Henri just stared through the front windshield, paying the man no attention. His mind was elsewhere. Henri’s mind worked well when immersed in conflict. He had just finished a plan that could afford him the opportunity of asking Krause face-to-face whether he had his son killed or not. Henri still had men like Emil in the organization, men who were loyal to him.
Henri casually turned his head and locked eyes with the trooper. “I said, ‘I’ll kill him.’”
Four of the five men turned and looked at him. The driver could only glance up at him in his overhead mirror.
“Kill who?” the same trooper asked.
Henri faced forward and stared through the windshield. “Tobias Krause. I’m going to kill him.”
The navigator reached for the vehicle’s radio, but Henri launched forward and drove his head into the man’s nose. Then, when he rocked back, he pulled the trooper’s knife free of his belt and elbowed the men beside him in the face. Henri lashed out with a kick, driving the tip of his steel-toe boot into the driver’s temple. He flipped the knife up between his bound wrists and twisted, making short work of the zip cuff.
The tight confines of the cabin made it impossible for the troopers to use their rifles or draw their pistols, and neither one of them had thought to use their knives.
But Henri did.
Henri killed the four men in six seconds.
He pulled the driver out of his seat and stripped the corpses of the necessary gear, but he didn’t dump the bodies. Not yet. When he sat in the driver’s side chair, the radio crackled to life.
“
Henri answered. “Yes. Go ahead, Skibird.”
“
Henri grinned. “As a matter of fact, we do. See you soon, Skibird.”
Stuttgart, Germany
The news of his team’s failure in Antarctica both infuriated him and terrified him. The Sixth Seal had fumbled their greatest opportunity in sixty years. Dietrich had led everyone to believe that the Underworld had been destroyed, and until a few days ago, Tobias had no reason to doubt the claim. And now, his life was truly at risk.
Based on his body’s degradation, his doctors estimated that he had another year left, tops. Tobias felt much worse than that. He coughed into his handkerchief but didn’t check it. He knew there’d be blood in it again.
There was a knock on his office door. He had made it known to Zelda that he did not want to be disturbed unless it was absolutely imperative.
He sighed. “Yes?” Tobias reached into the top drawer, touched the fingerprint scanner, and unlocked the door.
His granddaughter entered. “I have important news, Grandfather.”
Even though she had stood up to him recently, Zelda had returned to her duties as his de facto operations proxy. She’d gotten whatever she needed to off her chest. The mission was always her top priority, a quality of hers he’d grown to respect.
He motioned for her to enter. She did and quickly crossed the room, stopping in front of his desk. “As you requested, I contacted our people at Fürstenfeldbruck Air Base.”
“And?”
“There has still been no contact with the LC-130 since it left Troll. No one knows what happened.”
Tobias sat back. “I think I know…”
“Grandfather?”
He blinked and waved her off. “Never mind that. Now, leave me to my medicine.”
She bowed slightly. “Yes, Grandfather. And happy birthday.”
Tobias waited a moment longer for Zelda to put more distance between herself and his office. When he was confident that she was gone, he reopened the drawer and touched one of the
The first scanner controlled his office’s door locks.
He pressed the second one.
It activated the hydraulic system beneath his desk. It kicked in with hardly a sound, and Tobias, his wheelchair and his entire desk, lowered down into his onsite laboratory. This was where his medicine was located, and no one other than his chief scientist was allowed inside.
Not even Zelda or Henri. The last
He pulled back on the joystick of his wheelchair and backed himself away from his desk. Inside the secret basement level were his latest experiments regarding his serum. The equipment here was as advanced as it got. Tobias’ experience in this particular field was second to none, though most people only knew him as a high-level financier.
