“Since when did you ever worry about such before,” she asked.
He looked her in the eye, cupping her cheeks after cinching the belts on the Kevlar. “Since now. I’d like us to make it out of this alive, woman, so no arguing. We have a lot to talk about later.” He kissed her forehead, and then turned, taking her hand to keep her close behind him.
Mahler tried not to grin. It wasn’t easy, especially since she realized they were still in the thick of things. But she let her heart be happy for that one moment before switching back into police detective mode.
Heinz tapped Hammer on the shoulder. “I need to get her top-side.”
Hammer nodded. “Go back the way we came in. The way is clear.” He informed the team. “Two coming up. Over and out.”
They turned to go, but Mahler stopped. “There’s a galley one deck down. Most of the men are in there right now. This door,” she indicated the one she’d just come from, “is a back staircase. If you go out to the right, and take the first immediate right, you’ll be on track straight ahead to the chow hall. Ivchencko’s stateroom is also on that level, south from the three-way split in the corridor, and to the left. Third door down on the left. It’s the room with a dead body in it. He wasn’t there when I left. I haven’t seen him since I arrived.”
Hammer relayed that information and thanked her. “Now take her to the command post. We got this.”
HEINZ AND MAHLER STEPPED off the gangplank and made their way across the dock back to the makeshift post. It was eerily quiet since the remaining SEK had set up a perimeter to keep others out. There were no trucks driving past or cranes lifting large containers on and off the ships. Fog had rolled in during the past hour making it difficult to see more than three feet in front of themselves. The loud reverberation of gunshots sliced through the silence reaching their ears. They both stopped and turned, looking back.
“Do you hear anything?” Mahler asked, looking at his helmet and the com link.
“Nein. We’re out of range for the wireless.” She heard the frustration in his voice.
“They may need us.” Anxiety flecked her words.
“They’re highly trained men, Birgitta. Fifty of them, plus Beimer, Trommler, and the two marines.”
As they spoke, a figure began to emerge from the fog, but it was too dark, and too hazy to identify him. A shot rang out, and Heinz grunted.
Mahler yelped. “Joseph!”
He slumped against her side, listing, then falling to the ground.
“Back away or you’re next.” The fog cleared, and Yuri Ivchencko stood pointing a police-issue semi-automatic rifle at her.
“He needs help.” She looked at Heinz laying prone on the cold, hard ground, fighting the urge compelling her to go to him. “You can’t do this!”
He sneered. “Oh, but I can. You’ve both cost me quite a bit with your meddling.” Two more men stepped out of the fog behind him. One large and tall with a shaved head, and the other, shorter, wiry, and mean-looking. Ivan and Vitaly. Ivan locked eyes on her, an evil grin on his terrifying face.
Mahler kept her body slightly turned, the P-96 still in her hand down at her side.
“I say it again, detective. Move away. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”
“I won’t.” She stood over Heinz.
Ivchencko sighed, anger emanating from his cold eyes. “Ivan. Please show the detective that her bravery is merely misplaced stupidity.”
Ivan fisted his hands, not even bothering to raise the gun he carried thinking her unarmed. Mahler dropped low quickly, raising her gun, and fired off two rounds into his chest. There was a moment of surprise on his face as he fell forward, dead. Without missing a beat, she sighted right aiming for Ivchencko before he could shoot, but Vitaly grabbed his boss pulling him quickly left. Her bullet barely missed him. Vitaly aimed and fired at her hitting her shoulder. The impact sent her reeling even as the vest saved her.
More shots were fired, but they came from behind Ivchencko and Vitaly. Both turned seeing the agents rushing to Mahler’s aid. Cursing, Ivchencko tossed one last, regretful look at Birgitta before fleeing with Vitaly. The fog swallowed them both just as Trommler, Jager, and Kelner arrived.
“Are you all right?” Lukas dropped down at her side.
“I’m okay. It’s Joseph. He’s been shot. Get help!”
Jager pulled out his walkie. “I need medical transport immediately at my location for an officer down. Gunshot wound.” He inspected Heinz looking for the entry point of the bullet. “Chest, upper right.” He rattled of coordinates, then thrust the two-way at Lukas. “Kelner and I are going after Ivchencko. We’ll radio in on his unit.” They stood and took off in the direction Vitaly and Ivchencko had gone. In a moment, they could no longer be seen.
Lukas leaned forward over Heinz and pressed down on the wound. Blood continued to leak through his fingers.
“Hold on, Heinz. Help is coming.”
Mahler sat up, trying to catch her breath. “Don’t you die on me, Joseph Heinz!” She crawled forward and sat on her knees at his side, holding his hand while tears ran down her cheeks.
“Miss me, would you?” Heinz’s voice was weak, his eyes rolled around in their sockets, a direct result of the blood loss and pain. He tried to focus.
“You fool! Of course I would. Now save your strength. Please.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek.
“Careful. I might begin to think you love me.” Heinz passed out.
“Joseph! Joseph!” she screamed, over and over.
The wail of a siren signaled the arrival of the ambulance. As they lifted Heinz onto a gurney, more shots rang out in the direction of the ship. The sound of men’s voices shouting filled the air. The smell of smoke from gunfire reached them as Mahler jumped into the back to ride with Heinz. Her usually calm, stoic face contorted with the anguish of pain and heartbreak.
“I’m going back in.” Lukas stood outside watching as the medical tech ran an IV. “I’ll catch up with you.” He closed the back doors and gave the side of the vehicle a tap. The siren came back on as they drove off heading for the hospital.
He turned and ran back to the Vledelets. Beimer stood on the dock. When he saw Lukas, he met him halfway. “We’ve secured the ship. Most of the men are locked up in the chow hall now and under guard. Hammer called in the backup.” The sound of large trucks pulling onto the dock met their ears.
“What about the girls,” Lukas asked.
“One of the teams is down in the cargo hold now. Just waiting on word. What about Ivchencko?”
“Jager and Kelner are on his heels.”
“We should call Heinz and let him know.” Beimer didn’t know.
“He knows. Ivchencko shot him.”
“What? Is he...”
“No. He’s not dead, Hugo.” Lukas patted him on the back. That’s when Beimer saw all the blood on his hands.
“Mein Got!” His eyes bulged. “And Mahler? Please tell me she’s okay?”
“She’s on her way to the hospital with Heinz. She’s not injured, but I wouldn’t say she’s okay.
They stood there, two men who’d seen more in the last twenty-four hours than anyone should ever have to witness. Finally, Lukas said, “You handled yourself very well. Damn good job, Beimer.” He extended his hand.
Hugo accepted it. They shook. “Danke. You’re not at all what I first thought.” He gave Lukas a sideways glance. “You’re a good man, Trommler. And you have my blessing to date my partner.”
Lukas smirked, then muttered, “as if I needed it.” They both grinned.
Truckloads of police officers arrived with prison transport buses ordered to handle the number of men being arrested. It took them two hours to load the prisoners. Once the ship was cleared, the team began the painstaking task of bringing up forty young women from the cargo hold. Another group of trucks arrived along with several emergency medical vehicles to check them out. Most of the girls were taken to a nearby Catholic charity clinic whil
e some were in dire need of a hospital. News crews began showing up and filming the exodus. Police had to tape off the area and push the gathering crowd back. When it was all said and done, everyone was exhausted. But the satisfaction of scoring one for the good guys maintained them throughout.
Lukas and Beimer caught a ride in one of the ambulances to the hospital intending to check on Heinz and Mahler. Jager and Kelner still hadn’t checked back in and Lukas was worried. Still, he trusted in their abilities, and knew they would find him. There were still units at the dock, and he made sure to let them know the two marines were out there on Ivchencko’s trail. Hammer informed the LKA, and a net was being cast around the city to catch the Russian. For now, they’d done all they could do.
Chapter Seventeen
ELSA AWOKE TO FIND Faust sprawled out in the chair next to her bedside. His head lolled off to one side, and his mouth hung open on a snore. His gray-blond hair stuck out in spikes as if he’d run his hand through it a number of times. She looked up at the clock on the wall. Five-sixteen in the morning. She felt exhausted even though she’d slept most of the night. The medication the nurse administered worked well, but it seemed to leave her feeling groggy. She shifted and tried scooting up a bit in bed. The action dislodged something that slid down her pillow onto the sheet. She reached for it, finding a card. She lifted her hand to read it. On it were the initials IE in gold leaf. A logo. Elsa froze.
“Faust, wake up!”
Faust snorted, and opened his eyes. “Wha..”
“Wake up! He’s here!” Elsa looked around her room but saw no one.
“Who’s here? What are you going on about?” Faust sat up, and he, too, looked around the room.
“Ivchencko.” Fear and anger colored her voice.
“What? Where? Why do you say this?” He rubbed his eyes and looked at her thinking she might be having a nightmare. There was no way Ivchencko could be here.
“This was on my pillow.” She handed him the card.
Faust took it and stared. He stood and went to the door. “Stay here.” He looked down both sides of the hall, and then walked to the nurse’s station. Nurse Eichmann came out of another room, and seeing Faust, stopped.
“Yes, Herr Direktor. What do you need?” She sat the file down that she carried and walked around behind the desk.
“Has anyone been up here asking for Officer Kreiss?” His expression was dead-serious.
“No one asked, but a hospital chaplain stopped by earlier. I told him he’d have to wait until later as she was sleeping.”
Alarm bells went off in Faust’s head. “What did he look like?”
Eichmann shrugged. “Like a chaplain.”
Faust lost his temper. “Damn it, woman! What. Did. He. Look. Like?”
The nurse pulled back, clearly surprised by the vehemence in his tone. “He was tall. Gray hair. Pale eyes, I think. Slender. Rather quiet.”
“Was he alone?”
“Yes. Why?”
“What made you think him a chaplain? Did he say so?”
“His I.D. read ‘Chaplain’. It was hanging around his neck. And he said he was here to see the young officer brought in yesterday.”
“Did you actually look at the I.D.?”
She became flustered. “Well, no. What is the problem?”
“What did he do when you told him he would have to come back? Did he leave?”
“I assume so. I had a patient call. He wasn’t here when I got back. What is going on, Herr Direktor?”
“What is going on is the man who tried to kill her left his card on Kreiss’s pillow!” He stormed away from the desk and pulled out his mobile. Behind him, nurse Eichmann turned pale, her mouth hung wide, and she had to sit down before her knees gave out.
He called his officer up on the fourth floor needing to check on the status of Koslov. No answer. “Fuck!” He turned back to the mannish nurse. “Nurse Eichmann, I need you to stand guard outside of Elsa’s room until I get back. Do not leave her no matter what, do you understand?”
Eichmann stood, nodding her head. “Good. Is there anyone else working with you tonight?”
“Ja. Nurse Klugman. He’s changing out an I.V. in three-twelve.”
“Good. Tell Klugman to call hospital security ASAP. I’ll have men here within the half hour.” He handed her his card. “If that man comes back onto this floor or anyone else asking for Kreiss, you call my cell immediately. Got it?”
“I’ve got it. And Herr Direktor? I apologize for being so short with you. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to Officer Kreiss, and I will protect her.” Her eyes were sincere, and her posture alert and ready to fight if necessary.
Faust gave her a brief salute and headed to the lift. He called the station as the door opened. By the time he reached the next floor, he’d ordered in a team to sweep the hospital floor by floor looking for Ivchencko and had them issue an all-points bulletin within the city, and beyond. He checked his phone for messages, specifically looking to see if Heinz had called, to see if he’d missed it because he’d fallen asleep. He’d only been awake long enough to walk from the waiting room, where his back cramped up from the short couch no normal sized man could stretch out on, to the men’s room, and then to Elsa’s room where he kept vigil at her bedside, and fell back to sleep. No calls missed. That was odd. He should have heard something by now. He dialed his old friend’s number.
The phone rang, and then went to voicemail as he walked to the psych unit. At their desk, he again asked if anyone tried to get in to see the patient. Again, he heard that a hospital chaplain had stopped by. They let him through.
“You did what? What the hell is wrong with you people,” he demanded as he stormed off to Koslov’s room. He could see his officer sitting in a chair outside the door.
“Tell me you didn’t let the so-called chaplain in?” Faust was on fire. The closer he got, the angrier he became. His officer didn’t respond. He didn’t even move. Faust slowed.
As he finally reached him, he could see a trickle of blood coming from the officer’s mouth. His eyes were wide open, and his body leaned onto the wall giving the illusion from a distance that he was simply reclined. He stepped close and could see a puncture wound just under the right ear. He heard several footsteps come up behind him. Officer Imler and another cop stood looking at their fallen brother.
“Son of a bitch!” Faust took a deep breath and opened the door. Inside, Gregor Koslov hung suspended by his neck from a makeshift rope of tied together sheets. The rope had been looped around the visible metal water pipes overhead. His tongue was cut out and pinned to his chest with a knife. His hands, still cuffed to the bed rails, had been yanked tight extending the arms almost to the point of ripping them from the shoulder joints. He turned to Imler. “Stay here and see to this. I have to get back downstairs to Kreiss.”
He practically ran to the lifts. Inside the elevator car, his phone rang. “Faust,” he answered, his tone sharp.
“Herr Direktor, it’s Hugo Beimer.”
“Beimer, where’s Heinz?” The floor bell dinged, and the door slid open.
“He’s here in Hamburg in surgery.”
“What! What happened?” Faust walked out, seeing who he assumed to be nurse Klugman sitting at the desk. He looked down the hall and saw Eichmann standing guard. She nodded at him.
“Heinz was shot by Ivchencko. He got away, him and one of his men. Mahler said he’s called Vitaly. The two marines, Jager and Kelner only just arrived back an hour ago. They went after him but lost him.”
“How serious is it?”
“Not quite sure yet, but the doctor said he didn’t think it was life-threatening. That’s all we know right now.”
“Did you find Mahler?”
“Yes. We got her. She’s okay. We also got the ship, and rescued forty young girls that were aboard, caged like animals.” Beimer’s voice shook.
Faust closed his eyes and sent a prayer heavenward, thankful for that. “You did a fine job, office
r. Listen. Are your marines there? I need to speak to the one in charge.”
“Ja, sure. Hold on.” Faust could hear Beimer exchanging words with someone, another male voice.
“Kelner here.”
“This is Herman Faust. I’m the local direktor of the LKA in Berlin.”
“Herr Direktor. Heinz spoke highly of you when we met yesterday. What can I do for you, sir?”
“Ivchencko is here in Berlin.”
Kelner sucked in a breath. “Say again?”
“He’s here. He came into the hospital where we have his man, Koslov, and took him out. He also left our officer Kreiss his calling card.”
“Scheisse!” Kelner pulled away from the phone and quickly shared this with Jager, Trommler, Beimer, and Mahler. He came back on the line. “How long ago?”
“No more than an hour.”
“He must’ve left straight for Berlin then. Jager, Trommler, and I are on our way. We should be there in about two and a half hours. Which hospital?”
Faust gave him the name and address. “Good. Now, let me speak with detective Mahler, please. I’ll see you soon.” Kelner handed over the phone.
“Herman?”
“Mahler. It’s good to hear your voice.” He sighed, feeling bone-weary. “I want you to please call me as soon as he’s out of surgery.”
“I will. I will.” She hiccupped and swallowed down the beginning of a sob.
“He’s going to be okay, Birgitta. Joseph is the toughest man I know, and too damn stubborn by half to let one bullet do him in.”
“I know. I’m just...just worried.”
“Do you need anything? Can I send someone?”
“No. I spoke with Jan earlier, and he wanted to drive up, but I told him to wait. If we can get Joseph stable, we can transport him back to Berlin by medevac.”
“Good. Sehr gut.”
“You take care of Elsa. If anything happened to her, it would kill Joseph. She’s like a daughter to him, you know.”
“Ha. Yes, I know. She’s quite special, that one.” He noticed three more of his men stepping out of the lift. They acknowledged him, and then spread out to check the floor. “Don’t forget to call me.”
The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 42