The Hugo Xavier Series: Book 1-3

by Filip Forsberg

  “Okay,” he said with a smile, “that sounds nice.”

  Dragan cleared his throat and spoke. “Sir, maybe you should watch the news.”

  Jasper looked at him, his smile fading. “Why?”

  Dragan hesitated, then held up his mobile. “It’s a live broadcast from a port in Denmark. They’re talking about a helicopter that landed on the ship after we left.”

  Raynard jerked and leaped to his feet. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through it. His face became paler and paler as he read.

  “It can’t be possible!”

  He looked around and grabbed a remote control from the table, then turned on the TV hanging on the wall. It flickered to life, and a well-groomed man appeared on the screen. He was pointing back behind him at a ship gliding toward the horizon.

  “And there you have it, folks. It’s been an intense, dramatic day out here on the Danish coast—first a burglary, then a shooting, and then a boat chase. And to top it all off, it ended with a chopper coming and picking up some of the people who had crashed on the Golden Wind. I don’t know about you good people, but you want to eat a good dinner after a day like this, right? And with that, I, Tony Stiles, end Channel Four’s live broadcast from Denmark. Back to you, Jana and Robert.”

  The camera cut to a man and a woman sitting in a news studio.

  The woman nodded. “Right, like Tony just said, we’re trying to keep up with all the fast-paced developments as well as we can. But according to initial reports, it appears that the helicopter that picked up the people from the ship has headed north toward Oslo. We’ve contacted our Norwegian associates and hope for an early update on how things play out.”

  Raynard trembled with anger. “No! Shit! Fuck!”

  The men stared at him as he continued to swear and pound on the edge of the sofa.

  “It can’t be possible! Why can’t he just die?”

  Jasper bit his lip. “This is extremely unfortunate,” he said. “It means they’re still after you.”

  Jules stood up, and Dragan and Slavo did the same.

  “Try not to worry about it,” Jules told Raynard. “It’s an unforeseen event, but nothing to panic about. We’ll fix it.”

  Raynard swallowed hard, shaking his head as he tried to regain control. He lifted his eyes and met Jasper’s gaze.

  “Yes,” he said. “Stay calm. We’ll take care of it. They don’t know where we are in Oslo, and we’ll be out of here as soon as the press conference is over.”

  Jasper frowned. “True. And yet . . .”

  Raynard looked at Dragan and Slavo. “You two, go guard the hall. Just as an extra security measure.”

  Dragan and Slavo nodded, pulled out their weapons, and flipped the safety off. They walked toward the hall.

  “I thought I could trust you,” Jasper snorted as he looked at Raynard.

  Raynard clenched his jaw. “This is a minor mistake, no problem. We’ll fix it.”

  Jasper shook his head and poured another whiskey.

  “You better.”

  18

  There was no time to lose. Hugo and Freya rushed up the stairs, their legs working like iron hammers. They reached the fourth floor, and Hugo’s heart pounded in his chest. He tasted blood, and his shoulder burned when he grabbed the handrail and pulled himself up.

  “You with me, Freya?”

  Freya was four steps behind him. “Yes, keep running!”

  They passed the fourth floor, and a door on the floor above them opened. Voices. Hugo froze, listening. A second later, he continued up the stairs to the fifth floor and saw a man stepping through the door into the stairwell. The man wore a black suit, and he glared at Hugo. A bodyguard—Hugo had seen thousands of his type. Behind him, a woman came through the door. She looked nervous and held something tightly in her hand. Hugo and Freya slowed down, and another man in black came out from behind the woman. The first man nodded at Hugo as he passed him on the stairs.

  “Excuse us,” the bodyguard said with a polite nod.

  There was something in the man’s eye that made alarm bells ring in Hugo’s mind, but at the moment, he had more important things to worry about. Hugo answered the nod.

  “No problem.”

  The woman came next, and Hugo studied her as she walked by. The thing in her hand was a dark, small box. That was weird, but there was no time to investigate it, either. The two men and the woman passed Hugo and Freya, and Hugo approached the thick metal door through which they had come. It was closing slowly.

  As it was pulling closed, Hugo saw a familiar shadow in the hallway behind the door. He froze. It couldn’t be possible. Hugo slammed the door open, and a few doors down, a man was headed into a hotel room. The man jerked his head toward the sound when the stairwell door flew open. Hugo stared. It was him, the man with the scarred face. Hugo stepped out into the fifth-floor hallway.

  “There you are,” Hugo said to him.

  The scarred man stood still for a few moments before he understood. Then he smiled. “Yes. Here I am.” The man’s smile grew wider. “Maybe it’s about time we met, right?”

  Hugo tensed every muscle in his body. Adrenaline rushed through him. “Yeah, it is. My name is Hugo Xavier. Just so we have a proper introduction.”

  The man clapped his hands. “Good. My name is Raynard—”

  Hugo interrupted him. “Raynard de Cryx.”

  Raynard’s smile tensed. “You’re well-informed, I see.”

  “Absolutely. Information is something we have in abundance.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Sure is.”

  “What else do you know about me, then?” Raynard asked.

  Hugo shrugged. “French mercenary. Imprisoned for murdering another legionnaire. Went to Africa where you were also a mercenary.”

  Raynard nodded slowly. “Impressive.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But it doesn’t make any difference now. You can’t stop what’s going to happen now. Sara will interrupt the press conference and present the evidence that Magnus is a murderer.”

  Hugo didn’t move a muscle, but his brain was going one hundred miles an hour. The seconds passed like hours. Freya remained in the stairwell, listening to the exchange. Hugo could only hope she understood that she needed to rush after the woman who had just passed them. She must be the woman Raynard was talking about.

  Hugo’s heart pounded, and sweat trickled down his temple. The door clicked shut behind him again, but just before it did, he heard Freya running back down the stairs. He took a deep breath and nodded at Raynard.

  “Let’s see how it goes. The important thing now, though, is that you come with me. You and your team are responsible for the deaths in Magnus von Silverstråle’s apartment.”

  “They weren’t supposed to die, but it couldn’t be avoided,” Raynard said with a shrug.

  Hugo took a step forward. “You can explain yourself to the police.”

  Raynard’s lips stretched thin. “Hardly.”

  Hugo perceived movement behind the door Raynard was standing in front of. A second later, it was pulled back, and a man exploded out into the hallway. He flew through the air holding a long, dark weapon that was aimed straight at Hugo. He pulled the trigger, and the rifle thundered. Rounds slammed into the wall Hugo’s left, and he threw himself into the shelter of the stairwell. He rolled around and got to his feet. The man with the automatic weapon hit the wall and landed heavily, and the shooting temporarily stopped.

  Raynard pulled out his gun, pulled open the stairwell door, and opened fire. A slug hit Hugo’s leg, and Hugo jerked as his feet flew out from under him. He felt nothing and stared down. Blood flowed from a hole in his calf.

  Hugo gritted his teeth. It was all or nothing. If he stayed there, he would be dead in a few seconds. His hands slid to the handles of two knives secured to a holster on his chest. He grabbed one, and in a single smooth motion, he flung it at Raynard.

  In pure reflex, Raynard raised his hand, and the bl
ade penetrated the underside of his forearm. Raynard roared and dropped his weapon. The man holding the automatic jumped up, ran to the stairwell, and lifted the rifle. He pressed the trigger again, but only a few shots rang out before Hugo threw the other knife. It flashed, finding a home in the gunman’s forehead.

  The man let go of the rifle, stared blankly at Hugo, and fell backward into the hallway. Raynard stared uncomprehendingly at the man bleeding from his head on the floor. Hugo pushed himself to his feet and rushed toward Raynard, roaring. Raynard jerked as he turned toward the oncoming Hugo. Like a speeding train, Hugo ignored the pain in his calf and ran toward Raynard de Cryx.

  The suite door opened again, and a man appeared, grabbed Raynard, and dragged him into the room. The door slammed shut. Hugo threw himself at it, but it held. He spun around and saw the man with the automatic weapon staring straight up with blind eyes. Hugo dove and grabbed the dead man’s weapon, then turned around and opened fire on the door. In the narrow hall, the sound of the gates of hell thundered mercilessly.

  ***

  Like the wind, Freya flew down the stairs. The man who was talking to Hugo must have been Raynard de Cryx, and given what he said, it had to mean that the woman who had passed them on the stairs was on her way down to the press conference. That woman had been carrying a box. Who knew what was in it, but whatever it was, it was valuable enough to be used against Magnus. Freya rushed on, taking the steps three at a time.

  Her strong legs took her to the bottom of the stairwell in a matter of seconds. The voices in front of her came closer. One of the men said something that Freya missed. Freya went around the corner and flew down the final flight of stairs leading to the door to the hotel foyer. The woman and two bodyguards froze as Freya stormed toward them like a tornado. She jumped down two more steps and took a tiger leap toward the man nearest her. She hit him on the shoulder with devastating force. The man was thrown back, hitting his head on the concrete wall. He fell to the floor with a thud. The woman screamed and pulled herself against the wall in terror.

  “No!”

  The other bodyguard was prepared, and he crouched. Freya got to her feet and threw herself at him, but he slipped away and punched Freya hard in the stomach. She foresaw the blow, but a little late, and it knocked the wind out of her. She heaved and fell against the wall. Staggering back up, she tried to take a deep breath to get air back into her lungs.

  “Not so tough now, are you?” The bodyguard grinned.

  Freya pushed away the pain and stood up straight. The bodyguard was two steps below her, and she went down the stairs to meet his gaze. He was scared; she could see it in his eyes. He moved softly, like a panther. Freya instinctively took in the man’s movement pattern, and they observed each other for a few seconds. In the cramped space, their movements were limited.

  Meanwhile, the woman crawled away in horror with the box under her arm. The bodyguard made a sudden burst of motion, and Freya slid to the side, parrying easily. The man bent his knees, and Freya could easily see what he was going to do. A fraction of a second later, Freya pretended to slip, and the bodyguard saw his chance.

  He jumped toward Freya with both arms outstretched, but Freya slipped away. When the bodyguard flew by, she smashed his chin with a decisive uppercut. His head snapped back, and his eyes rolled up. He fell to the ground and remained there. Freya rubbed her sore knuckles where the blow hit. The bones were probably not broken, but her hand throbbed like it was on fire. She turned quickly and looked at the terrified woman. She was crouched low, half-lying on a step with the box held tightly in her arms. She stretched out one arm toward Freya.

  “No! No, stay away!”

  Freya’s face was rock-hard as she approached the woman. She reached down and pulled the box from the woman’s grip, and the woman began to claw at Freya.

  “No! It’s mine! Give it to me!”

  Her nails tore over the skin of Freya’s arm. Annoyed, Freya turned to the woman and delivered a hard blow to her face. The woman stumbled backward. Freya took a step toward her.

  “What’s your name?”

  The woman blinked. “Sara,” she sniveled weakly.

  “Sara what?”

  “Sa—Sara Blitz,” Sara stammered.

  Freya pursed her lips. “Listen to me, Sara Blitz. The police are going to want to talk to you about your role in all this. You stay here until I get back. Got it?”

  Sara opened her eyes. “No, you can’t force me. I’m rich. I mean—I’m married to a very powerful man. You have no right to force me to stay here.”

  Jesus, Freya thought. She had to get back to Hugo. She didn’t have time for this lady. Freya reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of cable ties. Sara saw them and backed away.

  “No!”

  But Freya ignored her. She walked over to Sara, grabbed her wrist, and lifted her up to her feet. Taking the cable ties, she pulled Sara against the wall, pushed her down onto a step, and connected the cable tie around the handrail and Sara’s wrist. She tightened it, and Sara wailed.

  “No, let me go!”

  But Freya wasn’t listening. She pivoted and ran back up the stairs.

  ***

  Chaos. Pure and simple chaos. That was what met Freya when she threw open the door at the top of the stairwell. Hugo depressed the trigger until the magazine ran out. He jerked when the door flew open, saw that it was Freya, and turned again toward the door where Raynard had disappeared.

  Freya rushed to him, and then her gaze slid down to the dead man.

  “Where’s Raynard?”

  Hugo nodded at the door. “In there.”

  “Weapons?”

  Hugo’s face turned grim as he pulled out his handgun. “Just this,” he said.

  Freya nodded. “Okay. What’s Plan B? I guess we can’t just storm into the apartment.”

  Hugo shook his head and replied, “No, they’ll shoot us down immediately.” Hugo’s nostrils burned as the sharp gunpowder smoke reached his nose, making his eyes water. His brain raced. He and Freya had to get into that room one way or another. They hadn’t come this far just to give up. Hugo looked at Freya.

  “What about the woman on the stairs?”

  Freya smiled and said, “She’s been neutralized. I tied her up at the bottom of the stairs—she’s going nowhere.”

  Hugo gave her a nod. “Good job.” He looked around the hall. Another door stood opposite the one through which Raynard had disappeared. Hugo considered. It was a gamble, but now that was all they had.

  “Do you still have the key card for the rooms?”

  Freya nodded. “Yeah, but why? We’ll be shot down immediately if we go in there.”

  “Not there,” he said and nodded toward the opposite door.

  Freya stared at him, and a moment later, her eyes lit up. “Smart,” she said. “A flanking maneuver.”

  Hugo clenched his fists. “It’s our best chance.”

  They quickly ran through the plan, and Hugo looked at Freya.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Freya pulled the key card through the reader on the opposite door, and Hugo rushed into the empty suite. He ran through the entry hall and into an adjoining room, where a spiral staircase led upward. He took the steps three at a time and came out into the fresh air of the rooftop.

  The penthouses at the Grand Hôtel each had a spiral staircase that led up to the roof terrace. Hugo sprinted across the roof to the side that belonged to the suite where Raynard was. He raced to the door and tried the handle. It was unlocked. He exhaled, opened the door, and stepped inside. When Hugo didn’t hear any sounds after a few seconds, he moved carefully down the spiral stairs.

  Then he heard something, a person trying to suffocate a cough in the living room. Hugo tensed, preparing himself. This was do or die. Nearby, a man talked to someone else in the living room.

  “Yes, now, come on! I don’t care!”

  Hugo tiptoed down the stairs and snuck up to the living room doorw
ay. Something inside him prevented him from going any further, though. The hair on his arms stood up. A shadow moved imperceptibly on the other side, and a second later, the barrel of a rifle stuck out through the doorway. Hugo resolutely grabbed it and jerked. The man holding it screamed as he was pulled forward. Hugo yanked the weapon so forcefully that he dragged the man with him, and he slammed him into the wall, smashing his nose.

  Hugo moved like mercury. He took a step toward the man as his head was on its way back from the bang, grabbed the back of his head, and drove it into the wall a second time. The man froze, went limp, and collapsed. Someone shouted from inside the living room.

  “No! Slavo!”

  Hugo grabbed Slavo’s weapon and rushed to the opening again. The living room expanded before him, and Hugo perceived movement in two places: right behind the sofa and over near the doorway to the hall. He took a deep breath.

  “Give up!” Hugo shouted. “The police are on their way!”

  The answer came immediately. “Never!”

  “It doesn’t matter what you do,” Hugo called out. “The police will be here soon, and you have nowhere to run. If you leave the suite, you’ll either be arrested or shot. Put down your weapons! Now!”

  Raynard’s tone was strong and sure. “Never.”

  Hugo groaned. This was going to require some collaboration with Freya. Hugo shouted even more loudly this time.

  “Okay, put down your weapons! I’m going to count to three!”

  Silence.

  “One!”

  More silence.

  “Two!”

  Someone shifted behind the sofa.

  “Three!”

  A fraction of a second later, an enormous bang came from the hall, and shots echoed. A man shouted, and something fell heavily.

  “No, Dragan! You bastard!” Raynard roared.

  Hugo and Freya’s ruse had succeeded. While Hugo had kept their attention on him, Freya had prepared to break in through the door. Raynard shouted something, but Hugo couldn’t tell what it was. That meant Raynard had to be talking to someone else. Hugo froze. There was another man in the suite. Who was it? Was it the one behind all this? Hugo pushed his thoughts away and focused on the next step. Ignoring the pain in his body, he clenched his jaw.