The Aggrieved

by Brett Battles

  He returned to the barn.

  Jar had been able to get Daeng up, but he was still leaning heavily on the chair.

  “Dehler?” Daeng asked. “Is she—”

  “Don’t worry about her.”

  “Nate, you…you…”

  “I said don’t worry about it. Now come on.”

  Each taking a side, Nate and Jar all but carried him to the door. There, Nate propped Daeng against the wall while he made sure the way was still clear, then they helped Daeng the rest of the way to the SUV.

  Getting Daeng into the vehicle proved to be the most difficult part. Nate had to climb in through the side and work Daeng into the cargo area a little bit at a time.

  Once they were all in and the doors were shut, Nate started the engine. “Find us a doctor.”

  DEHLER AND REISER came thundering down the stairs to find Morgan, Keller, and four of Keller’s men sitting around the dining table, laughing and talking and watching a TV blaring an American movie of some kind.

  Morgan was the first to notice Dehler and Reiser, and jumped out of his chair. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why is someone using one of the cars?” Dehler asked.

  Keller glanced over at the credenza where the monitors displaying the security camera feeds were located. “What are you talking about? No one’s going anywhere. The vehicles are right there.”

  Dehler glanced at the monitors. Sure enough, the feed of the parking area showed all three vehicles sitting there, empty. She moved over to the window and pulled back the curtain. The van and one of the SUVs were exactly where they were on the camera feed, but the taillights of the second SUV were heading down the driveway toward the main road.

  She looked back at the monitor. No change. “You idiot! Someone hacked your system and took one of the SUVs!”

  She started toward the front door, but Reiser grabbed her before she could open it.

  “It could be a trap,” he said.

  “Stay here,” Morgan said. “We’ll check.”

  He and two of Keller’s men went outside. Those who remained inside grabbed their guns and moved between Dehler and the door. While they waited, Dehler paced the living room, certain the end of her life was near, and all because an errant shot in Jakarta had hit Quinn’s sister.

  Scheisse, scheisse, scheisse!

  Being punished for that was totally wrong. People died in her and Quinn’s business all the time. If Quinn had been so concerned about his sister’s life, he shouldn’t have had her there in the first place.

  He was at fault for her death.

  And what about the woman who’d tased Dehler?

  She should share some of the blame, too. If the electrified needles hadn’t hit Dehler when they did, Dehler’s shot would have sailed true and Dima would be the dead one. Though Quinn might not have been happy about that, either, he certainly wouldn’t be out for vengeance.

  Scheis—

  The front door opened and Morgan reentered. “Whoever it was, they’re gone, and they took your prisoner with them.”

  Dehler wanted to scream in frustration.

  “What about my men?” Keller asked.

  “Incapacitated,” Morgan said. “We might be able to catch up to whoever did it if we leave now.”

  “Are you kidding?” Dehler said. “Go after them? Forget that. I’m getting out of here.”

  “Our arrangement is only to protect you while you’re here,” Keller said.

  “That’s fine. I don’t need you anymore. You’re released. Reiser, get the van keys. We’re going!”

  As she started toward the door, Morgan fell in behind her.

  “No,” she said. “Just your boss. You can go back to Munich.”

  Morgan looked at Reiser, who started to say something to him, but Dehler didn’t wait to hear what it was and instead headed out to the van and climbed in. When Reiser slipped into the driver’s seat a minute later, he was alone.

  “You’re sure you don’t want the others to come along? It might be safer.”

  “The more people, the slower we are. That’s not safer in my book. Now get us out of here.”

  Looking less than convinced, Reiser turned the key.

  Nothing happened.

  He tried again. Not even the click of the starter.

  “What’s wrong?” Dehler asked. “Let’s go. Let’s go.”

  A third try yielded the same result.

  “The engine’s dead,” he said.

  The bottom dropped out of Dehler’s stomach. Hoping she was wrong, she said, “We’ll take the SUV. Get the keys.”

  Instead of returning to the house, though, Reiser opened the van’s hood and did the same with the SUV. “The battery wires are gone.”

  “You mean disconnected?” Dehler asked.

  “No. Gone.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  THEY WERE HIGH above the west coast of Ireland when Quinn received a text from Nate, directing them to Vienna, Austria. His reply:

  Acknowledged. Did you find Daeng and Dehler?

  Nate’s follow-up left something to be desired.

  Tied up right now. Daeng’s safe.

  Fill you in on the rest when you get here.

  The next text came in on Orlando’s phone as they were coming in for a landing. This one was from Jar, informing them where they could find the car waiting for them, and providing the address of where they were to go.

  The address belonged to a large apartment building in the Simmering district of south central Vienna.

  While Quinn parked, Orlando called Nate.

  “We’re here,” she said, then listened for a moment. “Okay.” She hung up. “They’re in apartment 253.”

  When they stepped out of the elevator on the second floor, they spotted Nate standing outside a door three-quarters of the way down the hall, waiting for them.

  “Steady,” Orlando whispered to Quinn as they approached.

  Quinn wasn’t sure what she meant at first, but then realized his anger had been growing with each step he took toward his former apprentice. He tried to relax, but it was no use.

  “What are we doing here?” he asked Nate, his tone not as sharp as it would have been a few seconds earlier, but not as calm as it probably should be.

  Nate pushed the door open. “Come inside.”

  Quinn had been expecting a safe house, but what he found instead was a medical facility. What would have been the living room was set up as a waiting room, with a desk where a nurse sat engrossed in her computer. Along the back wall were three closed doors.

  Nate led them to the one marked with the number two, and pushed it open.

  Jar and an older woman in a white coat were standing next to a bed on which lay Daeng, his face and neck battered and bruised. The rest of his body was covered by a sheet. An IV stand and several monitoring machines stood vigil nearby, each with lines leading to Daeng.

  “Did Dehler do this?” Orlando whispered as they approached the bed.

  “Yes,” Nate replied.

  Now that they were close, they could see that not only were there bruises on Daeng’s face, but cuts, too—on his nose, above his left eye, and one that had needed stitches along the right side of his chin.

  “How bad is he?” Quinn asked.

  The woman, clearly a doctor, took this as her cue. “Concussion, three broken ribs, a punctured lung, a fractured left femur. He had some internal bleeding but we dealt with that when he arrived.”

  “This is Dr. Krantz,” Nate said.

  There were nods of greeting but no handshakes.

  “Is he going to be all right?” Orlando asked.

  “He’ll live, if that’s what you’re asking,” Krantz said. “But he’ll be hurting for a long time. And you never can tell with a concussion. He may never get over that.” She wrote something on the computer tablet she was carrying, and then put it in the oversized pocket of her coat. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  Once she was gone, Quinn said, “How did you get
him out?”

  Nate recounted what had gone down at the farmhouse.

  Though a small voice in the back of Quinn’s mind lamented the fact Nate hadn’t grabbed Dehler while he had a chance, he knew Nate had made the right call.

  “It took us forty minutes to get here,” Nate said, “and another thirty getting Daeng sorted. By the time I went to check if Dehler was still at the farmhouse, it had been nearly two hours and the vehicles were gone.”

  “So close,” Quinn muttered.

  Nate wasn’t sure whether his partner was talking to himself or him, but he responded anyway. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I wasn’t asking for an apology,” Quinn snapped.

  “Calm down, both of you,” Orlando said. “At least we know her name now. And she’s on the run. That makes people sloppy. We will find her.”

  “I have an idea about that,” Nate said.

  Quinn looked at him.

  “Reiser,” Nate explained. “We go at him hard this time. We find him, we’ll either find her or he’ll tell us how to get to her.”

  “Excellent idea,” Orlando said, her tone buoyant. “See, we’ve already got a plan. She’s not going to get away.”

  Quinn looked skeptical but kept his mouth shut.

  DEHLER KNEW SHE had a problem.

  More than one actually, but first things first.

  She needed to find a hole so deep no one would ever find her in it, and to do that she needed to shed anything that could compromise that.

  Which meant Reiser.

  They’d fixed the vehicles by replacing the stolen cables with ones stripped from an old generator in the barn. Dehler and Reiser had then headed to Vienna, where they’d abandoned the vehicle six blocks from Vienna Central Station. What the others did, she didn’t know or care. All they could divulge if they were apprehended was that she’d been with them but had left, and they didn’t know where she’d gone.

  Across the street from the train station, she said, “This is where we part.”

  “Part? I thought you wanted me to come with you.”

  “I wanted to save your ass, is what I wanted to do. Quinn may want me, but if he hasn’t already learned you were on the Kassab job, he will, and when that happens, he’ll want you, too. You need to lay low until this blows over.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, obviously lying through his teeth. She knew he wanted to get away from her. He’d oozed the desire during the entire ride to Vienna.

  “I appreciate your concern, Karl, but we both know it is.”

  He took a few moments to transition from an act of worry to one of reluctant acceptance. “I guess. If you think it’s for the best.”

  “I do. Thank you.” She smiled.

  He held out his hand and she shook it.

  “There is something I’d like to give you, if you wouldn’t mind,” she said.

  “Give me?”

  “A token of my appreciation.”

  “I don’t need anything,” he said, though she could see the greed in his eyes.

  “I insist.”

  “Well, I don’t know. I guess. If you insist.”

  “The thing is, Karl, I don’t think it would be safe for you to go back to Munich just yet. And that’s my fault. You wouldn’t be in the crosshairs as much if I hadn’t called you.” Another lie. She’s the one who wouldn’t have been in this mess if Reiser hadn’t connected her with Kassab. But she smiled as she pulled out her phone, opened her messages, and typed in a text. After hitting SEND, she said, “That’s for you. It’s someplace you can stay at for as long as you need. My treat.”

  “Oh,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. “That’s not necessary. I have places—”

  “Please. It’ll make me feel better knowing you’re okay. I’m sure you’ll like it. Have you heard of the Jude Iris Hotel in Zurich?”

  Reiser’s eyes widened a bit before he could control himself. The Jude Iris was a legendary boutique hotel, known for its lavish amenities. And for those in their line of work, it was also known as a safe haven.

  “When you arrive, ask for Peter Dubach. Tell him you’re a guest of number seventeen.”

  Reiser’s brow creased. “That’s it? Seventeen?”

  “Yes. He’ll know what to do.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “Well, okay, then. Thank you.”

  “And for your help these past twenty-four hours, I’ll transfer fifty thousand euros to your account as soon as I’m settled.”

  “That’s very generous,” he said. There was no you don’t need to do that this time.

  She pulled three hundred euros out of her bag and held the bills out to him. “For your ticket.”

  He shook his head. “Keep it. You may need it later. I can take care of the ticket.”

  She waited a couple of seconds before lowering her hand. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  She glanced past him at the station. “There’s still time to make the first train to Zurich. If you do, you’ll be there in plenty of time for dinner.”

  “Thank you again,” he said.

  She opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for everything.” This was mostly not a lie. He had done much for her over the years, and she was truly appreciative of that. Not enough that she could forgive him for getting her tangled up in this mess, though.

  She watched him until he entered the station and disappeared. She fired off another text, this one to Peter Dubach at the Jade Iris Hotel.

  Sending you a package. 17.

  After slipping her phone into her pocket, she headed back in the direction they’d come. It was time to vanish.

  “I FOUND HIM,” Orlando announced.

  They had reached the outskirts of Vienna, and were only about fifteen minutes from the hospital.

  “Already?” Quinn said.

  “The idiot walked straight into Vienna Central Station and boarded a train a few hours ago.”

  “With Dehler?” Quinn asked.

  “If she was there, she somehow avoided the security cameras. And there are a lot of security cameras.”

  “So no, then.”

  “Yeah, no.”

  Quinn looked at Nate. “You should have had the station watched.”

  “By who?” Nate shot back.

  “You could have found someone. They didn’t even need to be in Vienna. All they would have had to do was watch the cameras.”

  “I was a bit preoccupied.”

  “That’s not an excuse. You can’t—”

  “Hey!” Orlando said. “Stop it. That’s not helping.”

  Nate tried to reel in his emotions. Yes, Quinn’s accusation had angered him, but most of that anger was directed inward. He should have had someone watching the station. And the airport, too. But all he’d been able to think about earlier was Daeng.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Quinn looking out the window, his expression still hard. Nate wanted to say something to ease the tension, but he couldn’t think of what.

  Instead, it was Quinn who spoke next, but his words were directed at Orlando. “Where’s Reiser going?”

  “I’ve got him on camera at a ticket kiosk at 5:37 a.m. Give me a minute and I should have a destination.”

  They dipped back into their uncomfortable silence.

  Twice, Nate almost said, “You’re right. I should have.” But each time he hesitated too long and lost the momentum. It didn’t help that Quinn didn’t seem to be backing down. Irritation radiated from him like a kiln set on high. Or maybe Nate was just projecting.

  Crap.

  “He’s ticketed through to Zurich,” Orlando said.

  “Which means he could hop off anywhere before then,” Quinn said.

  “I’ll check the stations along the line. See if he’s still on board.”

  More of the dreaded quiet as Nate navigated through the city. By the t
ime Orlando completed her search, they were a block from the private hospital, looking for a place to park.

  “He hasn’t gotten off yet,” she said.

  “If he is going to Zurich, how much longer will it take?” Nate asked.

  “About six hours.”

  “A flight can’t be much more than an hour.”

  She consulted her computer. “Just a little over. The next direct one is at 1:10 and arrives at 2:30, which will be cutting it close, but someone could still get there in time.”

  “Book it,” Quinn said.

  “Who’s going?”

  Simultaneously Nate and Quinn said, “I am.”

  “Good. We should probably take Jar with us, too,” Orlando said. “I’ll get four.”

  “It might be better if you stay,” Quinn said to Nate.

  “No, it won’t. If you want one of us to stay, you do it. I’m going.”

  “For God’s sake, what is wrong with you two?” Orlando asked. “You’re on the same damn side so get it together. You seem to have forgotten that we all lost Liz.”

  Neither man said anything else.

  AUSTRIA/SWITZERLAND

  REISER CONSIDERED GETTING off in Salzburg and driving a rental car back to Munich. The pull of home, no matter how dangerous it might be there, was strong.

  But he squelched the thought. Dehler was right. Lying low for a while was an excellent idea. If Quinn’s people found out he was back in Germany, they would come after him. If their roles were reversed, he certainly would.

  He fell asleep to the rocking of the car on the tracks, and didn’t wake until the train was pulling up to the platform in Innsbruck. During the final leg of the trip, he lunched in the bistro car and read a newspaper. Finally, at 3:22 p.m., the train arrived at Zurich Hauptbahnhof.

  Reiser was not an amateur. Though his escape from Vienna might have been noted, he knew he had half a day’s head start at least. The way he figured it, if Quinn had had more people in the area, Reiser and Dehler would have never been able to get away from the farmhouse. Likely it was just the three who’d visited him in Munich—the one who’d subsequently been tortured by Dehler, and the other two who’d likely had their hands full trying to save their colleague.