The Lure of the Pack (24 page)

“Now Helga, if you please.”

“Of course.” Helga Zeist walked nimbly across Otto Von
Kurst’s office and opened a filing cabinet. She pulled out a large polythene
bag and brought it back to where they were all sitting.

“Gentlemen,” continued Von Kurst, “these are raincoats for
you to wear, along with two shoulder holsters. As you can see, the raincoats
are black, to assist with both your own and your weaponry’s concealment. Now,
the…” Von Kurst paused for a moment, “…clothing you are currently wearing, is
it comfortable?” Falck and Kempler looked at each other and nodded.

“Comfortable enough for our requirements my Fuhrer, after
all, we will not be in human form for very long, so it is if no great concern.”

“What about your shoes?” asked Helga, “are they
comfortable?”

“Fine, Herr Fraulein Zeist! We have adapted. They will do,”
replied Kempler. Helga nodded.

“Excellent…” Von Kurst opened another drawer in his desk and
produced a large bundle of Euros, “help yourselves to cash. It may come in
handy, especially for you Fritz, being at the airport.” Kempler nodded in
agreement. “Now, Helga will organise food for you from our canteen. Eat
heartily my friends! Jurgen, when I leave the office later, follow me, but at a
distance. I am sure you will soon sense your prey. Take the black BMW; it is
parked next to mine.” Another set of car keys was produced and passed to Falck,
“once you have both located the scum who follow Wilhelm and I, stay with them
at all times.” Von Kurst stood up, his face full of pride and excitement,
“remember my friends, I am relying on your tried and tested skills. Do not fail
me, and…good hunting!”

It was 13.32 hours and Ash Piper was sat bolt upright in
front of Commander Hertschell and Colonel Mann. “We’ll be with you every inch
of the way Ash, you can depend on it!” Even though Charles Mann sounded
supremely confident regarding the planning of the infiltration to VKE’s
promotional cocktail evening, Piper felt a deep sense of unease, his thoughts
returning to Jeanette’s comments about Daniel in the lion’s den and the
flippant manner in which he had spoken to her. Now, in many ways, he regretted
it. “Right, this is your Financial Times I.D. card and of course,” the Colonel
let out a hearty smile, “what self respecting newspaper reporter would travel
without his business cards?”

Piper reached over and picked up a small box of cards, each
measuring 90mm x 55mm. He opened the box and took one out. He smiled, “very
impressive.”

“Yes, it never ceases to amaze me what our Mister Lucas can
do on those bloody computers. He printed them early this morning. We based the
layout on standard issue business cards from the F.T. itself. The address,
telephone numbers even Oliver Drake’s own mobile phone number, are all on
there.”

“Good, now Colonel, talking of mobile phones,” Piper picked
up the phone on the coffee table in front of him, “as you are both well aware,
once I’m inside, this is the only lifeline I have with CEATA.”

“Indeed so! Nick has programmed a host of individual numbers
into the mobile’s directory, obviously to make it look as though it is utilised
for business. Of course, the only number you need to know, is this one.” The
Colonel passed a sheet of notepaper over to Piper, “memorize it!” Piper took
the paper and looked at it. He closed his eyes, concentrating carefully. He
looked again at the paper, then ripped it up and threw the remnants into the
waste paper bin near the Commander’s desk. “Good, as I said Sergeant, from the
moment you arrive in Dusseldorf we will be watching you, like a hawk watches
its prey. The satellite is already in position. When you enter the VKE building
tomorrow evening, wherever you go, whatever room you go into, we will be
following.”

Piper nodded, the Commander continuing the conversation, a
slightly troubled look set firmly on his face, “believe me Sergeant, we realise
the risk you are taking, putting yourself directly in the line of fire.
However, once again, let me reassure you our CEATA Followers will be just
outside the VKE building, in various locations close by. They are well equipped
to deal with any emergencies and believe me, if we need firepower to get you
out of there, then they will use it!”

“Fair enough, thank you sir.”

“Right then,” said the Colonel, “we will keep in contact as
usual by Com-link, until tomorrow evening. Your flight has been reconfirmed, so
too, your hotel. You have all your documents, I presume?”

“Of course sir.”

“Good. Maurice and I have agreed to play this very
carefully. Your arrival at Dusseldorf International and your overnight stay
will give credence to your cover; it will also give you a chance to get your
thoughts together, before you go in!”

“Thank you sir, it’s appreciated!”

“Remember Ash, the number I have given you is your lifeline
to us here and don’t forget, if we view any sign of trouble, we will pull you
out immediately.”

Piper nodded his head again. He smiled as he started to feel
that little bit more confident. Yes he thought, relax, CEATA will be watching,
one way or another.

“Incidentally Sergeant,” Commander Hertschell looked up from
his desk; a report with several pages lying open on it. He tapped his right
index finger on the cover, “I have sent Colonel Yonev a copy of our findings
regarding Vitali Menkov. He has acknowledged it of course, but he and his team
are up to their necks in White Swan at present.”

“I understand sir. From what Sergeant Winters has told me,
the Colonel seems a good man, a man we can trust. We’ll just have to be
patient.” Maurice Hertschell nodded his head in agreement.

“I am so looking forward to seeing you again my love. I
should be arriving around eight tonight.” Lana Franke giggled, “I have the
needles and a brand new surgical gown with me, just for a change,” she
whispered.

“Wonderful Lana,” Otto Von Kurst knew his…ex mistress, would
call him to confirm what time she would be arriving at his house. But this time
there was no smile on his face, no eager excitement as to the pleasures she
would later bring him. No, this time, his thoughts were very different! “Take
care driving Lana; several sections of the city are closed off at present. I’ll
see you later.”

“Of course Otto, I’m so excited about tomorrow evening, I
can’t wait.” There was a kiss blown over the airwaves and she hung up.

Slowly, Von Kurst placed his mobile phone back on his desk
and folded his arms, his face set like stone.

“You see,” Helga Zeist’s voice was venomous, “you don’t love
her, do you? Answer me Otto. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Perhaps Helga, but never the less, she stays with me
tonight, you must sleep at your own house, I don’t want to raise any
suspicions.”

Helga looked at Von Kurst. It was an intelligent look, a
look telling of bold cunning as Von Kurst fell silent. “I still want to kill
her Otto. One day my love, you will give her to me. She holds no future within
the Were. You and I are the future, that is why you are joining me on my first
hunt, isn’t it? You want to break free again, to build your power, to prepare
for leadership…as Europe disintegrates!”

Hastily, Von Kurst rose from his chair and walked over to
his large office windows, a typical low growl emanating from his vocal chords,
a growl that all Were would recognise as an emotional acceptance of the truth.
“It may take weeks, even months before Lana removes the lone one’s head,” he
whispered, “believe me, I know her very well. He will be her plaything for a
long time to come. His life will become one long pathway to the lowliest depths
of despair.” Von Kurst paused, his right hand gently stroking his chin as he
gazed out across Dusseldorf’s city skyline, his thoughts racing towards the
future. The future for the Were. “But yes, you are right Helga, once Lana has
broken the lone one and destroyed his will to live, she will be of no further
use to me.” He turned and faced the woman he loved, “when she has finished with
him Helga, you can kill her…anyway you wish!”

“Good afternoon Mister Menkov,” the smile on Elaine
Sasnovitch’s face was warm, for she had a secret crush on Vitali Menkov.

“Elaine my dear, how are you?”

“I’m very well thank you, oh…and this must be Mister Oratz?”
Elaine held out her right hand, “I’m delighted to meet you sir.”

“I’m sure you are,” Oratz replied, not bothering to return
the courteous gesture of a handshake.

Elaine looked quizzically at Oratz. How rude, she thought.

“My key?” he asked, faking the fact that he was waiting for
notification from the young lady, concerning the delivery of a
certain…briefcase.

“Mister Oratz,” Elaine moved briskly around the reception
counter, towards the row of electronic bedroom key cards used so extensively by
hotels the world over. “Before you go up to your room, there has been a
delivery for you.”

“Oh?” feigned Oratz, looking hesitantly over to Menkov; who
stood reading the day’s edition of Vedmosti, Russia’s widely read business
newspaper.

“Yes, your briefcase, you left it at Mister Menkov’s
offices.”

“Ah yes, of course.” Oratz feigned disbelief again as he
flashed another, this time mischievous gaze at Menkov, who continued to read
the paper.

“If you will follow me please, I’ve placed the case in our
safety deposit area.” Turning quickly, Elaine walked from the reception,
through a door to the rear with Oratz following behind. As he did so, behind
the pages of his newspaper, Vitali Menkov’s face creased into a wicked smile.
Perfect he thought, simply perfect!

“Yes, here it is.” Elaine quickly undid a chain and padlock
attached to the large briefcase. “It’s quite heavy,” she whispered, picking up
the case and passing it over.

“Good,” said Oratz, with not a hint of a thank you.

“I presume the contents of your case are very important
Mister Oratz?” smiled Elaine.

“Yes indeed,” he replied, “believe me young lady; the
contents inside this briefcase will soon shed great light on Europe’s future.”
There was a hint of bold exhilaration in Wilhelm Oratz’s eyes.

“Oh, how wonderful,” Elaine whispered, “this must be a very
exciting time for you?”

Oratz turned away, the briefcase gripped tightly in his
right hand. He walked back towards the reception and to the Russian businessman
who had so splendidly taken care of him during his visit to the Venice of the
North. As he walked briskly into the reception area, he turned to Elaine…and
smiled. “Yes, my dear,” he said, “it is indeed…a very exciting time!”

“Nick, where’s Jeanette?”

“She’s back up at SHAPE, in another meeting!” Nick Lucas
looked up from his desk. There was a distinct look of forlorn apprehension set
firmly on his face, “I’m sorry Ash! She did want to see you before you left,
but then…well…”

Ash Piper couldn’t help looking disappointed, “it’s okay, I
understand. Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

“You bet!”

It was 14.45 hours. Piper had to be checked in at Brussels
International Airport for 17.00. “Well gents, it’s time to leave and thanks for
the business cards Nick, they look great!” Nick didn’t acknowledge his thanks
as Piper noticed both he and Jean-Paul had suddenly become very quiet. It was
not like them. He picked up his hand luggage and walked towards the
Communications Room’s exit door.

“RED HAZE,” Nick shouted over to his friend, “don’t worry,
I’ll be watching over you. We all will, good luck, and please…take care!”

“You bet Nick, thanks, and…I’ll see you all soon.” The door
hissed open and Ash Piper slowly walked out.

Perhaps it was the birds singing outside the window, or
maybe something else that had kept Otto Von Kurst awake for nearly an hour. He
lay on his side; his eyes wide open, gazing at the digital clock next to his
king sized double bed. It was 06.15, Thursday morning.

“Otto?” Lana Franke’s voice betrayed her underlying concern.

Slowly, Von Kurst turned over, his face coming close to
hers, her perfume and body odour once again embracing his senses, just as it
had the night before. “Yes Lana.”

“You’ve been awake for some time.”

“I couldn’t sleep; I hope I didn’t disturb you?”

“No, not at all, I haven’t slept too well either.” Lana
smiled, leaned forward and kissed his lips. It was a gentle kiss, not
penetrating or even mildly erotic, just gentle. “Otto,” her eyes too, were wide
open, “I want to ask you a question, and I want a truthful answer.” Von Kurst’s
gaze was vacant, his thoughts full of heartache, which surprised him. He had
loved Lana Franke deeply, their relationship being in many ways unusual, but
very special and very close. Now, that same relationship was finishing, melting
away like butter on a hot stove, in a way he could never have imagined. “Do you
still…” Lana paused, looking deeply into his eyes, her hand brushing back the
thick mane of hair from his forehead, “…love me?” There was silence, an
uncomfortable silence that to Lana Franke, spoke a million words of profound
heartache and quite possibly…rejection.

Von Kurst rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling,
“no Lana…I don’t love you anymore.”

To Doctor Lana Franke that one tell-tale sentence fell like
a medieval battering ram smashing through a thick oak door. It was a telling
blow, a serious wound, not directly to Lana’s heart, but to her ego and her
future. “I knew…last night,” she said, her tone hushed, vacant, “when I worked
on you. You just lay there, not moving, not moaning, even during your climax.”
She turned away and lay on her back, joining her ex lover in gazing at the
ceiling, “he’s destroyed our life, hasn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed, “you know exactly what I mean Otto. The lone
wolf, everything has changed, because of him.” There was no sentiment in Lana’s
voice; it was flat, monotone and pitiless. Von Kurst fell silent. “He has
destroyed our lives, he has destroyed our world and he threatens yours and the
Were’s very existence.”