‘You haven’t got a boyfriend.’
The suspended FBI agent blushed.
Gotcha!, Mario thought. But he felt no real elation over such a small triumph.
‘Well, what of it?’ Lenita bluffed. ‘I’ll just pick up some sexy lover boy and have fun with him all night long and every night. And you know why? Just to tell you about it and see you go pale with jealousy.’
‘That sounds you still feel something for me.’
‘Imagination is a form of self flattery.’ She hissed. And changed the subject. ‘Hey, what kind a run down area is this? If you’re trying to trick me …’
Mario shook his head while the car rumbled over the many railways tracks of the freight train station.
‘Gordon’s refuge is in the old switching center up there.’
She squinted in sudden alarm.
‘Looks deserted to me.’
‘That’s why it’s such a good hide-out.’
‘And I can see neither car nor motor cycle near or far. I’m sure this Gordon isn’t going to jump on a freight train when he needs to go into the city.’
‘I shouldn’t think so. But would you park your old heap close to where you’re hiding? No need to make it obvious.’
She nodded, partially convinced.
‘Okay, that makes sense. But if you’re trying to lead me up the garden path ...’
Mario watched the switching center carefully while he parked the Toyota a stone’s throw away from their destination. At some distance, a freight train had come to a stop or changed lines. But Mario felt certain, the AMTRAC drivers and workmen paid them little notice.
Lenita slipped from the car and waved the pistol at him with an impatient movement.
‘Pronto, amigo! You go ahead!’
Mario followed the order. When he reached the old building, he stopped before a rusty door. It was unlocked. Before them, a steep stairway led to the floor above. Would he be able to overpower Lenita?
That was the last thought in his life.
He had climbed only the first few steps, when a dry metallic sound was heard. And a split-second later, his body was torn up by a long salvo from a hidden machine gun.
35
Kea sat in a restaurant with the name Felix Pakhuis.
It was situated in a former warehouse in the Schipperskwartier in Antwerp – a modern, cool area close to the harbor with avant-garde museums, trendy bars and lots of partygoers.
Kea felt thoroughly pleased, not just thanks to the tasty salad or the ice-cold vodka, which she enjoyed while she awaited Lucia’s return.
No, she relived the memory of the euphoria of her own rush of blood.
At first, she had stiffened in fright when that sex pest had attacked her in the toilet. But then her own survival instincts had taken over. After that, everything had been so easy.
Slip off the shoe. Hit out with all strength at your command.
And she had not even cried because she had been frightened by her attacker.
No, she was scared only of her own overpowering feelings.
Now, all that lay behind her.
Kea had won something back that had been lost since her childhood in the deepest abyss of her soul.
Her killer instinct.
It seemed as if she was whole again. As if a large and important jigsaw piece had suddenly completed the image she had carried of herself.
She motioned to the waitress and ordered another Vodka.
This must be celebrated, Kea thought. She stretched her long legs and smiled. She had noticed, that several young men in business suits showed a marked interest in her. She was certain, none of them knew that they admired a real killer.
A young woman who had killed and would do so again.
I think I’m a little drunk, she realized. Despite that, she did not doubt her own feelings. The death of her young friend so many years ago could be taken as a regrettable accident. But during her attack against her opponents at the gas station she had felt grim determination. And she had wished to send the sex pest in the toilets to his grim death. A pity she had not struck him right. She swore to herself, she would not fail next time.
Kea glanced at her watch.
It seemed as if Lucia had left an eternity ago. In reality, it could be little more than quarter of an hour since she had gone outside to phone someone. Still, Kea felt no uneasiness. Lucia may have been a difficult person, but nothing was ever boring in her presence. Besides, the two of them were on a noble quest. To rescue an innocent baby – could there be a more rewarding mission?
It was worth a few dead bodies anyway, if it came to that.
Before she could indulge in yet another glass of vodka, Lucia returned to her table. Kea’s elation turned to sudden fright when Mario’s sister sank onto the chair opposite her.
Lucia looked as if she had come from a meeting with the devil himself.
For once, she looked lost and scared. Like someone who had accepted an unbearable, terrible fate.
‘What happened?’ Kea asked and reached for Lucia’s hand. It felt as cold as if life had already left it.
‘Drop it! I don’t need comforting,’ Lucia hissed. But Kea kept holding her hand and a few moments and several deep breaths later, Lucia continued. ‘I’m afraid of that filth. I could never have believed I would admit that to anyone. I know where and when Adrian shall be handed over to us. But I’m terribly afraid the whole show will go wrong.’
‘Then we must make the necessary preparations.’ Kea suggested. ‘Tell me exactly what you have found out.’
Lucia recited the telephone call with an uncertain voice. Kea listened carefully and looked at her watch again.
‘It’s still early afternoon and that leaves us plenty of time for our preparations. Let’s first take a good look at the park. Of course, we’ll have to change clothes.’
‘Why?’ Lucia asked without comprehension.
‘Who walks around the park at this time? Young mums, pensioners, joggers and office workers for a late lunch break. The kidnappers have no idea what we look like. If we dress up like a couple of Belgian office assistants eating their sandwiches on a bench, no one will take any notice of us.’
Lucia stared at the German as if seeing her for the first time in her life.
‘Damn it! You’re right. We can’t let this scum get the better of us. Sorry if I talked a lot of BS just now. And you can let my hand go.’
Kea laughed.
‘Sure. No problem.’
A short time later, the two women entered the shop of an international fashion house. There they selected two outfits that suited office workers. Kea noticed that Lucia was not exactly raving about her navy blue costume with its knee-length skirt. She would have to shave her legs.
‘Don’t get uptight about the style. It’s the perfect camouflage.’
Lucia sighed.
‘If you say so --- it seems to me you had a total change. And I don’t mean the old-fashioned glad-rags. Has the Vodka loosened your tongue?’
Kea shook her head.
‘I’m only trying to convince you that I’m not just a chain and ball around your foot.’
Lucia seemed not to find an answer to that.
After they had changed into their new outfits at the Hotel Diana, Lucia and Kea headed for the Park Noordkasteel in the Porsche Cayenne. On the way they bought sandwiches packed in brown paper bags and Starbucks coffee-to-go.
‘I’m beginning to imagine we actually work in some office.’ Kea said as they reached the park.
‘Quiet!’ Lucia hissed. ‘Or someone notices we speak neither Dutch nor French. What is this funny country anyway, that hasn’t even got its own language?’
‘You’ll have to ask the Belgians themselves.’ Kea replied laughingly. ‘But probably in Dutch nor French.’
They had not gone far when they saw the wooden bridge before them. They found a bench, sat down and acted as if they wanted to enjoy a late midday break in the sunshine. Kea glanced arou
nd surreptitiously. She could see nothing unusual, no kidnappers on the lookout for them. But perhaps she had little instinct for the type of men with whom they would be dealing. Or Adrian’s kidnappers were even better disguised than she and Lucia.
Could that young woman with the baby buggy be in their pay?
Or that athletic-seeming elderly jogger?
Lucia’s voice intruded into her thoughts.
‘To me this looks like a first class trap.’
‘Why do you think so?’
‘Do you see the lanterns? One to the South, the other on the North side of the bridge. At night, the crossing is brightly lit while the bushes along the lake are in shadows. If someone wants to take pot shots at us, he will only need to hide along there. From the bridge or this side, he’d be totally invisible.’
‘But there's two of us,’ Kea reminded her. ‘And our enemies won’t know that.’
‘Where is that supposed to lead?’ Lucia asked with a hint of desperation.
‘I can walk on the bridge and take Adrian if they bring him ...’
Lucia opened her mouth. To Kea, she seemed angry.
‘You can shoot a lot better than me. I’ve not held a pistol in my hand before today --- Just listen to my plan before you bite my head off.’
She told her companion of her ideas. It seemed as if Lucia grew calmer. When she had ended, her companion even managed a crooked smile.
‘Sure, that might even work --- right now, it’s high time we disappear. We’ll look around a little more, take a few snaps with our mobiles, and try to keep everything else in mind. And for our meeting at midnight, we definitely need other rags.’
36
Borges threw herself to the floor as Mario’s body was struck by the bullets.
The FBI agent lifted her own weapon. Despite the adrenaline that flooded her body and the panic that had risen in her, she reacted according to the training that had been repeated endlessly.
Seek cover.
Clear danger area.
Call reinforcements.
Secure your retreat.
While Mario collapsed and his blood ran down the stairs, Borges clenched her teeth.
It seemed her heart was broken, seeing this man only a few yards away, dead or dying. And yet she was unable to help him. Even if she crept to him and cowered beside him, she would be without cover. In her present position – flat on her stomach and behind a pile of railway sleepers – she was at least partially protected against the bullets of her unseen opponent.
Borges expected every moment that Gordon would appear like a madman with a machine gun in his fists.
Except that it did not happen.
After the first salvo of shots, no further attack occurred.
The silence was even more frightening. Not even the sounds of the freight trains in the distance seemed to disturb it.
Borges eyes stung.
Was it her tears or the perspiration that trickled from her forehead?
She blinked and used her free left hand to wipe her face. The right was clamped around the butt of her gun.
She reached for her Smartphone and punched in Chuck’s number. Her service partner answered almost immediately.
‘At last. Did you check your mailbox, Lenita?’
‘What? --- No, listen, I’m in deep shit. Mario Lezzi is dead or badly wounded and there is a felon or even several armed ones with automatic weapons.’
‘What have you done?’
She could hear the despair in his voice.
‘Nothing at all. --- But come as quickly as you can and bring the cavalry with you.’
She told him her position and switched off.
Her eyes strayed back to Mario’s lifeless body. It was hard to see him there, unmoving. But Borges clung too much to her own life, to attempt helping him.
Of course, she had a first-aid-kit in her car. But to reach it, she had to leave her cover and run past the old railway building.
Neither was there any way of pulling Mario to protective cover. He would be too heavy to handle. Borges was stronger than she looked, but she knew her limits.
And if she was truthful, she had already accepted that he was dead. He must have been cut down by at least a dozen bullets. Had he only been wounded, he would have been screaming as if he was being flayed alive.
But there was neither sound nor movement.
Borges fought against the sorrow that filled her.
Mario had still mattered more than she admitted, or else she would not have risked losing her job. There were too many sorry tales of agents that had joined the lawless criminals. And with that, the way back was forever barred. With every minute that went by, Borges felt more cowardly and less useful. But she was no female Rambo and with the relative limited firepower of her pistol against automatic weapons, she stood little or no chance at all.
All she could do was to keep her nerve as well as she was able. The blood pounded in her temples.
After what seemed like an eternity to her, she heard the sirens of the squad cars.
Suddenly, a Ford Crown Victoria and two unmarked GMC vans screeched to a halt.
Heavily armed SWAT-Teams jumped out of the vehicles. While one group gave cover, the other one approached the railway building. An FBI colleague threw a stun grenade into through the half open door.
Borges closed her eyes, pressed her face against the ground and clamped both hands over her ears.
Despite that, the flash of the explosion half blinded her and the sound shook her eardrums. She knew what would happen now. The special unit would storm the building.
And while all this was happening, a familiar figure ran towards Borges. She was relieved to see Jablonski. She felt like wrapping her arms around him, but he was accompanied by that Orlando, self-appointed hero and darling of anything in skirts. The guy would surely greet her with an unwanted comment, which was the worst thing she wanted to hear right now.
Despite the ringing in her ears she managed to hear her service partner’s voice.
‘Are you hurt? Do you need a medic?’
He bent down to help her get up, but she managed to rise to her feet without his assistance. Then she holstered her pistol. If there was any shooting, it would be the problem of others.
Borges shook her head.
‘I’m okay. Nothing wrong.’
‘Except for your senses.’ Orlando quipped. ‘What are you doing here? You’re suspended, or have you forgotten?’
Jablonski opened his mouth as if to defend her. But Borges was quicker.
‘While you were twiddling your thumbs, Mario Lezzi managed to escape from the madhouse.’ She fired back. ‘If I hadn’t been there in time, you’d be running around like chickens now, looking for him.’
Orlando nodded slowly and pretended to cast a look around.
‘Aren’t we a little far from the psychiatry in Manhattan? How did Lezzi manage to drive all the way from the hospital? You didn’t by any chance give him a lift in your car, instead of calling us right away?’
Borges pressed her lips together. She had no intentions of being lectured by a macho type. She ignored him and instead turned to Jablonski.
‘I couldn’t contact Field Office. There wasn’t enough time. I had to make up my mind on the spot. Mario promised to bring me to a certain Gordon, where his sister was supposed to be hiding. In that place over there.’
Jablonski pointed to the corpse that had been inspected by a medic of the special unit. The man shook his head. But one had to possess no medical knowledge to realize that Mario Lezzi was no longer alive.
‘And when Gordon realized that Lucia’s brother had lumbered him with an FBI agent, he turned the traitor into a sieve.’ Orlando allowed his imagination to run riot.
Before Borges or Jablonski could react to that assumption, the SWAT commander left the building and headed towards them.
‘My people have secured the building. There is no one inside,’ he reported. ‘But we discovered an automatic f
iring contraption of a most bizarre kind. The magazine of the gun is empty. I assume most of the bullets will be recovered from his body.’
He nodded towards the dead man.
‘Why do you find the firing contraption so unusual?’ Jablonski asked.
‘It appears the shots were initiated through a computer program that activated the trigger of the automatic weapon.’
‘A remote control system, you mean?’ The big FBI agent dug deeper.
‘That’s what we thought at first but I don’t think it is. It rather looks as if some artificial intelligence decides whether to fire or not. I hope the lab rats will tell us how the whole system works.’
‘Have you got any indication where this Gordon may be found?’ Borges asked.
The commander shook his head.
Jablonski offered him his thanks before he turned to Orlando.
‘I want to have a talk with Borges. Alone.’
His new partner grinned slimily.
‘Ain’t love grand, man? … Okay I’ll wait for you in the car.’
Borges’ poisonous look followed him as he sauntered away.
‘What a creep!’
‘I know … It must have been tough for you to see Mario cut to pieces before your eyes.’
She nodded slowly. ‘I thought I had long lost any feelings for him. But he was good for both of us at that time. I don’t know whether you can understand that.’
‘All I know is that you wanted to arrest Lucia Lezzi. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, right? Mario was supposed to lead you to her.’
‘Right, and I was convinced that murderous killer was hiding out with Gordon. Mario seemed to think the same. Otherwise, he would never have marched blindly to his death.’
Borges fought against her tears while despising herself. Luckily Orlando was out of earshot.
‘Your secret is safe with me,’ Jablonski reassured her. ‘Once we catch Gordon, Lucia and Kea, the old man will ignore your independent action. But I’d like to know what Lucia Lezzi is up to right now.’
37
Kea could think of Tom without bursting into tears.
She had begun to see her friend in the true light. She would never be able to forgive that he earned his money through the kidnapping of innocent children. That alone prevented her from grieving for him.
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