She ignored his protest and continued her celebration by doing a small victory dance in the Turkish Hall, the same place where Ludwig used to prance around with his male servants.
Ulster sighed. ‘Bollocks!’
Heidi heard the word and couldn’t help but laugh. It was probably the closest a man like Ulster ever came to swearing. Suddenly feeling guilty for her behaviour, she collapsed on the couch next to him and patted his belly. ‘Don’t worry, Petr. Your secret is safe with me.’
‘It is?’ he asked, concerned.
‘I promise, I won’t tell a soul.’
He glanced at her, hopeful. ‘You won’t?’
She flashed a winning smile. ‘Not if you take me with you.’
43
Krueger didn’t give a damn about bystanders. As far as he was concerned, collateral damage was an acceptable part of war, and that’s what he was involved in: a goddamn war. Thus far, Kaiser’s men had taken out half his crew, which gave Krueger all the motivation he needed to be ruthless. If people got in his way, he was going to knock them to the ground, shove them into the river, or do whatever he had to do to complete his mission. If he failed, he knew Mueller would blame him, and that would be the end of Krueger’s career. Maybe even his life.
Mueller was quite vindictive.
Despite his incentive to succeed, Krueger had been reluctant to fire his weapon during the early part of the chase because of a severe shortage of ammo. He had a few rounds in his clip, but not enough to take desperate shots while running – especially while navigating the upper section of the gorge where the narrow trail twisted in and out of tunnels. Further up ahead, he knew the path widened and straightened. That’s where he had planned to make his move.
But everything changed when he heard the gunshot.
Krueger slammed on his brakes and stared at Hahn, the goon directly behind him. While gasping for breath, he asked, ‘Where did that come from?’
Hahn gasped as well. ‘Back there somewhere.’
Krueger stared at the short tunnel they had just run through. It had been cut through a narrow pillar of stone that jutted out like a peninsula into the river. ‘Where’s Meyer?’
‘He’s behind me.’
‘When was the last time you saw him?’
Hahn shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve been following you the whole time.’
Krueger cursed to himself. Suddenly, he had a tough decision to make. Continue forward with Hahn as an armed escort, or send Hahn back to check on the gunshot. Obviously, if Krueger had known all the facts – that Payne had killed Meyer near the entrance to the gorge and was simply setting them up – there wouldn’t have been a dilemma. But since Krueger was in the dark about Meyer, he made his decision based on the survival of his crew. ‘You better go back and check on him. We need as many men as we can get to stop their chopper.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘But before you go, give me the rifle.’
Hahn stared at the G36 he had acquired from Schneider, right after slitting his throat. The rifle gave him a sense of comfort. ‘But, sir-’
‘No buts!’ Krueger growled. ‘There are two men ahead of us. I’ll be damned if I’m going to face them with a handgun. Besides, you and Meyer can watch each other’s backs for a while.’
He reluctantly traded weapons with his boss. ‘Now what?’
‘Now go! Check on Meyer before he’s dead!’
Hahn nodded, then sprinted to the south, the opposite direction to the one he had been heading. For the first few seconds, he felt completely discombobulated, as if everything in the world had been switched round in order to confuse him. Suddenly, the Partnach River was on his right, and its water was surging towards him. His rifle was now a Glock. His boss was now behind him. And his current mission was to find his friend, not kill his enemy.
It was almost too much for his brain to handle.
Hoping to gather his thoughts, Hahn stopped inside the tunnel he had just run through – which was shorter and brighter than the earlier tunnels – and checked his weapon. The Glock 17, an Austrian-made pistol chambered in a 9x19mm Parabellum, was one of the most popular handguns in the world. Highly durable, it is a NATO-classified sidearm and is used by thousands of law-enforcement agencies round the globe. Unfortunately, the damn thing was useless without ammo, and a cursory check of the magazine revealed only three rounds to work with.
‘Scheisse!’ he grumbled in German.
Pissed at Krueger for putting him in this predicament, Hahn shoved the magazine back into the Glock and walked forward. He would curse out his boss later, after he rescued Meyer from whatever mess he had got himself into. Using caution, Hahn stared at the rocky terrain from the shadows of the tunnel. The trail ahead was fairly straight for twenty-five feet, then it curled back to the left. If Meyer was in trouble, that was probably where.
Suddenly, a thought dawned on him, one that would have come to him earlier if he hadn’t been so confused. Why risk his ass when he could call Meyer instead?
Hahn pulled out his radio. ‘Come in, Meyer. Over.’
Static filled the line for the next several seconds.
So Hahn tried again. ‘Come in, Meyer. What’s your location?’
Once again, static hissed from the speaker.
Trying to improve reception, Hahn took a few steps forward, just beyond the edge of the tunnel. With an open sky above him, he hoped it would make enough of a difference that he would be able to talk to Meyer without having to risk his life.
Ironically, his caution led to his death.
From his perch above the tunnel entrance – where he had positioned himself on a narrow ledge – Payne waited until the goon was directly between him and the water. While leaning back against the rocks, he coolly lined up his shot and pulled the trigger. Fired at close range with a downward trajectory, the bullet tore through Hahn’s skull and face with so much force that it ended up fragmenting against the rocks underneath the water’s surface. A fountain of blood and brains splattered against the safety fence a moment before Hahn’s body slumped to the path, a few inches from his Glock and radio.
Wasting no time, Payne leapt from his perch and shoved the corpse into the Partnach, the same river that had swept away Meyer’s remains. In death, the two goons were reunited in a watery grave. Of course, Payne couldn’t have cared less about their reunion. When his adrenaline was flowing and his life was on the line, he didn’t have time to think about what he had done. He was far too concerned with what he needed to do – like tucking the Glock into his belt and shoving the radio into his pocket. Both might come in handy somewhere down the line.
By Payne’s calculation, there was only one target left: the man who had killed Collins near the intersection. Right now Krueger was trapped between Payne and Richter in the middle of a steep gorge, yet Payne knew the shooter could still do some damage. So far, Krueger had proven to be a pretty good shot. If he hunkered down in a crevice or inside a dark tunnel, he would be tough to root out in a short amount of time. That wouldn’t be much of an issue for Richter since he could keep running to the rendezvous point, but it would be a major problem for Payne. He simply didn’t have time to run back up the mountain.
To prevent that scenario, Payne wanted to trap the shooter in an open clearing, somewhere on the path where the guy couldn’t take shelter. Unfortunately, the one man who could provide Payne with the advanced surveillance he needed was currently running for his life. With no other options, Payne got on his radio and hoped for the best.
‘Come in, Junkyard Dog. Can you hear me?’
Payne waited ten seconds before he tried again. ‘Junkyard Dog, stop your running and answer me. I need your help. Over.’
Several seconds ticked by as he waited for a response. Payne was about to try one last time when the silence was finally broken.