Wearing a pair of night-vision goggles, Karen Frost followed Troy Savage as they raced down an interior hallway after disabling two guards who had been stumbling about in the dark while trying to reach the side of the mansion facing the fire.
Almost too easily, she thought, blaring alarms drowning the thudding of their black rubber-soled hiking boots on the hardwood floors.
And what alarmed her even more was the fact that the interior emergency lighting system did not kick in after the west team blew up the transformers feeding the mansion—something that worked to their advantage as the seasoned operatives pressed on, their goggles amplifying their sight in the otherwise murky surroundings.
“Looks like the surveillance cameras are also off,” Troy whispered, pointing at the dark cameras while rushing past expensive artwork on light-colored walls beneath evenly spaced ornate chandeliers that no longer provided any illumination.
Things just didn’t feel right, and on top of that, the place resembled a war museum. Shelves packed with different types of weapons—knives, revolvers, swords, and much more from different periods—lined the walls along with medals, uniforms, and framed photographs. The hallway ended in a large foyer connecting to other rooms as well as to a set of wide stairs. And the same war theme decorated the foyer and stairs. “Looks like our man is quite the collector,” Karen finally said, pointing at all of the paraphernalia.
Shrugging while removing his small rucksack, Troy opened the flap, stuck his hand inside, did something that triggered three short beeps, and then closed the flap and hid the rucksack behind a pair of framed black-and-white photographs standing on a table in between two shelves near the foot of the stairs. The faded images were of Nazi soldiers fighting in the snow.
“What’s that?” Karen asked.
“Insurance,” he replied, checking his watch and pressing a button on the side.
“Troy, what’s in there?” she insisted.
Karen could see Savage’s green face smiling before he said, “Let’s keep moving.”
The short corridor spilled into a large living room, empty, dark, just like the two previous rooms they had searched near the rear of the mansion.
“Where’s everybody?” Karen hissed, scanning the luxurious living room with her silenced submachine gun, her eyes rushing past traditional furniture over a gigantic Persian rug, all beneath more of those elaborate chandeliers hanging at the ends of thick chains.
Through her goggles Karen saw every detail in the room as she searched for anything that moved. Bookcases lined two of the walls. Large windows dominated the third wall. Flames pulsated in the night beyond the windowpanes; their light, displayed in hues of green, flickered inside the room. Figures ran in many directions outside, some spraying the contents of their fire extinguishers against the growing inferno, apparently in vain. The fire continued to expand, jumping from tree to tree like an angered demon.
The diversions were working, but there was no sign of Hartmann, Deppe, and the rest of the CyberWerke inner circle, whom Troy’s spotters in Berlin had seen arriving the day before—confirming the intelligence extracted from Rem Vlachko.
“They have to be somewhere in this house,” said Savage, also armed with a suppressed Beretta, before pointing its bulky silencer toward a pair of double doors leading to what appeared to be another large living area.
They headed in that direction, covering each other as they advanced, Karen keeping an eye on their rear while Savage worried about their front.
The living room did connect to another large area, the mansion’s main dining room—at least judging by the long banquet table and dozen chairs on each side.
But again, the place was empty.
“I don’t like this,” said Karen.
“Weird,” replied Savage, his face dark with camouflage cream beneath the goggles, like Karen’s.
Peering at the surge of activity beyond the windows, Karen said, “Maybe the distractions worked better than anticipated.”
“Or maybe we’re being set up.”
“Let’s check the upstairs—”
The overheads suddenly came on, blinding her. Karen ripped off her goggles, blinking to clear her sight.
“What in the hell—” Savage began to say.
“Good evening,” said a distinguished male voice in heavily accented English. “We’ve been expecting you.”
Karen and Savage found themselves staring at six armed guards flanking two men dressed in business suits, one about six inches taller than the other, both in their fifties.
“Your weapons!” said one of the guards in heavily accented English. “Drop them now!”
Savage looked at Karen and nodded. They complied, letting the weapons fall on the floor.
“Kick them away from you and put your hands on your heads,” the same guard ordered.
They complied in silence. Both MP5T submachine guns skittered away from them.
“You seriously didn’t expect to cut off our power just by destroying a few transformers outside the house, did you?” Rolf Hartmann asked in his lightly accented English. “Just like you didn’t really expect to break into my house this easily?”
“Have you any idea just how much trouble you have made for us?” Christoff Deppe asked.
“And we’re just getting warmed up,” said Savage, to Karen’s pleasant surprise. Even when facing staggering odds, the former Navy SEAL didn’t lose his arrogance.
“Don’t you realize it is over for you?”
“Wanna bet?” asked Savage.
“The authorities are on the way,” said Hartmann. “You and your terrorist friends will be taken into custody for threatening our lives as well the lives of our guests, who are safely upstairs in their rooms.”
“And don’t forget about what you bastards did at the Reichstag,” added Deppe. “You’re going to burn for this.”
“We have proof that you are the ones associated with terrorists,” said Karen.
Deppe smiled, taking two steps toward them. “I seriously hope you don’t mean the silly video you made of me and Rem the other night,” he said to Karen.
“The evidence of your connection with that international terrorist has made it to our government,” she replied.
“Ah, that,” said Hartmann, arms behind his back as he looked into the distance. “Of course. But there is a slight problem, you see. Nobody in Germany cares about any reports or accusations coming from the United States, particularly after the weapons used to kill our chancellor and the Parliament originated in USN, in your country, and we especially could care less what your nation has to say after it disabled our communications satellites in a feeble attempt to destabilize our infrastructure during this transitional process. Besides, don’t forget that the origin of this so-called proof of our association with terrorists is none other than the terrorists responsible for the killings at my associate’s house right here on the outskirts of Berlin.”
“Like we said,” added Christoff Deppe, “it’s all over for you. You and your entire criminal ring will be in prison within the hour, and there will be no extradition arrangements. You will be tried, sentenced, and executed in Germany under our laws.”
“Why, Hartmann?” asked Savage. “Why did you do it? Why did you have to kill the German chancellor and the entire Parliament? Wasn’t it enough to be at the head of the largest corporation in the world? You are a man who has everything. Everything. What compelled you to go to this extreme and risk it all if it backfired?”
“The world is due a change, my dear friends,” Hartmann replied. “America has not demonstrated the kind of leadership required to placate international terrorism. Sure, America tried to do the right thing in Afghanistan and Iraq almost a decade ago, but after a few years of those initial victories against world tyranny and terrorism, the momentum was lost with the new White House administration. What the world needs is a consistent iron fist, an all-powerful and unquestionable ruler who will not be shaken by opinion polls or be concerned about reelections, a ruler who will do what is right irrespective of the opinion of special-interest groups.”
“And I take it that this ruler will be you?” asked Karen.
“Of course,” replied Hartmann matter-of-factly. “Look at what I have accomplished in the corporate world. I intend to apply the same strategy to the rest of the world.”
“You’re insane, Hartmann,” said Savage. “You too, Deppe.”
“Are we, Mr. Savage? I have just given you the facts. The world is in a state of havoc, and America, despite all of its might, isn’t intrepid enough to do what is right, to uproot the evil that is international terrorism.”
“But that’s the thing,” said Karen. “You talk about eliminating terrorism, yet you choose to associate yourself with terrorists like Rem Vlachko.”
“Face it, Hartmann. You’re nothing but a hypocrite.”
“That was just a temporary allegiance of convenience,” CyberWerke’s CEO replied in his groomed accent without missing a beat, obviously used to being directly criticized. Karen had to give him credit. The man surely knew how to carry himself, even if his mind was operating deep in Fantasyland. “I used him to achieve a greater goal.”
“Just like you used the chancellor and the members of Parliament?”
“Ten years from now the world will be a safer place because of that short-term sacrifice,” replied Deppe.
“Ten years from now you two will be long forgotten, because you will not get away with this,” said Savage.
“You will not get away with this, Hartmann,” repeated Karen. “We will not allow you to poison the minds of the German people.”
“But that’s the thing,” Hartmann said. “We are not poisoning their minds. We are letting them make up their own minds about the kind of government they want to have. And so far their voice has been quite unanimous.”
“And as for you two,” said Deppe, “this feeble attempt to rob Germany of its new leadership will only help our cause.”
Savage smiled. “You don’t seriously think we would come here with just a dozen operatives, some weapons, and a few pounds of explosives, did you?”
The two German executives shared a brief glance before returning their glares to the captured operatives.
Checking his watch before giving Karen a get-ready nod, Troy said, “You don’t really think that the one true superpower on this planet would send just a group of operatives to bring down the man who is threatening to turn Germany into another monster, did you?”
Before Hartmann and Deppe can reply, a loud explosion rocked the building. As the guards looked about them, puzzled, Troy Savage uncoiled and charged toward the German executives.