Chapter 17
Berlin
Elena called Simon to pass on the message and he agreed to come to her room before Waldheim showed up. Elena was not sure about the reason the agent wanted to see them, but compared to the dead-end she had confronted that afternoon, any progress had to be good.
After a quick shower, she readied herself for her guests, looking out of the window into the courtyard below. The hotel was built as a square, around an open courtyard where guests could, given more clement weather, have drinks and snacks. It was snowing once more, the plants below looking like icing sugar was being gently shaken over them.
The hotel had been substantially renovated, and, while the original shell had been retained, the rooms and decor gave no hint of its age, representing more the slightly bland Euro-chic of the big chains Everything was tasteful and efficiently designed, but little was individual, and certainly nothing could give offence. Elena put on some lipstick and sat on the brown sofa, waiting, and wondering why she, unusually, felt the need for make-up.
The door-bell rang and she let Simon in to her room. His was the same layout, but on a lower floor. Whereas Simon’s room was covered in his belongings, tidiness never being top of his priority list, Elena’s room gave no clue that anyone actually occupied it. He was sure that everything was neatly stowed in the drawers and wardrobe, probably colour-coded. They chatted idly while waiting for Waldheim to arrive, speculating on the news he would bring.
Downstairs, Axel, wearing the Green BKA jacket he kept for special occasions, approached the front desk and quickly flashed a badge at the receptionist. Had she looked closer, she would have seen that it was a military police badge. However, conditioned to respect authority, she immediately acceded to his request and gave him Elena’s room number.
Taking the lift to the fifth floor, he ducked round a corner and prepared his equipment. He took his knives out of his backpack and slipping one into each pocket of his jacket. He also took a small black box out of his bag and slipped it into the waistband of his trousers. He turned back round the corner and strode down the corridor, past a room-service waiter wearing the usual uniform of white shirt and black bow-tie. Given the bottle of champagne on the trolley, someone was in for a good evening. Sadly, it would not be the occupant of room 527 and her friend.
Ringing the doorbell, Axel waited to be let in. “Yes?”
“Inspector Stahlberg?”
“Yes. Who are you?”
“I am Agent Axel Merkens of the BKA. Agent Waldheim is downstairs on an urgent phone call. He told me to come up.”
The door opened, a slight pretty blonde woman behind it. She was dressed in black, but very attractive. “Please come in, Agent Merkens”
He followed her down the short corridor, into the main room. The large bed was to the right, with a small seating area on the left. A man was standing by the sofa, medium build, sandy hair. Axel recognised him from the embarrassing afternoon in Oxford. Revenge would be sweet.
The woman offered him a drink which he declined, he was on duty after all, and they sat to wait for Agent Waldheim. The silence was uncomfortable, there was something about Merkens which made both Elena and Simon wary, so to break the ice, Simon asked why Waldheim wanted to see them.
“He wouldn’t tell me, sir. Agent Waldheim is like that, keeps his cards close to his chest.”
“Have you found the book?’
“I don’t know anything about a book, sir. I’m not much of a reader myself, prefer to be outdoors.”
Silence descended again. Simon asked if he might take a beer from the mini-bar, as much to give him something to do as because he wanted a drink. Elena nodded, and asked for one for herself. Simon fetched them and set two glasses on the coffee table.
The distraction was all Axel needed. Slipping his hand beside his back, he removed the small black box he had secreted there earlier. Slightly curved, and with a molded grip, the box ended in four metal prongs. Moving it into contact with the small of Simon’s back, he simultaneously pressed the trigger button at the top of the grip. With 300 kilovolts of electricity, about the same as goes through a high voltage power line, now coursing through his nervous system, Simon lost all muscle control. His legs giving way, he slumped forward over the table, a burning sensation overtaking every inch of his body.
With a fluid motion, Axel reached into his pocket and, withdrawing one of his knives, struck Simon viciously on the back of the head. Stun guns only function for as long as they are in contact with the body, so while Simon was in shock, and a not inconsiderable amount of pain, the only way to subdue him while he moved on to Elena was to knock him out.
Seeing the attack on Simon, Elena had rushed to the built-in wardrobe which lined the entry-way, seeking the pistol she carried with her wherever they went. Carrying a license and a permit from Interpol as a police officer, it had caused them various customs delays in their journey round Europe, but might now it would surely prove its worth. Fingers stabbing at the combination lock on the safe, her shirt rose over her hips, revealing a bare patch of skin above her jeans. It was all Axel needed. Lunging with the stun gun again, he gave her a sickening jolt.
Like Simon, she crumbled, her head hitting the steel safe, knocking her out and completing Axel’s job for him.
Quickly, he manhandled her back into the main room. Arranging two chairs opposite each other, he placed Simon on one and, reaching into his backpack once more, withdrew two pairs of plastic cuffs. Using one to secure Simon’s hands behind the chair, he used a length of Sterling Fusion nano rope to tie his legs.
Repeating the process on Elena, he sat on the sofa and started to sip at the beers left on the table as he waited for them to wake up.Feeling warm, he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
Simon was the first to come to, the room swimming before him as be became aware of the thumping pain in his head. Trying to rub himself where it hurt, he realised that he could not move his hands, and, shortly after, that he could do nothing with his legs either. It was then he became aware of Elena sitting opposite him, her head slumped on her chest, a livid mark on her cheek and forehead.
Grunting, he looked around, and saw the stocky figure sitting on the sofa, beer in hand and a smug grin on his face. His skin was weathered, showing a life spent outdoors, and his dark hair had been shaved to his scalp. Seeing Simon waken, Axel grinned, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. A runic tattoo ran down his powerful forearm.
“Welcome back Dr Pelham, I trust you enjoyed your sleep.”
Simon grunted and struggled against his bonds once more.
“Go on, Dr Pelham, but I’d be very surprised if you managed to get anywhere. I have been sent here to kill you.”
Simon roared and struggled again.
“Any more of that and I’ll gag you.” His voice was harsh, leaving Simon in no doubt about the truth of his statement.
“While we wait for you friend, I should tell you something Dr Pelham. You see, we have met before. You were lucky that time, but I’m afraid luck runs out. Yours is just about to.”
“When did we meet?”
“A few weeks ago, in Oxford.”
It hit Simon, this must be the man who ransacked his room, and almost killed him. Memories of that incident flooding back, Simon saw the pair of knives resting on the table and shivered. Fear snapping his brain into true wakefulness.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to kill me?”
“Oh, I’m not trying Dr Pelham, I will succeed this time. Unless you have any rugby players hiding in the bathroom.” Axel guffawed at his joke.
“But why?’ Simon persisted.
“I am only following orders.”
“Many of you countrymen tried that line. It didn’t get them very far.”
“Victor’s justice. But I am not here to have a discussion with you, Dr Pelham, I am here to kill you. We are just waiting for the inspector before I proceed.”
“Don’t you want to know what we know?”
‘You don’t know anything. I am not here to interrogate you, only to kill you. I have told you that. Please be quiet, or I will make you.”
The threat was enough to stop Simon. So he concentrated on Elena, willing her to remain unconscious while he tried to work a way out of their predicament. Unfortunately, his wishes were in vain as she began to stir.
Elena’s reaction to the experience was similar to Simon’s, if somewhat more violent. Unleashing a stream of German invective, she started screaming at their captor. Axel told her to shut up, but she ignored him and earned herself a backhanded slap across the face. Her head cracked back against the chair and she fell silent, blood dripping from her cut lip.
“Now that we’re all comfortable, we can begin” Axel announced, smiling. “As I was telling your friend here, Inspector, I was sent here to kill you. I’m not interested in talking to you, so don’t think that you will be able to get out of this. You won’t.”
“However, your friend here and I have history together, and, unfortunately, that means that I am not in the mood to be merciful.
“I could have killed you both already, but, I have not. You see, I like killing and I enjoy it. I once took four hours to kill a towelhead in Afghanistan. You should have heard him scream. He just went on and on, until I cut his tongue out. He was a tough old bastard though, I have to give him that. Most people wouldn’t have lasted two hours. Didn’t help him though, just made him suffer more.
‘Let’s see how long you last, shall we. I’ve got all day, and I will take my time. Now, where should I start?”
He looked at them both, like a child choosing between two ice creams. Reaching once more into the backpack, he pulled out two bandanas. Twisting them until they were cylindrical, he used them to gag first Elena and then Simon.
“I knew I could trust you to be quiet when we were talking, but once I start, then I know you won’t.”
Picking up one of the knives, its evil blade glinting in the light of the spotlights mounted in the ceiling, he made his decision and stood in front of Elena.
Berlin
Elena called Simon to pass on the message and he agreed to come to her room before Waldheim showed up. Elena was not sure about the reason the agent wanted to see them, but compared to the dead-end she had confronted that afternoon, any progress had to be good.
After a quick shower, she readied herself for her guests, looking out of the window into the courtyard below. The hotel was built as a square, around an open courtyard where guests could, given more clement weather, have drinks and snacks. It was snowing once more, the plants below looking like icing sugar was being gently shaken over them.
The hotel had been substantially renovated, and, while the original shell had been retained, the rooms and decor gave no hint of its age, representing more the slightly bland Euro-chic of the big chains Everything was tasteful and efficiently designed, but little was individual, and certainly nothing could give offence. Elena put on some lipstick and sat on the brown sofa, waiting, and wondering why she, unusually, felt the need for make-up.
The door-bell rang and she let Simon in to her room. His was the same layout, but on a lower floor. Whereas Simon’s room was covered in his belongings, tidiness never being top of his priority list, Elena’s room gave no clue that anyone actually occupied it. He was sure that everything was neatly stowed in the drawers and wardrobe, probably colour-coded. They chatted idly while waiting for Waldheim to arrive, speculating on the news he would bring.
Downstairs, Axel, wearing the Green BKA jacket he kept for special occasions, approached the front desk and quickly flashed a badge at the receptionist. Had she looked closer, she would have seen that it was a military police badge. However, conditioned to respect authority, she immediately acceded to his request and gave him Elena’s room number.
Taking the lift to the fifth floor, he ducked round a corner and prepared his equipment. He took his knives out of his backpack and slipping one into each pocket of his jacket. He also took a small black box out of his bag and slipped it into the waistband of his trousers. He turned back round the corner and strode down the corridor, past a room-service waiter wearing the usual uniform of white shirt and black bow-tie. Given the bottle of champagne on the trolley, someone was in for a good evening. Sadly, it would not be the occupant of room 527 and her friend.
Ringing the doorbell, Axel waited to be let in. “Yes?”
“Inspector Stahlberg?”
“Yes. Who are you?”
“I am Agent Axel Merkens of the BKA. Agent Waldheim is downstairs on an urgent phone call. He told me to come up.”
The door opened, a slight pretty blonde woman behind it. She was dressed in black, but very attractive. “Please come in, Agent Merkens”
He followed her down the short corridor, into the main room. The large bed was to the right, with a small seating area on the left. A man was standing by the sofa, medium build, sandy hair. Axel recognised him from the embarrassing afternoon in Oxford. Revenge would be sweet.
The woman offered him a drink which he declined, he was on duty after all, and they sat to wait for Agent Waldheim. The silence was uncomfortable, there was something about Merkens which made both Elena and Simon wary, so to break the ice, Simon asked why Waldheim wanted to see them.
“He wouldn’t tell me, sir. Agent Waldheim is like that, keeps his cards close to his chest.”
“Have you found the book?’
“I don’t know anything about a book, sir. I’m not much of a reader myself, prefer to be outdoors.”
Silence descended again. Simon asked if he might take a beer from the mini-bar, as much to give him something to do as because he wanted a drink. Elena nodded, and asked for one for herself. Simon fetched them and set two glasses on the coffee table.
The distraction was all Axel needed. Slipping his hand beside his back, he removed the small black box he had secreted there earlier. Slightly curved, and with a molded grip, the box ended in four metal prongs. Moving it into contact with the small of Simon’s back, he simultaneously pressed the trigger button at the top of the grip. With 300 kilovolts of electricity, about the same as goes through a high voltage power line, now coursing through his nervous system, Simon lost all muscle control. His legs giving way, he slumped forward over the table, a burning sensation overtaking every inch of his body.
With a fluid motion, Axel reached into his pocket and, withdrawing one of his knives, struck Simon viciously on the back of the head. Stun guns only function for as long as they are in contact with the body, so while Simon was in shock, and a not inconsiderable amount of pain, the only way to subdue him while he moved on to Elena was to knock him out.
Seeing the attack on Simon, Elena had rushed to the built-in wardrobe which lined the entry-way, seeking the pistol she carried with her wherever they went. Carrying a license and a permit from Interpol as a police officer, it had caused them various customs delays in their journey round Europe, but might now it would surely prove its worth. Fingers stabbing at the combination lock on the safe, her shirt rose over her hips, revealing a bare patch of skin above her jeans. It was all Axel needed. Lunging with the stun gun again, he gave her a sickening jolt.
Like Simon, she crumbled, her head hitting the steel safe, knocking her out and completing Axel’s job for him.
Quickly, he manhandled her back into the main room. Arranging two chairs opposite each other, he placed Simon on one and, reaching into his backpack once more, withdrew two pairs of plastic cuffs. Using one to secure Simon’s hands behind the chair, he used a length of Sterling Fusion nano rope to tie his legs.
Repeating the process on Elena, he sat on the sofa and started to sip at the beers left on the table as he waited for them to wake up.Feeling warm, he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
Simon was the first to come to, the room swimming before him as be became aware of the thumping pain in his head. Trying to rub himself where it hurt, he realised that he could not move his hands, and, shortly after, that he could do nothing with his legs either. It was then he became aware of Elena sitting opposite him, her head slumped on her chest, a livid mark on her cheek and forehead.
Grunting, he looked around, and saw the stocky figure sitting on the sofa, beer in hand and a smug grin on his face. His skin was weathered, showing a life spent outdoors, and his dark hair had been shaved to his scalp. Seeing Simon waken, Axel grinned, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. A runic tattoo ran down his powerful forearm.
“Welcome back Dr Pelham, I trust you enjoyed your sleep.”
Simon grunted and struggled against his bonds once more.
“Go on, Dr Pelham, but I’d be very surprised if you managed to get anywhere. I have been sent here to kill you.”
Simon roared and struggled again.
“Any more of that and I’ll gag you.” His voice was harsh, leaving Simon in no doubt about the truth of his statement.
“While we wait for you friend, I should tell you something Dr Pelham. You see, we have met before. You were lucky that time, but I’m afraid luck runs out. Yours is just about to.”
“When did we meet?”
“A few weeks ago, in Oxford.”
It hit Simon, this must be the man who ransacked his room, and almost killed him. Memories of that incident flooding back, Simon saw the pair of knives resting on the table and shivered. Fear snapping his brain into true wakefulness.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to kill me?”
“Oh, I’m not trying Dr Pelham, I will succeed this time. Unless you have any rugby players hiding in the bathroom.” Axel guffawed at his joke.
“But why?’ Simon persisted.
“I am only following orders.”
“Many of you countrymen tried that line. It didn’t get them very far.”
“Victor’s justice. But I am not here to have a discussion with you, Dr Pelham, I am here to kill you. We are just waiting for the inspector before I proceed.”
“Don’t you want to know what we know?”
‘You don’t know anything. I am not here to interrogate you, only to kill you. I have told you that. Please be quiet, or I will make you.”
The threat was enough to stop Simon. So he concentrated on Elena, willing her to remain unconscious while he tried to work a way out of their predicament. Unfortunately, his wishes were in vain as she began to stir.
Elena’s reaction to the experience was similar to Simon’s, if somewhat more violent. Unleashing a stream of German invective, she started screaming at their captor. Axel told her to shut up, but she ignored him and earned herself a backhanded slap across the face. Her head cracked back against the chair and she fell silent, blood dripping from her cut lip.
“Now that we’re all comfortable, we can begin” Axel announced, smiling. “As I was telling your friend here, Inspector, I was sent here to kill you. I’m not interested in talking to you, so don’t think that you will be able to get out of this. You won’t.”
“However, your friend here and I have history together, and, unfortunately, that means that I am not in the mood to be merciful.
“I could have killed you both already, but, I have not. You see, I like killing and I enjoy it. I once took four hours to kill a towelhead in Afghanistan. You should have heard him scream. He just went on and on, until I cut his tongue out. He was a tough old bastard though, I have to give him that. Most people wouldn’t have lasted two hours. Didn’t help him though, just made him suffer more.
‘Let’s see how long you last, shall we. I’ve got all day, and I will take my time. Now, where should I start?”
He looked at them both, like a child choosing between two ice creams. Reaching once more into the backpack, he pulled out two bandanas. Twisting them until they were cylindrical, he used them to gag first Elena and then Simon.
“I knew I could trust you to be quiet when we were talking, but once I start, then I know you won’t.”
Picking up one of the knives, its evil blade glinting in the light of the spotlights mounted in the ceiling, he made his decision and stood in front of Elena.
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