He moved his finger over the trigger.
What to do?
If only he’d been able to keep Cochrane and his colleague in his sights.
Though only they could have killed the men in the room.
If he pulled the trigger, would he be rewarding them with death?
Or would he be avenging their deaths in the room?
What to do?
He kept the crosshairs in the center of the taller man, moving his rifle as the men walked slowly down the hallway. If the men in his sights were Cochrane and the older man, they now stood a good chance of killing Schreiber. But if the men were Schreiber’s guards, they would protect their boss while summoning reinforcements. Almost certainly, they’d try to locate and assault Kronos while others got Schreiber to a car. Kronos would kill the guards, but by then Schreiber would be long gone. If that happened, and given today’s assault on his life, Schreiber would almost certainly eschew all of his European safe houses in favor of relocating to a place that even Kronos didn’t know about. He’d disappear for good.
The solution was clear.
As uncomfortable as it made him.
He had to kill the men in his sights.
He squeezed back on the trigger.
One more millimeter before a.50-caliber round was fired.
The big man and his older colleague still had their guns held up with outstretched arms, moving closer to the end of the corridor and the room containing Kurt Schreiber.
So easy to kill them.
Just one millimeter.
So easy.
Kronos thought about his story to his sons and their response after he finished the tale.
That can’t be the end. The young eagle wouldn’t be injured if the giant earthworm hadn’t been so bad. And the eagle king needs to say sorry for hurting the younger eagle. The best way he can do that is to find the worm and allow the younger eagle to kill it.
Could he go home to his family and finish the story in the way he was now contemplating?
Kronos’s finger was motionless.
Could he?
No.
Stefan eased off the trigger.
Had to have faith that the man in his crosshairs was Cochrane.
Had to give Mathias and Wendell an ending they deserved.
Even if that ending enabled the giant earthworm to escape forever.
Will stopped. The door at the end of the corridor was a few yards away. It was the only place Schreiber could be. Slowly, he lowered his arms and placed the butt of his submachine gun into his shoulder. He knew Kronos should have killed him; it was the logical thing to do. He wondered why the deadly assassin hadn’t done so.
“This is for my Betty.” Alfie pointed his gun at the oak doors.
“It is.” Will walked forward, gripped the door handle, twisted it and pushed. Locked. He fired at the door hinges and lock, kicked the door away, then immediately slammed his body against the adjacent wall, expecting a hail of gunfire to come through the entrance.
All was silent.
He entered the room.
It was a big living room-floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, leather sofas, armchairs, and coffee tables, a roaring fire, oak-paneled walls, paintings by German artists, and a bookshelf that segmented the room and ran down its entire length. At the far end of the room were glass sliding doors, beyond them a long balcony that overlooked the Alps and valley. In front of it was a large mahogany writing desk. A diminutive old man was sitting at the desk, wearing a suit and rimless spectacles.
Kurt Schreiber was still, looking calm. The bookshelf and walls shielded him from Kronos’s sight.
He was looking directly toward Will and Alfie as they moved closer, their guns trained on him.
“Kurt Schreiber?” Will took three paces toward the man.
Schreiber smiled, his hands flat on the desk.
“Schreiber?”
Schreiber’s eyes twinkled. “You know who I am and I know who you are.”
Alfie ran forward, anger coursing through him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you! Not unless you wish for more. . death.”
Alfie stopped. “You killed my wife.”
Schreiber retained his smile. “Not me. She was executed by men who were acting on my precise instructions.”
“You fucking. .”
“If you kill me, someone else you both know will die.”
“Shut up, you bastard!” Alfie made ready to fire.
But Will placed a hand over Alfie’s gun. “Wait.” He stared at Schreiber. “What do you mean?”
Schreiber glanced out of the window. “Do you like the view? It’s so beautiful and tranquil.” He returned his attention to Will and Alfie. “If you kill me, Sarah will be killed.”
Will’s stomach muscles tightened.
“Did you think I’d leave her alone while she started her idyllic new life in Edinburgh?” Schreiber shook his head. “That would have been a mistake, particularly as I anticipated that you’d come for me. She’s being watched by men who won’t hesitate to carry out my orders. I called them as soon as I heard you were approaching and told them that unless I phoned them back within an hour and told them I was safe, they were to use knives on her. And”-his smile broadened-“I told them that they could take their time with the task.”
Will removed his hand from Alfie’s gun. “Make that call!”
“That’s a silly request. If I make the call, I’m dead.”
“If you don’t, you’re dead!”
“You’d kill your own sister? Because that’s what you’ll be doing if you shoot me.”
Will was motionless.
“He’s bluffing.” Alfie’s face was full of anger.
Will slowly lowered his gun. “I don’t think so.”
Schreiber rubbed his hands. “Correct, Mr. Cochrane. I never bluff. Instead I calculate and strategize accordingly. I’ve lived my entire life that way.” He stood. “If you let me walk out of here, nothing will happen to her.”
“Liar! You’ve no interest in keeping Sarah alive.”
Schreiber clicked his tongue. “You’re smarter than that. If I kill her, I have no leverage over you. It’s very much in my interest to keep her alive in order to keep you away.”
“Someone else will get you. Your power’s dwindling. Soon you’ll have nowhere to hide.”
Schreiber frowned. “Dwindling? On the contrary, my business is flourishing and expanding.” His expression turned cold. “However, I concede that I can’t hide from old age. Rubner’s death was a bit of a setback, as I was grooming him to take over my projects. But it doesn’t matter now, as I’ve found a replacement, a woman who’s perhaps even more talented.”
“Who?”
“None of your business.” He glanced away. “Call off your sniper. Let me walk away. Sarah will live. It’s as simple as that.”
“Still think he’s bluffing. We can’t let him go, Will.”
“I’m afraid you’ve no choice, Mr. Mayne. And Will Cochrane knows that.” He moved around the desk. “Don’t you?”
Will nodded.
“Bleedin’ ’ell, Will. This can’t be happening!”
Schreiber took two paces toward them. “Call off your sniper.”
“Don’t listen to him!”
“Call him off.”
“Will?”
Will withdrew his cell phone and tapped numbers on the keypad.
“Don’t do it, Will!”
He held the phone to his face and spoke. “If I touch him, Schreiber will kill my sister. We’ve lost. Get right away from here. Don’t touch Schreiber.” He closed the phone.
“Jesus!”
Will glanced at Alfie. “Trust me, I’m sure he’s not bluffing.”
Schreiber pointed a frail finger at him. “If that was a dummy call, my men will follow my orders.”
“I made the call, he listened, and he will follow my orders.” Will nodded. “You’re free to go.”
Schreiber nodded. “Very well.” He picked up his walking stick, moved across the room, passed Will and Alfie, and turned to face them when he reached the door. “Gentlemen, I do hope we never meet again.”