“I know that Frank, and you’re right. But think of those thousands who had families spread out all over the world. Many of those descendants and children will now be dead of natural causes, and those that are still alive, how do they cope when their Parents suddenly re-appear? How would you like to meet your Mother again, especially if she was younger than you?”
They were both silent for a while. Then Frank sighed, then smiled ruefully.
“Well it’s all too late Madam President, if our Captain Reed gets through, nothing we can do will stop it now.”
• • •
The tyres screamed as she threw the wheel to the left, the car went sideways around the corner. Piper glanced in her rear-view mirror, three squad cars, lights flashing, sirens blaring were roaring down the road towards her. Accelerating, she wove in and out of the other cars on the narrow road, the drivers, their faces contorted with anger and fear, swerved dangerously as they tried to avoid her.
Piper slipped the gear box into sport mode as she jumped the lights and took a tyre screaming right turn. She hit the brakes hard, accelerated, then braked again, slewing sideways into a parked car. Her front right wing began to drag along the road in a shower of white sparks. Eventually, it snapped off and bounced end over end down the road behind her, until it finally smashed into the windscreen of one of her pursuers.
She took another sharp right, glancing down at the Sat-Nav that she’d jammed into a cup well. This was the right area of Berlin, just slightly south of the Airport. The car needed ditching, on foot and in the shadows, she would be quicker, but it would mean taking a lot more risks. The two men in the trunk of the car had served their purpose and given her protection, the police hadn’t fired a shot. But out there on the street she knew that she would become a prime target, it would be shoot first, ask questions later.
Suddenly, a police car shot out of a side street, slamming into the rear side of the BMW. The car summersaulted through the air, Piper inside, holding on for dear life. Pedestrians ran screaming for cover as it slammed, passenger side down, onto the pavement, smashing into a hairdresser, showering plate glass everywhere. The impact threw the car back onto four wheels, the nearside back door snapped off completely, spinning like a Frisbee across the tarmac. Reversing hard into a parked car, Piper gunned the engine, racing off in a cloud of smoke and squealing tyres, she was still in control.
Breasting the next hill, with all four wheels in the air, she caught sight of the police, falling over themselves, as they tried to lay stingers across the road. Piper’s entourage was now four screaming police cars, what had she to lose? With gritted teeth, she hurtled over the steel spikes, ripping her tyres to shreds. The cars behind her could see what was coming but couldn’t stop, they too hit the stingers at top speed. Two of the cars following her span out of control as their tyres burst, colliding with each other in the middle of the road, petrol tanks exploding on impact.
Piper could see a lorry coming towards her on the other side of the road, she dragged the unresponsive steering wheel to the left, cutting across the front of the juggernaut. Her wheelrims were digging out chunks out of tarmac, slivers of rubber flying into the air, as she willed the ruined car into a side road. The lorry, air brakes jammed on full and horn booming, missed her by inches as it jack-knifed across the road. The two remaining police cars, following in hot pursuit, overshot the turning and slammed full tilt into the side of the lorry, their sirens dying on impact.
In the sudden stillness, Piper took the opportunity to look around her, there was the blinking neon of an underground car park on the right, close by. With no sign of any pursuit, Piper nursed the wrecked car through the entrance and into the darkness beyond.
• • •
Ernst was at the vending machine in the office hallway, buying chocolate, when Gunter caught up with him.
“They’ve found the squad car sir,” he paused, waiting for a reply, when none was forthcoming, he followed Ernst back to his office, “she dumped it in the Seidelbreaken area, in an underground car park, quite near the airport.”
“What about our two men?”
“Pretty shaken up and they’re both suffering from a severe case of bruised ego, but apart from that, they’re both ok.”
Ernst slumped down at his desk and rested his head in his hands, groaning. He could tell it was going to be a long day.
“Right Gunter,” he said without looking up, “I want the Airport put on full alert and a SWAT team assigned, Tegal is almost certainly her target. Get as many police as we can, up there and on the streets. We need to do some proper police work, go door to door, you never know we might get lucky. If anyone does get near her and she shows the slightest resistance, I want her taken out. I can’t stress just how dangerous this situation is Gunter. God knows what her actual target is, but if she gets through, hundreds could die.”
“Ok Boss, anything else?”
“Yes, there is. I’m just going upstairs to run all this past the Commander. Then I want a car bringing around the front in about half an hour. You and I are going out there on the streets.”
• • •
Tom Steeler, pushed his old bike around the corner, weaving in and out of the rush hour pedestrians that streamed past him, finally, he reached the run down, red bricked tenement that he called home. He was English, born in Canterbury, where he’d lived with his parents until 2018. In the summer of that year, his Mother and Father were both killed in a bus crash whilst on holiday in the French Riviera. Tom, who had been out of work for five months was distraught at the death of his parents, especially that of his mother, who dominated and controlled him. Unfortunately, his parents left him nothing, only debts, so he sold everything he could, paid everybody off, packed a rucksack and set off to explore Europe, three months later he ended up penniless in Berlin.
It was nine in the morning and the sun was shining, but already, he could feel the debilitating depression wrapping itself around him like a well-worn shawl, it was always there, like an old friend, waiting on the door step to welcome him home. His arms suddenly felt heavy and tired as he pushed his bike up the three well worn, stone steps and into the dark lobby. Tom was now in his mid-twenties and worked nights as a porter at the local hospital, last night, he’d had a particularly busy shift. Everybody had been talking about an incident in the area, the rumour mill had been working overtime, the word on the street was that there were terrorists at large. He’d heard the Police sirens since early morning, followed by a line of Ambulances delivering the injured and mostly walking wounded.
He suddenly felt weary, he had very little appetite these days, but looked forward to a few glasses of wine. The stale smell of boiled cabbage wafted down the broad stone staircase that ran up the middle of the building. He wore a chain and padlock like bandolier across his chest and was pulling it off as he manoeuvred his bike towards the gloom behind the staircase. Some of the other tenants were on their way to work, the women’s high heels echoing in the hall as they ran down the steps. He tried to rest his bike against the rear wall, but something moved in the dark. Startled, he took a step backwards, his heart beating a little faster.
“Who’s there?” He whispered, thinking to himself, “why am I whispering?”
“Me,” Piper replied, stepping out into the light, finger on her lips, miming for him to speak quietly. She winked, her face deadpan.
“Who are you?”
Much to his embarrassment, he heard his voice rising in tone, becoming squeaky. Meeting an attractive young woman was a rarity for Tom, he took another step back, his face blushing deep red.
“Your English, aren’t you?” Said Piper in perfect German, ignoring his question, still lingering in the shadows.
“Yes, I am,” he replied, in his Mother tongue, trying to sound a little more assertive, “you still haven’t told me why you’re hanging around in the dark?”
Piper replied in English.
“Well,” she drew the word out, thinking quickly.
Her original plan had been to rent a room near the Airport and to lie low until evening. Because of her run in with the Police, she realised that caution must be the watchword, so for now, any ideas of renting a room were just too dangerous to consider. She had no doubt that her picture would be all over the media, she needed to get off the street quickly and lie low until it was dark. This shy young Englishman looked like he might be her only chance.
“Your right,” she continued, stepping forward so that she could look Tom directly in his eyes, “I do owe you an explanation, I’m trying to hide and I’m obviously not very good at it.”
She hesitated, lowering her eyes to look both sincere and embarrassed, all at the same time,
“It’s my husband,” she said, quietly “I’ve left him and I know that he’s out there looking for me. I’m sorry to burden you with all this, I’m sure that you’ve got problems of your own, but I just couldn’t stand the violence any longer, the last thing he told me, was that if I ever ran away again, he’d kill me.”
She raised her eyes to meet his, disappointed with herself that she couldn’t raise a tear.
“Could I just stand here for a while,” she pleaded, wringing her handkerchief in her hands, “it’s the only place that I feel safe? I won’t bother anyone, I’ll try to keep hidden away in the shadows.”
“Hey, your American,” he said, in a tone that made it sound like it was something to be pleased about.
She nodded in assent.
“You say that your Husband’s violent towards you?” said Tom, the tone of his voice was rising again. His eyes kept flicking nervously towards the Street.
“Very,” replied Piper, eyes downcast, hands clasped in front of her.
Tom drew a long shuddering breath. He’d been a much loved, only child with doting parents, an environment that gravitated him towards his over indulgent, mother, who had bound him to her side with gifts and indulgences. His father harboured a passion for a quiet life filled exclusively with classical music and therefore found it much more convenient to condone his wife’s behaviour rather than confront it.
Tom was weak and spineless by the time he reached his early teens, he was also cunning and lazy, he’d learnt that the easy way to get what he wanted in life was to ingratiate himself with his mother and to undergo stomach cringing rituals of humiliation. She loved taking her perfect son on shopping trips up into the city, she targeted Department stores, they were the best places for her to practice her craft. They usually had plenty of staff, so there was always at least one that she could ‘button hole’, standing in the changing room and blushing scarlet as he tried on his new clothes, he would listen to her brag about him, telling some poor shop assistant about her son’s good manners, or what a charming boy he’d turned out to be and how handsome he’d become. Then the final ignominy came when she launched into one of her many anecdotes of the hilarious things that they did together in restaurants and shops.
So, by the time he reached his late teens, the ‘Die was cast’, the ‘seed had been sown’. His Mother’s behaviour had conditioned him so much that he always found himself attracted to women with strong personalities. Accepting that he would always be the underdog in any rapport that developed between them and that his humiliation would always play a big part in any ongoing relationship.
“Look,” he hesitated, Piper thought he seemed to be considering his options, but the truth was, he was in absolute turmoil, suffering from his usual, tongue paralyzing, shyness and a sense of foreboding.
“I don’t even know your name?” He suddenly blurted, relieved that he’d managed to say something that made sense.
“Piper.” She replied promptly.
“Piper,” he seemed to savour the name, “I don’t think it’s safe for you here in the shadows, if you want to, you can come up to my place for a while. Perhaps a warm drink and a sit down might do you some good?”
“I don’t know,” said Piper, trying to hide the smile that played around the corners of her mouth, “you’re a total stranger, then there’s your wife or girlfriend? What are they going say, I don’t think they’ll like you bringing some strange woman home, will they?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t have a wife or girlfriend.”
He broke off, already blushing, knowing what a pathetic impression he was making on this exciting, attractive young woman. When at work, he tried to keep to himself, but his shyness was legendary and the nurses exploited his embarrassment, giggling about him behind his back.
Clearing his throat and feeling awkward, he continued.
“What I’m trying to say is that I don’t have anybody at the moment. It’s not that I’ve never had any….,” his voice trailed off, then in almost complete desperation, he began again
“Look, what I’m trying to say is, what choice do you have? You can’t stay here, there’s a lot of crime in this area and people will complain if they see you. So, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go back out there,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “or perhaps, maybe you could trust me.”
“Ok then, if you’re sure,” said Piper, trying to appear nervous, “lead the way.”
• • •
“Jesus Christ, what’s going on?” Said Gunter, shaking his head in dis-belief as he turned off the news on the car radio.
Ernst stopped the car at the kerb and pulled on the hand break, He enjoyed driving, it helped him to relax and was a distraction from more pressing matters.
“I know what you mean,” he said, picking up on Gunter’s anxiety, “the picture that they’re painting is pretty grim, as things stand I can’t see how we can avoid limited war. Russia seems hell bent on some form of confrontation.”
“The British and French are very quiet,” said Gunter, “that really frightens me Sir. Surely, they wouldn’t go for the nuclear option, would they? If they do, then that means that we’ve all had it.”
“Nah, they won’t do that,” said Ernst, trying to sound more confident than he felt,” that would be the end of everything and nobody in their right mind wants that, do they? Ask yourself, what would be the point of that? Don’t you worry Gunter, they’ll pull back from this madness and start talking again. Just wait until tomorrow, you’ll see, everything will be different again.”
He turned off the engine and climbed out of the car, Gunter joined him. They were in an older part of the city, tenements and areas of concrete high rise, the place was teeming with cheap flats, apartments and Hotel rooms. This was where the poor and the dispossessed lived, when you fell through the Social Security net, this was the place where you landed. It had become the most multicultural and ethnically diverse place in the whole of Western Europe.
“That terrorist bitch is round here somewhere,” said Ernst, breaking the silence, “she dumped what was left of the car in the next street. I’m pretty sure she’ll try and keep her head down now and try and disappear off our radar, so, I can’t see her going far in broad daylight. From the picture that I’ve built of her so far, I have the feeling that she’s a slick operator, well trained and ruthless, she’ll know that we’ve circulated pictures of her by now, so she’ll lie low for a while.”
A plane roared low overhead, it’s lights blinking as it came in to land at the nearby Airport.
“Your right Boss, couldn’t agree more,” said Gunter, “I would bet money that she’s in one of those apartment blocks over there,” he pointed across the street, “this is Bed-sit city round here, she can just about take her pick. There’s always the outside chance that she’s broken in to an empty one, or perhaps taken a hostage, who knows?”
“That’s all we need,” said Ernst, shaking his head,” we haven’t got the manpower for a hostage situation. Everyone we’ve got is out here on the streets looking for her.” He burped and put a hand over his stomach, “my indigestion is killing me, I’ve got a really bad feeling about this one Gunter. If we don’t catch or kill this woman soon, then something really terrible is going to happen.�
�
“I say we check out that Tenement over there, Sir, the one covered in Graffiti, it’s better than just standing around here doing nothing.”
“Why not Gunter? Might as well, best that you call it in first, see if anyone’s been through here yet.”
CHAPTER 8
The Tenement block had been built in the early 50s, just after the war, money had been scarce and elevators expensive. Therefore, three flights of stairs later, Piper stood in a gloomy corridor outside of a blue door with a number 15 painted on it. The door was sticking, Tom helped it open with his shoulder, then ushered her into the musty little room that was his apartment.
It was in fact, bigger than she’d expected and basically comprised of an oblong partitioned into three spaces. Bedroom, shower room and living room, to the left as you came through the door was a tiny L shaped kitchen, three base units and three wall units. Next was small TV fastened to the wall, followed by an ancient sash window that looked out on to the street below and incorporated a damp patch under the sill. In the middle of the room was an early sixties kitchen table, with black screw in legs and a pitted, yellow, formica top, complemented with two matching, curved plywood chairs. Pushed against the wall facing the widow, was an old, overstuffed, plum coloured settee, decked with three green satin cushions.
For just a moment, Piper felt herself whisked back to her childhood, holding her mother’s hand and hiding behind her skirts as they moved into yet another flop. One step ahead of the bailiffs and debt collectors, no food, but two bottles of cheap gin, rattling in the cloth bag her mother made her carry.
“Bye the way,” he said, throwing his duffle bag, onto the kitchen worktop, “Steeler’s the name, Tom Steeler,” he held out his hand smiling,
His light brown hair was straight and lank, longer than she liked, hanging over his forehead and collar, blue eyes, medium build, nothing special. But there was something about his grin, the way it lit up his face, Piper felt herself warming to him.
Soul Taker Page 8
