The Dolomite Solution (26 page)

“Me?”

He nuzzled closer as they rounded the rink again, staying toward the middle. As they started approaching two men struggling to stay up, Jake pulled Toni to the left around them.

“Did you see that?” Jake said.

“You mean the shoulder holster when the guy's jacket came up?”

“Exactly.”

“Who are they? Cops?”

“I don't think so,” Jake said. He checked his watch. It was a few minutes before seven-thirty. “Let's go by them one more time. A little slower, though.”

They rounded the large rink, weaving in and out of people, and when they caught up with the two men, they slowed down. There was an older man and a younger one, both wearing dark clothing. The younger guy in dark jeans, the older guy in casual slacks. The older one was saying how he hadn't been on skates in twenty years.

“What do you think?” Jake asked.

“Americans. Definitely not cops.”

“Sounded like Boston to me,” Jake said.

“You're right,” she agreed. “It's been a long time since I've heard that accent.”

“It's been ten years since you left Europe.”

“I think it's time,” she said, changing the subject. “Let's do it.” She broke away from him and sprinted off toward Bergen.

Jake slowed down and followed a couple along the boards. By the time he reached Bergen, Toni was already standing along the boards by him.

Bergen was about to say something to Toni when he recognized Jake. “Adams. What are you doing on the ice? You're supposed to be—”

“Over the boards,” Jake demanded.

“What?” Bergen was confused.

Toni was keeping an eye on the Germans, who were carefully observing them.

“Let me help you over the boards.” Jake reached across and grabbed Bergen by the arm, and with the Austrian's help, he flopped the man down onto the ice.

Bergen tried standing with great difficulty, but Jake and Toni pulled him to his feet and placed him between them as they escorted him to the center of the rink. They let him go once there, and he caught himself enough to stand still.

“I don't understand, Jake,” Bergen said. “This isn't what we had planned.”

“Well I didn't think the Germans were in the plans either, but there they are.” Jake shifted his head toward the trio, who were looking around nervously unsure what to do.

“This is the Caruso woman I talked with on the phone this morning,” Bergen said. “What do you have to do with this whole thing? I get it. You two are working together.”

“Not really, Bergen,” she said, keeping her eyes open for those two from Boston.

“Please, call me Otto. Now what is it you want? And who do you work for.”

“Let's just say I work for the government,” she said. “What I want is world peace, but that's not gonna happen. So instead I'd like to keep Giovanni Scala alive long enough to see his work completed and for him to accept that Nobel Prize.”

“That's what I want,” Bergen assured her. “I have a lot of money to lose if his work is not brought in.”

“You see what you just said. If his work is not brought in. You don't give a shit about the man. You just want his work. Which makes me wonder how you might be involved with Leonhard Aldo's death.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” Bergen said raising his voice and his hands with it.

“What about Murdock?” Jake chimed in.

The Austrian glanced up into the stands. “He was set to go to our meeting this morning with the two scientists. I think that had nothing to do with our deal.”

There was silence for a moment as Jake and Toni stared at each other.

Finally Bergen said, “Did you bring Scala with you?”

“He's safe,” Toni said.

Jake was sure of one thing. Bergen wasn't telling them the whole story. He was scared, though, standing out in the middle of the rink like that. “I think we should go somewhere else to talk,” Jake said. “We'll bring you to Scala.”

Bergen looked somewhat relieved. “That's great.”

Toni and Jake put Bergen between them again and started escorting him down the center of the rink. They had gotten just a short distance, when Jake saw the first flash to his left. He wasn't sure what it was at first, but then there was another one from lower in the stands. It was a silenced gun again. There was a man running down the stadium shooting at them. Toni saw him now.

“You take Bergen, Toni,” Jake yelled, knowing who was behind the flashes. “I'll stay back.”

She agreed with a nod, and Jake let go and skated off. He sprinted in the opposite direction the shots had been fired and then cornered sharply and picked up speed. He pulled his gun and chambered a round, moving closer to the edge of the rink. By now Quinn had reached the boards and was squaring up with his gun trying to track Jake. There were two more flashes and an older man dropped to the rink on the other side. Jake returned fire with two rounds, filling the air with the loud echo of his 9mm.

Now there were screams everywhere and chaos on the ice. Everyone looked where the shots had come from, and scurried in the opposite direction.

Jake gained momentum, rounded the corner one hundred eighty degrees and swung back around toward the shooter. He saw two flashes to his left. Quinn was shooting at Toni and Bergen while running down the aisle along the boards. The rink was clearing off quickly, but now Jake saw the two men from Boston ahead on the ice. They had their weapons drawn and were trying to take aim at the shooter. The young one fired and the recoil knocked him to the ice. The older man started to pick his partner up when he suddenly fell to the ice. Jake saw the blood and knew the Boston man had been hit in the leg.

Closing in on the silent shooter, Jake stooped down and shot three times as he passed the man, his rounds smacking into the top of the wooden boards.

By now Toni and Bergen had made it to the far end of the rink and were jumping the boards.

Jake swung around again to give Toni more time to reach her car. He swept around the far end. The rink was completely clear now. There was the old man who had been shot in the crossfire still laying on the ice, and the Boston man who had been shot was being helped to the side by the younger man. Heading down the center of the ice, Jake noticed Quinn running toward the tunnel Toni and Bergen had scooted through. Jake had one chance now to draw the man's fire, but before he could, he saw Quinn fall down behind the boards. Jake slid to a stop with ice spraying into the air. He was thirty feet from the boards, his gun pointing to where the man had been, but he couldn't see a thing. Then two men rose from behind the boards, fighting. It was the shooter and the bald German with the big nose.

Skating forward slowly, Jake kept his gun on the two men. Neither had a gun. The larger German should have been winning the fight, but Quinn had gotten in some quick blows to the head and a straight kick to the chest. Quinn turned toward Jake and stared for a second, then stooped down. When he rose again, Jake fired twice. There were two flashes almost simultaneous to his shots. Then nothing.

Jake's heart pounded out of control. He slowly skated backwards, circled to his right to the edge of the boards, and peaked over the side. When Quinn had glared at him, there had been a moment of recognition, like he remembered when he first saw Murdock in the dark alley, dead. Quinn had to know now that Jake had recognized him. The German was starting to get up, but there was no sign of Quinn anywhere. Jake scooted forward, his gun out in front. Then he stopped when he noticed the other German, Nicolaus Hahn, making his way down the aisle toward him.

“He's gone,” the German yelled to Jake. He pointed off toward another side tunnel. “He crawled along the boards to here, and then snuck up along the bleachers wall.”

Jake still had his gun out, but at his side now. The German was directly across the boards from him. The bald one with the big nose was ten feet back trying to catch his breath. The woman that had been with them earlier was gone.

“You must be Jake Adams,” Hahn said, his voice echoing in the empty stadium. His English was nearly perfect.

The man reached his hand to shake, and it sat there by itself while Jake studied him.

Jake swung his head toward the tunnel. “Do you know who that was?”

“Afraid not,” the German said. “I'm guessing he's the one who killed my man, Murdock. I understand you knew Allen?”

Sensing they were alone, Jake returned his gun to its holster. “Yeah, I knew him. You should have seen everything from where you were sitting. Who were those two men on the ice with guns?”

“Haven't a clue. I thought they were with you.”

“Hardly.” Jake looked around, and noticed some men with rifles entering the stadium simultaneously from nearly every entrance. They were all wearing black.

Over the intercom, a voice said in German, “Do not move. This is the polizei. Put your hands against the boards.”

The voice was familiar to Jake. He smiled and did what he was told. The Germans did the same.

“Why did the woman take Otto Bergen with her?” Hahn asked Jake.

Jake didn't answer. By now the Austrian polizei were upon them and had forced the Germans to the ground, checking them for weapons. Jake slid backwards further onto the ice. Two men aimed their rifles at him, telling him to come back. “I'll talk with Herr Martini. Otherwise you come to me.”

The two men considered the option. Should they risk going out on the ice, or do as he says? They didn't have to wait long. Martini came out through the nearest tunnel, storming down toward the ice. When he recognized Jake he had a disgusted look on his face.

“Jake Adams. Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go,” the criminal commissioner said.

Jake moved to within a few feet of the boards, where the Austrian was now standing. “I'm starting to think so myself.”

The Austrian furled his brows. “Are you all right, Jake? It looks like someone hit you in the shoulder.”

Checking both sides, Jake noticed a hole in his leather jacket on his right shoulder. He slid his hand inside and then felt a little pain where a bullet had glanced off his skin. “Shit. A perfectly good jacket. I've had this thing for six years.”

“I guess you have an explanation for all this,” Martini said.

He thought for a moment, knowing Toni had probably gotten away with Bergen. “How much time do you have?”

Toni was in the back seat of Special Agent Jordan's Ford unlacing her skates to replace them with shoes. She took off the blonde wig and fluffed out her own hair. Jordan was driving, Scala was in the front passenger seat, and Otto Bergen, still looking confused, was in the back with her. Moments ago the car had entered the onramp for autobahn twelve heading northeast toward Germany. Jordan punched it and the large engine roared to life, hitting a comfortable cruising speed that would not attract attention.

She introduced Bergen to Jordan.

“How did it go?” Jordan asked, looking at her in the rearview mirror.

“There were a few problems,” she said. She plopped one skate to the floor and then rubbed her foot. “Some guy started shooting the place up.”

“What about Adams?” Jordan asked.

She couldn't stop wondering what had happened to Jake. They had been in many tight spots like this, so she knew he could handle himself. But when bullets start flying anything can happen. “We had to leave him behind. He'll be okay.”

Jordan gazed at her in the mirror again.

Toni turned to Bergen. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course.”

She wondered about this man. He didn't seemed overly shaken after just getting shot at. Maybe that was the problem, he knew he was in no danger. “Who was the man shooting at us?” she asked him.

Bergen was looking straight ahead. He turned to Toni and said, “What makes you think I know the man?”

“Do you get shot at every day?” she asked, her voice getting louder.

“No,” he muttered.

“And you weren't afraid of getting shot?”

“I...” He let out a deep sigh and shook his head.

“You knew the shooter and also knew he wasn't firing at you. Maybe you hired the man like you hired Jake Adams. Only this man was supposed to kill anyone who stood in your way of getting Scala. Which was me and Adams, as it turned out.” She smacked him with a backhand to the chest. “You gonna answer me, asshole?”

He looked shocked to have been struck by a woman. “It's more complicated than that.”

“I've got a pretty good mind,” Toni assured him. “I'm certain I can understand.”

She waited, taking off the last skate and then rubbing life into her freed foot.

“The lady asked you to explain yourself, Bergen,” Jordan said over his shoulder. “You better answer her.”

Professor Scala, who had sat quietly in the front seat, turned around and cast his glare on Bergen. “If you want to ever get the Dolomite Solution, you'll answer her.”

Toni hadn't seen the professor so angry. She had a feeling he meant it. “Well?”

Otto Bergen watched as the car swished past a small village to his right. “He'll kill me. I'm sure of it. He's a crazy man.”

“Who is he?” Toni asked.

“An American. Marcus Quinn.” Each word came out as if it hurt him to speak. “He knows Jake Adams, and he knew Allen Murdock. Murdock was working for Richten Pharmaceuticals. This Quinn came to me a few weeks ago saying he and Murdock had a deal to take over the solution once Aldo and Scala brought in the final results. He told me that if I didn't cooperate with him he'd still steal the solution, but he'd kill me as well. I didn't know what to do.”

Toni pulled a pair of dark slacks over her tights and then slipped her shoes on. “So you agreed?”

“What else could I do?” Bergen pleaded.

She wanted to smack the man again. This time across his mouth. “Continue.”