The people around her were on their feet, filing down the aisle, hefting bags, struggling into coats and scarves and gloves. Outside, more people moved past her window. The train had stopped. They’d arrived. The antique bricks and steel of Waterloo Station were visible above the crowds. She’d slept all the way to London.
Still feeling dopey, she got to her feet, grabbed her stuff from the overhead luggage rack and joined the crowd on the platform. The outside of the train was wet and, looking back along its length to where the platform ended, she could see grey sheets of rain billowing across the snaking rails. She pulled her coat around her and tried to ignore the cold. Reaching the broad concourse, she headed for the underground. A taxi would have been easier but she needed to conserve her money. She took the Bakerloo line to Oxford Circus and emerged, flinching from the driving, icy rain, into a pandemonium of shoppers and traffic. Oxford Street ran straight and gaudy into the rain ahead of her and she set off along it. She needed clothes for tonight. Snoopy had been a pushover last night, but the bouncers had almost not let her into the club when they saw how she was dressed. In the end, their standing orders to admit beautiful girls—and her insistence that they tell Snoopy his old friend Patty was being made to wait outside in the cold—had persuaded them to wave her in.
Snoopy really had seemed pleased to see her and didn’t try to paw her and get her into bed as she had imagined he would. His status in the neighbourhood had risen considerably since he’d got out from under Buzz’s shadow, and he was now something of a minor gang boss, putting the organisational and destructive skills he’d acquired as a brick to good use. He had treated Sandra with courtesy and respect—which, she gathered, was part of his new image—and was happy to tell her everything he knew about the highly criminalised, post-Ommen underworld of timesplashing.
It was Snoopy’s recommendation that she go to London to see a brick calling himself Flash.
“He’s the biggest there is, these days,” he had said with a trace of nostalgia. “If you’re looking to hook up with the top dog, Flash is your man.” She hadn’t told him why she was so interested in big-name bricks but he could think whatever he liked, as long as he helped her. Besides, the last time he’d seen her, that’s exactly the kind of girl she was.
She bought the best cocktail dress she could afford and a pair of slingback heels to go with it. She still had enough money for a cheap room and, she hoped, a hairdo. But that was it. After today she was broke and had no idea what to do about it. All she knew was that she would walk, swim or crawl if she had to, to get to Sniper and kill the evil bastard.
Chapter 10: Berlin
It was a tense meeting. The conference room seated ten and it was filled to capacity. At the head of the table sat Bauchet, his right-hand man, Colbert, sat beside him, as did his PA, Marie. There were also two Chief Inspectors, four Detective Inspectors and Acting Detective Constable Jay Kennedy.
Jay was the only one standing. He had just given the room a run-down of his evidence connecting a spurious shipment of F2 generators in Dover with the infamous brick, Sniper, and his uberteknik, Klaatu. He had concluded with his reasons for believing the two of them were now based in Berlin.
Bauchet thanked him and took the floor himself.
“It is a tenuous thread, is it not, mesdames et messieurs? But I would like to give it a tug and see what is on the other end. It may be nothing at all. It may be there really is something serious going on but that its connection to Berlin is an illusion. Or it may be that one of our most important capital cities is about to be devastated the same way Beijing was.
“I confess, I don’t find the evidence as convincing as Detective Kennedy seems to, but I find it convincing enough to think we should look a little closer. Any comments? Any questions?”
The room immediately became a hubbub of both comments and questions—most of them directed at Jay. Playing the role of chairman skilfully, Bauchet controlled the flow of the debate for the next thirty minutes or so, by which time the meeting was in unanimous agreement with his assessment.
“Very well,” he said at last, calling the meeting to order. “I want a team to fly out to Berlin today. Chief Inspector Kappelhoff, I’d like you to put a team together. Have a list of names on my desk in one hour for approval, please. Make sure Detective Kennedy’s name is on the list. Liaise directly with the Berlin police and any other authorities you need to. Any issues about jurisdiction, bring them to me. Remember, although Europol’s brief has traditionally been coordination and liaison, the TCU is different. We may act directly whenever we so choose, local police and intelligence agencies have been instructed to give us whatever cooperation and support we need.”
He looked straight at Jay for the first time since he started speaking. “Let’s hope you haven’t sent us on a wild goose chase, eh?”
* * * *
“So what’s going on?”
Jay looked up to find Joe in the act of perching himself on Jay’s desk.
“I haven’t got time for a chat,” Jay said. He was uploading data from the main grid into his personal net. “I’m on an assignment and I need to get home and pack right now.”
“Assignment, eh? Is that what the big meeting was about earlier on? Where are you going?
What’s all the excitement about?”
Jay gave up the struggle and stopped trying to ignore the young Spaniard. He turned to face him. “There’s a team being put together. We’re going to Berlin. It’s possible that Sniper and his crew are there plotting a gigarange timesplash.”
“Sniper, eh? And you’re on this team, then?”
Jay couldn’t help doing a bit of bragging. “I was the one who worked it out—while you were at the pub last night.” Having a laugh at my expense, he thought. “Now, I’m sorry but I really must be—”
“Better get a move on, Kennedy,” said Colbert, passing by the desk. “Chief Inspector Kappelhoff is holding a briefing at fifteen hundred. You need to be packed and ready to go by then. You too, Joe.”
“Yes, Sarge,” they said in unison, as the Frenchman walked away. Jay looked at Joe with his mouth open.
Joe gave a little shrug. “I’m packed already. What’s taking you so long?”
“You bastard! You knew. And you wangled your way onto the team somehow.”
“I don’t know this word ‘wangled,’ but if it means my value to the operation was recognised, then I suppose that’s what happened.”
Jay closed his mouth and set his jaw. What was the matter with this guy? Why was he plaguing him like this? He was about to say something about how Joe had better keep out of his way when Joe cut him short by laughing at him.
“Oh, come on, Jay-Kay. Don’t be such an uptight English prick. It’ll be great, you and me on the town in Berlin! We’ll have a ball! Where’s your sense of adventure? Where’s your sense of fun?”
“Fun?” It was all Jay could say. He was practically speechless. “Fun?”
Joe nodded, grinning. “Sí. Fun. You know fun? It’s what you used to have before they fitted that broom up your arse.”
Jay stood up to confront his tormentor. Joe stood up too, backing away a step in mock alarm.
“There’s a gang of screwed-up killers in Berlin,” Jay said, grinding out his words. “They think its fun to kill and destroy. They think it’s clever. They think the more damage and suffering they cause, the more they’ll be admired.” He glared at Joe, glad to see the guy’s grin was faltering.
“I’m going there to hunt them down and stop them. I’ll arrest them if I can and I’ll kill them if I have to. I’m not going to Berlin for ‘fun.’ I’m not going there to pick up chicks and get drunk and brawl in bars. I’m going there to do my job, to put my life on the line, to stop those maniacs before they wreck the whole fucking world. That’s why I’m going. I’ve got something serious to do and I don’t want to play with you. So why don’t you get off my back and find someone else to annoy.”
By now, everyone nearby was st
aring at them. Jay continued to glower at Joe, who was looking angry and confused. To Jay’s amazement, he saw hurt in Joe’s eyes too. The young Spaniard looked around at the expectant faces staring at him, everyone waiting for his reaction, and Jay saw his would-be friend take control of himself. The smile came back to his face, just as big and bright as ever.
“Okay. Be like that, Jay-Kay. It’s your loss if you can’t enjoy yourself a little now and then.”
He turned away with a big “what can you do?” gesture to the room at large. Furiously, Jay grabbed his bag from under the desk and stomped off home to pack.
* * * *
Sandra waited in the shadows. She had been there watching the club entrance for three hours. She was bitterly cold, so cold she thought she would have to give up soon or she’d be too numb to move or speak. Yet another limo pulled up in front of the club, and the driver got out and walked around to the kerbside rear door. She watched with desperate hope as one leggy blond girl and then another slid elegantly from the car’s dark interior. She sized them up automatically. Both were beautiful, but neither was too beautiful.
A man in a stylish suit came out next and the blondes attached themselves to his arms. He was a tall good-looking man with a vid-star smile and long, wavy hair. He was about the right age—early twenties. That and his arrogant, self-confident bearing revealed him at once as the man she was looking for.
She stepped out of the shadows and began walking toward him. A heavily built bodyguard had emerged from the car. Now he took up a position in front of Flash and his blondes as they walked the short distance to the club entrance. Sandra hurried a little. No one had noticed her yet. By the time the bodyguard’s eyes flicked her way, she was too close for him to do anything about it. She stepped directly into Flash’s path and everyone had to stop. She looked into Flash’s eyes and smiled. He looked back at her with startled blue eyes that showed fear for a moment before switching to irritation, mixed with curiosity.
“Hello, Flash,” she said. Her dress fitted her beautifully, and she felt a surge of confidence as she saw his eyes slide quickly down her body and back up to her smile. “I’m Patty.”
There was only curiosity in his expression now as he recovered his equilibrium. “I don’t think I know you,” he said, cautiously.
She smiled invitingly. “You could if you like.”
Now it was his turn to smile. He turned to the blondes, one by one and said, “Why don’t you two go on in with Ravi? I’ll be along in a moment.” The girls were not happy. One of them scowled openly at Sandra, but they did as they were told and followed the bodyguard in through the doors. Flash and Sandra were alone in the street, the club bouncers watching from the doorway.
“What did you say your name was, love?”
“Patty.”
“I’m not short of women, Patty. So what’s the deal?”
Sandra had hoped for a rather warmer welcome than this. She could see he liked the look of her but it wasn’t enough. The way bricks were being hunted now had made them all so damned cautious. She needed to find something more alluring than just the promise of sex.
“I’m a friend of Sniper’s,” she said. “I used to be his bitch.”
That got his attention. He studied her more closely. She could almost hear the wheels turning in his pretty blond head.
“You were there on the Ommen splash,” he said, slowly. “I remember you from the vidlogs. Did he send you?”
She smiled again. “I’m not his bitch any more.”
“Then why…”
She stepped up to him. She was a tall woman but even in her high heels she had to look up into Flash’s face. “You know, I’m freezing out here.” She opened her coat wide so he could look down past her cleavage to the dress, which was lightly caressing her curves. “I don’t have a lot on.” In fact, all her muscles were tensed as she struggled to stop her shivering from showing.
“Then let’s go inside where it’s warmer,” he said and led her in, the bouncers politely opening the doors for them.
The staff greeted Flash like an old friend, leading him to his own table in a raised area of the floor that seemed to be better appointed than the rest, less crowded, better attended by the smartly uniformed staff. Her coat was discreetly whisked away, and some functionary or other murmured his welcomes and wishes for the enjoyment of her stay as she and Flash crossed the room. Sandra had expected nothing less. She had been used to this kind of treatment when she was with Sniper. She was more interested in the warmth of the room and the relief that flooded her as her shivering slowly subsided. He put an arm around her shoulder as they reached the table and she moved against him, her body remembering the role.
“Everybody,” Flash said to the two blondes. The bodyguard was at the table too but discreetly separated from the rest and obviously not included in the address. “This is my special guest, Patty. I want everyone to be especially nice to her.”
Sandra smiled graciously and took a seat beside Flash. The blondes looked put out and confused, but their consternation was clearly their own problem and no concern of Flash’s. When Flash asked, Sandra ordered champagne and settled in for a long night.
Three other men joined them later—another brick and two tekniks—along with a couple more women. The club played late twentieth century music and Flash was talkative and entertaining. Having eaten nothing all day, the champagne went straight to her head and she enjoyed the lovely woozy feeling of being half-drunk in a crowd of people who were just having fun. Flash held Sandra close to him, and she remembered how good it felt to be held by a strong, confident man. After all the fear and stress of the past few days, she was happy to relax into the safety and comfort of this stranger’s arms. In fact, she began to wish she could stay there. Flash seemed okay. He’d been nice to her and he was very good-looking. Maybe she could stick around with him and be his girl? She was pretty sure he’d want to take her to bed that night. It was something she had been prepared to do for the sake of getting to Sniper. Now she began to think it might be nice.
When someone took out a little silver pillbox full of tempus and passed it around the table, she gladly took a couple herself, popping one in her mouth and washing it down with champagne, putting the other in her handbag for later—a habit she’d got into when she’d been living on the streets and making her first entrance into the splashparty scene. When the first rush of euphoria hit her, she ran her hand up Flash’s thigh and whispered in his ear, “Take me home and make me your bitch.”
He smiled back at her, his eyes bright, having dropped a couple of tabs himself. A thrill went through Sandra, knowing she’d be his. “Soon,” he promised her, his large hand stroking the curve of her hip. “The night is still young.”
One of the blondes leaned across—the other one had disappeared somewhere—and said,
“Why don’t we make it a threesome?” She put a hand lightly on Sandra’s thigh and pushed up the hem of her dress.
Sandra looked into the woman’s lovely, smiling face and thought, Why not? It might be fun. But her head was full of the anticipation of how Flash would take her, ravage her body, how she would surrender to his strength and be his bitch. She ran a hand over his chest. “Just me tonight,” she told him. “We can play about later, but tonight I want to give you something special.”
Flash turned to the blonde with a look of mock regret and shrugged helplessly. “I’ve a feeling Patty here is all I’ll be able to handle tonight, love. Sorry.”
The blond pouted but didn’t argue.
“You won’t regret it,” Sandra murmured into his ear.
Her head was reeling; her body felt like it was floating. At some point in the evening, she got up to dance. She had always danced well, and the tai chi training she had done lately had made her even more supple and sinuous. A group of strange men gathered around and danced with her, but she kept her eyes on Flash and Flash kept his eyes on her.
When Flash took her home to his luxurious apartmen
t in Chelsea, she was dizzy with happiness. She had drunk more and taken more tempus from the little silver box and she was as high as she could ever remember being. But, most of all, she was full of the joy of having found this strong, powerful man who would keep her safe and give her a home and adore her and make love to her with ferocious need.
They fell into bed, tearing off their clothes, and Sandra yielded her eager body to his, adrift in a sea of whirling, surging pleasure.
* * * *
Jay woke early, wishing he could go back to sleep.
Yesterday, by the time the team had been assembled and they’d got themselves to the airport, Marie had had to shift their reservation to a much later flight. So they arrived in Berlin too late to do anything except go to their hotel, check in, disperse to their rooms, and reassemble in the bar for a bout of desultory and joyless drinking that even Joe’s extravert bonhomie could not enliven. Like Jay, most of them went to their rooms late, watched vids, and read the novels they’d packed until exhaustion overcame them in the small hours.
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