Prime Target u-10

by Hugh Miller

  ‘What about the Stramm woman? Wasn’t Sabrina able to alert her that Wolff is a wrong target?’

  ‘Erika Stramm is missing from home. Not been seen since early yesterday, and her only close contact, the Russian guy Gregor, is mystified.’

  ‘There’s one slim hope,’ Philpott said. ‘We managed to get both main Berlin daily papers to run stories about Wolff in connection with the computer show. Both pieces cover his parentage, his background, there’s even a few childhood pictures. Maybe Ahlin will see a paper and get the message.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I presume Wolff will have a proper team of marksmen covering him while he’s in Berlin?’

  ‘Afraid not,’ Mike said. ‘The Austrian clodhoppers are coming with him. National pride, all that stuff.’

  ‘Then you’d better cover him yourself, Mike. Get Sabrina on the job and as many sharpshooters from the Berlin police as you can persuade to do us an unofficial favour.’

  ‘Believe me, sir, I’ll do all I can to protect Wolff.’

  ‘I don’t want him coming to any harm. God, it’s unthinkable.’

  Mike was about to say ‘trust me’, but he lacked the confidence to back reassurance on that level. ‘I’ll keep you informed, sir. Sorry I broke into your sleep time.’

  Philpott mumbled something and hung up. Mike finished dressing, decided to skip breakfast and got reception to call him a taxi. Before he left his room he strapped on a shoulder holster and loaded up his Harrington and Richardson Defender, a five-shot .38 he kept as a memento of his days with Delta. Apart from its sentimental associations, the weapon had a 3-inch barrel, which gave reassuring accuracy over medium-to-long range.

  Half a kilometre from the place Mike was staying, Sabrina Carver emerged from her hotel at one minute after nine and got into her taxi. Twenty seconds later, as the cab pulled away, an inconspicuous grey Opel across the street started up and slipped into the stream of traffic three vehicles behind Sabrina’s car. The driver of the Opel was Einar Ahlin. Beside him, tightly belted in and angry, was Erika Stramm.

  ‘There is no need for this,’ she said as they clipped a red light to stay close to Sabrina’s taxi. ‘I’ve told you, keep the money. I’ll even give you a generous laying-off bonus.’

  ‘Not the point,’ Ahlin snapped.

  Erika stared at him. It was ironical that he looked so much like the ideal of the people he hated. Today, wearing a black leather jacket and black polo shirt, he reminded her of a photograph she had seen of the arch-Nazi Reinhard Heydrich, relaxing with Hitler and Eva at a lodge by the Baltic.

  ‘I think you have forgotten the basis of our relationship,’ Erika said. ‘I employ and specify, you carry out my instructions and get paid for doing so.’

  ‘I think perhaps you have not properly understood the relationship in the first place,’ he said, keeping his eyes on the traffic. ‘You gave me the opportunity to embark on a mission against specific vermin. I was grateful for that, I am still grateful. But you cannot expect me to dismantle my determination.’ He glanced at her, his eyes wide. ‘You can’t expect me to chop the legs off my will. I am on a set course and that is that.’

  She had never seen him like this. Before, he had displayed an easy-going temperament, a smoothness of style that added a fine sinister edge to his desire to slaughter Nazis. Now he looked like a bare-fanged fanatic.

  ‘Why am I being treated like a prisoner, Einar?’

  ‘You are not a prisoner,’ he said curtly.

  ‘You won’t let me do what I want. You’ve insisted I be here with you today. You’ve curbed my freedom and I call that being treated like a prisoner.’

  ‘You’re here with me because I want you to be close when the subject is hit. I want you to experience the zest of the event, the rightness of what I do. Then perhaps you will understand that I must carry on, and that it is in your interests as well as mine that I do.’

  ‘You read that article in the paper, for heaven’s sake. This man Wolff is not a target. He’s nothing to do with the Jugend von Siegfried. Anybody can see that.’

  ‘Any idiot might believe it, Erika, but it doesn’t fool me. That stuff is just more snow, more cover for a Nazi as rotten as the rest of them.’

  The previous day Einar had come to the bar where they met once a month to perform the small ritual of lunch and the handing over of a cheque for his services. When Erika told him she had decided to let the authorities deal with the remaining members of the Jugend von Siegfried, he had gone very quiet. He would not eat lunch and, when finally she announced she was leaving, he would not let her go. He had used no violence against her, but she knew it would come to that if she tried to get away.

  ‘You should learn to absorb the messages and the lessons of omens,’ Ahlin said now.

  ‘I don’t understand that kind of talk.’

  The previous evening, as they left the place where they had met, Erika saw Sabrina. She told Ahlin who she was, and felt compelled to spill it all, the coercion, the acceleration of what was probably inevitable. Ahlin had driven slowly along the street, following Sabrina until he found out where she lived. He had then booked a double room in a cold-water hotel opposite the much nicer place where Sabrina stayed. They had spent the night there, taking turns at watching the front of the hotel.

  ‘The police will be on the case very soon,’ Erika said. ‘You should pull out before that happens, before they’re swarming all over the Nazis.’

  Ahlin expelled air between his teeth. ‘I might as well have said nothing to you,’ he said. ‘Try to get it into your skull, I don’t care about the police or anybody else. I have a job, a God-sent job, and I’m going to carry it through.’

  ‘Then do it without me.’

  ‘You stay and you witness this one hit. That is important, I told you why.’

  ‘I want to go home and see Gregor.’

  ‘He will wait. This won’t.’

  He swung the car round a corner by a wide-fronted conference centre and parked it at the side of the road.

  ‘This is the place.’

  He pointed behind them. Erika looked and saw Sabrina get out of her taxi and enter the building.

  ‘Didn’t I say so, when you wanted to argue during the night? Didn’t I say this woman would attach herself to the man Wolff? They are all part of a whole, don’t you see?’

  ‘Why follow her? You were coming here anyway, it was in the paper where he would be today.’

  Ahlin gently eased Erika’s fingers away from the buckle of her seatbelt. ‘We are not going in there.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Too many people, too much protection around Herr Wolff. I only ever tempt fate so far, and no further. We will follow him when he leaves.’

  ‘How will you see him in among the crowd?’

  ‘He is a protected person. He will come out while the show is busy. It will be quiet out here.’ Ahlin smiled thinly. ‘Rely on my judgement, Erika.’

  ‘You still haven’t told me why we followed the girl.’

  ‘I wanted to see if my instinct was right,’ he said. ‘And it was. She is part of what we oppose, she is integrated, whatever her motives.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So I will break my working rule.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I will kill both Wolff and the girl.’

  * * *

  Wolff left the exhibition centre at one o’clock. An armoured Mercedes Benz saloon, property of the Viennese police, was driven up to the front door and he came out with his two lumbering bodyguards behind him. Mike and Sabrina hung back, watching his flanks, guns cocked and ready under their coats. Another two marksmen were at windows on the second floor.

  As soon as Wolff was in the Mercedes Mike and Sabrina got into a police Volkswagen which had been hastily rented, together with its driver, after tight bargaining in the refreshment room. Five hundred dollars to the police widows’ fund would let them have the car, driver and the use of a long-range rifle for
six hours. Anything after that would be subject to fresh negotiation.

  ‘Where are they taking him?’ Sabrina asked as they raced along back streets towards the north of the city.

  ‘A hotel in the Mühlenbeck district,’ Mike said. ‘It’s out of the way, on a quiet street. He has offered to work on finishing the ICON security programs while he’s in Berlin, and he’s had a load of computer equipment installed in a top-floor suite at the hotel. I suppose we should be grateful for that.’

  ‘What’s security going to be like?’

  ‘The Austrians have agreed to two extra marksmen in the building with him. They’re from the Berlin police, both hotshots.’ Mike patted the heavy rifle on the seat beside him. ‘I’ll be in the next building with this baby.’

  ‘And I’ll be watching the door, as usual.’

  ‘Don’t be bitter, Sabrina.’

  When they reached the hotel the Mercedes drew up close to the door and Wolff was hurried inside. Sabrina moved into the front passenger seat beside the police driver. Mike went to the warehouse next door to the hotel, where police had arranged that he should have a window seat looking directly into Wolff’s suite.

  He called Sabrina on the mobile and confirmed he was in position. ‘It’s tidy,’ he said. ‘The goons are sitting at either end of Wolff’s work table, watching him do his stuff. The extra marksmen should be here in a few minutes. I’m ready to go ballistic if anything irregular happens.’

  ‘And I’m striking up a friendship with a nice German boy in the front seat of a cop car,’ Sabrina said. ‘What happens after today? Is Wolff going back to Austria?’

  ‘He stays here until blue eyes is in custody. The wheels are turning. The police will be looking for him soon, so it won’t be long.’

  A hundred metres from the hotel, Einar Ahlin was standing by his Opel, using a foot-pump to inflate a tyre he had manually deflated as soon as he stopped.

  Erika sat in the front of the car, behind the steering wheel, coping with a new level of stress. On the way across the city, tailing the Mercedes through heavy traffic and along narrow back turnings, Ahlin said he had decided she could no longer simply pay for his services, she had to be practical in her condemnation of the Jugend von Siegfried. She must stick with him.

  She wound down the window. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  ‘Wait to be inspired,’ he said, watching the hotel. ‘I think we can move closer.’

  He finished inflating the tyre, put the pump in the boot and got in beside Erika. She drove along past the front of the hotel. There was no sign of the big Mercedes.

  ‘God,’ Erika said suddenly. ‘It’s her.’

  Ahlin looked at the car they were passing. Sabrina was perfectly visible, sitting in the front with the police driver.

  ‘Now do you understand about omens?’ Ahlin said. ‘Stop the car!’

  Erika drew in to the side and braked. Ahlin jumped out and walked back to the police car. Erika watched him in the rearview mirror.

  ‘Lunatic,’ she murmured.

  There was a strong impulse to run, but she knew it would never work. He would find her, and she didn’t want to think what he would do then.

  ‘Out!’ Ahlin snapped, jerking open the driver’s door of the police car. ‘Out now! Out!’

  The young officer scrambled out and as he straightened up by the open door Ahlin hit him on the side of the head with the barrel of his revolver. The officer dropped without a sound. Sabrina had the other door open when she felt the pressure of the gun in her back.

  ‘Come out slowly,’ Ahlin said. ‘Very slowly.’

  She slid across the seats and got out. As she did, a police armoured vehicle appeared and drew in at the side of the hotel, near the entrance to an alley running behind the building. Two men carrying rifles and wearing dark combat suits got out. Almost at once the vehicle moved off and disappeared round the corner.

  ‘Who are they?’ Ahlin said. ‘Tell me or I’ll shoot you.’

  Sabrina told him they were the reinforcement guard for Andreas Wolff.

  ‘Go across. Speak to them. Improvise. Understand?’

  Sabrina brought up her arm sharply, almost knocking the gun from Ahlin’s grip. He held on to it and simultaneously grabbed her hair. He tugged once, hard, making her yelp.

  ‘Try anything like that again,’ he muttered, ‘and I won’t bother with warnings, I’ll shoot you. Now speak to those men, and remember I’m right at your back.’

  She crossed the road, waving to the marksmen. Ahlin walked three paces behind her.

  ‘Are you going up to Herr Wolff’s suite?’ Sabrina asked the marksmen in German. ‘Perhaps I can show you the way.’

  They stared at her, scowling, puzzled.

  ‘You must forgive her,’ Ahlin said, pushing her ahead of him, smiling, emanating charm. ‘She talks without thinking.’

  When he was close enough he shoved Sabrina aside, knocking her down. He brought forward his revolver, pushing it in a marksman’s face.

  ‘Drop your guns,’ he hissed. ‘Do it now!’

  They dropped the weapons. In a single sweep Ahlin hit one man in the face with his revolver, breaking his cheekbone, and swiped the other across the chin with the butt. Both men went down. Almost casually, watching Sabrina scramble to her feet, Ahlin crouched and hit each man on the temple with the chamber of the revolver.

  ‘Help me,’ he told Sabrina, waving the gun.

  He stood by, keeping the gun trained on her as she dragged one unconscious man then the other into the alley behind the hotel.

  ‘Now I’m going to become a police sureshot,’ Ahlin said. ‘And you’re going to be my pretty helper, yes?’ He pointed to one of the marksmen. ‘Strip off his combat suit.’

  Eight minutes later, as Mike sat watching through his peep sight, he saw the main door of Wolff’s suite swing open and a police marksman come in. Only one.

  ‘Better than none…’

  He continued to watch as the marksman said something. The others in the room, Wolff and his two bodyguards, turned and stared at him.

  Several things happened in rapid order. The two Austrians were on their feet, reaching for their guns. Wolff leaned across his work table, picked up three or four optical storage disks and pushed them down the front of his trousers. The police marksman levelled his sub-machine-gun and shot the two bodyguards. As they fell, one of them smearing the wallpaper with his blood, the marksman grabbed Andreas Wolff by the shoulders and head-butted him in the face. Dazed, Wolff let himself be dragged to the door.

  Mike couldn’t get a clear shot in. He grabbed the rifle and ran, taking the stairs to the ground floor three at a time. He got outside in time to see the police Volkswagen scream away from the kerb. A woman was at the wheel. In the back Einar Ahlin was just visible. He appeared to be tying Andreas Wolff’s hands.

  Sabrina called out. Mike turned and saw her kneeling on the pavement at the side of the hotel. Her hands were bound behind her back. Blood ran from a wound on her arm.

  Mike eased her to her feet and undid the cord on her wrists. ‘He shot me when he came out,’ she panted. ‘Nearly missed. I never knew I could roll so fast.’

  Mike held her close. ‘I don’t want to sound callous,’ he said, ‘or uncaring, but there’s no time to pamper you right now.’ He looked up and down the quiet street. ‘I didn’t expect him to kidnap Wolff. I have to get after them.’

  ‘Do something for my arm and I’ll come with you.’

  Mike took a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it in a strip. He wrapped it round her arm, tied a secure knot, patted her shoulder and pronounced her cured.

  ‘Or as good as.’ He shouldered the rifle. ‘Now come on. We’ve got to steal something faster than a police Volkswagen.’

  27

  For an hour after clearing the Berlin city limits Erika Stramm drove steadily north-east, keeping to main roads, only making diversions when the traffic became heavy and slowed her down.

  ‘I hope you k
now what you’re doing,’ she told Einar Ahlin. ‘The police could pull us over any time.’

  ‘The police will be looking for this car in the city,’ Ahlin said. He was still in the back seat, sprawled beside Andreas Wolff, who sat awkwardly, his hands taped behind him. ‘That is why I showed you the fast route out. The police would presumably throw up road blocks, but I’ve timed measures of that kind in a number of cities, Erika. It takes a minimum thirty minutes just to get three blocks in place. We were out in eighteen minutes. Ergo, the police are wasting their time, which is always a soothing thought.’

  ‘They won’t just be looking for us in Berlin,’ Andreas Wolff said. ‘This little kidnap merits a nationwide alert.’

  ‘Again, an unwieldy thing to implement,’ Ahlin said. ‘But facts and figures have no place in this. My instincts are what matter. My instincts and the way I use them to sustain my run of fortune.’

  ‘In my view,’ Wolff said, ‘you should put yourself in the hands of a competent psychiatrist.’

  Ahlin sat forward. ‘It is stupid to confuse mental hyper-acuity with mental disorder,’ he said.

  ‘I never do that,’ Wolff said. ‘You’re mentally disordered. There’s no doubt about it.’

  Ahlin punched Wolff on the mouth. The impact jerked Wolff’s head sideways against the door pillar. As he straightened up Ahlin punched him again. Wolff grunted, pursing his lips to stem the rush of blood from his mouth.

  ‘Don’t speak again,’ Ahlin told him. He looked over Erika’s shoulder at the road ahead. ‘What did the last sign say?’

  ‘Gristow, eighty-two kilometres.’

  ‘In that case I think you should drive a little faster.’

  It began to rain, big drops exploding on the windshield.

  ‘You’re sure about this boat?’ Erika said, putting her foot down a fraction, making the car surge forward. ‘How do you know you’ll be able to use it?’