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Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Wednesday, 27 January, 8:00 a.m.
––––––––
The things Sanchez had said before drifting off to sleep played through my mind. The request he had received was for any man, as long as the man was desperate for work. Don Peo had fit the requirements, as he carried the financial responsibility of taking care of his ageing parents and nieces and nephew after his brother- and sister-in-law died months apart. Cardiac arrest, and a work-related injury. This had left four children orphaned, and Don Peo desperate. Sanchez had also said what the life of a human being was worth to him – 50 000 euros. Four people murdered for 200 000 euros.
Biggie had identified himself as Claus Rheeder when he first contacted Sanchez. None of the Claus Rheeders I found online matched Biggie in appearance. Even before I started digging, I expected it to be another dead end. Frustration bubbled inside me. For failing to apprehend the killer and put a stop to the murders. Three people were murdered since I learned about this serial killer's existence. Alicia Rideout lay in the ICU. Aidan read her medical reports and said her body would make a full recovery. Her mind and soul? Time would tell. People process trauma in different ways, and I hoped Alicia would survive the aftermath.
Aidan and Rowan walked into the command centre. One placed a plate in front of me, the other a mug of coffee. Perhaps it was time I prepared a meal for them, or at least made them a cup of coffee.
"Why are you searching for a Claus Rheeder?" Rowan asked staring at the screens.
Aidan told him what Sanchez said, while I dug into the spinach and feta omelette. "I've only heard the name once before. Years ago, when Dad mentioned it," Aidan said.
I turned to him. "Context?"
Aidan leaned his hip against the table. "Claus Rheeder was the head of the BSS. One of the best trained black ops teams in the world. They were devoted to their country, and the doctrine of their head of state. The whole king and country thing. Their commander-in-chief made them a hit squad, and they took out anyone—"
"The dragon tattoo. Biggie could be Claus Rheeder, or another member of their team." The white mug dwarfed by Rowan's big hands.
Aidan shook his head and pulled his laptop closer. "Claus Rheeder is dead, dad took the photo."
The buckshot left little in terms of visual confirmation that the disfigured body I stared at belonged to Claus Rheeder. I told Aidan so, he laughed. "Dad pulled the trigger. If he says that's Rheeder, then it is."
"A black ops division who drifted out of white waters and into the black?"
"No, they were never in white waters. The BSS was founded and operatives were trained for a single purpose – to eliminate enemies."
"I know what BS stands for, but what's BSS?" I smiled when Aidan rolled his eyes at me.
"Bergia's Secret Service. Two of their operatives got away; their whereabouts are unknown. Dad tried to hunt them down, but these guys were trained as well as we are."
Aidan turned his focus to Rowan. "The dragon tattoo. They all had it on their right shoulders. Are you sure this is the design you saw on Biggie's hand?"
An intricate black dragon appeared on screen. The ink on a dead man's shoulder.
"The one on his hand is much smaller, it loses some of the detail, but the lines which form the wings caught my attention the first time. Then when he exited the tattoo studio in Zurich, I noticed the tail. The multiple hooks at the tip look more like something Finley used during her Hangwoman days than a dragon's tail."
I walked to the screen and memorised every detail. If we were in luck, I would see it on Biggie's hand at the party. "Cat-o'-nine-tails." My focus on the ink and not what remained of the man's face. "If they were a death squad, this minor detail makes sense."
I had studied the world map for hours on end, staring at the red dots indicating the locations of the murders. For the life of me, I couldn't recall seeing Bergia. Before I reached my laptop, Aidan displayed the world map on another screen and enlarged it.
Bergia lay landlocked between Lithuania to the north, Belarus to the east and south, and Poland their western neighbour. The entire country the size of New York City.
"Four hundred years ago, Bergia occupied a much larger area of that part of Europe. Their original capital was next to the Baltic Sea. Countless wars, and poor money management by generations of rulers forced them to sell off most of the land. Or they lost control of it during the wars." Aidan drank the last of his coffee. "Their current ruler and I met years ago during my second last tour."
I lifted my arm into the air and waved it around.
Aidan laughed. "Yes, Mrs Walker?"
"Fortius took out the BSS; on whose instruction?"
"King Szymon's."
Again, my arm shot up. Aidan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. He nodded, and I asked, "King? Did you meet him during the war?"
"Yes, and yes. Szymon believes a true leader leads from the front, like the kings did throughout the ages. Not the way politicians operate now by sending in troops to get slaughtered while they sit in the safety of their comfortable offices, giving orders when they've never even been in the line of fire."
"I like him already." I've always respected the kings and queens of old. They were on the battlefield, fighting alongside their warriors, dying with them.
"I thought you would. Szymon's grandfather founded the BSS, and like I said, they were nothing but a death squad. Once Szymon sat on the throne, he contacted me and asked for my help with solving his inherited problem. He thought I could take them out one by one from a far. I told him with their training a blitzkrieg was the only option. I asked him to leave it to me, and within twenty-four hours we took down eighteen of their twenty operatives."
"Twenty? That's not much of a secret service." I shrugged and rubbed my hands together. "Guess for a country that small you wouldn't need more than twenty. Did Szymon's father share in the grandfather's doctrine?"
"Szymon I died when Szymon II was twelve-years-old. He was next in line of succession. Women weren't allowed to rule, so none of Szymon the first's sisters could become queen. The second Szymon has since changed that law, and many others."
"Why did Szymon ask you to annihilate them?"
"The citizens feared for their lives with the BSS taking out anyone King Mikolaj suspected of being a threat to his sovereignty. They even eliminated supposed threats in other countries. Szymon wanted his people to know he had no intention of ruling the way his grandfather did, through fear or tyranny. With their training and the little support they had from factions both in Bergia and neighbouring countries, Szymon didn't have a choice but to make such a drastic decision."
I pushed to my feet and paced the length of the floor to ceiling windows. "Biggie might be one of the two who got away. Is it possible that the other is our killer, if we stick to the assumption that Biggie's role is that of a helper and not the actual killer?"
Rowan cleared his throat. "Alicia Rideout didn't mention him being older."
"Not if he wore a disguise. I've seen how Quinn can transform her face with special effects makeup." I turned to Aidan. "We might've found the two BSS operatives who got away."