“Yes!” Hugo thundered.
The voice in his headset repeated its question. “What’s happening? Who is this?”
“Hugo! It’s Hugo!”
“Hugo? This is Madeleine. How’s the mission going?”
Hugo gave a dry, nervous chuckle, then hashed out a quick summary of the last half hour. Madeleine listened patiently.
“You said you have Markov?”
“Yes, he’s lying here on the floor of the van.”
Now Madeleine chuckled. “Great job, Hugo. I knew you were the right man for us.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still have an angry helicopter chasing us, and they’re not giving up. And yeah, we have Markov, but we didn’t find an antidote or a scanner.”
“Gotcha. Get to runway B as fast as you can. I’ll see if I can arrange for a little help to be waiting for you there. And you’re heading to Helsinki later?”
“Yeah. Markov’s assistant is there. And the antidote and scanner. How much time do we have?”
“Before the London press conference?”
“Right.”
“Twenty-two hours—a little less, actually. Make sure you get a move on.”
Additional rounds screamed by, hitting the surrounding pines.
“We’re doing our best,” Hugo replied. “Over and out.”
15
The beauty before him was stunning. The gold coins scattered across the table glittered as Klaus Horst stared at them. This was his great pride in life—his gold coin collection. All eight of them—all high-quality, some extremely rare—were strewn on a luxurious length of black velvet. Ever since Klaus was a boy, he had found peace and order in coin collecting. And the gods only knew that he needed peace and calm now when so much was at stake.
He picked up a 1920s Indian gold coin. His fingers slid over its surface, and he shivered. The phone on the desk vibrated, and he laid the coin back down on the velvet cloth.
“Yes?”
The voice on the other end crackled, cut apart, barely making it through. Klaus pushed the phone harder to his ear.
“Yes? Hello?”
“It’s Xi.”
“Xi? It’s about time. You have something to report? Do you have Markov?”
“No, not yet. I’m pursuing him in a helicopter now.”
Klaus bit his lip. “You disappoint me, Xi. I knew you weren’t the best, but you came recommended. A young, up-and-coming assassin. That’s what we heard, and that’s why we hired you. Was it a mistake?”
“No. We have them in sight—the van Markov is in. Some people got to Markov’s villa before us and took him.”
“Who?”
Xi hesitated for just an instant, then said, “It’s him. The man from this morning. The man who was outside Novus. Hugo.”
Klaus’ heart skipped a beat. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Ninety-nine percent.”
Klaus got up and started pacing the room. The thick, dark-green carpet muted his steps, and the amber lamps spread a discordantly warm glow. “Okay,” he said. “Make sure you get hold of Markov. Do what you need to do. Anything you need to do.”
Xi said something, but his voice broke up.
“What?”
“I said I talked to the pilot. We’re right behind them. Trust me.”
The call cut off then. Klaus stared at the silent phone, trembling. There was so much at stake here. His entire time at QuantumCorp had led up to this day. All the planning, all the hours he had spent preparing his ascent to the throne. All the humiliating missions he’d had to perform on Heidi’s behalf. He walked over to his palatial desk, set the phone on its glossy surface, and sat down. He glanced over the gold coins and his feeling of content joy slowly returned.
*
The impact was hard—hard enough that Hugo groaned in pain as his shoulder bumped into the seat in front of him.
“Sorry!” Mikko steered the van with a skillful hand, and it came loose from the snowdrift it had become stuck in. The tires sprayed snow as they sped up once more. The faint rumble of the helicopter came closer, and Hugo rolled down his window and stretched out his head, searching the clouds for the approaching threat.
“There! Behind us, to the right,” he shouted to the others. “About a hundred meters away.”
Mikko called out, “Shit! We haven’t got that far to go. We can’t die now that we’ve almost escaped!”
Freya grabbed one of the M249 machine guns. “This might scare them off,” she said. She crawled to the open window with the big rifle in one hand. She flipped the safety and stuck the barrel out through the window. In the same second, Mikko swung the opposite way. Freya fell back into the van and dropped the gun, cursing. Mikko checked the rear-view mirror.
“My fault! That was my fault!”
Freya muttered under her breath in response, then grabbed the rifle again and crawled back to the window. She tried to get a good view of the helicopter, but the pilot seemed to perceive the threat and maneuvered the chopper strategically behind the van.
“I don’t see it! Mikko, do something!”
“I’ll try. Hold on!”
Three seconds later, they reached a space of flat ground, and the hard-packed snow made the van slide like Bambi on ice. Freya tried in vain to get herself into a shooting position. As she fumbled, a long volley of shots from the helicopter hit the van’s side door, punching softball-sized holes in it. Anna yelped, and Markov covered his head with his arms.
Hugo saw the look of determined focus on Freya’s face. She was dirty and bloody, and her sweaty hair was glued to her forehead. But in her eyes, a fire burned. Some people got that way when they were placed in a life-threatening situation, and some didn’t. Those others went down, but not Freya.
She grabbed hold of the doorframe and held the heavy weapon in a firm grip. “Turn right when I say so!” she called to Mikko.
“Roger!”
“Three, two, one . . . now!”
Mikko veered right, and the van slid forward. As if in slow motion, the helicopter slid forward into Freya’s field of view. She lined up the sights and gently squeezed the trigger. The blast of the machine gun echoed off the metal walls of the van, and Hugo saw Freya’s muscles thump as the bullets flew from the weapon.
Freya’s battle cry joined in with the chaotic noise of the machine gun. A dozen bullets struck the rear of the helicopter, and a thin cloud of smoke began to spread behind it.
Sussie shouted triumphantly, “You got it! Awesome shooting!”
Freya’s and Hugo’s eyes met as she pulled the weapon back inside the van.
“Good shot,” he said.
She winked. “No problem.”
Mikko yanked the steering wheel and straightened up the van. “Nice, Freya,” he called back. “Seven miles to go.”
Hugo fell back into the seat, his heart pounding. He took a few deep, measured breaths until his pulse fell again. On the floor beside him, Markov lay whimpering on the floor. Hugo leaned over, grabbed his blood-stained collar, and pulled him up to sitting.
“Your discovery. Tell me about it.”
Markov stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?” he stammered.
“Exactly what I said. I want to hear everything about your invention with the drug and nanobots.”
Markov swallowed hard and covered his mouth. “I’m going to throw up.”
“No, you’re not,” Hugo said flatly. “You’ve managed to hold it in this long—you’ll be fine. The worst is over. Now tell me.”
Markov pulled his trembling hand down from his face. “All right. The treatment consists of two parts. The first is an injection of a hypnotic-type sedative mixture that prepares the brain to be receptive, and that is followed by another injection of specialized nanobots that access certain selected places in the brain.”
Hugo listened as Markov went on about the scientific details of his “breakthrough.” The more he talked, the colder Hugo felt inside.
*
The light led their way. Mikko slowed down a little as they approached the city and traffic increased. He pointed.
“There’s runway B.”
They passed through a gate and swung up onto the plowed runway. A lone black car sat parked just under a hundred meters away, and as the van got closer, the car’s headlights blinked three times.
From behind Mikko’s seat, Hugo said, “Okay, that was the signal. Drive over there.”
They approached the black car, and as they got closer, all four doors opened at once. Three men a woman stepped out and stood next to the vehicle, looking in their direction. Once the van had come to a stop, Hugo opened the door and stepped out with a groan of pain.
The woman was around fifty, gray-haired and wearing a thick, faux-fur coat. Her thin, angular face was stern, but her eyes gave off the slightest hint of warmth at the very corners. She reminded Hugo of his high school chemistry teacher.
“We heard some of you are injured, is that correct?”
“Yes. I am, for one.” Hugo gestured toward the bandage on his shoulder.
“My colleague and I can treat you before you leave.” The woman paused and said, “If you’re interested, that is.”
“I’d certainly appreciate that.”
Next to the woman stood a short man in a brown cap. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m an intelligence specialist. Madeleine called and told me I needed to be here.”
Hugo studied the man. He had those special qualities that make a person completely unmemorable—the kind of guy whose face you’d never recall if you passed him on the street.
He tilted his head and asked, “Intelligence specialist for whom?”
“Like I said, Madeleine called me personally.”
Hugo’s eyes shifted to the woman. “Who is your friend?”
She shrugged and replied, “All four of us got the same call. We didn’t know each other before this; we just came here to help as best we could.”
Sussie stepped out of the van and laid a hand on his good shoulder. “Madeleine tends to operate like this,” she said. “People only find out the bare minimum amount of information, and only just when they need it.”
Hugo frowned. It had been a while since he’d been in this world of secret operations, but he was gradually finding his rhythm. He turned to the woman in fur.
“Okay. A young woman in the van needs medical help, too. The others can do whatever it is they’re supposed to do.”
The woman reached into the black car and pulled out a sizeable medical bag. “Lead the way.”
*
The vibrations got more and more severe; Xi knew they wouldn’t make it.
“I can put her down there,” the pilot said, pointing
Xi cursed. This was the second time the man named Hugo had escaped him. And not only that, but he’d also got hold of Markov. Xi clenched his fists and pounded the armrest.
Miguel was checking his gun. He lifted his eyes to Xi and said, “Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Xi hissed. “This is the second time the damn bastard has gotten away.”
Miguel shrugged. “Yeah, but we have all of QuantumCorp’s resources at our disposal, right?”
“True. What’s your point?”
“We already know where they’re going next. The report said Markov’s assistant is in Finland, so that’s obviously their next destination.”
Xi fell silent and Miguel continued.
“Which means they’ll have to charter a plane to Finland three hundred miles away. It takes almost an hour to fly there.”
“Yes, and?”
“I know a guy inside QuantumCorp’s data department. They have a direct connection to all QuantumCorp’s satellites in orbit around the earth. If we can get in touch with him, then we can get hold of a little more firepower than we have access to right now.”
Xi’s ears perked up. “What kind of firepower are you talking about?”
“I heard they have access to some high-tech stuff—microwave weapons, drones, you name it. Quite experimental. If the password Klaus gave you works in the data center, we can have a party.”
Xi thought about this for a moment.
“Okay, call him.”
A minute later, Miguel handed his cell phone to Xi.
“Here. His name is Raj.”
Xi took the phone. “Yes, Raj? This is Xi Liu. I work for Klaus Horst and could use your help.”
The voice had a distinct Indian accent. “Good for you. I know Miguel, not you. Why should I help you?”
Xi took a deep breath. “Because if you help me, you’ll be rewarded. And if you don’t, I’ll come for you when this mission is over.”
“You can’t talk to me like that.”
“Of course I can. I’m in the middle of a secret operation and I demand that you help me.”
Raj hesitated. “Even if I could help you, you have to enter a top-secret password to get access to the classified systems. QuantumCorp may be a private company, but our security is at least as high as the military’s.”
Xi licked his lips and said slowly, “Code name: red aluminum adder.”
Raj fell silent. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured.
Xi waited, listening as Raj tapped on his keyboard. Thirty seconds passed.
“What do you need help with?” he finally asked.
Xi explained in detail what he had in mind, and when he terminated the call, a wave of anticipation rolled through him.
16
The wait is always the worst part.
Hugo scouted the dark sky with his binoculars but saw nothing. For the hundredth time this evening, he touched his wounded shoulder. What the doctor had done to him earlier had worked. His pain had lessened considerably, and though he could feel the stitches tighten as he moved, it felt leagues better than it had just an hour ago.
A hand touched his other shoulder, and Hugo turned to see Mikko beside him.
“Hey, buddy. You see anything?”
“No. They should be here any time now, though.”
“Trust Madeleine. If she says she’ll do something, she’ll do it.”
“Hope you’re right.”
Mikko chuckled. “You’re used to this kind of waiting, right? Considering everything Sussie told us about you—and what you told us yourself—you’re a regular super-soldier. “
Hugo lowered the binoculars peered sideways at Mikko, trying to determine if he was making fun of him or not. He decided the question was innocent.
“No,” Hugo answered. “Not at all.”
“Not at all what? Not used to waiting, or not a super-soldier?”
Hugo chuckled. “Neither. I’m not a super-soldier, and I’m not used to waiting, either. All the operations we performed were sanctioned at the highest level and always planned down to the smallest detail.”
Mikko chuckled. “I see. So you’re accustomed to having a little more resources than we have here, then?”
Hugo scouted the dark horizon once again. There—a dim light appeared in the distance—and was approaching. He pointed. “That has to be our ride.”
Mikko didn’t answer when Hugo turned.
“Listen,” Hugo said. “With the resources we have available now, and considering what’s happened in the last ten hours, I think we’re doing an outstanding job. I mean, this morning I couldn’t have dreamed that I’d be here, on the run from St. Petersburg with a group of elite soldiers,” he paused, “and a crazy Finnish guy.”
Mikko burst out laughing and thumped Hugo on the back. Hugo groaned.
“Oh, God, buddy. Sorry about that. I forgot.”
Hugo held up his hand and forced a grin. “Don’t worry about it. Go ahead and tell the others our ride has arrived.”
Mikko hurried off, and Hugo followed the slender private airplane with the binoculars as it slid in for a landing. Powdery snow sprayed in all directions as the heavy-duty wheels connected with the runway. He pulled out his cell phone and scrol
led through his contact list to Lita’s name. I really should call her, he thought, but still he hesitated. This just didn’t seem like the right place to talk to her.
Instead, he wrote a short text message and pressed send. The yellow-and-blue lacquered aircraft taxied to their position and stopped. A stairway extended, and a man with round glasses and a wide smile stepped through the door and waved.
“Hey there, team. Time to leave.”
A few minutes later, the four of them were sitting in comfortable seats and the aircraft was moving to start position. Hugo’s eyelids, suddenly heavy as lead, fell closed as the aircraft began to accelerate.
“Ten minutes. Just give me ten minutes,” He mumbled.
Mikko watched as, in the space of five seconds, Hugo’s head listed to the side and he fell deeply asleep.
*
It was like a shadow in the night, almost invisible. A few hundred kilometers away, the giant C-8 drone made a forty-five-degree turn and increased its speed. This was the latest generation Cai Hong combat drone and was packed with high-tech equipment. Less than ten minutes later, its sensors registered the target and it activated its weapons.
Its encrypted communication with the control center confirmed the command, and the drone shifted into attack mode.
*
It started as a faint trembling. A fraction of a second later, the wing had four holes in it as powerful machine-gun rounds made contact.
Sussie yelled, “What the hell was that?”
Hugo peered out the window and saw sparks flying from the engine. The aircraft began to shake harder.
“We’re hit,” Hugo answered simply. Sussie stared at him uncomprehendingly.
“What? Hit?”
Hugo pressed his finger to the window. “Hit. Someone shot us. They hit the engine.”
Sussie gasped and hurried to the window. A faint smell of smoke spread through the cabin.
“No, no.”
The Hugo Xavier Series: Book 1-3 Page 11