Read Prime Target Online

Authors: Hugh Miller

Prime Target (30 page)

‘Me too.' Sabrina waited until he righted the bike then she climbed on. ‘The way I feel about him,' she said, ‘is like the sensation you get when you see a terrorist turn and look at you, and you realize your gun is back at the hotel.'

‘I know that sensation,' Mike said. ‘There's a technical term for it.'

‘Yeah?'

‘Blind terror.'

The sky turned steadily darker as they drew near the shoreline. Mike eased the bike along rutted tracks and over increasingly stony hillocks, watching all the time for a sign of the Volkswagen. The rain was starting up again when Sabrina slapped his shoulder.

‘There,' she said, pointing out to sea.

Ten metres beyond the end of a jetty the boot
and part of the rear end of the car's roof were visible above the water.

‘I hope he didn't leave anybody in there,' Mike said.

He drove on for another five minutes, picking up speed as the shingled road became smoother. A number of small boats lay at anchor along the way, covered with tarpaulins, abandoned until the city sailors arrived at the weekend.

Sabrina slapped Mike again. ‘That boat along there. The big green one. There are lights on board.'

The launch was moored against the side of a flimsy one-lane jetty. Down in the state room Andreas Wolff was propped in the curve of a padded couch facing aft. At the dining table Einar Ahlin sat opposite Erika Stramm. He explained their position as if it had been ordained long ago.

‘They will know where we are, or roughly where, because they will have taken a lock on the broadcast signal. Police radios permit that kind of trace, which was the only reason we used it. Delay, when it comes time for the exchange, will be minimal.' He took a cellular telephone from his pocket. ‘When you talk to them again, you will use this.'

‘So you want them to come here,' Erika said.

‘I want them to see Wolff,' Ahlin sat back and clasped his hands behind his head. ‘We will be some way out by then, but they will be able to satisfy themselves it is him. They will then float out the money in the small boat they will find by
the jetty, and when it reaches us, we release Herr Wolff. They will rejoice and give great sighs of relief as they help him out of the boat in which he will be returned to the shore. He will still have his hands bound, of course, and his mouth will be taped.'

‘Why?'

‘So he cannot warn them he is sitting on a bomb.'

Ahlin pointed to a grey metal box on a shelf by the door. It was a 15-centimetre cube; a stemmed handle stuck up from the top. The handle was broad and flat-topped.

‘Pushing down the plunger does nothing. Releasing it again does.
Boom!'
Ahlin threw his arms in the air and laughed. ‘I built that myself. Originally I intended to use it to despatch Mr Gibson, the American. But I decided it would be better if something so potent and - I confess it, so unstable - did not travel too far before it was used.'

He leaned across and patted the side of the bomb casing. Erika stared at Andreas Wolff. His eyes looked sunken with despair.

‘What about the threat to blow up the naval yard?'

‘Sheer nonsense,' Ahlin said. ‘But they must take a threat like that seriously.' He nodded at Wolff. ‘People are valued, of course, especially clever ones like him, but property and investment and secrets - oh, they must be protected above
and beyond all else. The threat to blow up the yard guarantees delivery of the million dollars. A side benefit will be that a pleasing number of police and security forces will be deployed at the naval yard to no good end.'

Ahlin reached out and touched the bomb again, stroking it this time. ‘It is a big charge,' he said, ‘a huge one really, so when Herr Wolff stands up, there will be a lot of damage, many casualties, and an overriding confusion, during which we will speed away.'

Erika looked ill. ‘I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to see Gregor. I want to be with him more than anything.'

‘First you must come with me.'

‘Where? Norway?'

‘I'm sure that is what the authorities will think. But no. We will just go round the corner, geographically speaking. Remember, we have a job to finish in Germany. So we will creep back while the forces of law and order are looking for us everywhere but Germany, and we will complete the grand mission. After that…' Ahlin shrugged. ‘After that I don't know. Maybe by then I will have devised another mission.'

Erika looked at Wolff again. He was very pale. He sat staring at the floor.

‘I'm scared,' Erika said. ‘You'll get us killed.'

Outside, Mike and Sabrina had inched their way on deck, leaning along the rail, setting up a minimum of movement. Mike tiptoed to the
forward state-room porthole and put his eye to the edge. He turned to Sabrina and nodded. He eased the rifle off his shoulder and readied it. Sabrina pulled out her pistol and thumbed off the safety. They went down the six steps to the stateroom door on their toes.

Mike looked at Sabrina. He gently grasped the handle of the door and began to mouth a countdown from five. Sabrina nodded on each count. On
two
Mike eased the door open a fraction. On
one
he kicked it hard.

The door burst open with a crash.

Ahlin jumped back, nearly falling. Erika screamed and Andreas Wolff jumped to his feet. Mike leaped into the room holding the rifle at waist height. Sabrina was two paces behind him, standing on the bottom step, her pistol aimed at Ahlin's head.

‘Freezel' Mike yelled. ‘Don't move! Not a muscle!'

Ahlin's eyes rolled. He swayed, looking as if he might faint. He sank slowly to his knees. Mike was three paces away as Ahlin went down. When his shoulder hit the floor his hand snaked into his jacket pocket and pulled out a shiny silver pistol.

‘Watch it!' Sabrina yelled.

Ahlin fired at Andreas Wolff before Mike got to him. The bullet hit Wolff in the middle with a splintering sound and he fell back across the couch.

Mike's rifle butt clipped Ahlin on the chin. He landed unconscious in the corner. Mike snatched the pistol and pocketed it.

‘Let's go!' he yelled, pushing Erika towards the door. ‘Move!'

He took Wolff by the arms and pulled him to a sitting position. Wolff's eyes opened and he winced.

‘I don't think the bullet went into you,' Mike told him. ‘How do you feel? Can you stand up?'

Wolff nodded, gasping to pull in air, pointing to the waistband of his trousers.

‘The disks,' Mike said. ‘I know.' He pulled Wolff to his feet and pushed him through the state-room door. ‘Help him walk,' he told Erika.

‘Watch that box,' Erika called back out as Sabrina led them out on to the jetty. ‘It's a bomb. Reflex detonator, I think.'

Mike hoisted Ahlin off the floor by the armpits and leaned him against the wall. He pat-searched him then slapped his face until he came round. When the blue eyes fluttered open Mike spun him away from the wall and out on to the stairs.

‘He's coming up, Sabrina,' he shouted. ‘Keep the gun on him and shoot him if he puts one foot wrong.'

Mike shouldered the rifle and picked up the bomb. He carried it up on deck and set it carefully in the prow. As he straightened, Sabrina cried out. He saw her stumble aside, then he was pushed violently from behind.

‘Move aside, Mr Yankee Hero,' Ahlin rasped, staggering past Mike.

He turned and before Mike could grab him he
sat on the bomb. The plunger went down with a grating sound as it took his weight.

‘Now then,' he said, swaying, touching the side of the hull for support. ‘I think you and I should stay right here.'

‘I don't think so,' Mike said. He turned. ‘Get on shore, Sabrina. Run!'

‘If I stand up,' Ahlin said, ‘you'll come to paradise with me. Nobody can run fast enough to dodge this touch of nemesis.' He slapped the bomb beneath him. ‘Care to take me up on that?'

Mike said nothing. He looked at the others, at the far end of the jetty now, edging on to the path. Wolff moved slowly, staggering as Sabrina and Erika urged him to walk faster. They were still too close.

‘If you try anything, I'll stand up at once.' Ahlin clasped his hands behind his head. ‘Tell me now, does this seem oddly relaxed?' He raised his eyebrows. ‘It
does
look laid-back, no? But in fact it has a purpose.' Ahlin brought his hands away from his neck. The right hand held a revolver, identical to the one he used to shoot Wolff. ‘A jacket collar pocket. You have encountered it before, surely?'

He laughed and raised both arms above his head. Mike made a grab for the pistol. Ahlin threw it from one hand to the other.

‘Erika!' he shouted.

She turned. Ahlin fired the pistol at her. She dropped at Sabrina's feet.

‘For treachery!' Ahlin shouted, wincing as Mike tore the gun from his hand.

Sabrina knelt and touched Erika's neck. She looked up and shook her head.

‘You killed her,' Mike said.

‘She deserved it. So do you, Yank. Don't fret, it won't be long.'

Mike sighed. He eased the rifle up on his shoulder. ‘You're a savage. Einar. I'd like to break all your fingers, one after the other. But that would put me too close to your league.'

‘So what will you do?'

Mike reached out and put his hand flat on Ahlin's head, pressing down hard, keeping him seated. He pushed him back sharply. He was leaning on the hull, supported on either side by boxes.

‘A little anaesthetic.'

Mike slid his hand down off Ahlin's head and along the side of his neck. Ahlin's hands came up to defend himself but Mike's arm wouldn't be deflected. His fingers went under the collar of Ahlin's shirt and found the brachial plexus. He squeezed. Ahlin's head dropped forward. Mike stood back a second, then turned smartly and crossed the deck. He leapt on to the jetty and ran to the others.

‘Ten minutes, I'd say, before he comes round. How are you doing, Andreas?'

‘I could be much worse,' Wolff croaked. ‘I also could have had more luck.' He looked at Erika lying by the jetty. ‘Perhaps we all could.'

‘It's been one of those days.' Mike crouched to pick up Erika's body. ‘Help Andreas up the hill, will you, Sabrina? While there's a lull, I think we should get ourselves to a safe vantage point.'

Four minutes later a police firearms unit arrived. They brought with them a senior officer, who carried an attaché case with a million dollars in used bills.

Mike explained the situation. The tension among the policemen ebbed.

‘There's nothing to do but wait,' Mike said.

Erika's body was put on a stretcher, covered with a blanket and placed in the back of the police wagon. The marksmen took up positions on the hill overlooking the jetty, their tele-sights trained on the unconscious man in the launch. Mike sat on the grass talking quietly to Andreas Wolff, who was feeling sick.

As the minutes ticked away Sabrina realized some of the men were moving further down the hill.

‘Stay back!' she warned. ‘That's a big charge he's sitting on!'

Some of them took notice. Others froze where they were, re-positioning their guns, re-focusing their sights.

From where Sabrina stood she could see the launch clearly. She didn't want a close-up. She could make out Einar Ahlin's shape in the prow. She could see him moving. Ahlin's neck straightened, he rubbed the back of his head, then cupped
both hands over his eyes. As his hands dropped away he looked up at the hillside.

‘He doesn't understand what's happening,' a policeman said. ‘He's dazed.'

‘I hope he stays that way,' Sabrina said.

She saw Ahlin rub his eyes, as if he might sink back and go to sleep again. Then abruptly he stood up.

Everybody seemed to stop breathing. Ahlin stood motionless, looking round at where he had been sitting. He stiffened visibly, then took a step away from the prow.

The bomb went off with a blinding gold flash. A second later the roar travelled up the hillside and behind it the shockwave, bending bushes, knocking over a gun tripod and whipping off hats and spectacles.

Debris began to land like rain. The air was filled with cloudy vapour. Some of that, Sabrina thought, was Einar Ahlin. He was now what explosives experts referred to as pink mist.

‘So it's over,' Andreas Wolff said. ‘One less lunatic, making space for one more.'

28

‘The police are here, so are the medical services, and there are one or two people I suspect are Federal German Security,' Sabrina told Philpott over the mobile phone. ‘It's a circus. Thanks to Mike's touch of ingenuity with Einar Ahlin, it's a very grisly circus. There's nothing left of the boat, apart from flotsam.'

Philpott asked how badly Wolff was hurt.

‘The bullet hit him right in the software, sir. Four metal-and-plastic laminated disks of it. Didn't even break his skin, but I think he's going to have a badly bruised abdomen.'

‘Did those four disks represent all of the security protocols?' Philpott said. He sounded grim.

‘I haven't asked yet. But considering the amount of data even one of those disks can hold, I would imagine he'd get everything on to four of them.'

‘Maybe he had back-ups.'

‘Opticals are pretty secure. People don't tend to make extra copies.'

‘Well thank you for poking those rays of golden light into my day,' Philpott said. ‘Call me back when you have more to report.'

‘I certainly will.'

‘Next time we speak I'll have details of your next mission.'

‘It's cooking already?'

‘C.W. is on the case. You know what they say about there being no rest for the wicked.'

‘Why should that apply to a virtuous soul like me?'

Philpott grunted. ‘Any other time I'd enjoy this light-hearted blather, Sabrina, but in view of what's likely to happen to ICON, you'll pardon me if I remain grumpy. Call me soon.'

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