The Hugo Xavier Series: Book 1-3

by Filip Forsberg

  Hugo shook his head.

  “Then it’s good that I’m here. We can’t have you running around on a private revenge train.”

  Adnan bent his legs slightly and sighed.

  “I don’t have time for this. If you don’t want to move...

  The Spaniard’s voice died out, but he fluttered and threw himself forward so fast that Hugo almost didn’t have time to pull himself to the side. The Spaniard’s hand turned into steel hooks and grabbed after Hugo, but he managed at the last second to pull away. Hugo flexed every muscle in his body and swiftly kicked the Spaniard’s leg. He missed.

  The Spaniard followed up the attack with a whirlwind of punches and kicks, where Hugo narrowly fended off the punches. Hugo stumbled backward while trying to defend himself. The Spaniard, however, was like mercury, moving softly and elegantly and at a speed that Hugo had never seen anyone move like that. Hugo smashed into the wall behind and didn’t come any farther; the Spaniard slid forward and struck a hard blow to Hugo’s midsection.

  The air squeezed out of his lungs, and he sank to his knees. The Spaniard saw his opening to a quick finish and moved forward for a killing blow. He lifted his arm and struck Hugo’s face. At the last second, however, Hugo pulled his face back, so the Spaniard hit the air. Hugo grabbed the Spaniard’s wrist with lightning speed and pulled hard. The Spaniard stumbled, for a moment without balance. He moved forward and was about to fall. At the last second, he stopped his fall and staggered to the side. When he got a few feet away, he turned to Hugo and smirked.

  “Impressive.”

  Hugo flexed his abs as hard as he could and squeezed air into his lungs. He got to his feet. The pain pounded in his stomach and shoulder. He pulled his hand over his face.

  “Thank you.”

  “Few people can match me in battle, but I have to say you’ve done well,” he said.

  Hugo reached out. The helicopter above them was still hovering, and the air around them roared.

  The Spaniard smirked.

  “But it’s been long enough.”

  Hugo was about to respond when a voice behind them called out.

  “Police! Stop!”

  Hugo caught a glimpse of two men in the window, one of them with a gun. But the Spaniard fluttered again, and before he could move, he slid toward Hugo’s body, and with a blow, straight up his chest, he pushed Hugo so hard that he lifted off the ground.

  Hugo felt his body become light as he sailed over the crest of the wall and into the abyss behind.

  8

  Power. It was the only thing that mattered. LaCroix Richter rose and stretched. Something creaking in his back, and he moaned. Jasmin, standing a few feet away, looked at him with a troubled face.

  “Are you okay, sir?”

  LaCroix nodded and pulled his hand over his face.

  “Of course. It’s just the age, my dear.”

  Jasmin smiled, and her perfect white teeth sparkled.

  “You still look quite young, Mr. Richter.”

  LaCroix smiled and walked up to Jasmin.

  “You’re a good woman, Jasmin. Effective and honest. You’re going to make a good wife.”

  Jasmine blushed.

  “Thank you.”

  LaCroix clasped his lips and spun around. If he were ten years younger, he’d have taken her as his girlfriend. But now, in this day and age, it wasn’t fitting. Everything they did was registered and could come back decades later. Now he was too experienced to make such a mistake. He could find pleasure elsewhere.

  “What do we have next?”

  Jasmin picked up a phone.

  “Lunch in half an hour. With the delegation from the European Committee.”

  LaCroix nodded and clasped his jaw.

  “Okay, before we meet them, I have a call I have to take,” he said.

  Jasmin’s eyes fluttered, and she glanced at her phone.

  “But the committee...”

  Her words died out when LaCroix looked at her. His eyes flashed.

  “It won’t take long, I said. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  He spun around and briskly left the room. He walked back through the beautiful hallway and back into the bare metal-clad room. The young man rose swiftly.

  “Mr. Richter.”

  LaCroix nodded.

  “I have an important conversation now. With contact seven.”

  “I understand.”

  LaCroix walked up to the table, pulled out the chair, and sat in front of the monitor. The young man’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

  “Three seconds.”

  The screen flickered. A face appeared. A woman. More than sixty years. Glasses. The white hair was put up in a hard knot. Thin lips.

  “LaCroix. It’s good to see you.”

  He smiled.

  “Lisa. It’s good to see you. How’s it going?”

  Lisa Heyneman grinned.

  “It’s going great. I’m working on a fascinating project. Something that can pay a lot in the future if it goes as planned.”

  LaCroix leaned forward. Lisa Heyneman was one of the richest women in North America. She was head of a massive conglomerate of chemical and oil businesses. Her fortune amounted to hundreds of billions, and she was also an old friend of LaCroix. They’d known each other for almost a decade. But it was only a month ago that their friendship had taken to a new level. Lisa had contacted LaCroix to suggest that it was time for him to be offered a seat on the Shadow Council. It was a mythical society that LaCroix had heard rumors about but always dismissed as just rumors. But when it turned out that there was truth in the stories and Lisa was part of it, it had all become much more real for LaCroix.

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  Lisa shook her head.

  “No, maybe later, but not right now. What matters now is not my projects but yours. You’re doing your first project. Tell me, how’s it going?”

  LaCroix swallowed hard and felt his hair rise on his arms. It felt like he was sitting in front of a schoolteacher. It was an unusual feeling, but LaCroix embraced it.

  “So far, things have gone according to plan. The Spaniard you put me in touch with turns out to be a formidable asset. He performed the first part of the mission entirely according to plan,” LaCroix paused. “Or, virtually after the plan. He left five dead behind.”

  Lisa nodded.

  “Yeah, you always have to count on some collateral damage.”

  “Yes, it isn’t the dead that bothers me. It’s more that the Spanish police seem to take the events seriously when there were so many dead. According to the reports I’ve received so far, it’s developing into quite a big effort.”

  “I understand.”

  LaCroix shrugged. This was no time to show remorse.

  “But it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that he got the research data. It’s the real gold mine. It’s priceless. And when he gets the information about where the two doctors are, he goes there and kills them too. Then Cabello Medico is without a board, and I’ll strike. I have my lawyers ready.”

  Lisa pulled off her glasses.

  “It’s good that you’re determined and that you have the goal in mind. And you must enforce this image now. There are many eyes following the events to see how you handle this. If you succeed, your place on the Shadow Council is almost guaranteed. If you fail, then...”

  “I won’t fail,” he said.

  A smile danced in the corner of Lisa’s mouth. “Good. And what about this man who caused trouble?”

  LaCroix clenched his jaw. “He’s nobody. According to reports, he is just a man who happened to walk off the street. It was pure coincidence that he was there.”

  Lisa chuckled. “I thought you knew that; there is no coincidence. Do you know who the man is?”

  A drop of sweat ran down LaCroix’s temple, and he swore silently. “No.”

  The smile vanished from Lisa’s mouth, and she leaned forward. “It’s not just anybody. The man who walked i
n from the street is Hugo Xavier.”

  “Who?”

  “You have to be better at following up on details like this, LaCroix. Hugo is no ordinary tourist. He is a top-trained ex-military who works for a Swedish company called Novus.”

  “Novus? I think I know the name.”

  “I think you do. Hugo’s brother was shot a year ago, and Hugo went on a revenge crusade. He chased the attackers to London, where he killed them. It was all over the news.”

  LaCroix flinched when he remembered the history. “It can’t be the same Hugo, can it?”

  Lisa’s face was a mask. “You bet it is. He was on vacation with his wife and child. It looks like it was a coincidence that he was there, but we’re not entirely sure.”

  LaCroix swallowed. “We?”

  Lisa chuckled. “My dear friend, you didn’t think we’d sit idle while you were doing your first project, did you? We follow everything from the sideline.”

  LaCroix forced a smile. “Of course,” he said.

  “Are you going to make it, LaCroix?”

  He sat up straighter. “Absolutely. I’ll immediately follow up on what you have told me and make sure to change the plans.”

  “Good. Adapt and survive.”

  Before he could answer, communication ended. He frowned and turned to the young man. The young man shrugged.

  “I didn’t finish. It was them.”

  LaCroix rose, his legs slightly less stable now. He had to get hold of either Leonid or the Spaniard. The situation was slipping out of his hands, and that feeling caused some panic. He glared at the young man.

  “Find the Spaniard or Leonid. It doesn’t matter who, just either of them!”

  ***

  Darkness. Everywhere darkness. He flew through the night, one with it. It was him, and he was it. Mists moved around him, through him, and floated up through him. Stars glittered over him, and he tried to get there. But he was trapped in the dark, in a dark fog that held him. A voice. Someone called for him. His name. He heard it and tried to get to it because he knew that if he could get there, he would get away from the darkness.

  “Hugo!”

  Hugo slipped up through the darkness. To the voice that cried his name.

  “Hugo!”

  He opened his eyes, and in the same second, he changed his mind. The light cut into his eyes, and he saw a man leaning over him—a big man with a mustache.

  “Hugo, can you hear me?”

  Hugo smacked his lips. “Yes, I can hear you. Am I alive?”

  The man laughed and helped Hugo up. “At least you still have your sense of humor. That’s good. When the humor leaves us, it’s over.”

  Hugo stared into Pedro Sánchez’s face.

  “What happened?”

  Sánchez glanced up. “It was an impressive flight you made. The Spaniard hit you so hard that you flew over the wall and down here,” Sánchez whistled, “I’ve never seen anything like it. You flew like a swan, but your landing wasn’t as beautiful.”

  Hugo noticed the thunderous pain echoing through his body. But he pushed away the pain and got up. “Well, thank you, I’ll promise you that. Where did the Spaniard go?”

  Sánchez nodded to the east while his eyes became narrower. “There. He’s on the lookout for a man who was seen running from this house. Did you help him?”

  “Who?”

  “The man the Spaniard is after?”

  “Yes.”

  “We believe he is a mercenary, and he and his men have been on site here in the village to meet up with the Spaniard.”

  Hugo nodded. “Yes, that sounds plausible. Do you know why?”

  Sánchez frowned. “No. You know?”

  Hugo shrugged and massaged one arm. “He said he would get information about where two doctors were. According to him, they are responsible for his wife and child’s deaths. And the mercenary has information about their whereabouts.”

  “Leonid,” he said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “The man you helped. His name is Leonid.”

  Hugo scratched his chin. “Okay.”

  Voices came closer, and a group of policemen appeared around the corner. Hugo became aware that he and Sánchez were standing alone and talking. Hugo looked away toward the road where the Spaniard disappeared.

  “I have to go after him.”

  Sánchez put his hand on Hugo’s shoulder. “That’s out of the question. You’ve had a terrible fall, and you need medical help.”

  Hugo shook his head. “You don’t have to. I’m okay.”

  Sánchez held his hand while waving to two men of the group who had come around the corner. They came up to them. Sánchez smiled.

  “These are paramedics. They’re going to take care of you for now.”

  Hugo glanced at the two men. They were dressed in white clothes, but their grim face wasn’t something you would expect from medical staff.

  “I understand.”

  Inspector Sánchez winked at the two men, spun around, and approached the other officers. When he reached the group, he nodded in Hugo’s direction. The two men led Hugo away to a stone bench and sat him down.

  “Sit down. Wait.”

  Hugo forced a smile. They were going to hold him until they got reinforcements here and take him to the police station.

  “Of course,” he said.

  Hugo sat down and took a few deep breaths. He felt the energy come back to him and the pieces of the fight against the Spaniard flashed past in his interior. The Spaniard had moved superbly quickly. He’d never seen anything like it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the man had some kind of superpower.

  He needed help. He needed help from Freya, Mikko, and Sussie if he was going to have any chance of doing this. There were the moments in life you realized you wouldn’t make a mission alone, and this was such a moment. He had to get away from here, catch up with his team, and go after the Spaniard.

  Minutes passed, and the two men stood next to him without any shred of giving him some kind of treatment. Sánchez stood with the other group and spoke low as police officers walked in and out of the house. Hugo held his stomach.

  “I don’t feel so good. I need help.”

  One of the men turned to face Hugo. “Soon. Just take it easy.”

  Hugo moaned and bent forward. “No, I can’t. It hurts so much.”

  The man put his hand on Hugo’s shoulder.

  “Okay, take it easy. I’ll get you help.”

  The man glanced at his companion.

  “Keep an eye on him.”

  The man nodded. “Sure.”

  The first man went over to Sánchez. Hugo continued to hold on to his stomach and watched in the corner of his eye as Sánchez glanced back toward Hugo. Hugo flexed every muscle in his body. Three, two, one. Now!

  The movement started from the bottom of the ground. Hugo clenched his hand and swept up as he threw himself into the air. He hit the man in the solar plexus, and the blood disappeared from his face. The man shook and scuffed in the ground. Behind him, Sánchez screamed.

  “No! Stop him!”

  But Hugo took a step up on the stone bench and looked up at the stone wall behind. It was just over three meters high, but if he could get up on it, the officers would have to run around through the stairs. Hugo threw himself up against the wall, caught a protruding rock, and pulled for everything for what he was worth. He flew up to the edge and caught on the edge. His iron-fisted grip hardened as he pulled himself up, and a moment of panic fluttered through him as he felt men grabbing at his feet. But he kicked and got up on the edge. Beneath him, Sánchez bellowed.

  “Stop, Hugo! No!”

  But Hugo didn’t look back as he crawled over the wall.

  ***

  Pain. It pounded inside him, but his legs worked as jackhammers. Hugo ran along the elevated aisle. He slipped on the rocks and almost fell, but he stayed upright. He ran on, and the alarm behind him faded as he ran several blocks. He glanced backward and saw th
e helicopter hovering above the house, but now it was several hundred meters up in the air. He came out into a small square where small crowds stood and talked to each other while some of them pointed up at the house he’d left.

  Someone called out, but Hugo ignored it. He passed a couple of men and recognized himself. He turned to the right, and while his heart pounded in his chest, he continued up to a long stone staircase leading down to the area where he left the car. He took the steps two at a time and came down to the road. He saw his car behind a dozen others, and he ran up to it, ripped open the door. He started the engine and threw it into reverse. He grabbed his phone. Two signals went through.

  “Novus. Madeleine.”

  “It’s me.”

  “Hugo, what’s going on?”

  Hugo hurriedly recounted what had happened. When he was done, he swerved past a truck filled with vegetables.

  “I got a tracking device on him. If we’re lucky now, it’s still there, so I can follow him.”

  “Well done, Hugo.”

  Hugo glanced at the clock. A little after ten. “And now the team should have landed. If I drive straight there, we should be able to take up the hunt together.”

  Madeleine was quiet for a few seconds.

  “Okay, that sounds like a plan. Do it and then call me when you have them. I’ll call the Spanish police for now and see if I can do anything to make things easier for you.”

  Hugo chuckled. “I don’t think so. You should have seen Sánchez’s face; he was ready to tear me apart.”

  Madeleine’s voice became grim. “I’m good at persuading.”

  “I know that, Madeleine. All right, I’ll go after Mikko, Freya, and Sussie. And you call the Spanish police.”

  “Good luck, Hugo.”

  “Thank you.”

  He ended the call. His pulse pounded in his head. But he loved this. Pulse. Chaos. The adrenaline that was chasing around in his body. Once you experienced the feeling that a mission gave, it was exceedingly difficult not to long for it again. There was nothing like that feeling. He pulled his hand over his head as he drove up the driveway of the highway and acceded to just below the speed limit. There was no panic. If he got caught now, it was all over. And as long as he had the tracker . . .