"Damn it!" Gunter yelled. He rushed around the corner toward the stairwell, but jumped back when Herb sent a few rounds after him. Gunter retreated back into the office and slammed the door.
Bundenbach pointed toward the back door. "Take the back stairs. We need Carlson."
Gunter rushed out.
The back door burst open and Steve Carlson ran out into the biting rain whipping across the trees and side of the building. He glanced around and then hurried toward a park along the Rhine River.
Seconds later, Jake flew out the door into the squall, his gun aimed in each direction. Then he saw Carlson, so he took off after him through the wet grass.
Coming out the front door, Vitaly and the remaining twin ran around the side of the building. They stopped at the corner, glancing around through the driving rain.
Vitaly pointed his gun toward the river park. "There they are!"
The two of them sprinted off after Carlson and Jake.
Gunter stepped out the private door. He noticed the two Hungarians sloshing through the wet grass, and farther on toward the river, Carlson and Adams. Rain lashed down on him, and he wiped the water from his eyes before running off after the four of them.
By now Jake had closed in on Carlson. They were running parallel to the Rhine, the grass lashing out at their legs. The briefcase dangled from Carlson's hand.
Jake was closer now. With one quick motion, he dove at Carlson, catching him in the legs and tackling him to the wet weeds. They rolled around on the muddy ground. Jake punched Carlson in the face, sending his head flinging back to the ground.
Suddenly, shots rang out in the hollow wind.
Jake rolled over, drew his gun. He spotted the source, aimed, and fired three times, dropping the second Hungarian twin. Then Jake saw Vitaly dive behind a tree. A hand appeared with a gun, followed by two shots in Jake's direction.
Silence. Only the wind and rain.
"I just want the briefcase, Adams!" Vitaly yelled.
Jake, on his belly, rolled a few times to a safer position.
"That's not gonna happen, pal," Jake hollered back at him.
Behind Jake, he could hear Carlson crawling away toward the river. But he was worried more about the man with the gun.
A single shot echoed through the trees. But not toward Jake, he thought.
Silence again. But Jake could see another figure making his way through the trees perhaps thirty meters to the left of the Hungarian. Who was that?
"Shoot him!" Carlson yelled behind Jake. He was standing now, at the edge of the river.
Jake turned his head just as a single shot ripped through Carlson's chest, sending him flailing backwards into the Rhine with a tremendous splash. The dark river swallowed him. The briefcase suddenly rose to the surface and floated downstream.
Starting to rise, Jake was forced back down with a flurry of rounds cutting up a tree next to him.
Jake returned fire. Three times.
More bullets flew toward Jake.
Jake fired again and ducked back down.
More shots at Jake.
He waited now, hearing footfalls through the trees. Jake pulled up and fired three times at the figure.
Silence.
Jake swapped out a new clip. After a short while, he got up and crept toward the area he shot last, his gun leading the way. Freezing rain beat down on him, making him shiver. He cleared the bushes away and glanced down toward the ground. Gunter was on his back in the wet grass, a bullet hole in his forehead.
Polizei were everywhere, along with EMTs checking bodies in the woods and strapping them to stretchers, hauling them down from Bundenbach's office.
Jake had made his way to the front of the building, and was sitting on a retaining wall in the entranceway when two men in white pulled a gurney toward him.
Strapped down and patched up was Herb. He had the two men stop next to Jake.
"You gonna live, Herb?" Jake asked.
"I have to. I'm too close to retirement."
Just then two of the uniformed Polizei hauled Herr Bundenbach out of the elevator, his hands cuffed behind his back. He looked defeated and dejected as they whisked him past Jake and Herb.
Jake turned back toward Herb. "You take it easy."
With that, the EMTs pushed the gurney out into the driving rain.
A moment later, Jake went out into the freezing downpour and got behind the wheel of his car. He looked into his mirror at his tired eyes and hoped the airplane would have a terrible movie.
CHAPTER 38
Jake sat in the informal area of Milt Swenson's office.
Milt came in and sat down on the sofa. "How was your flight?"
"Pretty normal. Screaming kids. Obnoxious assholes trying to strike up conversations." Jake smiled.
Milt seemed uneasy, shifting from legs crossed to open and then crossed again.
"What's the matter, Milt?"
"I had no idea Steve was involved. You have to believe me."
"Why shouldn't I? You had nothing to gain by knowing what he was up to."
Milt shifted again. "The Senate Armed Services Committee comes here tomorrow. I plan on pitching our Joint Strike Fighter proposal at that time."
Jake didn't say a thing.
"I'm really satisfied with your results," Milt said. "I mean, you could have just let Steve sell my company out to the Germans and the Hungarians. You took the extra step for me. I appreciate it."
Jake didn't know what to say. Had he really done anything out of the ordinary? After all, he was hired to do a job. Reputation was important for future cases. Without references, how could he expect to continue in this business. No. He had done what needed to be done. Sure he could have sold out his principles. Given in to greed. But looking in the mirror each morning would have been far too difficult.
"I got lucky. Had some good help, also."
"Luck? I doubt it. You seem to have a penchant for being in the right place at the right time. I call that experience."
Jake wondered where the praise was leading.
"Jake, I could use you here at Teredata," Milt said.
Jake shifted in his chair. "I don't think so. You've compensated me nicely. I've made more in the last month than in six months with the agency. That's the good part. But I've found that I like working for myself. I know I'll always have a boss. But at least I can choose who that boss is."
"You've saved us a lot of money, Jake. If the Germans had picked up on our chip design, the European market would have been flooded with our technology. And we wouldn't have made a dime off all our research expenses. Besides that, we wouldn't have a chance in hell of getting the Joint Strike Fighter contract."
Jake got up from the chair and went to the window overlooking the city. It was a bright, sunny day. The Willamette River sparkled from the direct sun and the reflection off the tall, mirrored skyline.
"Not only did you save us money," Milt continued. "But you're going to make us a lot of money."
Jake studied the river. "How?"
"That transputer theory you talked about. Our engineers feel they can make it work with the right information."
Jake still didn't turn to Milt.
"We need a few things that would take us years to come up with on our own," Milt pleaded.
"I can't help you with that. I have only a limited knowledge of the theory," Jake said.
"True. But the Germans have it. You could get it from them."
Jake turned toward Milt. "What do you want from me? I've just been shot at how many times trying to keep your information from reaching the Germans and Hungarians? And now you want me to go back there and get the transputer information? I don't think so."
"You're the only one who can do this for me, Jake."