The Captive Girl

by David Nees

  Dan slipped inside and partly closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to risk making any additional noise by trying to latch it. He stood still, controlling his breathing, making no sound. He was a shadow, a ghost. There was a dim glow coming through the curtains from the street outside. Dan could see two beds with two bodies in each of them. One man was snoring loudly. They were all partially dressed, pants, undershirts, but no shoes or socks. The air was dense with the strong odor of unwashed bodies.

  He took a step forward and raised his pistol. Four thwacks came from the suppressed weapon. The sound was hardly louder than the click of a door latch. Four holes appeared in the heads of the sleepers. They would never awake. If my count is correct, that’s four down and maybe six to go. Dan listened at the door and then stepped back into the hall.

  He padded slowly down the hall to the second bedroom door. This room was in the center of the building. Dan turned the knob and pushed gently against the door. It held for a moment and then gave way with a louder squeak than the first door. Dan stepped inside. Two men were in separate beds. They both sat up, one was rubbing sleep from his eyes the other was reaching for his gun on the night stand next to the bed. Dan shot him and swung the weapon back to the other man as he switched on a light. It was Jabbar.

  Dan paused. Here was his target, he should shoot and leave, but he hesitated.

  “Do you know who I am?” Dan asked speaking German in a low voice.

  Jabbar looked at him, now fully awake. Then his eyes turned to the pistol on his side table.

  “You’ll never get to it,” Dan said.

  “Who are you?” Jabbar finally asked.

  “Frankfurt Airport. I’m the one who ruined you plans. Your suicide bombers failed. Your assault teams were intercepted and your rocket only hit the tail of the plane.” Dan paused for a moment. “And you didn’t get away. I tracked you here.”

  “So now you kill me?”

  Dan nodded. “I am the angel of death…for you and all of your kind.”

  With that Dan pulled the trigger and Jabbar fell back with a hole in his forehead. Dan stepped forward and put two more rounds into the terrorists.

  He opened the door and entered the hall. A man from the last bedroom was standing outside his door, his pistol in his hand.

  “Who are you?” He asked in Arabic.

  Dan fired his .22 and the man jerked. His 9mm went off into the ceiling as he fell back. Dan put two more shots into his torso, sending him to the ground. There were shouts in the back bedroom. Dan ran for the stairs as two more men burst into the hall. They saw their comrade on the floor and someone running. They opened fire as Dan turned and raced down the stairs, taking the steps three at a time. He pulled the front door open and dove through it as shots flew over his head.

  The shots and sounds of the men shouting and running down the stairs were loud. Lights started going on in the adjacent apartments. He would never make it down the long drive illuminated by the street lights. Getting back to the wall and his van was not an option. He made the calculation in an instant and turned left towards the railroad tracks.

  He sprinted across the street trying to reach the cover of the embankment when a flurry of shots rang out. A bullet slammed into his back, like a huge fist had pounded him. His vest stopped the round, but Dan was thrown to the ground. He didn’t stop, but scrambled on his hands and knees and dove into the brush. He tumbled down the embankment. When he hit the bottom, he got up, fighting for breath as he forced his body to move forward towards the train station. He had to put some distance between himself and his pursuers. There was excited shouting in Arabic going on above him as neighbors joined the men from the apartment. They would all be armed.

  Chapter 57

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  D an stumbled down the tracks. He kept his .22 in his hand. He heard men coming down the embankment. They would fan out, not knowing which direction Dan went. He knew he could not outrun them in his condition. In addition to his older rib injuries, the shot to his back, while stopped by the vest, had bruised him to the point that he could only take shallow breaths. A deep breath caused his back to spasm and his lungs to empty. No, there would be no running. He just needed to keep moving. Even hidden in the thickets along the embankment, he didn’t stand much of a chance remaining concealed from a thorough search. And if he counter-attacked, he would give away his position to all the others involved in the pursuit.

  For all Dan knew the whole townhouse row was now out looking for him. Word of the shootings and Jabbar’s execution would now be emerging, incensing the crowd above to find the assassin. Dan’s options were limited. He didn’t see any viable way out.

  Then he heard and felt the rumble of a train approaching. It came from his left, heading towards the Gare de Marseille Saint Charles; a passenger train. Dan pushed into the thicket and turned left to watch. The light appeared illuminating the track and some men searching the brush. They were working their way carefully in both directions. Probably got others above watching for any movement. They also would man the overpasses as well, trying to pen him in. He couldn’t make any progress while in the thick brush on the slope, and if he dropped down to the tracks he would be seen.

  He had one chance, which might not work, but presented at least one course of action. Dan lurched out from the brush just before the train reached him and stumbled across the tracks in front of the engine. A shout went out from above but before anyone could fire, the train went by, shielding him from view. He continued across the next set of tracks. As soon as the train was past he would be exposed again. Dan moved towards the station. He had no other options. Climbing out on the far side would just put him back on the streets in what was now an enemy neighborhood. There would be no place to hide up there.

  Then he saw it. Another headlight. A train was coming from the station and heading his way. Would it get to him in time? Dan crouched in the brush on the far side of the tracks. He took a quick inventory of his body. He could move, but it was painful. It was too painful to take deep breaths. He kept breathing in a rapid, shallow manner to avoid throwing his back into a spasm.

  The inbound train finally passed. Dan was exposed. The shouting increased on the other side. Some shots rang out but Dan could tell they hadn’t zeroed in on him. The outbound train approached, the shots came closer to Dan’s position in the brush. If he moved, he’d be spotted and most likely shot. The train rumbled past. It was moving at a jogging pace, still picking up speed.

  Dan waited for ten cars to go by. He studied them as best he could. At the back of each car were rungs attached to the side of the car. There was almost no space between cars but Dan could see rungs on the rear. If he could grab the ones on the side, he could swing around and hold on to the ones in the rear. He didn’t know if he could enter the cars, but he could ride for a short distance if he could find some footing. Dan stuffed his pistol in his pocket; after the tenth car had gone by, he sprang from his cover. Almost holding his breath, he began to run along the side of the tracks. A set of rungs started to slide past him, the train was accelerating, in a moment he would not be able to keep up with it. He reached up and grabbed a handhold with his left hand. With one more thrust of his legs, he swung his body towards the rungs. His feet scrambled to find footing; he reached out with his right hand.

  He was panting with shallow breaths as he worked his way around to the rear of the car. His feet found purchase as he clung to the metal rods forming the ladder rungs. The coupling holding the cars together was next to his feet, the large metal connection moving and swaying as the two cars lurched back and forth. He flattened himself against the back of the car. There was no cover. He knew his pursuers were watching; some of them had probably seen him run for the train. He only hoped the acceleration would keep them from following him onto one of the cars. In the next minute the train was going too fast. They were out of the immediate area. He had escaped the trap.

  Dan had no idea where the trai
n was headed. It was not one of the modern ones used on the Paris-Marseille route. It was older, probably a local that worked its way through the smaller towns. Starting in the morning, it was mostly empty as it headed out. After a few kilometers the train began to slow. What the hell? He was not far enough out of the area to feel safe if the train stopped. His pursuers, if convinced he had jumped the train, would follow it hoping to find him when it stopped. He was not yet safe.

  The train did stop. Dan could see the lights of the freight terminal on the far side of the tracks. A train was backing into the siding, putting together a long string of cars before heading out. Apparently the passenger train had to stop to allow the freight locomotive to switch to the siding.

  Dan eyed the cars. There were piggy-back cars made up of sea containers stacked on rail car frames. At the back of each there was a small platform. Dan could see what looked like a depression. Perhaps he could hide there. He stepped across the coupling and looked to the front and rear. Seeing no one standing on the tracks, he gingerly let himself down and shuffled across the tracks. Dan pushed through the brush separating the main line from the siding. The siding area was lit so he had to be careful. If anyone saw him and caught him, he would be arrested and that would be the end of the game. Any basic police inquiry could link him to the killings, if anyone cared.

  He watched for a minute. The freight locomotive, with fifteen cars already attached to it, backed into the long line of assembled cars. There was now a train of probably fifty or sixty cars. Dan didn’t see anyone along the side of the train. It was twenty yards away. He could hear the passenger train begin to accelerate again. When it had passed the freight locomotive powered up. There was sequential banging as the couplings tightened in a new direction, like a metallic snake uncoiling.

  Dan broke from the cover and ran to the cars. He grabbed one halfway back on the train and clamored up on it. As he had hoped, there was a depression. It wasn’t much, probably only twenty inches deep, but he could lie flat and had a chance of not being seen. The train slowly gathered speed. When the car Dan was riding on rolled out of the yard and onto the main track, it passed out of the lit area. Dan began to relax. He would ride this until far from Marseille and jump off as it slowed. The terrorists and their neighbors would be looking and following the local passenger train. He had escaped.

  Chapter 58

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  D an sat in the safe house with Jane and Evangeline. Marcus and Roland had flown back to the States with Pietro Conti and Jan Luis Aebischer. Evangeline was coming to grips with the fact that political and security considerations had trumped her wishes and her abusive father, who had committed murder, would be allowed to live. Jane had impressed upon her that it would not be a life of ease or influence. He would not be free and would be milked for all the information he had about his dealings with terrorists and those who supplied them. Such information would result in more targets for Dan to go after.

  “I still don’t want his money.” Evangeline said. She remained firm in her decision.

  Jane had not been able to convince her that accepting her inheritance didn’t make her complicit in her mother’s death.

  Dan sat quietly. He was still sore from his injuries, but was recovered enough to restart his routine of running and exercising. It felt good to be out on the back roads, thumping along, eating up the kilometers, his mind refreshed by the passing scenery. Jane and Evangeline enjoyed more relaxing mornings in the kitchen or on the back patio.

  “I’d like to take both of you on a short trip,” Dan said after returning from a morning run. He had showered and dressed and was eating some breakfast while Jane drank her second cup of coffee. Evangeline was sitting close to Dan, as she did every chance she got.

  “Where to?” Jane asked.

  “Let’s drive to Venice. I want to show you something in the city.”

  “I’m not sure we have time. I should be getting back to Washington. Henry will be calling for me before too long.”

  “We have time. It’s important to me.”

  Evangeline had no comment. She would go anywhere with Dan even back to the mansion in Zürich.

  “We can pack up after I eat. We’ll take the embassy Mercedes they loaned you. Just pack some things for an overnight in case we stay too long. It’s only a three-hour drive so we can be back this evening if we want.”

  Three and a half hours later, Dan pulled into the parking garage at the end of the causeway. They walked to the canal and hired a speed boat. Dan told the pilot to take them to Piazza San Marco. Once there they got out and walked the plaza. It was a fresh, fall day the breeze was invigorating, the crowds of summer had thinned. They ate lunch at the outdoor table of one of the restaurants lining the plaza.

  “This is lovely, but what did you want to show us?” Jane asked.

  Dan, as always, was looking around, checking the groups of pedestrians that flowed around them.

  “Just wait. I hope I can show you what we came for,” he replied.

  “What’s the mystery about?” Evangeline asked. “You wouldn’t even give us a hint on the drive.”

  “It’s my surprise,” Dan smiled at her. “I think today may help both of you.”

  He scanned the plaza. On the far side he located the scarf kiosk. He focused on it. The woman was there. She turned, as if compelled by Dan’s stare. Their eyes met. Even across the distance, Dan could feel the connection, the energy.

  “Let’s go, he said, standing up.

  “I’m not finished with my lunch,” Evangeline said.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Dan replied. “This is more important.” He put a fifty Euro note on the table to cover the meals and hurried the two women out onto the plaza.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  He walked over to the stall. The woman held his eyes as he approached.

  “Signora,” Dan said as he reached the kiosk, “If you have time, I would like to talk with you and have you meet these two women with me.”

  The woman turned to her daughter who was standing behind the kiosk. She spoke to her in a language that was not Italian.

  Turning back to Dan, she said. “She will watch the stand while we go to speak. But I already know who these women are.”

  “Then you must know why I want them to meet you and speak with you.”

  The woman nodded. “Follow me,” she said as she turned to go.

  As before, she walked off into one of the small pedestrian side streets. Dan and the women followed. She made two more turns and then stopped at the door to a smaller house.

  “We can talk here without worry about interruptions,” she said as she unlocked the door.

  The four of them entered the home and walked back into the kitchen. They sat at a large table. Jane looked at the woman carefully. She did not look old but Jane could not begin to guess her age, somewhere in the middle part of life. She wore a full skirt and loose shirt. Her thick, dark hair pushed out from under her scarf. It was her eyes that held Jane’s attention. They were black, intense and seemed to look through her when the woman returned her gaze.

  “My name is Palmira. It means ‘pilgrim’ in your language.” She spoke in heavily accented Italian dialect which Jane couldn’t place.

  “You are Jane,” she said. She turned to the girl, “And you are Evangeline.”

  “How do you know who we are?” Evangeline asked. “Did Dan tell you?”

  The woman smiled without replying.

  “I know why Dan brought you here. You are both important…in ways you do not grasp.”

  “And you will enlighten us?” Jane asked.

  The woman looked at Jane. Her eyes seemed to examine the meaning of Jane’s question.

  “If you let me,” she replied.

  Jane waited. Dan had arranged this meeting. There was something he wanted her to gain from it. They hadn’t driven three hours for a casual encounter with a local Venetian scarf vendor.

  “You are the
woman who directs Dan in his battles. I understand he has already told you of his encounters in Mexico and here in Venice. I am that encounter here, a Watcher. But you don’t see the value of us. You are still locked in your rational mind. I understand that is the world you have to live in, to operate in, but it limits you.

  “I hope you will allow your mind to be enlarged even as you have to work with those more shut off to this other part of reality. You will benefit from knowing more, and from using that knowledge.”

  “How will you help me?” Jane asked.

  “I cannot show you the same way Tlayolotl showed Dan. I do not have the Shaman’s power. But you must look back to what Dan told you about his experiences. You say you accept what he says yet I see your mind is still unconvinced. You ignore the obvious.”

  “And what is that?”

  “That Dan is alive. Someone, something saved him from dying, twice as he recounts. What more evidence do you need?” The woman’s eyes began to glow with the intensity of her words.

  Jane didn’t flinch but the argument drilled into her rational mind, creating confusion. Dan’s surviving the journey he spoke of was irrefutable, but his explanation was hard to accept. It created a conflict that Jane could not resolve.

  “Now more recently, I told Dan to accept the job offer he was given by the man, Pietro. Dan understood that I could see more than what was on the surface. You have now seen that he was right. His actions have saved this girl,” she gestured to Evangeline, “And given her a new chance in life. And he exposed the larger darkness I spoke of and broke its power. It may rise up again, but for now it is defeated.”

  “I accept that Dan was correct. And you’re one of the Watchers he talks about. How many of you are there?”