by Mark O'Neill
"Please..we have money, valuables..take whatever you want" he pleaded, crying.
"I’m not here for your money and valuables" said Scorpion, quietly.
"Then what do you want?"
"Your identity".
Before Winkler could reply, Scorpion fired another shot, and sent Winkler to meet his dead wife.
Decker didn’t like that Meyer was going to the appointment, and she tried unsuccessfully for nearly half an hour to talk her out of going. There were too many unknown variables she argued, too many risks, and there was no absolute need for her to be there. But she refused to cancel. She said it was a long-standing engagement, and she would not let anybody down.
The venue was to be held in a private house, so Decker and Schmitz made their way over there to review the security procedures. They arrived as heavily armed security men walked in again with sniffer dogs. Civilians stood nearby, watching curiously. The crowd were mainly supportive of Meyer coming, but a few had taken the opportunity to make quick protest signs.
"What do you think?" said Schmitz, looking around.
"I think this is where he will try it" said Decker.
"You’re sure?"
"If I was him, this is where I would do it".
"Yeah well, you’re certifiable" said Schmitz. "Saying that, the Scorpion probably doesn’t have all his marbles lined up either".
"I’m going in to take a look around" said Decker, walking up to the front door.
She and Schmitz walked into the house, to a hum of quiet efficiency. Dogs sniffed the furniture, doors and windows were being reinforced, and security people stood in the back garden peering over the wall. They made their way upstairs and poked their heads into every room, and satisfied things were under control, went back outside.
"There’s nothing more we can do here" said Decker, "I’m going back to the Chancellery to try again and talk Meyer into cancelling".
"Good luck with that" grunted Schmitz, "I’ll stick around here, and make sure nobody is slacking off".
Scorpion looked at the body of Herr Winkler and realised that he could reasonably pull this off.
He had looked at Winkler’s website the day before and looked at a photo of the man. When he realised they both shared similar facial features, it was another sign to the Scorpion that the stars were lining up, and this was meant to be the place where it would be done.
Scorpion opened a small bag that he had brought with him. Inside was hair dye, coloured contact lenses, a thicker pair of glasses with clear lenses, and a beard. When he had the items on, he would have more than a passing resemblance to Winkler. At least enough to use Winkler’s driving licence as identification to get through the door.
He would not be able to get his weapon past the security cordon. Therefore, for the first time ever, he would have to find a weapon at the scene. He was optimistic he could disarm a bodyguard and take their gun. Or find something else.
This part of the plan was weak. He knew it, and walking into a room full of armed police officers without a weapon for himself was just plain foolhardy. But at this point, he really didn’t care. He was ready to put his life on the line to send Claudia Meyer straight to her grave.
He looked at his watch. A little under two hours before Meyer was scheduled to appear. He needed to hurry.
Chapter Thirteen
Decker’s efforts once again to persuade Meyer to cancel failed miserably. If anything, it made Meyer even more angry, and Decker realised there was no stopping her. Secretly, she admired Meyer’s guts, but it also irritated the hell out of her that Meyer was making her job much more difficult.
Not to mention that she and Schmitz would get the blame if Meyer was killed or wounded.
Meyer walked out of her private apartment in casual clothes - well, casual by her standards - and stood in front of Decker.
"I’m ready" she said, in a tone that practically challenged more dissent. "Let’s go".
"You realise this is the day he is going to go for you?"
"Then this is the day you step up and kill him. This is the day when I find out if you’re as good as everyone says you are".
Decker refused to rise to the bait. "As you wish Ma’am. Let’s go".
As they walked towards the car, Decker spoke into a small encrypted transmitter inside her jacket sleeve.
"Schmitz? She’s coming"
"Oh great" said the voice in her ear, "what could possibly go wrong?"
Despite the blood on the floor, the Scorpion moved the bodies of the Winklers into another room and closed the door. He threw a dark rug over the blood stains. He knew it would not stand up under close scrutiny, but it might fool people casually looking through the window. He had to cross his fingers and hope for the best.
He didn’t have to worry so much leaving the house. Now in disguise as Winkler, there was no reason why the neighbours wouldn’t think he was Winkler. As long as he acted normally, and nobody tried to engage him in conversation, he should be fine.
But of course, things never work out like that.
He barely made it to Winkler’s car, when a neighbour came out. A kindly old man, he assumed the Scorpion was Winkler, and he smiled and waved. The Scorpion smiled and waved back, hoping that would satisfy the old man. But it seemed he wanted to talk, because he started to cross the road.
"Unbelievable" breathed Scorpion, under his breath. It looked as if his luck had started to run out. He knew he would be found out as soon as he tried to say something. Impersonations were never his thing. Disguises yes, voices no. So he had to get into the car as quickly as possible. It would look suspicious if he hurried, but right now he was rapidly running out of options.
"Erwin!" shouted the neighbour, with the smile still on his face, "how are you my friend?"
The Scorpion smiled back, pointed to the car, and hoped the neighbour would get the message that the Scorpion was in a hurry with no time to talk. The old man stopped for a moment, frowned, and looked slightly offended that Winkler was not willing to talk to him. He started to move forward a bit more hesitatingly, and the Scorpion wished not for the last time that he hadn’t left his pistol inside the house.
The Scorpion got into the car, and drove off. The last thing he saw was the neighbour looking at him with a slightly baffled and upset look on his face.
Screw him, thought the Scorpion savagely. I’ll never see you again, old man.
The house was now full of people, and a loud din of people talking and children screaming filled the air. Meyer’s vehicle finally arrived via a side-street, after Decker had ordered the route to be shut down to all other vehicles. They took a circuitous route in case the Scorpion decided to recklessly attack the vehicle, although Decker knew that was highly unlikely. But at this stage, she was not ruling anything out.
Schmitz came out of the house as the vehicle approached. Some of the other residents of the street were behind the cordon, watching their leader arrived. Some faces were friendly, but the few determined to protest started shouting as Meyer’s car arrived.
Before the door was opened, Schmitz took one last look around, including the opposite rooftops. Police marksmen were on the roof, marksmen who were highly skilled, but also highly trusted. Seeing nothing untoward, he nodded to Decker in the back seat, and opened the back door.
Decker got out first, then stood in front of the back door as Meyer got out. It was then that Decker experienced her first bout of nerves. She half-expected a bullet to come whizzing through the air at any second. But to her surprise, nothing happened.
"Madam Chancellor" said Schmitz, formally.
"Lieutenant" nodded Meyer, "can I get past now to see my niece?"
"Aunty!" screamed a girl who ran out the door and into Meyer’s arms. "I didn’t think you were coming!"
"I wouldn’t miss this for the world, sweetie" smiled Meyer, "will we go in?".
As they walked inside, Decker murmured to Schmitz. "Look sharp. He’s definitely going to show. Nobody is to le
t down their guard for a single second".
Schmitz nodded, then looked around nervously. As Meyer moved into the house, Schmitz and Decker followed.
The house was the home of Meyer’s niece, who was having her birthday party today. The Scorpion knew that out of all the engagements Meyer would cancel, the one she would definitely not cancel, would be one where she would upset her eight year old niece by not turning up to her birthday party.
If there was one thing that made the Scorpion’s job a bit easier, it was that human nature was so predictable. Even if it put her life on the line, Meyer wouldn’t do anything that would paint her as the “evil aunty”.
As he was scouting out the house the previous day, he initially had no clear plan on how he was going to get in. But then the mysterious muffled voice on the phone was back, giving him the name and address of the caterer for the party and suggesting the Scorpion should go pay him a visit. He almost didn’t go - he strongly suspected a police trap at this stage. Maybe they were that desperate? But he was convinced the voice was the same voice who had given up Schäfer. If that was the case, the chances of it being the police this time were slim. He had decided to risk it.
Now that he was disguised as the official party caterer, and he was expected, he felt the rest was going to be absurdly easy. He reminded himself not to be over-confident though. The hardest part would be getting away - if he did get away at all.
But it was too late now to turn back. The catering van was approaching the security cordon. Bodyguards, armed with Heckler & Koch machine-guns held up a hand in a gesture telling him to stop.
The Scorpion’s heart thudded in his chest.
He could die today. But if he did, he would take Meyer with him.
Chapter Fourteen
The Scorpion stopped the vehicle and wound down his window.
"This is a private function" said the bodyguard, gruffly, “you need to turn around sir”.
"I’m booked for the party. I’m the caterer", said the Scorpion.
“Name?”
“Erwin Winkler” said the Scorpion, “says so on the side of the van, doesn’t it?”
The bodyguard made no comment. He merely thrust out his hand.
"Identification please".
Trying to remain calm, Scorpion removed Winkler’s driving licence from the wallet. He tried not to have his hands shaking. That would have been a dead giveaway right there. He discreetly ran his hands over his jeans to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated. Luckily, the bodyguard was too focused looking at the licence to notice.
"I’ve changed a bit since that picture was taken" said the Scorpion, laughing. “Too much nice food. Blame the wife. Too much grey hair. Blame the kids for that”.
The guard smiled, but showed no sign at letting the Scorpion through. Instead, he got his radio out.
"Sir? We have someone here at the cordon. Name is Erwin Winkler. He claims to be the caterer booked for the party".
"Is he on the approved list?" said Schmitz at the other end.
"His name is there, yes”.
There was silence for a long moment. Then "wait there Sergeant. I’m coming".
The Scorpion’s heart rate was really racing now. This wasn’t working. He expected to be waved through. He was the goddamn caterer! Getting out of here would be difficult, he assessed. He would just hit the pedal and reverse, but the guards would open up with their machine guns, and he would be cut to ribbons. He would never make it.
The front door opened and Schmitz stepped out. He walked towards the van, and took the licence from the sergeant as he walked past.
"Herr Winkler" said Schmitz, as he approached the car, "I apologise for the inconvenience, but we have a security situation here. So we need to search the vehicle. And you. Can you get out of the van please?"
"Certainly". Scorpion felt utterly naked without his gun. He knew that if they had the slightest suspicion about who he was, he would have to surrender. He would have nothing to fight with.
He got out and was expertly patted down by another guard, while Schmitz examined the driving licence. His van was also thoroughly searched. But nothing was found because there was nothing to find - except for Herr Winkler’s food.
"Thank you for your co-operation Herr Winkler" said Schmitz, "please drive through, then take your supplies to the back door of the kitchen. An agent will show you where you can set up".
"Thank you sir" said the Scorpion.
He got back into the van. He couldn’t believe it. It was actually working.
He had breached the security cordon.
Decker was starting to get a headache.
She absolutely hated children. She had absolutely no desire to have any of her own, and part of that was to do with her own horrendous childhood. But she also hated kids that screamed their heads off, who whined, begged, fought, and did the million things a child normally does.
So this party was rapidly starting to grate on her nerves. She put on her sunglasses, as if the dark lenses would successfully ward off the pain of the noise now assaulting her nerves. But she knew that the effort was futile.
Schmitz came in and looked at the foul look on her face.
"Wow" he said eventually, "I feel sorry for the Scorpion if he really does try it today. You’re really going to do him over with that look on your face".
"I’m starting to wonder where the hell he is" said Decker. "I’m so sure it’s today. I told Meyer that. If he’s a no-show, Meyer will obviously be glad, but on the other hand, she’ll question my judgment if I get it wrong. I just don’t see the Scorpion as being someone who would give up easily and run away".
"It’s too early to call things a failure, Captain" said Schmitz, "besides, cheer up. The caterer just arrived".
Decker’s eyes narrowed. “Did you check his identity?”.
Schmitz looked at her for a moment. “No Captain, I let through a complete stranger in the hope that he is a friendly enough sort of guy. Of course I checked his identification, and he is on the list of expected staff”.
“Sorry”
“This isn’t my first rodeo” said Schmitz. “Calm down. You’ll feel better when you’ve had a sandwich”.
After being allowed to enter the house by the back kitchen door, the Scorpion was directed to a corner of the kitchen, where he could prepare the food. For appearances sake, he carried a few of the sandwich boxes into the house, but when the agent in the kitchen turned his back for a moment, the Scorpion took a discreet look around.
There was a knife rack virtually right next to him, a staple in any kitchen. The Scorpion casually looked over his shoulder to see if the agent was still looking the other way, but he had turned back to look at the Scorpion.
“Anything good in those boxes?” asked the agent.
“Of course” grinned the Scorpion, “let me just get one of these knives to cut the sandwiches up and you can tell me yourself what you think”.
He casually slid one of the knives out of the rack and went to the top sandwich box, as if to open it. But as the agent got closer, the Scorpion grabbed him by the hair and with the knife, slashed him from ear to ear, almost decapitating him.
The agent gurgled as blood pumped out of his neck fast. As it landed on the floor, the agent skidded in it, and fell. The Scorpion took this opportunity to use the knife again by planting his knee firmly in the agent’s chest and ramming the knife firmly in the dying man’s heart.
There was no time to waste. He grabbed the agent’s Heckler & Koch MP5 machine gun. He did a quick examination of inside the agent’s jacket and found a holster attached to his belt. Now he had a handgun as well. Better and better.
He pulled the dead guard around the other side of the central breakfast counter, although the floor was so slick with blood now that anyone walking in would instantly know there was something badly wrong. If he was going to succeed in this, he had to kill Meyer fast, grab another weapon and shoot his way out. His chances were slim, but by now, his se
nse of reasoning was gone.
It was time to get it done. He headed for the door.
"Captain?" squawked the voice over the radio.
"Yes Sergeant?" said Decker, "what is it?"
"This may be something, but it may also be nothing. There’s a report on the police radio that a couple were found dead by their neighbour in their house".
"OK" said Decker, "that’s bad, but how does it affect us?"
"The family name was Winkler".
"I’m still not following".
"The caterer we let in the house had identification in the name of Winkler".
The colour drained out of Decker’s face.
"Where is the Chancellor?" she said to Schmitz.
"In the living room".
"It’s the caterer" shouted Decker, "the assassin is the fucking caterer".
“Get the chancellor out” shouted Schmitz, “I’ll look for the Scorpion. Schmitz to all units, the caterer is the assassin. Shoot on sight, and shoot to kill”.
Decker ran through to the living room where the adults and children were sitting and playing. Meyer was sitting on the couch with her niece bouncing on her knee.
"Ma’am, we’re going now" said Decker, hauling the little girl off Meyer’s knee, and grabbing Meyer.
"Captain.."
"No, now" shouted Decker. She gripped a hold of Meyer and turned. But as she turned, she saw a man standing there, covered in blood, and holding a machine gun.
“Gun!” she shouted, while at the same time, pushing Meyer over the back of the sofa and jumping on top of her. The sofa toppled over as they vaulted over it and it landed on top of them.
The Scorpion let off a long burst of machine gun fire which shredded the sofa. The guests and the children started screaming and crying, and dropped to the floor. One mother was shot in the leg and was begging for help.
Meyer was concussed when her head had hit the polished wooden floor, so she laid still on the floor stunned. Decker was on top, pulling her gun out from the back of her jeans.