed as he tried in vain to get a handle on the events. Jasmin looked at him and frowned.

  “Are you okay?”

  LaCroix nodded hurriedly. “Yes, quiet. I need to see this.”

  Jasmin fell silent.

  Julia pointed to the perimeter at the exit. “Drive!”

  LaCroix flexed every muscle in his body when the journalist’s vehicle reached the police cordons and she jumped out. It was like he was there on the spot with her. A pair of heavily armed officers stood guard at the cordons, and they stopped Julia as she tried to move farther up.

  “We’re news journalists. We need to get over there!”

  The officer shook his head. “No—you can come right here, but no farther.”

  Julia was furious. “You have no right to stop us! Our viewers have a right to know what’s going on.”

  The officer was adamant. “No, I’m sorry.”

  Julia was close to losing patience but stopped at the last second. She turned to the camera, and her eyes flashed. “This isn’t over. We’ll keep trying until we get permission to get past the barriers. And when we do, you, our dear viewers, will receive a direct report from us. This is Julia Hernandez, NHT News.”

  LaCroix turned off the sound and massaged his temples. “Oh, my God.”

  Jasmin walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  LaCroix shrugged. “Leave me alone. Leave me. I have to think.”

  Jasmin nodded and left the room. A wave of nausea swept through LaCroix. He needed time to think, to figure out the next step, but it was like his brain wasn’t working. There was a knock on the door.

  “Not now!” he hissed.

  The knocking continued, and LaCroix spun around, red-faced. He rushed to the door and threw it open. “Not now!”

  The young man outside recoiled. He nodded jerkily and said, “I apologize, Mr. Richter. But you have a call, contact seven.”

  LaCroix winced. “Ah,” he said. “Lead the way.”

  The young man turned, and LaCroix followed him into the metal-clad room. LaCroix walked up to the chair, pulled it out, and sat down in front of the monitor on the table. The young man cleared his throat.

  “Hold on a sec.”

  The screen flickered, and a woman’s face appeared. LaCroix smiled as endearingly as he could.

  “Hello, Lisa.”

  Lisa Heyneman stared at LaCroix, and he thought he sensed a worry wrinkle above her eyebrows.

  “LaCroix.”

  Unsure how to begin, LaCroix just opened his mouth. “I assume you’re calling for an update?” he asked.

  Lisa leaned forward. “I’m calling to see if you’re in control of what’s going on.”

  He nodded briefly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’ve got everything under control.”

  “Do you? Because we’re following the situation, and in the last few hours, it’s looked rather like everything has gone wrong. Not only was there a shooting with the police earlier, but now there is more gunfire at a gas station. And not only that, but it’s all live on the news!”

  A vein throbbed visibly in Lisa’s forehead, and LaCroix got the feeling that he was sitting in front of a schoolteacher who was rebuking him. He drew a breath to answer, but Lisa held up her hand.

  “Now you listen to me!” she went on. “I’m dangerously close to thinking that inviting you to the Shadow Council was a mistake! This is not how we work. We work in secret, through cunning and shadows. We don’t arrange shootings in the middle of Spain, followed by news reports!”

  LaCroix tried to conjure up some saliva but failed. He coughed, and he cursed himself. When he was done, he drew his breath and stared into Lisa’s eyes. This was do or die. If he showed weakness now, it would all be over. He had to put it all on one card. When he spoke, his voice was icy-cold.

  “I understand very well what it means to be a member of the Shadow Council, and I still intend to be. This thing that’s happened is a minor mishap caused by a man who’s lucky as a madman. I’m still in control of the situation. And it’ll all be ready in a couple of hours.”

  Lisa sat motionless as the seconds passed. “Are you sure about that?”

  LaCroix conjured up all the willpower he had and kept his face as calm as he could. “Absolutely sure.”

  Lisa frowned. “You have one day. Tomorrow it’s going to be solved. Otherwise, you’re finished.”

  Before he could say anything more, the picture disappeared. LaCroix looked up at the roof, and he felt light. He whispered, “Tomorrow.”

  ***

  Fear. It was a feeling that Balthazar Vimpel felt a lot recently, and it wasn’t something he liked. He took a deep breath and leaned forward in the soft armchair. He looked at the anxious man sitting across from him.

  “Archie, take it easy, for God’s sake.”

  Archibald Zuch glared at him. “Take it easy? How can you say that? When we have that maniac after us?”

  Vimpel frowned. “It doesn’t get any easier with you all worked up. You heard w
hat Argento said. There is almost no chance of the Spaniard getting in here.”

  Archibald shook his head. “But how does he know that? How can he have a clue what someone like Adnan Kosh is thinking?”

  Vimpel met his gaze. “True, we can’t be sure, but still . . . getting worked up doesn’t help.”

  Archibald didn’t respond. He stood and began pacing back and forth again. Balthazar leaned back in the armchair and sighed. The minutes passed as if in slow motion.

  Vimpel thought back to the fateful day when he’d agreed that Kosh’s daughter could participate in the experiment. It was a decision that was long regretted. It was the kind of decision that made you wish you had a time machine, then you could go back and change it.

  But that was impossible, of course, and Vimpel cursed himself for using his energy on something that couldn’t be undone. The energy would be better spent on something he was good at—cutting into the bones of a problem, analyzing it, and coming up with an action plan.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Come in.”

  The door flew open, and Sky ran into the room. She bounded to her father and jumped up on his lap.

  “Is it still true?”

  He frowned. “Is what true?”

  The girl looked at him with wide eyes. “That we’re going home, of course! Is it still true?”

  Vimpel chuckled. “Yes, I promise. I’m preparing for us to go home,” he said. “As soon as we’re done with one thing we’re waiting on.”

  Sky’s shoulders sank slightly. “Oh.”

  Vimpel saw the disappointment in his daughter’s eyes and leaned toward her. “It’s a surprise. But don’t tell Mom, okay?”

  The girl’s eyes grew wide. “You have a surprise for Mom?”

  Vimpel swallowed and nodded. “That’s right.”