Lady Death

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Lady Death Page 13

by Brian Drake


  She filled two pots and returned to the kitchen for more water. Out on the balcony once again, she watered the third plant in the line, and paused. A man sat on a bench in the courtyard. She didn’t recognize him as a regular resident. The community within the building was small and she knew most of the faces. His was different. What was also odd to her was that he wasn’t fiddling with his phone. He was sitting still.

  She continued moving down the plant line. Maybe he was more comfortable being alone than she. She didn’t want to live alone, but decent guys were hard to find. Hannah filled the last pot with water. As she turned to go back inside, she stopped. The man at the bench had gone.

  Then she heard a knock at the door.

  Raven cleared his throat as he waited. He stood dead center to the apartment door’s spy hole to give Hannah an unobstructed view of his face.

  The peep hole darkened a moment before he heard her say, “Who is there?”

  “My name is Sam Raven. I need to talk to you about Tanya.”

  A sharp intake of breath; a latch rattled. The door opened but stopped when the chain above the locks pulled taut. Part of Hannah’s face appeared in the gap.

  “What about Tanya?”

  “I’m an American agent,” he said, keeping his voice low in the hallway. “Tanya is planning to kill thousands of people and I need your help to stop her.”

  Hannah’s eyes widened.

  “If you let me in, we can talk about it,” he added, “and if you say no, I’ll leave.”

  The door slammed. The chain rattled. The door opened again, and she moved back. “Hurry.”

  Raven stepped inside.

  8

  “Why were you waiting on the bench?” she said.

  “Making sure your minders weren’t watching you.”

  “The two men at the bar?”

  “I saw them,” Raven said. “They went their own way when they saw you come home. I thought they might have backup waiting.”

  Hannah Schrader dropped her head and ran both hands over her face. “He always has people watching me.”

  They stood in the entry way. Hannah turned and went into the kitchen. Raven stayed a few steps away as she filled a glass of wine. She didn’t offer him one. Hannah leaned against the counter and said, “Okay, talk.”

  Raven told her the story from the beginning to his arrival in Germany. Hannah didn’t touch her wine the entire time. She set the glass down.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  She brushed past him on her way down the hall. The bathroom door shut. Raven wandered into the living room. He blinked in surprise at the colorful decorations. He sat on the couch.

  The toilet flushed and a few moments later Hannah emerged. She grabbed her wine from the kitchen and sat across from him.

  “This has been their plan all along.”

  “What has?”

  Hannah said, “Creating a new terrorist group. I know everything! I suspect a whole lot more.”

  “Sounds like it’s your turn to tell a story.”

  “My father’s a nut. When Tanya started going out with Ahmad, he didn’t like it at first. Then he started getting ideas.”

  “What kind of ideas?”

  “After that truck attack, there was this wave of anti-Muslim sentiment through Berlin,” she said. “It didn’t last long. Couple weeks. But there were roving gangs going around attacking Muslims and I think my father was paying them.”

  “Why?”

  “Ahmad and Tamal were paranoid about being targeted,” she said. “They were doing their speaking events, right? Visiting the beer halls, trying to get people to understand not all Muslims are terrorists.”

  “I think I know where this is going,” Raven said.

  “Take a guess?”

  “Ahmad and Tamal’s families were attacked,” he said. “Somebody killed Tamal’s grandfather, right?”

  “No, it was Ahmad’s grandfather. Tamal lost two members of his family, I forget who, but after it happened, those roving gangs vanished.”

  “And your father changed his approach?”

  “He kept having Tanya, Francesca, and their boyfriends over for dinner. He kept telling the men that they needed to strike back. They needed an organization and manpower and money. He offered to supply what they needed.”

  “How did they react?” Raven said.

  “They were angry. And my father can be very persuasive. It took a few meetings, but they agreed.”

  “And your sister and Francesca Sloan went along?”

  “Especially Tanya. She wanted to help Ahmad avenge his grandfather.”

  “Did Tanya know your father had the grandfather killed?”

  “Absolutely not. She and my father were always talking about the old days of the Red Army Faction. With Ahmad she saw her chance to further the cause, or some crap like that. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “You have proof?”

  Hannah shook her head. “I think I know where to get proof. All I had at the time was suspicions. It clicked for me when two men were arrested for beating a Muslim in the street. One of them was a man I’d seen at my father’s office.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You sound like you don’t believe me.”

  “No, unfortunately, I do. It’s a lot to take in. The CIA figured it was Ahmad and Tamal’s idea to form the Islamic Union. We suspected your father might be funding them, but the idea of him manipulating the group into existence never occurred to us.”

  “He calls the Islamic Union his proxy army. Can you believe that?”

  “He gets to finish what Meinhof started and, more or less, keep his hands clean.”

  “So he thinks,” she said.

  “Tanya took over when Ahmad and Tamal died, right?”

  “She faced resistance, but my father threatened to cut off the money if she wasn’t installed. She’s his eyes and ears. She reports regularly.”

  “Where is she now?” Raven said.

  “I don’t know. But now Tanya has become this monster my father can’t stop. And he doesn’t want to! He thinks it’s some sort of achievement.” Her face softened. “But poor Fran. Tanya worked hard to convince her to go. Fran wanted to stay behind and find other ways to help, but she also didn’t want to leave Tamal.”

  “Where is this proof you mentioned?”

  “My father’s safe. At least there will be something there for you to work with. There’s an investor party tomorrow.”

  “Can you get me inside?”

  “As press officer I have to be there to talk to the media, and nobody will look twice if I’m giving a reporter a tour.”

  “Good idea.”

  Her eyes dropped to her wine. She still hadn’t touched it. Finally, she took a long drink.

  Raven could only imagine the stress she felt working with a man she knew was a monster. He admired her fortitude. It took a strong spirit to put up with the surveillance and the knowledge in her head. Never mind the suspicions. She didn’t need to dwell on suspicions when she had hard facts of her father’s wrongdoing.

  Raven said, “Who else has your father financed? I’m assuming his venture capital firm is a front for funding more than the Islamic Union.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. You’d have to grill either Sebastian Speidel or Phillip Dassler.”

  “I’ve met Speidel,” Raven said. “Who is Dassler?”

  “He handles the computers. If my father is keeping any records hidden, Dassler would be the one to hide them among the company servers. There’s talk around the office that somebody is trying to hack the servers, and Dassler is working overtime to keep it from happening.”

  Raven nodded. “My friends in the US,” he said. He smiled. “Sounds like they’re keeping him busy.”

  “Tomorrow at the party,” she said, “I can get you into my father’s office.”

  “I don’t want to put you in danger, Hannah.”

  “I’ve been in dange
r since this started!” she said. “I won’t be out of danger until my father is arrested.”

  “Hannah,” he said, “we aren’t interested in arresting anybody.”

  She swallowed more wine. She emptied the glass. “Well,” she said, “I suppose he deserves whatever he gets.”

  Raven bit off his response to her comment. He shook his head instead. The damage Hugo Schrader had inflicted was too deep to repair. The man had two beautiful daughters, the world at his fingertips. He let it all go because of leftover dreams of “the revolution”. He had no idea how lucky he was simply to have his daughters beside him. Raven knew a lot of guys who didn’t know how lucky they were yet lived with the fact that he wouldn’t be counted among them.

  Because of people like Hugo Schrader.

  “I’ll take you up on your offer,” Raven said, “but then I need to get you out of here. You won’t be able to stay.”

  “I don’t care if I never see Berlin again after this.”

  “You might,” he said. “We’ll take it a step at a time.”

  They discussed the party and how to contact each other during the festivities. She saw Raven out and he walked down the hall with a heavy weight on his shoulders.

  He lived by two rules. The first was no gun fights in public where innocent people might be hurt. He wasn’t in the business of creating more victims. His arrangement with Hannah set the stage for at least one innocent person being harmed. He wasn’t sure he could keep her shielded from the worst. Her father was a fanatic who had killed people to manipulate others into carrying out his personal agenda. Raven had come across more evil characters in his time than he cared to admit, but Hugo Schrader took the cake.

  Back in the rented Audi, Raven returned to his hotel. He had a long report to make to Clark Wilson.

  If the CIA supplied some backup, Raven decided, it might help their odds.

  He needed all the help he could get on this mission.

  9

  Hannah remained on the couch with a blank stare.

  Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions. She felt numb. There was no way to recapture the ugly truths she’d spoken. What had remained internal for so long, subject to endless debate, now took on a life of its own.

  The thought of her father not surviving didn’t bother her. The coldness of such a realization added more shock to her system. Was this a temporary feeling? He was her father; how could she not care?

  Too much damage over the years, she realized. Too much “rah-rah revolution” between him and Tanya while her objections went ignored. He’d never taken a moment to understand why she didn’t agree. He thought she was wrong; he’d tell her how wrong she was until she finally said, “Yes, Papa,” and accepted her proper place.

  No.

  What about the innocent people he’d killed? What about taking advantage of other people’s pain to make them kill for him? All in the name of an insane “cause” with no end in sight. Only more death and destruction.

  More thoughts crashed through her mind.

  How would she live after he was gone?

  Why had she really stayed?

  Fear of being alone?

  Hoping he would turn around?

  Hannah had no answers. And now it was too late.

  Her father and her sister had to be stopped.

  Raven drove down the underground parking ramp beneath the Radisson Blu. He parked the Audi and exited. A chill crawled up his neck. He opened his jacket for easy access to the Nighthawk Custom Talon under his left arm. The snout of the attached suppressor extended through the end of the holster.

  He squatted between the Audi and the car next to his and listened.

  Fluorescent lights buzzed. A hum of HVAC units rumbled above. Feet shuffled. A whisper.

  An ambush.

  Raven took out his gun and clicked off the safety. He didn’t want a fight here. The garage was a death trap and anybody leaving the hotel might get caught in the crossfire. He had to get to the surface. Lead his ambushers away from bystanders. He glanced over the trunk of the Audi. The ramp to the street looked about 50 yards away.

  The red dot of a laser sight flashed on his chest.

  Raven fired once. With no clear target, he aimed the gun at an upward angle. The snap of the suppressed .45 echoed in the concrete confines. The slug whined off a pillar. The red dot vanished. Somebody yelled. Raven broke into a run for the ramp.

  Suppressed gunfire cracked behind him. The rapid phuts filled the space. Raven’s pulse raced and he ran faster. The salvo smacked the ground, nipped at his heels, and punched through cars.

  Raven cut right, another salvo behind him. He reached the ramp and turned left, covered by walls on either side. The chilly night greeted him as he gained the sidewalk. He held the Nighthawk close to his leg to keep it hidden.

  Traffic was light on Karl-Liebknecht-Strasse in front of the hotel. He didn’t cross the street. He jammed the gun back in its holster and ran along the sidewalk. The hotel bordered the Spree River. KLS crossed over the river. As he neared the edge where the road ended at the waterway, he saw no access under the overpass.

  A glance back. Three men emerged from the underground garage. Their heads moved back and forth as they looked for him. At a break in traffic, he ran across the street. A construction zone hidden behind a cluster of trees waited. Raven reached the other side when he heard a shout.

  The building under construction consisted of a wooden frame. Building materials and heavy vehicles filled the area. Raven ducked within the trees. Shadows enveloped him. The three men dodged cars and ignored horns as they followed.

  The construction area would have to do. At least there was nobody present with the workday over.

  And now the kill team was coming to him. If he could keep the advantage, the fight wouldn’t last long.

  Raven’s shoes scratched on gravel as he ran for a forklift. A stack of two-by-fours sat on the blades of the lift. He dropped behind the wood.

  The killers fanned out through the trees. They carried CZ Scorpion EVO 3 submachine guns with the stocks folded. Each weapon equipped with a suppressor.

  Raven took out his gun and stretched out on the ground. The gap between the ground and the two-by-fours gave him a small view. He saw the legs of the killers as they closed the distance.

  He stayed still, breathing deep.

  One of the killers edged closer to the tree line. His next step would expose him as he entered the construction area. The killer stayed by the tree trunk as he scanned with his EVO 3 tucked close to his body.

  The killer put a hand to his ear. The team was communicating via wireless ear buds. He lowered his hand and put it back on the Scorpion. But he didn’t move from his position. Raven had no way of seeing where the other two were. He needed to take out the first killer, grab his weapon, and search for the other pair.

  Then the killer moved.

  He rose, bent at the waist, and stepped into the open. Raven fired. The .45 thumped in his hand. The killer dropped face first onto the gravel. Raven fired again. He eased back from the forklift, stood, and glanced around. The other pair wasn’t in sight. But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t see him when he broke cover too.

  Raven took the chance. He raced around the forklift, extended the Nighthawk to his right. No shots came his way. He reached the dead killer, grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged the man into the cover of the trees.

  Raven put away his gun. He took the Scorpion and searched the killer’s pockets for more magazines. He found two spares in the man’s jacket. They held 20 rounds and had clear plastic on each side to show the number of rounds. Raven put the magazines in his own jacket pockets.

  Raven stayed in the trees as he moved left. Street noise covered his approach. He neared the partially constructed building.

  The two remaining gunmen weren’t together. Raven watched one of the shooters looking around the scattered construction material. Where was the other?

  He stayed low and left
the trees, entering the partial building through a gap. His foot scraped on the dusty concrete floor. The gunmen ahead whirled around. He brought up his gun as Raven pulled the EVO 3’s trigger. The SMG chattered a short burst. The round stitched the gunman stomach to chest, and he fell against a wheelbarrow.

  The crash echoed. Raven ran to the fallen gunman and scooped up his Scorpion. An SMG in each hand, he pivoted left. The third gunman fired over the top of a wall. Raven rolled right as the suppressed rounds smacked the ground.

  Raven fired both Scorpions, missing as the gunman moved from the wall. Raven scrambled to his feet and charged for a gap as the gunman appeared in the opening. Raven fired. The EVO 3 in his right hand spat a burst and locked open on empty. The EVO 3 in his left fired longer before the mag emptied, and most of the rounds hit the third gunner.

  The man’s right leg and part of his gut took the blow of the salvo. Raven kicked the man’s Scorpion away as he hit the ground. His wail bounced around the partial building. Raven needed to hurry. He dropped the two SMGs and drew his .45 and shot the gunner in the head. The man lay still.

  Raven put his gun away and ran. He needed distance and time to work his way back to the hotel. Hugo Schrader had made his first move. Now Raven had to return the favor.

  10

  Sebastian Speidel drove through the archway as the automatic iron gate swung open.

  Schrader’s home sat on the shore of Lake Tegel. With its own private beach, the home overlooked Reiswerder Island, which sat in the center of the lake.

  At night, only the lights inside the house marked the property. The forest in the area was so massive it almost choked the patch of open land on which Schrader had built his home. Speidel followed the paved road. In the darkness on either side, he knew cameras followed the car. The security team inside knew of his arrival.

  Two armed men met the car at the front of the house. Speidel parked in the circular driveway and exited the car. The guards didn’t acknowledge his arrival, but instead escorted him inside. Up a spiral staircase to the second floor, the guards brought him to Schrader’s study. The old man stood by a pair of open French windows looking out into the dark. A chill filled the room.

 

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