"They got any hamburgers?" Lamont asked.
"Right there near the bottom on the second page," Ronnie said. He pointed at the listing.
"Twenty euros? That's a hell of a lot for a burger."
"Hey, it comes with ketchup. They'll probably give you onions and lettuce for a few euros more if you ask."
"Uncle Sam is paying for it," Nick said. "Might as well get cheese on it too."
"Try the beef stew," Selena said. "The Germans are good at that."
"They have beef stroganoff," Nick said. "I'm going to get that. And a glass of wine."
"Get a bottle," Selena said. "A good red?"
"Sounds about right."
The waiter came and took their order. Two minutes later he was back with water for Ronnie and a bottle of wine for the others. Nick sampled the wine and nodded. The waiter poured and left them.
It was early in the evening for dinner in Europe and the café was almost empty. An elderly couple sat by the windows, hunched over their food. Nearby, a trio of business men worked on a bottle of schnapps and talked in loud voices. Outside, the wind had picked up. Heavy rain beat on the windows The few pedestrians on the street hurried by with their heads down and their collars turned up.
"It's miserable out there," Selena said. "I'm glad we decided to stay in."
"I hope it clears up soon," Ronnie said. "I've had enough of Germany."
"The weather report wasn't good," Nick said. "We're stuck here for at least a day."
The street entrance was through a door into an enclosed foyer that kept unwelcome weather out of the café. The door opened and two large men crowded into the foyer. They opened the inner door and stood not far from the bar, looking at the room.
"Those two would be right at home in the NFL," Lamont said.
Three more men entered the café from the hotel. They wore dark coats and dark hats. They were big, like the two men who had come in from the street. One of them looked at the table where Nick and the others sat.
Nick's ear began to tingle.
"We've got trouble. The five who just came in."
"They don't seem real friendly," Ronnie said.
The tingle in his ear turned into a deep itch. Nick reached up and tugged on it.
"Aw, hell," Lamont said.
"Get ready," Nick said. "These guys aren't here for a beer."
He slipped his pistol out of the concealed holster and held it in his lap under a napkin. Adrenaline shot through his body, as though a pot of caffeine had been poured straight into his veins.
Guns came out from under the heavy coats.
"Move!" Nick shouted.
The elderly couple looked up. Nick fired at one of the two men by the bar and missed. A window in the foyer door shattered. He fired again and the man dropped his gun and fell to his knees. Nick and Lamont scrambled along the back wall firing at the other man by the bar. Behind them, Selena and Ronnie began firing at the three who had come in from the hotel.
Everything slowed down.
Nick felt his pulse pounding. Sounds were muffled. One of the old people began screaming, the sound drawn out like a record played too slowly. Bullets streaked across the room, smashing into the back bar and the espresso machine as the barman ducked behind the bar. Bottles and glassware shattered. A column of steam shot up from the punctured coffee machine. The businessmen dived for the floor.
The big man by the bar had a submachine gun. He opened up and Lamont went down hard, his pistol skittering across the floor. The man swiveled the gun and Nick felt a hammer blow on his left arm. He shot the man three times until he fell, sending the gun flying. Nick turned. One of the attackers by the hotel entrance was down. Selena and Ronnie were shooting at the two men still standing. Ronnie yelled and fell to the floor. Nick fired with Selena. Another man went down. Spent rounds ricocheted around the room, breaking windows facing the street.
The slide locked back on Nick's pistol. He reached for another magazine as Selena's pistol emptied. Her last round took down the final attacker. He collapsed and sprawled on the floor.
Sudden silence.
Time speeded up again. Nick's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't move his left arm. Blood ran down his sleeve.
Lamont!
Lamont lay on his back a few feet away. Blood pooled around him, under him. Two bloody holes marred the front of his shirt. His eyes were wide open, his eyelids fluttering.
Nick looked at the wounds and felt fear for his friend.
"I'm here, buddy. Stay with me. Don't you quit on me."
"Nick…" Blood bubbled between Lamont's lips.
"Don't talk. Stay with me."
Sirens sounded outside, coming closer.
"Help's coming. Stay with me."
Lamont grasped Nick's arm.
"How bad?" His voice was weak, hesitant.
"You'll be all right. Keep talking to me."
"Ronnie and Selena…"
"They'll be okay. Look at me."
Lamont's eyelids fluttered.
"Lamont. Stay with me. Look at me."
Nick saw the first ambulance pull up in front of the café.
"Hey, I hear German hospitals serve really great food."
Lamont started to laugh. "Uh. Hurts."
Two paramedics came through the shattered foyer door. Police cars and another ambulance pulled up outside. One of the paramedics ran over to where Nick knelt by Lamont. The other went to where Ronnie lay on the floor.
"Okay, wir haben ihn."
"What?" Nick said.
"Okay, we have him."
Nick squeezed Lamont's hand. "You're going to be okay."
Lamont didn't hear him.
CHAPTER 47
Nick stood by the window in his hotel room looking out at the rain. His mood was blacker than the clouds outside. His left arm was in a soft cast and hung in a sling. He had no feeling in the fingers of his left hand. The bullet had nicked the bone and damaged the nerves. The prognosis was inconclusive. Feeling might come back or it might not. The arm was the least of his concerns.
It's my fault. I was careless. I thought with Gutenberg dead it was over. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Thoughts of guilt and blame made hammered drumbeats in his mind.
With Langley's help, Harker had kept them out of jail. DCI Hood had called in a favor with the Bundesnachrichtendienst, the German Intelligence Service. The BND had stepped in and taken over from the local police.
Lamont and Ronnie were in intensive care in the University Hospital. Ronnie had taken two 9 mm rounds through his guts. One of them had punctured his liver. The last time he'd been wounded he'd lost his spleen. This time was worse. It was touch and go whether he would survive.
Lamont wasn't much better off. One round had missed his heart by a centimeter and exited from his back, causing massive bleeding. The other bullet had gone through his left lung, the second time he'd been shot through a lung. If he survived, he would have matching wound scars on his chest.
A round had grazed Selena's side and glanced off a rib. They'd bandaged her up along with Nick and sent them back to the hotel. A man in a dark suit and tie from the BND stood outside their door. They weren't prisoners, exactly, but they were told not to leave their room. They were under a form of polite house arrest while the Germans figured out what to do with them. Their guns had been confiscated.
Selena came over and stood by Nick. She put her hand on his shoulder and looked out the window with him. The cityscape was a gray vista of steel and glass and wet concrete.