Despite the fact that Dirk hadn’t said so explicitly, Daniel understood that he meant that it wasn’t necessary to kill Paulsen, as he would get his deserved punishment. Surprisingly, Dirk wasn’t done. “Tom was pretty panicked when he called Mark’s place. He was already awake enough again to comprehend what was going on there, and we know what Paulsen was planning to do with you. Regardless of what you decide to do, we—that is, Sven, Stephan, and I—will cover you. Your choice.”
He hadn’t counted on being given carte blanche this way, particularly because he knew that Mark and the German policemen had been in conflict with each other a number of times in the past when the SEAL had ignored German laws. Mark’s return ended Daniel’s search for an appropriate answer; instead he briefly laid a hand on Dirk’s back.
“Problem solved,” Mark said. “Do you have any idea how many there are?”
“Unfortunately only a rough estimate. At least ten, probably more.”
“Great,” Dirk said. “And now?”
“Tom and I work our way over to the outbuilding as quickly as possible. You two blow up one of the vehicles and then greet the men who come to check what’s going on.”
Daniel was familiar with Dirk’s reservations with regard to explosives of any kind and suppressed a grin when the accountant grimaced and nudged Mark. “Your job, Captain. You throw your grenades, and I’ll make sure no one gets too close to us.”
Mark smiled. “Nothing else would ever have occurred to me. Are there other things you want to talk about, or are we finally going to put an end to this shit?”
“The latter. I’m just waiting for Doc to finally get out of here. He was supposed to be taking off—” Smiling, Dirk broke off and evaded Daniel’s mock jab to the ribs when Daniel sprinted away.
Tom stayed close to the seashore as long as possible. It wasn’t until they had drawn level with the outbuilding that they changed direction.
Mark’s voice came from the headphones. “Five seconds.”
Daniel exchanged looks with Tom and increased his speed. Whether this was a result of the painkillers or the adrenaline, the pain seemed to be gone. In its stead, a single thought controlled him: he must free Sandra from Paulsen’s clutches.
“Let’s go in the front.” Tom’s suggestion was drowned out by a loud detonation. Daniel whistled in appreciation. He felt the effects of the blast wave over his entire body, and Tom, too, had difficulty staying on his feet. “God, how much has Mark blown up?” Tom wondered while he kicked the front door off its hinges.
Daniel covered Tom and satisfied himself that the porch and hall ahead of them were empty. “Are you crazy?”
“No, I thought you were in a hurry, and any normal person would run to the back and look around after an explosion.”
Daniel was more interested in a gray box with blinking red LEDs next to the ruined door. “There’s a . . .”
Tom was already levering the box out of the wall with his combat knife. He cut some cables. “You mean there was an alarm system,” Tom said with a smile. “Let’s go. I’ll take point, you cover me.”
Daniel noticed only in passing that the rooms were furnished with functional, expensive materials. In the kitchen, half-empty plates and partially eaten slices of bread indicated that there had been a hectic departure, but up to this point they hadn’t encountered a soul. Daniel stopped, alarmed, when Tom raised a hand in warning. From behind a closed door came the characteristic sound of a toilet being flushed. Pressed against the wall, they waited until the door was opened. Tom jumped forward and sent the man, who was taken utterly by surprise, to the floor with a hook to the chin. Plastic handcuffs and a towel repurposed as a gag ensured that he wouldn’t be able to pose a danger to them. Tom dragged him back into the bathroom by his collar.
“And next time don’t forget to wash your hands. That’s just gross,” Tom told their captive.
When he returned to Daniel, Tom became serious again. He listened tensely; then he pointed along the corridor. “If I remember the sat photo correctly, the hall ends at a room. Probably fairly large, with a view of the sea. And I think I heard voices.”
Other than an indeterminate hissing in his ears, Daniel heard nothing, but he would never have doubted Tom’s judgment. They moved forward silently and froze when they were surrounded by muted light. Tom let his breath out in a hiss. “Motion sensors,” he said and pointed at the lamps.
Daniel nodded and reached the door, which was open a crack, before Tom. He easily recognized Paulsen’s voice, though he couldn’t yet make sense of the staccato sentences. He cautiously looked through the narrow opening and cursed. His relief at seeing Sandra sitting on a chair uninjured disappeared immediately due to the situation she was in. Paulsen was running nervously around the room, constantly pointing a gun at Sandra’s head. Another man was leaning against the windowsill, shifting his attention between the events outside and his boss. A hostage-rescue-mission nightmare.
Daniel shook his head when Tom signaled to him that he should pull back. No matter what, he wouldn’t leave Sandra behind again. He sensed Tom was moving away. “We’re not going to achieve anything this way; we have to . . . ,” Tom began. Daniel switched off the headset. The last thing he needed was an argument.
“What’s going on out there?” Paulsen shouted at Sandra.
Without visible emotion, she returned the angry look. “How should I know? I’d be happy to take a look,” she said.
The man at the window gave her an inscrutable look. “That’s no regular police action. Not even police SEKs proceed like that. It looks like guerrilla warfare out there. Our men are disappearing one by one.” He pushed himself back from the windowsill. “If you ask me, it’s time to leave. Whoever’s out there is out of our league.”
Paulsen didn’t take his eyes off Sandra. “And what am I paying you for? No one’s going to get in here, and the authorities have no proof.”
The man apparently wanted to contradict Paulsen, but then he simply looked out the window again, although little would be visible in the darkness.
“The guy’s right. Give up, Paulsen. My boss knows as much as I do about you and your filthy business. Do you really want to add murder to your multitude of sins? It’s over.”
“Be quiet. Where are your colleagues? I’m interested in one thing only: who Daniel Eddings works for.”
“You could ask me a hundred times, and I’d still say the LKA. He’s a friend of my boss’s and otherwise works for the American tax authorities. And yes, as far as I know, he was in the military. That’s all I know. You do know that child molesters are lower than terrorists in the prison hierarchy, right? I’m already looking forward to you experiencing for yourself what you did to the children and wanted to do to Daniel. I don’t know who’s out there, but one thing’s certain: your time’s running out, you filthy pig.”
Under other circumstances, Daniel would have admired her bravery; now he held his breath in fear as Paulsen’s finger slid nervously back and forth on the trigger. The guy was on the edge of a nervous breakdown, and provoking him could be fatal. Apparently, he didn’t wish to accept that his lucrative business model had failed.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about! I only catered to an existing demand. I have every right to take that which is mine.”
Sandra snorted and lifted her head, and Daniel sensed how much it angered her to have to look up at Paulsen. “Well, you’ve fixed things up for yourself really nicely. What about your own children? Have you also used them to satisfy your demand?”
Daniel’s grip on his machine pistol tightened when it looked as though Paulsen was about to strike Sandra. But then Paulsen took a step back and ran his fingers through his hair. When he looked toward the door, Daniel quickly moved back. It was obviously time either to disappear, which wasn’t an option, or to end this crap.
He didn’t have to turn around to know Tom was boiling directly behind him. “Does anyone have a clear field of fire?” he asked him quiet
ly.
“Negative. Neither Mark nor Dirk will fire as long as Paulsen has his finger on the trigger.”
“Then we’ll just have to figure out a different way.”
“Man, think about what—”
“Stop preaching. You’ll take the second man as soon as he comes out. I’ll deal with Paulsen. And there will be no argument. Understood, Chief?”
Tom’s jaw muscles wriggled. “Do you want me to salute, too? How do you want to—”
Once again, Daniel didn’t let him finish; instead, he whistled and switched his headset back on. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, he would have laughed at Tom’s stunned expression; he was content with a brief wink and pressed closer to the wall.
As expected, Paulsen’s hireling stormed to the door and peered cautiously into the hall. As it appeared to lie empty before him, he came out and hurried past Daniel, weapon ready.
Daniel trusted Tom to deal with the guy and entered the room. Paulsen recovered from the surprise much too quickly. Instead of concentrating on Daniel as Daniel had hoped, he continued to point his weapon at Sandra. Slowly, Daniel walked toward Paulsen, whose nervousness showed signs of potential panic. Daniel didn’t dare to look at Sandra; instead, he kept his gaze directed at Paulsen and managed a grin. When he was standing beside Sandra’s chair and Paulsen had retreated to the desk, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Get out of here. Now.”
Daniel half expected resistance, but Sandra stood up. “Take care,” she said at the same volume and moved backward toward the door.
With one step, Daniel put himself between Paulsen and Sandra.
“Stop. Not another step,” Paulsen said in an agitated voice. When Sandra didn’t react to his demand, he fired two rounds into the doorframe, and she stopped. He laughed. “This is really a surprise. Throw your weapons down; then tell me what’s going on outside. Do it now, or your little girlfriend will have a bullet in her head. I think that will make you talk. Or am I wrong?”
By now the distance between Daniel and Sandra was too great for him to be able to cover her effectively; the weapon’s muzzle once again pointed in her direction. Daniel didn’t like the way Paulsen was frantically looking back and forth between them. He hardly seemed receptive to reason anymore, and either he didn’t realize the significance of the machine pistol that was pointed at him or he was indifferent to it. Daniel had played through some scenarios in his head, but he was becoming uncertain about how he could ensure that Sandra got out of the room uninjured. He wasn’t prepared to risk shooting at Paulsen while there was a danger that he would pull the trigger in a last reflex and seriously injure Sandra. Daniel spoke in a calming voice. “It’s over, Paulsen. We have access to your server and know the names of all of your clients. Just give up. No one else needs to get hurt here.”
Paulsen’s right eyelid began to flicker, a further symptom of an imminent nervous breakdown. “Who are you? Where did all that equipment come from? I don’t understand. I thought I’d gotten you.”
Daniel heard a clicking from the headphones and Mark’s calm voice. “Distract him. At my command, dive to the right. Tom will take care of Sandra.”
What did his boss think he had been trying to do the whole time? He didn’t have many more ideas with regard to how he could distract Paulsen from Sandra; there was really only one way out, though it was doubtful this was what Mark had in mind. He slowly lowered the machine pistol. “All right. For the time being, you’ve won. But this is between us. Let my colleague go.” He took a step in Paulsen’s direction and threw the machine pistol on the floor. With his hands to either side of his body, he smiled. “Satisfied? Calm down. We’ll find a solution.”
Paulsen turned the pistol on Daniel’s upper body, which was protected by the vest. What was Mark waiting for? They wouldn’t get a better chance. When, contrary to his expectations, no voice came from the headphones, Daniel ground his teeth. “How did you slide into this shit? Even if you like both men and women, that’s not a problem these days. You could have been the foreign minister or a candidate for the chancellorship.”
“Were you in Kosovo, Mr. Eddings?”
Daniel didn’t know what to make of Paulsen’s sudden formality—nor did he know what to make of his team leader’s hesitation. Paulsen’s gun hand was now jerking uncontrollably, but it must have been clear to Mark that Daniel would take any risk to save Sandra. Daniel nodded. “I was. Why?”
“There I learned that the combination of money and strength is unbeatable.” Paulsen breathed out with a hissing sound. “You have no idea how a father’s demands can ruin one’s life. But I found my way. Today everything fits. What I’ve built, no one will take from me.” Paulsen’s breathing was ragged, and his face had turned an unhealthy red. “I envied you—more than envied you, perhaps. No matter how successful I’ve become, I have never laughed in such a carefree way. Perhaps there were some moments with my children that came close to what appears to be normal for you. Who the hell are you, Daniel Eddings? My nemesis? Why are you not dead? Doctor? Police? Military? Money seems to be nothing to you. I just don’t understand.”
“There are some things I can’t accept. Abuse of children is one of them.”
“Nemesis, then,” Paulsen said.
Finally, Mark spoke to Daniel on the headset, and the team leader’s tone was enough to make Daniel vibrate with tension. “Paulsen’s using AP ammunition. You cannot—”
For the second time that evening, Daniel switched off the headset; Paulsen watched, surprised. “I don’t wish to be disturbed,” Daniel casually said while his thoughts raced. If Paulsen’s magazine was in fact loaded with armor-piercing ammunition, their protective vests were useless. They had been unbelievably lucky that it hadn’t been Paulsen but one of his men who had fired at Tom. But now the situation was different. He would neither accept Tom risking his life to protect Sandra nor allow Paulsen to dictate the events a minute longer. It was time to end this—on his terms.
With a bitter smile, Daniel turned to Sandra. Much between them had remained unsaid. Her mouth opened, but he was already spinning around and hurling himself at Paulsen. The edge of his hand struck Paulsen’s throat. They fell to the floor together. As if from a great distance, Daniel heard the dull boom of a shot; then a coldness that made him shiver spread through his limbs. His vision blurred; confused thought fragments sped by.
“Damn it, Doc. Are you . . .” Mark’s voice penetrated the fog briefly before the darkness deepened. The anger of his team leader was the least of his worries.
He was gently turned onto his back, and hands tugged at his clothing. He tried to formulate a word but failed. However, Tom gave him the answers he urgently needed. “Sandra’s all right. Not a scratch. You got Paulsen. He’s alive and in handcuffs. Take it easy, Daniel. Save your strength and fight, you damned idiot. Couldn’t you have waited a few more seconds? I could have . . .” The last words faded like a distant echo. Pounding pains cascaded through him. He desperately fought the darkness; it was only when his vision focused once more and he saw Sandra’s face that he gave in. Finally, the cold and pain faded.
CHAPTER 35
Too much had happened to Sandra in the last few minutes. Since Daniel had jumped in the water, she had hoped he had gotten away; in Ahrensburg she had seen what the SEALs were capable of underwater. Only this thought had given her the strength to master her fear and defy Paulsen. When an explosion had subsequently caused Paulsen to become increasingly agitated and Daniel had entered the room shortly thereafter, she had hoped for a quick end, but then everything had gone differently. The bitterness of his smile had ignited a fear in her that had eclipsed everything that had happened that day. She had instinctively sensed that his next act would be suicidal. Her worst fears were realized when he fell to the floor and didn’t get up.
Although Mark and Tom’s movements were calm and controlled, she easily perceived their tension. None of their casual comments provided a distraction. She would have preferred to have
clung to Daniel and protected him even from the touch of his friends, but as a policewoman she had learned not to be in the way of the rescue workers.
“I just can’t get the bleeding stopped,” she heard Tom say, his desperation unmistakable.
“Keep trying. Don’t give up,” Mark said, and she heard fear in his voice. A moment later, he cursed. “Breathing stopped. Dirk, help.”
It wasn’t until Dirk let her go and knelt next to Daniel that she noticed he had been holding her. Panicked, she watched Dirk begin mouth-to-mouth resuscitation while Mark took over the chest compressions and Tom continued to try to stop the bleeding. She was condemned to helpless inactivity, and a rage filled her that she had never before experienced. She literally saw red when she ran to Paulsen and dragged him away. She couldn’t stand the sight of him watching the struggle for Daniel’s life. She effortlessly dragged him toward the door and at the same time picked up Daniel’s gun.
When Paulsen began to complain about his treatment, Sandra pressed the muzzle of the weapon deep into the soft tissue under his chin. “I don’t want to hear a sound out of you. You’re under arrest, and if you give me the slightest reason, I’ll kill you. Any court in the world would find in my favor. So keep your mouth shut, and pray that Daniel survives. Otherwise you and I will settle our accounts very personally.”
A helicopter landed on the roof. She transferred Paulsen to a policeman she didn’t know but whose grim expression she liked. Again her training got the upper hand; she needed to concentrate on what was most important and see to it that Daniel got the best medical care. She noticed only peripherally that she ran past men in the hall whom she knew well. She ignored Stephan and the others; she was interested only in saving Daniel.
The rotor blades were still turning when the helicopter door opened. She signaled to the emergency doctor that he should follow her. When this didn’t happen quickly enough, she ran over to the doctor and pulled him along with her by the sleeve. “Gunshot wound in the stomach. Pulse and breathing unstable. Heavy blood loss,” she said in an agitated voice while they raced down the corridor toward Daniel.
Nemesis: Innocence Sold Page 42
