Matteo had to admit to himself that this was truly not his terrain. He was more interested in sneaking into houses or parties and events. But in the middle of the forest? That was not his thing. But he was adaptable. Always had been.
He had recognized early on how things really worked in his world. His father saw it differently and his mother also tried again and again to persuade her son. Matteo realized that life on a farm was not for him. To toil day after day in the vineyards, while the sun burned down on him, year after year – no. He would rather be one of the people who were able to live in the world. He preferred to be among those to whom his father and his family brought the wine. To whom he bowed and showed respect. And feared.
These people never worked in the vineyards. They sat in the shade in front of their magnificent houses and wanted for nothing. And they drove expensive cars that gleamed in the sun. They did not know money worries and took care of everything.
Matteo was not stupid. He knew what they were and what they did for a living. Unlike his father, however, he was not afraid to tell them exactly when they asked him about it. And he knew that one way out of his already prescribed life was through them. Into a life that offered him everything he only wanted. This had its price, and Matteo was ready to pay it. Thus, he did everything that was asked of him. He never had to be asked twice.
Or they didn’t even do that, because Matteo instinctively knew what was expected of him. That’s what gave him a good life. And respect. So much respect that he was sent here alone, even though they knew he could meet several men. They didn’t do that because they wanted to send him into a trap or use him as cannon fodder. No. They knew they could rely on him. If even one had guessed... But that was another story he would help clear up. Maybe it really was time. But there was only one thing standing in the way of all that, the big plans, now. And Matteo would not allow that to happen.
Matteo continued to move forward, peeking behind each tree as he felt his tension steadily rising. This Ben was not just anyone, and certainly not a nobody. He should have killed him directly, but now it was too late. And it would cost him time. Time he didn’t have. He should have been in another place long ago.
“I’m already investing way too much time in you. We should end this now!”
“Whatever you say!” a voice suddenly rang out, sending Matteo scurrying. There he stood. Ben.
Matteo pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Three times. But no bullet hit Ben. At least Matteo couldn’t see it. But he must have hit him. Three shots? One must surely have hit his target.
Cautiously, Matteo moved forward. Slowly. Feeling too safe could very quickly lead to himself lying bleeding on his back. He was sweating. He hadn’t done that for a long time. He felt the adrenaline rushing through his body and he did not like this feeling at all.
He had not had an opponent like Ben for ages. A real opponent who challenged him. Actually, he should avoid such situations. Finish them off like he did with the four guys. He knew that they would not cause him any problems. But Ben...
Blood. There was blood on the tree. So he had gotten Ben. How big the wound was, he couldn’t say, but at least Ben was hurt now. That was at least something, even if Matteo had hoped to find him lying here.
A crash made Matteo turn around. He just saw the last of the flashlights of the now dead men go out, plunging everything into darkness. Now his own flashlight was the only one left burning. There was no other source of light.
He was starting to feel queasy. He had already competed against men who had a lot going for them. Sometimes it was a matter of taking out someone who was basically the same as he was. It was a duel at eye level, which Matteo always enjoyed. But he had never encountered anyone like Ben, with whom he increasingly had a very bad feeling. He just couldn’t judge him and wished he had had more information about him. To be able to proceed as he normally did, by first making inquiries and studying his victim closely. This would have been more than helpful with someone like Ben. Then this all would have gone very differently.
Had Ben only destroyed the flashlights or had he also taken any weapons? Matteo did not know with certainty what weapons the Russians were armed with, but assumed that there were also some firearms. Ben definitely had a knife, but what else did the four men themselves have with them? They certainly hadn’t been here without guns. If Ben now had a firearm as well...
Matteo had to leave. He had already wasted too much time here. That had not been his mission. But like so many things in this night, some things had not gone according to plan. On the other hand, he couldn’t afford to let Ben get away either. The danger of suddenly having him at his back was simply too great. He had to catch him.
Something jumped out from behind a tree directly in front of him. A figure, unmistakable.
Matteo fired. And this time he hit. He fired again and again and again. Each shot was accurate. He could see the blood and how the body shook under the bullets.
At the fifth hit, Matteo realized he had made a mistake.
By then it was too late.
He had just the chance to turn his weapon in the right direction when Ben was already standing in front of him, deflecting the barrel of the weapon away from him with one hand and ramming the knife diagonally upwards into Matteo’s body with the other and twisting it immediately. Matteo was dead on the spot and fell like a wet sack next to the corpse of the Russian, whom Ben had stripped of his jacket and shirt and used as bait.
Ben looked down at Matteo, whose frozen eyes were illuminated by the flashlight. Then he picked up the flashlight and looked at the wound on his left side. A bloody line stretched along it. A few inches more inward and he would truly have had bigger problems and would probably have been the one lying on the ground.
Finally, he shone the light on the bodies. A moment ago, he had only wanted to get the flashlights out. Now he examined them to see if the men had had any weapons with them, which was indeed the case. Each of them had a firearm and several magazines. They also had brass knuckles and knives.
Of all of them, Matteo had the most similar stature to Ben. Unfortunately, he had ruined his clothing, so he had to make do with something less suitable. At least it was black.
He also found a car key on Alexei’s body, as well as on Matteo’s. With any luck, he would have a car, which also meant he would find a first aid kit there. He had truly had worse wounds, had had to endure more pain, but he also knew that such a wound could quickly turn into something worse.
But this would not happen immediately. A basic cleaning would have to suffice, as he had something much more important to do. He had to find Anna.
13
The icy rain pelted down. Mercilessly. It was freezing cold. And the wind only made things worse.
Finn stood bare-chested and shivering. His limbs felt frozen, but unfortunately it didn’t numb the pain of the cold.
Finn staggered, but he did not fall. Not even when Erik’s blow struck him in the head against his left temple, as Erik had immediately seen Finn’s inattention and sensed an opportunity. The hit was hard and someone other than Finn would have surely have been to the ground. Finn, however, merely stumbled back, but did not go to his knees.
What was still keeping him on his feet, no one could say. The other boys, standing spellbound around the battlefield, had also lost all sense of time. No one was doing their own exercises or fighting anymore. Even the teachers were standing there watching Finn fight his sixth opponent.
He had knocked the first three unconscious. Then Odin had sent two directly against him, who fared no better. Matt and Erik had lasted the longest so far, mainly because Finn had been on the training ground since early morning, while they had only arrived at the usual time.
Erik followed suit, paying no attention to Matt, who by now seemed to be stirring again. He knew he had Finn, and he smiled inwardly. Finn might have proven that he could take a lot, but now his strength was visibly failing him. It was only a matter of time now before Erik
would knock Finn to the ground, to Odin’s satisfaction.
Ever since the incidents when Finn had not only refused to kill his dog, but had also tried to save a nigger, Odin had been anxious to get Finn back on the right track, even if it killed him. Everyone knew that Odin still thought Finn was a great fighter who merely lacked the right attitude. Either Finn finally took his place, or he would die.
Finn’s stance was unsteady. And his hemp-laced hands were shaking. He had a laceration over his right eye that was bleeding badly. So did a cracked lip and various bruises that were easy to see. But just as plain to see was what a muscular body he possessed. Yes, he would certainly make a perfect warrior one day, if he didn’t die first. Perhaps it would be Erik who now brought him death.
Again and again Erik struck at Finn, who by now could block his blows only inadequately, and hardly made any attacks himself. Erik really had him in the palm of his hand, controlling him and the fight. But battered opponents were dangerous, Erik knew that. Finn especially was not to be underestimated. Maybe today was the day when Finn really had nothing left to oppose. Maybe everything ended today, just as Finn had overcome Gunther. The invincible defeated. Maybe today was the day when finally, he, Erik, would gain the recognition of the community.
Erik allowed himself a smile, feinted with his left shoulder, and with his right arm lashed out to give Finn a blow so violent that he could no longer intercept it.
Erik’s fist shot forward like a thunderclap. He put all his strength into it, his whole body. Finn would feel like he had been hit by an anvil, if he felt anything at all after the hit.
With that fist and a similar blow, Erik had not long ago simply killed a member of an inferior race who were here to take their land and their way of life. Of course, this was different because the inferior races did not have the same physical constitution as they did and were therefore easier to kill, but nevertheless it had earned him the mark that he now proudly wore on his left forearm.
He even had the same symbol tattooed on the left side of his chest that adorned the left side of Finn’s chest. Erik wore it, however, not out of shame, but as confirmation that he belonged to this community. He felt that he belonged to it and to it alone. It was his confession that he had nothing in common with the people out there and that he belonged to his community. His pledge.
Which sign would he get if he killed Finn now? Would Odin then choose him as a new protégé? As a candidate?
All this went through Erik’s mind in a fraction of a second as he delivered his killing blow. In the same thought, he could already feel his fist hitting Finn’s face. How the nose broke in a shower of blood. The jaw. The cheekbones. Teeth breaking off or coming loose. Everything turning into a bloody pulp. The skull splintered and rammed into the brain.
But Erik’s blow was never to reach Finn’s face.
From one moment to the next, Finn’s stance had been firm again, his trembling over and his gaze focused. He dodged to the side, deflecting Erik’s blow so that he in turn could ram his elbow into his face and his knee into his stomach. Since Erik was in forward motion and focused only on his punch, it was too late for him to defend himself or tense his muscle. Thus the hits were amplified.
Already, more blows were hitting Erik, rocking his world. Instinctively, he executed the defensive modes he had trained in for so long, which simply went off without any thought, but were inconsequential here and now. Finn blocked them all, only to apply more hits and finally wrap his arms around Erik’s neck. Now it was easy for him to either break his neck or deflate him. Or both.
“Stop! Stop struggling!”
Erik only heard the words from kind of far away and then again up close, since Finn’s head was right next to his.
“Give up!”
No retreat. No surrender. No mercy.
Giving up was not an option. They had learned that from childhood. It had been literally drilled into them. How many times had he been in unspeakable pain and still had to keep going. Training his body. Doing the never-ending exercises. In preparation for the great day when the warriors and especially the Deathbringers would give everything back to the people. The great day when they would restore the old order, this time for good. Only the bravest and toughest would endure and prove themselves worthy.
No retreat. No surrender. No mercy.
“Give up!”
“No!”
Finn had him. As hard as Erik tried, Finn had a firm grip on him. He had aimed his punches right at Erik’s muscles, so they were now refusing to do their job. Erik couldn’t reach for Finn either, as Finn knew very well how to maintain his better position.
Erik clawed his fingers, his nails into Finn’s arms, but Finn would not let go. Even when he felt Finn’s warm blood running down his fingers, Finn didn’t let go.
And then Erik felt his senses fading more and more. Desperately he tried to find a foothold with his feet. But the ground was far too muddy from the constant rain. In addition, they lay, he on Finn, who had thereby the better position.
The world around Erik became first blurred, then darker and darker.
“Break his neck!” Erik heard a voice that seemed to come from far away. Odin.
Then Erik’s senses faded completely. Just before it went black, he heard only one word.
“No!”
Then his world finally went dark.
14
When Anna opened her eyes, she knew that something had gone wrong. Just a moment ago she had been in the forest and now... Yes, where was she?
Her eyelids were heavy and her head hurt. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened.
Ben.
Ben had been with her and had taken her to the forest because he thought they would be safe there. He had been able to read Mo’s code, which probably made him the only one.
She shook her head.
And then Russev’s men had shown up. It had to be them. Before she could understand or say anything, one of the men had knocked her down. And now here she was. Tied to a chair in a dirty, once white-tiled room with old pipes running through it. Everything was old and looked ready for demolition. Only the long neon tubes were new and bathed the room in a threatening, cold light. Just the impression of the surroundings sent a cold shiver down her spine.
Anna knew where she was. She had heard about this before. The old sugar factory, which had been empty for ages and for which there was no buyer. Or rather, there should be no buyer. Because Russev had a great interest in continuing to use these premises.
Buying the property would have been too conspicuous for him. So the factory remained in the possession of the bank. Any buyers were deterred by the fact that remodeling or removing the old masonry would require large investments. In addition, there were expert opinions that suggested that demolition would cause major environmental damage. Unauthorized material would have been used. All this was enough to keep most of the willing buyers away without any problem. For the stubborn ones, however, Russev had his own methods.
Now she, too, had landed here. And she knew only too well that she would only get out of here alive if someone came to her rescue.
She could not expect this from the man who was tied up next to her. Ahrend certainly looked much worse than she did. He was bleeding from a wound on his forehead and lip. His undershirt was stained with blood, as were his pajama pants.
Anna screwed up her face. Then she looked around. There had to be a way to escape, or everything would only get much worse.
The chairs could be moved, but both she and Ahrend had been attached to them with cable ties. They wouldn’t be able to get them open. And if they fell over by trying too hard, they would surely break many a bone.
On the table in front of them, their backpacks had been cleared out. Everything was still there, which was at least something. Whether it was of any use to her, she could only hope.
How much time had passed?
And how thick were the walls?
And the
steel?
She wasn’t in a basement, if she looked closely. Or was she?
Would there be a signal through here...?
Footsteps that were getting louder and louder were approaching them fast.
Now it came down to this. At least she had to buy some time or better.
She could already tell from Russev’s face that he was not pleased. With him were some of his men, all of whom would do whatever he asked at a hint from him.
Russev smiled menacingly as he looked at Anna. “Ah, Mrs. Kerkov. How nice. You’re already awake.”
With that he nodded in Ahrend’s direction and one of the men walked up to him to slap him hard across the face with the flat of his hand. This had the desired effect and Ahrend cried out.
The next moment another man came and poured an eggmer of water on Ahrend, which finally brought him round.
“What the hell...?!” he gasped. But then he remained silent, as he grasped the situation with a few glances. Then his face turned white as a sheet. “Have you lost your mind? What is this shit now?”
Russev didn’t let that rattle him. “Ah, Mr. Ahrend also honors us. How nice that we meet in person.”
Anna’s blood froze in her veins. They were as good as dead.
“What’s this all about?” Ahrend finally followed up. “Why am I here?”
Russev acted surprised. “Why are you here? Because shit is flying around our ears! Because you messed up big time! That’s why we’re here!”
Russev stood up from the table and shook his head. “Everything was going great, only then you got too greedy, didn’t you? Do you think we wouldn’t notice your side businesses?”
He walked up close to Ahrend. “Of course we did. But it didn’t matter much as long as our employees were happy and it didn’t get in the way of our business. Everything was fine. But then you became too greedy and, above all, too careless. And all of a sudden your activities threatened to be exposed, which also put our business in danger. And what did you do?” Russev snorted and spread his arms. “Well, there you see where that led.”
Ultimate Rage - Ragnarok (Thriller) Page 11