“That’d be good. We don’t have a lot of time to prepare,” Mark said.
Dirk squinted into the darkness and wished he could bring about Michael’s arrival by magic. The damned idiot wouldn’t be late, would he? Apparently, he would. Numerous scenarios shot through his mind. With great determination, he forced himself to calm down, but a certain nervousness remained, not just because another person out walking might stumble over him at any time. By means of a short stay in the hedge, he had fairly easily avoided the old gentleman out walking his aging dachshund. The dog had growled once in his direction, then trotted on.
His black pants with numerous pockets and black sweatshirt were already unusual, but the gun worn openly on his thigh would have provoked a lot of questions. Even his police identification would probably only have a brief calming effect. The street that led through the Oldesloe suburb lay abandoned in front of him. In the last ten minutes only one other vehicle had passed; otherwise, he saw only a few windows still illuminated in the houses, which stood on generous lots that hadn’t been built in an age when every square foot of land cost a fortune and was immediately developed. After a look at the building behind the hedge, he concluded that at least three modern duplexes would have fit on a single property.
A pair of headlights was quickly approaching and ended his mental excursion into the world of real estate. The car slowed and flashed its high beams before it stopped at the bus stop.
Dirk checked that it was only Michael in the car, before informing his colleagues: “Finally. He’s here.” Instead of the usual—considerably more robust—headset, Dirk was wearing an inconspicuous variant that would only be noticed if someone took a very close look, as it consisted of a skin-colored earplug and a thin wire attached at the throat. The transmission quality couldn’t compete with the usual headphones/microphone combination but was adequate and ideal for their purposes.
“It’s about time,” he said to Michael as he dropped into the passenger seat.
The private detective looked straight ahead and appeared not to register Dirk’s presence. Alarmed, he was searching for the right words when Michael’s hand shot forward so quickly that he had no chance to make a defensive move.
Groaning with pain, Dirk tried to evade the pressure of the weapon under his chin, but the headrests left him no room. “Nothing’s going to happen here before I get some answers,” Michael said. The hoarse whisper seemed to belong to a stranger, not the man Dirk had trusted to a certain extent up to this point. A mistake, it appeared.
“Have you gone insane? Right now you’re destroying your only chance of saving your daughter. Put the weapon away.” Dirk had to force himself to tune out the concerned questions from Sven and Mark, who had heard everything over the headset.
“You’re asking me if I’ve gone insane? Last time we saw each other you were running around in a suit, and now this? Who’s your dark-haired friend I’m supposed to trust? Does he have a name? Role? Damn it, I don’t even know if he’s American or German.”
“Tell him,” Mark said, but Dirk didn’t even consider exposing the identity of his friend, particularly as doing so might only lead to a time-wasting argument, and time was something they didn’t have. With determination, he fought back a flash of fear. “Give me a little room,” he said, struggling to breathe.
The barrel of the Glock was moved back a few inches but continued to point at Dirk’s head. Dirk raised a hand and rubbed the sore spot on his throat despite the threat.
“Hands on your knees, don’t get too close to your Sig, and talk,” said Michael.
“You’ve seen my identification, and Sven’s well known in Hamburg. You’re in the process of permanently ruining your relationship with the LKA,” he said, his hand still on his throat. “And I’m getting damned angry right now. Sorry, Michael, but we don’t have time for finesse.”
The edge of Dirk’s hand shot forward and knocked the Glock aside. A shot penetrated the roof of the SUV and disappeared into the night sky. Dirk’s ears rang from the boom, and cordite burned in his eyes and irritated his nose. Completely enraged, he ended the struggle with a blow to Michael’s wrist. The Glock clattered to the floor of the vehicle, between the brake and the accelerator. “If you make another move I don’t like, you’ll spend the next few weeks in the hospital,” Dirk said and took his cell phone from a thigh pocket. “Here, take this and call emergency services.”
“You want me to . . . ? My hand. You broke it.”
“Probably just bruised. Don’t make such a fuss. Have you forgotten the number? One one zero. Hurry up, we’re running out of time.”
Puzzled, Michael finally did as Dirk said. The closest call center had just come on the line when Dirk took over the call, asked to be put through to the Hamburg call center, waited, identified himself with a code number, and asked to be put through to the chief of police. At least he didn’t have to worry about waking up his boss, as he was probably already waiting nervously for news of their mission.
Tannhäuser’s deep voice came over the phone. “Mr. Richter? What’s happened?”
“Nothing yet. Mr. Kerlinski is suddenly having a hard time telling the good guys from the bad guys and is in doubt with regard to our mutual friend, who’s helping us. Any discussion would have taken forever; things will go faster if you vouch for us.”
In a few clear words, Tannhäuser assured the private detective not only that he knew the men involved but also that he trusted them entirely. “Do me a favor and refrain from further endangering those helping you. I’d hold you personally responsible. I’m already feeling a certain regret with regard to having approved this mission, because we’ve applied a very broad definition of the Hamburg outskirts to this instance.”
“Thanks, boss,” said Dirk, ending the call. “Drive,” he said, still angry because of the wasted time and insulted by the unjustified distrust. Kerlinski pressed the accelerator and turned onto a side street. “Keep to the right up ahead; the road to the left goes to some farm.”
A traffic sign announced road damage. When the all-terrain vehicle bumped over a pothole, Dirk snorted. “Slow down. Don’t risk a flat tire now.” He took a quick look at his smartphone. Thanks to a special program that was only supposed to be available to US Navy personnel, he was able to call up satellite images in real time and also view heat scans. “That’s nice. We’ve passed the first lookout man, but he’s staying in position. We have enough waiting for us up ahead.”
“How do you know what’s going on there and where the lookout posts are? What am I supposed to do? And what’s with your getup? After all, they’ll take your Sig away immediately.”
“I know; that’s the plan.” Dirk took a deep breath and ignored Michael’s doubtful look and gazed at the flat landscape to the right and left of the vehicle, which could only be seen vaguely in the headlights. But he knew that ditches extended through the first fringes of the moor. The grasses were not even knee-high and offered no cover. The criminals had chosen the site well; under normal conditions no one would have been able to approach them unseen.
With a slightly guilty conscience, Dirk thought about the fact that Stephan and Sven had considerably less pleasant assignments than he did—not to mention the SEALs. He could live with the danger, but the thought of remaining motionless at the edge of the forest or right on the moor would have been pretty disagreeable. He probably would have expected an encounter with an adder every time he heard a sound.
He ended his brooding when they had nearly reached the end of the road, and Michael was waiting for Dirk’s further instructions. “Stay very close. No solo moves. Always stay calm and do what they say. No provocations. Keep your nerves under control, Michael; you’re not going to help anybody if you flip out. We have enough men out there and have a response ready for any conceivable scenario.”
That was a lie but permissible given the situation. They had considered some alternatives, but they hadn’t had enough time to really take every possibility into consi
deration. He let Michael take a quick look at the display. “Satellite intelligence. I know where every one of them is.” That seemed to impress Michael, although once again it was only half-true. They didn’t know whether there were people in the van or how many people might be there. He took a last look at the screen. Infrared imaging revealed the positions of their enemies. Next to these, small, bright points flickered in various places; tiny GPS receivers his friends carried showed where they were. Two points very close to each other on the other side of the bridge stood for Stephan and Sven, who were holding themselves there after having passed the thoroughly bored lookout at the manor. For a moment Dirk allowed himself to think about how exhausted Stephan and Daniel had seemed; then he banished the thought. The two men knew what they could demand of themselves, and it wasn’t the first time they had pushed themselves to their limits and beyond. Mark was also hiding on the other side of the bridge and was covering them with his sniper rifle. The remaining men were in considerably less comfortable positions.
CHAPTER 21
Unfortunately, Dirk would have to do without the luxury of his smartphone and its special apps, starting immediately. He switched off the phone and stowed it in the glove compartment. Without the proper code, no one would be able to use it. After a last curve, the Green Bridge lay before them. In the light of the headlights one could see the color that had given this place its imaginative name. A man stood in the middle of the bridge, leaning against the railing and looking down at the dark surface of the water only a few feet beneath him. Dirk had to force himself to ignore the rather fat-looking man and trust the abilities of the SEALs.
In the small parking lot, which offered space for at most three vehicles, sat a van and a station wagon. Michael stopped behind the vehicles and looked at four men who formed a small group on the bank. One of them threw his cigarette into the river in a high arc.
“Headlights off. The darkness is on our side,” Dirk said. “Then get out slowly, and remain calm.”
Michael unexpectedly leaned toward him and laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
Dirk grinned before he cautiously opened the door. He had hardly stood beside the car when the barrel of a gun was pushed into his side. “Turn around. Hands on the roof, and don’t make a move.”
Dirk submitted to the search. As he had expected, he had to say good-bye to his Sig. Dirk chalked up another point for his team: the giant behind him left him his extra magazine and overlooked the backup weapon Dirk wore on the inner side of his ankle.
“Nice getup, and who are you?” asked the man, who looked as if he spent a lot of time at the gym. The question was what he could offer beyond raw power.
“My friend needs a driver for his daughter. Haven’t you ever seen the movie The Transporter? My job’s to forget everything I see here and return the girl unharmed to her mother. Well? Where is she?”
“You should have made different friends,” the giant told Dirk and stepped away from him.
The remark fit with their theory that they had no intention of releasing the girl. Nevertheless, Dirk calmly turned around. Michael was on the other side of the SUV and had also been frisked. Outwardly calm, the private detective walked around the vehicle, looked the giant over, and then turned to the two men who had said nothing up to this point. “What’s the meaning of this? I thought we had a deal?” he shouted at them.
In the darkness, Dirk could not make out any details, but the man on the right seemed to be running things. Casually, he approached, allowing Dirk an initial impression. The guy was self-confident; his short, fashionable coat and casual scarf, which were both completely out of place here, and his entire attitude indicated money. He looked Michael over in a condescending manner, then examined Dirk, pausing when he noticed his diver’s watch. He wore an ugly grin. “It’s really too bad about the watch, but it’s sure to be waterproof, right? Nice of you to come alone.”
The second man had also come closer and stowed a heat scanner in his jacket pocket, but they had counted on that. Heat-reflecting blankets were part of the SEALs’ standard equipment. “Don’t talk so much. Make them disappear.”
This, too, confirmed one of their assumptions: the grassy waters of the moor, with their muddy beds, were ideal for making one body—or, as in this case, two bodies—disappear for a long time. “Where’s the child?” Dirk repeated, unimpressed, while he revised his opinion: it wasn’t the guy who stank of money but the other who was in charge. As long as neither of them pointed a weapon at him, he was quite happy with their arrogant behavior. The giant and the considerably thinner guy who had assigned himself to Michael would be enough to deal with.
The man wearing the coat raised an index finger as if he had suddenly remembered something. “Oh, yes. The root of all evil. The child. Well, I’m not a monster. If the loving father’s prepared to sacrifice anything, including a good friend, to save his own flesh and blood, he should at least be able to take a last look at the sleeping angel.” He looked toward the van.
The guy’s talk was getting on Dirk’s nerves. Michael seemed to feel the same way. “You promised to let her go,” he said in a choked voice.
“I’m supposed to let an asset like that go? A blond, curly-haired, innocent angel? Am I stupid? The girl’s worth a fortune to the right people.”
Michael tried to hurl himself at the man in the coat, but a blow to the kidneys made him fall to his knees. The giant had struck him with his elbow. Gasping, the detective struggled to his feet. “I want to see her,” he said.
“But of course, and then it’s time to say good-bye.”
“Why? It’s nice out here,” Dirk said with intentional casualness in order to give Michael urgently needed time to calm down.
The man in the coat hesitated on the way to the van, turning around. “Do you not realize what’s awaiting you, or are you really that cool?”
“Form your own opinion,” Dirk said, listening for Mark’s instructions from the earpiece.
A sinister silence fell. For the first time, Dirk became aware of his surroundings, which he had only experienced once in daylight. Quiet splashing came from the bridge; blades of grass moved in the slight wind and cast shadows on the asphalt; a shrill peeping was heard and immediately fell silent again; something rustled near the bank; then there was a brief splashing in the water and once again the sinister silence. The ideal location for a cheap horror film.
“Dirk . . . what’s going on?” Michael asked.
“Didn’t you learn anything from before?” Dirk said, dismissing him and hoping Michael understood the warning.
While Dirk could only rely on his instinct that the girl was in the van, Mark was able to use a heat scanner that was far superior to the toys the perpetrators used. Now that the men were no longer in the way, the SEAL was sure the girl was there. That meant they no longer had to take that factor into account or engage in uncertain games.
“Nice scarf. Do you think my watch will go with it? Didn’t Daddy have enough money to buy you a Breitling?” Dirk said. As expected, the pretty boy forgot about the van and rushed over to Dirk.
“I’m going to beat the hell out of you.”
Dirk stepped aside, evading the punch. “What happened to your nice, flowery expressions, you bastard? Let me demonstrate to you what I think of child abusers.” Dirk kicked the man between the legs. With a shrill scream, the pretty boy collapsed, and he wouldn’t be getting up again for a while.
The giant, of all people, recovered the fastest from the unexpected resistance. His gun was already aimed at Michael. Dirk threw himself forward and pulled the detective to the ground. “Keep your head down,” he said while drawing his backup gun from its ankle holster.
Dark shapes rose from the flat water of the river.
Dirk had time to see the giant freeze at the sight. His gun almost fell out of his hand; then the first diver—Jake—reached him and struck him down. The presumed leader stumbled back as Fox approached. As though he were dealing with a small c
hild, the six-and-a-half-foot SEAL grabbed him by the collar and forced him to the ground. Only the thin guy sought to save himself by running away. A few silenced rounds struck the asphalt directly behind him and convinced him to stop. Then Daniel and Tom reached him and, weapons extended, demanded that he return to the parking lot.
The lookout on the bridge was successfully kept in check by Sven and Stephan and didn’t move.
The entire mission had been carried out so silently that Dirk jerked when Sven’s voice boomed out: “This is a police operation. Lie completely still. Lethal force will be used in response to any sign of resistance and any move toward a weapon.”
While the SEALs disarmed the men and bound their hands and feet with zip ties, Dirk pulled Michael, who still seemed dazed, to his feet. “It’s over. We have the situation under control.”
Mark, the only one of the SEALs who wasn’t wearing a neoprene suit, was already standing next to the van and checking the side door. With a yank, he pulled it open and looked inside.
“Are you waiting for a written invitation?” he shouted to Michael, who started moving with uncertainty and then sprinted the last few yards.
Mark’s reaction told Dirk everything he needed to know. Nothing had happened to the girl; otherwise Daniel would have been there already instead of holding his Sig out to him with an insolent grin. “Here, you lost something.”
“Very funny,” Dirk said and stowed the gun in its thigh holster. “Don’t you have any wounded you can torture, Doc?”
“No, no one who would be worthy of my attention. You didn’t like the guy in the coat, did you? If he’s unlucky, he can forget about having a family.”
“That’s good. Absolutely loathsome riffraff like that shouldn’t reproduce. I’ll bet he and his buddy still have an unpleasant surprise for us.”
“I hope you’re wrong. Good work, Dirk.”
Dirk waved this aside. “You had the hard part. Even though I knew you were waiting to go into action, I still almost had a heart attack when you suddenly appeared like swamp monsters.”
Nemesis: Innocence Sold Page 24