She took his Uzi in one hand and went back to the hallway. Seconds later, she had slipped into Herr Altenstein’s room and found the man on his bed, his hands over his eyes and mumbling to himself.
“Wilhelm,” she whispered loudly. “We must leave this place.”
Altenstein looked up at her, surprised. His eyes became wider when he saw the Uzi. “You? Where have I seen you before?”
“I don’t have time for this. Let’s just say I work for your government. Get your shoes and coat on and let’s move. Now.” She looked back out into the hallway as he did what she said.
Coming up the stairs was Miko. When he got to the top, he looked around, trying to find his partner Jiri. She closed the door and locked it.
On the south corner of the castle, Jake Adams had been able to keep away from the cameras and the motion sensors. Just outside a French door a man lit a cigarette, only steps away from Jake. With one fluid motion, Jake kicked the back of the man’s leg while simultaneously putting him in a sleeper hold. Looking closer, Jake saw it was the man who had tried to kill him in the Donau Bar. Grago struggled in Jake’s arms. Not even thinking, Jake made one quick twist of his entire body, snapping the man’s neck. His weight crumpled beneath Jake and he slowly pulled the limp body back around the corner of the castle.
Now Jake crouched against the wall next to the corner drain. He made sure his gun was secure in its holster and started climbing the pipe. Just as he reached the corner balcony, his hands on the rails, an alarm sounded. The shock made him lose his grip with one hand, and he dangled for a moment by the other arm.
Through his mic he heard heavy breathing. “Jake, I must have tripped a motion sensor.” It was Kurt coming around the front.
Jake struggled and grasped the rail with his second hand. “Time to move in then,” Jake said a little too loud.
He swung his legs over rails and a shot rang out in the still night. Then the window next to him smashed.
25
Still somewhat in shock from seeing Jake break that man’s neck, Anna had been focusing her attention on Jake hanging from the railing, when she caught movement in the snowy garden below. Then the alarm broke the silence.
Next came the shots, and she turned her gun toward the man on the snowy surface, his gun pointed toward Jake.
She didn’t hesitate. The light crack of her rifle echoed about the air and the man below dropped to the snow holding his right leg. The important thing, though, was he had dropped the rifle.
Now she watched Jake slide into the French doors. “Nice job,” she whispered into the mic. She kept her eyes open for more problems.
Jake found himself in the dimly lit master suite, his gun following his eyes around the room. Laying close to the door was a man, hog-tied and blood seeping from the back of his head, a fireplace poker a few feet away. What the hell?
He spoke into the mic as he felt for a pulse. “Where are you?” The guy had a pulse.
No answer.
Suddenly, gunfire burst from the front of the castle. Then more from just down the hall from him.
“I’m inside,” Jake said. “Second floor.”
“A little busy here,” came Kurt’s reply.
Moving to the door, Jake saw a salvo of flashes from a room a few doors down, aimed at the staircase. He ran the plans for the castle through his mind and realized the shooter in the room could hold off anyone trying to come upstairs from that position. But who was it? He had a shot and an angle.
Time to help out.
Just after the next volley from the room toward the stairs, Jake waited a second for return fire and then he leveled his gun around the doorframe and shot three times at the man on the stairs. The man dropped to the steps, the gun bouncing down the marble and firing a couple of times.
Silence.
Jake yelled, “Down here.” He waved for the shooter to come to him.
A set of eyes peered from the darkness of the room down the hall. Then the door swung open and a woman in a leather jacket ran toward him carrying an Uzi, followed by a man who looked very scared.
When they got into the master suite, Jake closed the door behind them and pointed his gun at the woman.
“Who the hell are you two?”
The woman was pissed. “Who the hell are you?”
“Jake Adams. I’m here to get Gustav Albrecht. Where is he?” He opened the door and shot a couple of times.
“You’re Jake Adams,” she said with disbelief. “I thought you were taller.”
“I get that a lot. Now, who the hell are you?”
Before she could answer, the mic crackled. “Jake. I’ve got a shot on those two through the French windows.” It was Anna.
“No, Anna. Don’t shoot.”
The woman and man looked around the room for someone else.
Jake explained. “You’re being covered by a rifle from outside right now. Who the fuck are you?”
The woman let out a deep sigh. “Alexandra Schecht. BND.”
Somewhat confused, Jake said, “German Federal Intelligence Service. And I use that term lightly. I thought they gutted the Bundesnachrichtendienst.”
“Not completely.” She pulled her silenced gun from her jacket and threw the Uzi to the bed. “It’s out of bullets.”
“Wait a minute,” Jake said. He opened the door a little, saw a man trying to walk down the hall, and Jake shot twice at him, making him go back down the stairs. “Any relation to Gunter Schecht? Former BND.”
Hesitantly, she said, “He was my uncle.”
Shit. Jake had killed the man years ago on a case.
“I know you killed him,” she said. “I know all about you.”
Jake considered raising his gun on her again. “And?”
“You had no choice,” she said. “My uncle Gunter had become a rogue, working for some bad people.”
He swung the door open and shot again.
“He was a good man at one time,” Jake said. “We had worked together in Munich. Something changed in him.”
She nodded her head. “Let’s find our way out of here. How many do you have with you?”
“Two out front and one covering us from the back.” Jake went onto his mic and described the man and woman with him, so they wouldn’t shoot them. Then he said to Alexandra, “Who’s this guy?”
Altenstein started telling Jake his life story and Jake stopped him. “All right. You’re the nano scientist. I get it.” He turned to Alexandra. “Do you know where they’re keeping Albrecht?”
“He’s two doors down on the left,” she said. “But they’ve got him locked in there.”
“I’ll take care of that while you keep them busy.”
She nodded and took Jake’s place at the door.
Jake slid a new clip into his gun and then ran out into the hallway firing at the stairs. The men there scooted back. With one fluid motion, Jake ran and smashed his shoulder into the door. The lock gave at the frame and crashed inward, taking Jake with it. He landed on the floor and dropped his gun for a moment, the gun a few feet from his hand.
Looking up, Jake saw Albrecht in the middle of the room. Standing behind him was Viktor Kopari, the concierge from Budapest, a gun pointing at Albrecht’s head.
“I thought that might be you,” Kopari said. His left pinky was wrapped in a small cast.
“How’s your finger and nipple,” Jake asked, his own fingers digging into a Persian rug and wanting to go for the gun.
Gunfire sounded out in the hallway. First a few loud shots and then the coughs from Alexandra’s silenced HK.