by Trevor Scott
The woman and man looked around the room for someone else.
Jake explained. “You’re being covered by a rifle from outside right now. Who the fuck are you?”
The woman let out a deep sigh. “Alexandra Schecht. BND.”
Somewhat confused, Jake said, “German Federal Intelligence Service. And I use that term lightly. I thought they gutted the Bundesnachrichtendienst.”
“Not completely.” She pulled her silenced gun from her jacket and threw the Uzi to the bed. “It’s out of bullets.”
“Wait a minute,” Jake said. He opened the door a little, saw a man trying to walk down the hall, and Jake shot twice at him, making him go back down the stairs. “Any relation to Gunter Schecht? Former BND.”
Hesitantly, she said, “He was my uncle.”
Shit. Jake had killed the man years ago on a case.
“I know you killed him,” she said. “I know all about you.”
Jake considered raising his gun on her again. “And?”
“You had no choice,” she said. “My uncle Gunter had become a rogue, working for some bad people.”
He swung the door open and shot again.
“He was a good man at one time,” Jake said. “We had worked together in Munich. Something changed in him.”
She nodded her head. “Let’s find our way out of here. How many do you have with you?”
“Two out front and one covering us from the back.” Jake went onto his mic and described the man and woman with him, so they wouldn’t shoot them. Then he said to Alexandra, “Who’s this guy?”
Altenstein started telling Jake his life story and Jake stopped him. “All right. You’re the nano scientist. I get it.” He turned to Alexandra. “Do you know where they’re keeping Albrecht?”
“He’s two doors down on the left,” she said. “But they’ve got him locked in there.”
“I’ll take care of that while you keep them busy.”
She nodded and took Jake’s place at the door.
Jake slid a new clip into his gun and then ran out into the hallway firing at the stairs. The men there scooted back. With one fluid motion, Jake ran and smashed his shoulder into the door. The lock gave at the frame and crashed inward, taking Jake with it. He landed on the floor and dropped his gun for a moment, the gun a few feet from his hand.
Looking up, Jake saw Albrecht in the middle of the room. Standing behind him was Viktor Kopari, the concierge from Budapest, a gun pointing at Albrecht’s head.
“I thought that might be you,” Kopari said. His left pinky was wrapped in a small cast.
“How’s your finger and nipple,” Jake asked, his own fingers digging into a Persian rug and wanting to go for the gun.
Gunfire sounded out in the hallway. First a few loud shots and then the coughs from Alexandra’s silenced HK.
Kopari wagged his little finger. “Made it quite hard to play hockey earlier today. Didn’t want to fit in my glove. But I shoot with my right hand.”
Jake wasn’t sure if he meant in hockey or with the gun. “So now what?”
“Now we wait,” Kopari said. “We wait until our men kill anyone who came here with you.”
“I’m sure Hermann Conrad would like to talk with me,” Jake said, buying time. He noticed the room was lit better than the master suite. “Okay. Looks like Herr Albrecht might be sick. He needs to put his head between his legs.”
Albrecht seemed to understand, and he slipped with all his weight to the floor.
The bullet plinked through the window and entered Kopari at the base of the neck. Kopari dropped down onto Albrecht, his hands and body like a bag of dead fish, the man’s gun bouncing on the rug.
Jake picked up his pistol, and then rushed and kicked Kopari’s gun to the side.
More shooting in the hallway and out front.
“I aimed for the center of his back,” Anna said in the headset. “But he slumped down. Where did I hit?”
Checking the man’s pulse, Jake lied, “I think he’ll live. Not likely to play hockey again, though. We’re going back to the master suite. I’ll hold out there for a while.” He opened the door a crack and glanced down toward the master suite, seeing Alexandra there at the door.
Jake shoved Albrecht out the door and he ran as Jake and Alexandra fired down the hall from both locations. Then Jake backed down the hall shooting until he got into the master suite, slamming the door behind him. He changed out a fresh magazine.
Bullets pelted the thick door.
“Now what?” Alexandra asked Jake.
“Now we wait for a moment.”
They both heard the helicopter at the same time.
●
Toni was behind a low brick wall below a light that she had shot out. Kurt was across the main walk from her, also behind an identical brick section.
She looked up and saw the helicopter, a spotlight scanning the yard and settling on her for a second before doing the same to Kurt.
“Turn off that damn light,” Toni yelled.
“Who is that?” Kurt said and then took a couple shots at the front door.
The light went out and Toni saw the Austrian Army symbol on the side of the helicopter.
Over a loud speaker a man’s voice said, “Put down your weapons. Austrian State Police.”
Great. Just fucking great.
26
Hermann Conrad had just opened up a closet on the first floor, lined with Steyr assault rifles and compact HK MP5 fully-automatic military carbines. He had just passed them out to the faithful and put them in position when he heard the helicopter above.
“Now what?” he said to Miko.
Miko shrugged. “My guess would be Staatpolizei.”
That made no sense to Conrad. “They have no cause.”
“They’re pissed off about losing at hockey today.”
Conrad ignored him. “What’s going on upstairs?”
“One man. I’m guessing Jake Adams. But there’s another shooter.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Jiri’s missing. So is Kopari. I’m guessing both are dead.”
“Anyone else?”
“One of our local security men was shot in the back garden. He had been shooting at Adams.” He hesitated for a second. “And Grago is missing. I think Adams took him out.”
“Damn it. What about Alexandra?” Conrad was in deep thought waiting for an answer.
“Sir, we think she’s the second shooter upstairs.”
Could this be true? The woman who he brought out of poverty? How could she betray him? His mind shifted gears, thinking now only about his survival and the security of his plan. There had to be a way out of this. “Grab a rifle and come with me,” Conrad finally said.
●
Someone cut the power.
“Cover us coming down the drain,” Jake said to Anna on the headset.
“Gotcha.”
From the master suite a few moments ago, Jake had seen the helicopter out front—a Staatpolizei chopper—and then a line of cars hurrying up the only road to the castle. He knew the place would become even more of a shooting gallery soon. He had to get these three outside.
On the balcony, Jake first helped Albrecht grasp onto the drain pipe and slide down. Then Altenstein followed him to the snowy surface below. He had informed them to wait for Alexandra and they waited down there now for her.
“They can make it out themselves,” Alexandra said. “I should go with you.”
“No. Please go with them.”
“What about you?”
Jake looked back to the master suite. He was stuck there unless he could come up with a plan. Then it came to him. He sent Alexandra down the pipe and he followed right after her.
When they got to the ground, Jake sent them around to the hill where Anna sat. They could wait there with her on the high ground. Once they were gone, Jake moved along the edge of the castle and smashed in a window. He crawled into the darkness and waited a moment, putting on his
NVGs. He was in a library, the walls lined with old leather-bound books from floor to ceiling. Think, Jake. Remember the floor plans from the computer. Where would he go if he wanted to get away? Shit. Of course.
He flipped his NVGs away from his eyes and made sure his gun was loaded with a full 15-round clip. Then he looked out the door to the first-floor hallway.
Nobody there.
Stepping out lightly, he slid along one wall. The power out, only a few candles lit his way. As he reached the foyer, the staircase ahead to his right, he stopped when he saw two dark figures sweep along through the darkness, rifles in their hands.
The intensity of rounds firing from the front of the building was far greater now. Automatic salvos. They had upgraded from handguns, Jake thought. Great.
Looking around a corner, Jake went after the two men who had passed toward the kitchen.
“Jake. You there?” Anna’s words through his headset. He stopped dead in his tracks and then keyed his mic twice, meaning he couldn’t talk. “I have Albrecht, Altenstein, and Alexandra with me. We’ll hold our position.”
Outstanding, he thought. Hopefully Anna would also keep her gun ready.
It was darker now toward the kitchen, so Jake pulled down the NVGs again. The kitchen was empty. Feeling safe to whisper, Jake said into his mic, “In the kitchen. Going under.”
He thought about the door leading to the back garden, but didn’t think Conrad would take that one, not knowing who would be there waiting for him. Instead, Jake went to the door on the other side of the kitchen. The one that lead to the wine cellar. It had been that during the monastery days, as a ski hotel, and Jake imagined it still held wine.
The stone stairs leading down were slick from the cool dampness. Maybe too cold and wet for wine, he thought. At the bottom of the stairs he suddenly felt a flush of air across his face. He had to move now. They were already outside.
NVGs on his head, he ran through the wine racks to a back corner, through an open thick wood door and then down a couple more steps and through a low tunnel.
The tunnel had been built during the Second World War, when the place had been occupied first by the Nazis and then by a group of resistance fighters. Both had thought it necessary to have an escape plan. And now Conrad had done the same.
There was a dim light ahead. Moonlight on snow, Jake thought. If his guess was right, he would end up some one hundred meters to the north of the castle in a group of pines grown to hide the entrance.
Cautiously, his gun in front, he moved through the metal door. Bullets immediately plinked off the door to his left.
Jake dove to the snow and fired twice at nothing. Just the sound. He waited, his gun and part of his head the only thing above the snow. The scene was an eerie green from the NVGs.
Nature was on Jake’s side. Clouds swirling overhead temporarily blocked the moon. Move now.
Jake jumped to his feet and in a low run, hurtled himself into a group of low pines, the only cover close. Now he had the advantage with the NVGs.
There. Movement across a small open area. Man with a rifle. Jake shot three times and waited.
The first bullet from the rifle smashed a tree branch next to Jake’s head. The second and third whizzed over his head after he ducked down.
“Hey, Jake,” came a voice from across the small opening. “We missed you at the Donau Bar. You’re a crafty one, I’ll give you that.”
Jake keyed his mic and then yelled, “Miko Krupjak. So your boss left you and the other Brothers to stay behind and clean up his mess.”
Miko laughed out loud, his voice echoing through the forest. “You are a funny man, Adams. We all serve at someone’s pleasure. Even you.”
It was hard to pinpoint the location of the man from his voice. Jake could shoot all night and not hit a damn thing. Play the game.
“I work for myself,” Jake assured him. Then he rose slowly and moved ten meters to his right, behind a large pine.
“You work for that fake,” Miko said. “The old grand master.”
Jake looked up at the clouds. They might hold for a few more minutes. No more. He turned his head toward his last position and said, “Looks like your New grand master is the fake. Leaving you like this.”
Bullets struck his old position but Jake was ready, firing his gun five times at the muzzle flashes.
Silence.
He was sure he had heard the thud of bullet on flesh, a distinct sound like no other.
Jake waited for ten minutes, listening carefully to the sounds of gunfire from the castle behind him. Looking up, the clouds had opened and closed a couple of times. Now, a big bank of swirling clouds darkened the night again. Stepping lightly through the snow, Jake crept along, trees his cover, toward the spot he had fired at moments ago. Ahead he saw a body laying flat on its back, a rifle still in the man’s right hand.
As he got closer, Jake took off the NVGs and pulled out his small flashlight. Miko lay in front of him, two blood spots on his chest and one on his forehead. For a microsecond, Jake wondered where his other two shots had hit. Running the flashlight through the snow, Jake saw where a man, Conrad, had run off toward the north.
Jake sat down in the snow and took a breath. He would have to go after Conrad, but the guy would be easy to follow, his tracks no problem to follow.
Then something occurred to Jake. The forest was quiet. No shooting. Not even a helicopter any more.
“What’s going on?” Jake said into the mic.
Nothing.
“Hey,” Jake said. “Anyone out there?”
“Are you all right?” It was Anna.
“Yeah, but Conrad is still on the loose. I got Miko, though. Did the men give up?”
“I’m still on the mountain,” she said. “No word from Toni or Kurt.”
That wasn’t a good sign.
Anna continued, “The polizei are taking the men into custody right now. Should we go down there?”
“No. Stay out of it.”
“The voice from the helicopter,” she said. “It was Franz Martini.”
He had been in the castle at the time, so he didn’t hear that. “That changes everything. You should bring them down then.”
“Super.”
A fresh clip in his gun, Jake moved off after Conrad, following the man’s footprints in the snow. The tracks turned east toward the town of St. Johann. Moving along, stepping in Conrad’s footsteps, Jake tried to figure out how much of a lead the man had on him. Fifteen minutes? Maybe more. He soon came to the first city street and immediately lost the tracks on the hard-packed snow. Even with a good guess, Jake would not find the man here. He was sure of that.
Jake holstered his gun and started back toward the castle—this time walking the road until he reached the first polizei cordon.
“What’s going on up there?” Jake asked one of the uniformed officers, a man with a bruised right eye.
“We think it was a major drug bust,” the polizei man said.
“Hope they got ‘em,” Jake said. “Drugs are killing Europe.”
The polizei man agreed with a nod.
“Could I talk with Franz Martini,” Jake asked the man.
He looked shocked that Jake would know Martini and even more so that he knew Martini was on the scene. But he handed Jake a hand-held radio.
“How are things at the castle, Franz?” Jake asked, turning his back to the polizei.
“Jake? I thought you might still be inside. Where are you?”
“Out on the road with your men,” he said. “I followed Conrad into town and lost him. You might want to cover the airport and set up some road blocks.”
Jake heard Martini barking orders in the background to his men. Then he said to Jake, “Anna is fine. She has Albrecht, Altenstein and Alexandra with her. You know this other woman works for German Intel?”
“Yeah, we’ve met. Thank her for me. She covered my ass in there.” Jake explained what had happened with Conrad and Miko escaping through the tunnel a
nd how Miko would need a body bag.
“We’ll take care of him,” Martini said. He hesitated. “Jake. One of the people out front, one of the two Agency officers. . .took a bullet.”
Jake’s mind reeled. “Which one?”
“The man. The one who was with you at the warehouse.”
“Will he be all right?”
“No. I’m sorry, Jake.”
He thanked Martini and then handed the set back to the uniformed polizei. Jake sat on the side of the road and thought about his good friend, Kurt Lamar. It was a loss that would be hard to comprehend.
●
A little later Jake was allowed back up to Conrad’s castle. Toni was talking with Franz Martini, but Jake went instead to the body covered with a blanket. He stooped down and slowly uncovered the blanket from Kurt’s head. A bullet had ripped through most of his neck and another had entered his face halfway down his nose. Imagining the back of his head was probably gone, Jake threw the blanket back and rose, his feet unsteady and his head swirling.
An arm came around his side, and Jake turned to Toni at his side.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” she said. “We were fine until they pulled out the automatic rifles. It all happened so fast.”
He could see she had been crying and he put his arm around her. “I’m sorry too. I should have left Conrad and come down to help you from inside.”
She shook her head. “Then you’d be dead also.”
He lowered his chin to his chest. He felt dead now himself.
“This was his job,” she said. “He knew what he was getting into.”
Jake wanted to ask her why she refused to work with him directly. Why she had been so reluctant to help him. Why she had been so damn stubborn. Maybe he was looking for someone to blame, but then he realized that Toni was not that person. He couldn’t blame her any more than he could blame himself. That’s the only way he could continue to do what he did for a living. And maybe even that should change, he thought. Europe had changed and he didn’t like the direction in which it was heading.
He left Toni there and drifted over to the back of an ambulance, where Anna stood with Albrecht and Altenstein. Albrecht was sitting on the back end with an oxygen mask over his face. All of the skis and rifles lay on the ground next to the rig.
