The Lure of the Pack (26 page)

Hastily casting his thoughts aside, Piper stepped out of the
Hotel Nikko’s lobby. Under his favourite black leather jacket, neatly tucked
into a quick release shoulder holster sat the USP45, both previously delivered
by a ‘special’ courier in a plain, large padded envelope. At least he had the
handgun for the day, he thought as he raised his right hand, hailing a taxi. It
was time for the first close recon of Von Kurst Electronics Head Office. As a
taxi pulled up alongside him, Piper thought of his colleagues at CEATA
Headquarters, now most probably sitting or standing by the large screen in front
of Nick as they watched his every move. With his concentration set fully on the
task ahead he brusquely opened the taxi door and stepped in.

Somewhat nonchalantly, the taxi driver gazed into his rear
view mirror at the tall, dark blonde haired man, sitting behind him.
“Good…day,” he said, in broken English.

How apt thought Piper, an immigrant!

“There he goes, and all expenses paid.” Nick Lucas was
openly pleased with his little joke, but no one else laughed, least of all
Jeanette Descard. The large screen in front of CEATA’s senior personnel showed
a hive of activity centred around inner city Dusseldorf, including the
transmitting signal from a certain microchip placed under one man’s left
armpit.

Nick’s smile fell flat as Colonel Mann entered the Communications
Room, “Nick!”

“Yes sir.”

“I need an update on the movements of VKE’s Learjet, right
now!”

“Yes, sir!” Nick quickly typed at his keyboard. He knew that
tone of voice, he thought, so no more jokes, the Colonel was gearing up for
action. “Here we go sir, okay, there seems to be no flight roster booked until
next Monday…”

“Very well!” Colonel Mann, his face stern, turned to
Jeanette Descard, quickly noticing her look of deep concern, “good morning
Jeanette. Red Haze is all set then?”

“Good morning sir. Yes it seems that way, Ash is going to
run several recon passes around the VKE building, before tonight’s event.”

“Good!” The Colonel turned back to Nick, “well Nick, please
continue…”

“Yes sir. It seems Wilhelm Oratz is flying to Munich, early
on Monday morning, then…yeah, let’s see…early Wednesday, he flies to Zurich,
then…Thursday, late evening, the Learjet leaves for Rome. Yeah, with a return
flight to Dusseldorf booked for Sunday, late morning.”

“Business meetings?” The Colonel turned to Jeanette, who
shrugged her shoulders.

“It seems to fit, the destinations are all factory locations
for VKE,” she said.

“The flight plan does fit in with various business meetings
sir,” Nick turned around and looked up at the Colonel. “I ran another check on
Oratz last night. Believe me, I’ve hacked into every mainframe VKE have, he
definitely has meetings next week. In fact, if you look here…” Nick turned back
to his keyboard and pulled up another screen full of information, “the same
flight plan is booked two weeks later.” The Canadian shrugged his shoulders,
“sales meetings and follow ups. It must be!”

“Alright Nick, print out the information will you, I’ll take
it over to the Commander.”

“Certainly sir.”  

“So, Falck and Kempler are now hunting the ones who hunt us,
how…poetic!” Wilhelm Oratz had to admit that his close friend’s planning was
both meticulous, and clever. “The stupid shits don’t realise who they are
dealing with, the same goes for Vitali and the way he manipulates the FSB. Yes,
as soon as I arrived the FSB were onto us, but believe me Otto, Vitali is
always one step ahead of them. Like you, he is very adaptable and dare I
say…cunning!”

Sitting quietly, with a trace of a smile on his face, Otto
Von Kurst nodded slowly in acceptance of his close friend’s dialogue. He
continued the intriguing conversation, “as per my instructions, Jurgen and
Fritz have become like ghosts, melting into the shadows. Already our
antagonists have been located and tonight, they will be eliminated. Yes, the
ones who defy us are a military team, obviously, but so what!” Von Kurst left
the confines of his chair and stood up, “do they have anyone who can match the
sheer battle hardened talents of two ex Waffen SS veterans? No, of course not,
and this evening, those same veterans…will strike!”

“Very impressive Otto, very impressive indeed!”

Slowly, Von Kurst walked around his desk and pulled up
another chair, looking down once again at the briefcase at Oratz’s side. He sat
down, this time between his friend and Helga. “What is on your mind, Wilhelm?”

The question caught Oratz by surprise, “I’m sorry Otto, what
do you mean?”

“I have known you for a long time my friend; I can read your
facial expressions like a book. There is something troubling you, isn’t there?”

Oratz looked at Von Kurst, then at Helga. Dare he voice his
opinion he thought, what would Otto think?

“Come on Wilhelm,” Von Kurst slapped Oratz on his back, “out
with it, what’s bothering you?”

“Lana…is bothering me!”

“Ah, and this is because of…?” Von Kurst looked intrigued.
He knew how much his close friend and confidante hated the woman who had played
such a key part in his own life.

“Something Vitali said!”

“I see, and what did Vitali say?” Von Kurst’s voice was
mellow, not threatening or suspicious.

Oratz looked at Helga, his gaze returning quickly to Von
Kurst, “the balance of power is changing, isn’t it? The love you had for Lana,
is no more!”

“Mmm, that is a very astute question my friend, I presume
Vitali has sensed this?”

“Yes, he knows you and Helga must join together, to bring
the Were more power, especially as Europe is about to fold into chaos.”

“And my dear Wilhelm…” Von Kurst stared at Helga, who smiled
openly, “Vitali is right. Yes, the balance is changing.”

“So, if this is true, Lana is a threat…to all of us!”

Von Kurst fell silent, his thoughts racing back to the early
morning and the hysterical woman shaking and screaming uncontrollably in his
bed. “I know,” he said, “but I need her at present.”

“Yes, of course, for interrogating the lone one. I’m sure she
will do an excellent job in obtaining the information you require.” Oratz
paused again. “But what then?” he whispered, “what if she decides to take a
different path, to leave you for good. She damned well knows too much Otto!”

“Yes, and she is also a board member of VKE, Wilhelm. No,
Lana will not make any rash decisions for the moment, besides, as of tonight,
she will have a new toy to play with, for a long time to come. Believe me,
after tonight, her childish mind will be quite happy, at least for the time
being.”

“I see.” Oratz fell silent, his gaze wandering aimlessly
across Von Kurst’s office.

“You want to kill Lana, don’t you Wilhelm?” whispered Von
Kurst, menacingly.

Oratz’s stony gaze once again met his Fuhrer’s, “yes, I will
kill her for you, just give me the word!”

“Otto, stop playing games, tell Wilhelm…now!”

Helga Zeist’s words startled Oratz. “Tell me what?” he
whispered.

Von Kurst sat back, an evil leer returning to the face of
the New Totenkopf’s Fuhrer.

“There is no need for you to worry about Lana being a
hindrance Wilhelm, no need at all.” Von Kurst growled, so too did Helga as
Oratz’s spine tingled, both with fear and excitement. “When the time is right
Wilhelm, I can assure you Lana will die, for I have already promised her…to
Helga!”

It had been a long day and Ash Piper, now dressed in his
dark blue business suit and tie, sat in the back seat of yet another taxi. It
was 18.14 p.m. and for over two hours his head had ached, but this time the
aching was even more severe. Another two Paracetomols had dulled the throbbing,
but it was still there. Piper looked outside, gazing vacantly at the rows of
traffic slowly moving through the city. All these people he thought, ending
another day of work. As the taxi driver wound slowly through Dusseldorf’s busy
rush hour, he began to regret the necessity of leaving the USP at the hotel.
All he carried now was a notebook and pen, his invitation, I.D., business
cards, money…and his mobile phone. But the absence of his favourite handgun was
not the only issue troubling Piper. As always he had been in contact with CEATA
throughout the day, but one report he had been expecting had still not yet
appeared. Since the terrible slaughter at the weekend, there were still four
detonations, which had not yet taken place. Piper shook his head in dismay.
Just what the fuck is Von Kurst up to, he thought? I must find out…tonight!

“The Von Kurst Electronics building looks splendid, I passed
it just over an hour ago, it’s beautifully lit up from the outside.” The taxi driver,
this time German and a native of Dusseldorf, wore a cheerful smile on his face.

“Yes I know, it’s a very impressive building.”

“It was especially built,” replied the taxi driver, “very
eco friendly, their production area is well hidden behind the main building.
It’s all very clever.”

“So I believe!” Although his thoughts were still in
overdrive, Piper was happy to join in the conversation, for he had not spoken
fluent German for some time. The day’s recon passes had gone well, the security
at the main entrance to the VKE Head Office being as tight as he had expected.

“Here we go!” The taxi pulled around another street corner
and into a parking slot as the magnificent, six storey, silver alloy building
of Von Kurst Electronics came into view.

“Keep the change,” said Piper.

“Thank you, enjoy your evening.”

Ever so carefully, the taxi pulled away as Piper looked
across the road at the large queue of reporters and news teams from around the
world. They all stood patiently, waiting to show their invitations to the
security men at the large front doors. Security men my arse thought Piper,
they’re probably grenadiers. Briskly, he crossed the busy road and joined the
queue as various guests arrived by limousine. Slowly, carefully, he scanned his
surroundings. Shit, he thought, this is more like the bloody Oscars. Ever so
quickly, a vibrant atmosphere seemingly enveloped Piper’s senses as television
news teams reported to the world’s masses. Yes, he thought, this was certainly
going to be a grand occasion.

Slowly but surely, the queue moved forward with Piper
introducing himself to several reporters, trying cheerfully to discuss the
proposed itinerary for the evening, only to find lack lustre responses. Of
course, he thought, act your part! You’re Oliver Drake of the Financial Times!
BE…Oliver Drake! Piper had heard of the strong rivalry between journalists,
after all, they were all in the same business, always seeking the best report,
the best…interview! Somewhat discreetly, he smiled to himself, for the people
around him were now, in many ways, his supposed rivals.

“Can I have your name, please sir?”

The attractive blonde haired girl, dressed in a stylish
business suit and sporting a VKE I.D. badge, brought Piper’s thoughts back to
reality. “Drake,” he said quietly, “Oliver Drake.”

The girl smiled as she slowly ran her finger down the guest
list, “ah yes, Mister Drake, and you are representing…?”

“The Financial Times in London, here’s my invitation.”

“Thank you. If you will just walk over to the security area
Mister Drake, I know it’s a nuisance, but with the troubles at present, we
can’t take any chances.”

“I understand.”

The girl smiled again, this time perhaps overly so. “Thank
you Mister Drake, enjoy the evening!”

Somewhat leisurely, Piper joined another queue of people,
all anxious to get through the security scans and claim their own space for the
evening’s presentation. As he drew close to one of the burly VKE security
guards, his thoughts once again drifted back to Jeanette Descard and his
flippancy in the corridor at CEATA Headquarters. Yes, he thought, here I am
Jeanette, going completely against your advice. At long last, Mister Oliver
Drake of the Financial Times is entering…the wolf’s den!

10

BLOOD RED!

“Spirit One, Spirit Two, do you copy, over?” Charles Mann
adjusted the mouthpiece of the Com-link attached to his right ear as he stood
rigidly next to Nick Lucas.

“This is Spirit One; we are in position, on priority code
two alert. We are ready to assist, if required.” CEATA Follower, Paul Gent
turned to the woman sat in the passenger seat of his black Saab 9-3. “Well, Red
Haze is in,” he said quietly.

“Yes,” replied Suzanne Reline, “I just hope this mission
goes well.” Suzanne stared out of the Saab’s darkened windows, her eyes alert,
watchful, as just down the road, a man in a dark green BMW sat quietly reading
his newspaper.

“Spirit Three, do you copy, over?”

Native to Belgium, Carolyn Melen had been a CEATA Follower
for over one year. As she sipped her coffee by a large window in the busy café
near Von Kurst Electronics, she whispered her reply, “affirmative Control,
Spirit Three in position.” Just behind her, several tables away, a man sat
enjoying a sandwich and a large mug of steaming hot coffee, his unkempt
appearance disguised somewhat by his black, highly fashionable raincoat.

“Spirit Four, do you copy, over?”

The well-dressed businessman sat in the Volkswagen Passat,
just around the corner from the main entrance to VKE, replied boldly into his
Com-link. “Spirit Four in position, on code two alert, ready to assist.” Forty
eight year old Karl Spans was ex GSG9 and incredibly fit for his age. He had
been a Follower for nine months and thoroughly relished his profession.

“Very good, stay in position and keep alert; we are
monitoring Red Haze as we speak. If there is any sign of trouble, I want all of
you in that building as fast as possible. I will keep in contact, Control out!”
Charles Mann looked around at his colleagues in CEATA’s Communications Room,
“well everyone, this is it, let’s keep our fingers crossed.”

Jeanette Descard, her eyes held by the satellite imagery on
the large screen in front of her, began to toy with the small crucifix she
always wore around her neck. Although she would never admit it, she was
despondent at the thought of missing Piper before he had left for Germany, her
eyes haphazardly betraying her emotions as she recalled the words she had
whispered to him upon Red Haze’s hasty departure for Amsterdam. Bon chance, mon
ami…bon chance!

“You are certain this device will work, Wilhelm?”

“Trust me Otto, as soon as he is lured into the room, I will
activate it. The controller is here, in my pocket. Believe me; any form of
electronic surveillance within one hundred metres will be thoroughly disrupted.
Vitali swears by these devices.”

Otto Von Kurst nodded in appreciation of his friend’s
comments; the ‘gift’ from Vitali Menkov would make the capture of the lone one
that little bit easier. “What about the rear offices Wilhelm, across from the
showroom. I take it the area has been closed off to the public?”

Oratz bowed his head slightly, “of course, no one will be in
the vicinity. As of tonight, it is completely private!”

“Excellent! Well, we had better join our guests, hadn’t we?”
Looking supremely confident, Otto Von Kurst, along with Wilhelm Oratz, Helga
Zeist and Lana Franke prepared to leave the Von Kurst Electronics’ Managing
Director’s office. As the smartly dressed foursome walked towards the elevator,
Helga moved quickly to Lana’s side. “If you know what’s good for you, stay out
of my way,” she whispered.

The elevator arrived and they stepped in, the venomous look
on Lana’s face telling of hateful feelings. Piss off, you bitch, she thought!

As the lift descended, Von Kurst noted the look of loathsome
hatred between the two women. What a splendid evening this will be, he thought,
sarcastically.

Ash Piper sipped at the ice-cold glass of fresh orange in
his hand. He felt hot, his headache still throbbing, constantly annoying him.
But now it was getting worse, stronger, much stronger. He smoothed his right
hand across the back of his neck, in an attempt to massage the pain away as he
looked around the magnificent VKE showroom. It was large; easily holding well
over two hundred guests. He had to admit, VKE had spared no expense on the
opulent surroundings, with thick shag pile carpet stretching from wall to wall
and beautifully mounted and framed, large photographs of the four VKE
facilities displayed under bright spotlights in its four corners. Centred in
each of the elegantly decorated walls, large flat-screen plasma televisions
showed reports from various European news channels, but at a much-reduced
volume. Piper couldn’t help but notice the EuroNews channel was reporting once
again on the lead up to the forthcoming Festival of Peace in Rome. He smiled to
himself as he noticed a podium in one corner, with rows of chairs neatly placed
in an outgoing semi circle, the seats for the press laid out to the right, the
left and centre being for Von Kurst’s, honoured guests. The room was a hive of
activity, with a throng of newspaper reporters jockeying for position in their
attempts to speak with various ‘important’ guests from the world of business,
and to Piper’s surprise, show business as well. Members of the European
Parliament, businessmen and women from all over Europe, even from the USA and
Far East, were all present along with dignitaries from the world of finance and
banking, all basking under the spotlight of media frenzy. Piper gazed
nonchalantly at two German footballers with their wives and at several actors,
standing together; sipping champagne like there was no tomorrow.

“Another drink, Mister Drake?” A pretty young woman, one of
several hostesses for the evening smiled warmly as Piper looked down at his
glass. It was nearly empty.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” She smiled again and slowly moved
on, mingling among the excited crowd. As he continued the surveillance of his
plush surroundings, Piper noticed the large, schematic models of the four main
Von Kurst Electronics factories. They were set in each corner, beneath the
mounted photographs. Dusseldorf, Munich, Zurich and Rome, and in the middle of
the room sat a magnificent model of the forthcoming ‘Satchip’ research and
production facility in St Petersburg. For a few moments Piper’s gaze focused
intently on the model as his thoughts travelled to the city of St Petersburg
and Vitali Menkov…the Rostov Ripper! I wonder if Menkov will be here tonight,
he thought?

Wilhelm Oratz looked across at Lana Franke as the four key players
for the evening’s entertainment made their way to the rear doors leading to the
VKE showroom. They were splendidly dressed for the occasion, Von Kurst and
Oratz in their finest business suits and Helga Zeist in a light green blouse
with matching skirt, designed to perfectly compliment her shapely figure and
good looks. But it was Lana Franke who knew she would command the stares of
admiration, the gasps of amazement and the unavoidable sexual stimulation of
the male guests. Her new dress, designed specially for the event, was tailored
to perfectly enhance her womanly curves. Lana prepared to bask knowingly in her
femininity, to take immense pleasure in the knowledge of her blatant sexual
attraction. It was to be a grand entrance, with Von Kurst and Oratz walking in
first through the doorway, situated next to the podium.

“I hear it’s over, Lana.”

Lana Franke closed the petite handbag she was carrying and
looked up at the man she thoroughly despised. “What’s over?”

“Oh come on, I’m sure you know, you must!” Wilhelm Oratz was
becoming accustomed to smiling. Ever since his dinner and his two days spent
with Vitali Menkov, he had smiled considerably. But his smiles were always of a
devious nature, smiles to which blatantly wicked thoughts were constantly attached.

“No, I don’t know what you mean.” Lana tossed her beautiful,
shoulder length, dark hair to the side, this time with newly added blonde tints
radiating under the spotlights lining the hallway.

Oratz sniggered, “your hold on Otto,” he whispered, “it’s
finished…isn’t it?”

The look on Lana Franke’s face could not be disguised, “fuck
off, you ugly bastard!”

“When you two have finished…” Otto Von Kurst looked
decidedly angry, “Wilhelm, this is not the time for childish goading, we have a
task to accomplish tonight and I expect results!” There was tenseness in the
air.

“My apologies Otto, I didn’t mean to…”

“Forget it! Let’s get on with the evening.” Von Kurst
prepared to open the door then closed his eyes, his face grimacing. He growled,
the typical low growl of the Were, a growl of both defiance and defence.

“Otto, are you alright?” Lana Franke sounded genuinely
concerned.

“I’m fine Lana; it’s just a headache, that’s all!” Von Kurst
turned to Helga, the look in her slightly bloodshot eyes, the same as his. The
time for the lone wolf’s incarceration was drawing near and they both knew it!

“He is here, Otto.” Helga fought to conceal the low monotone
change in her voice.

“I know, I can sense him, and he senses me…” Von Kurst’s
penetrating gaze turned to Lana. “Not long now,” he whispered as he gently
tapped on the door.

At the same time Lana Franke began to giggle.

Willi Bichter, VKE Dusseldorf’s Telesales Manager, had been
waiting for his Managing Director’s knock on the door. Just three taps, to tell
him they were ready. He was proud to be taking part in the event, even if the
part he played was just a small one. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WILL YOU PLEASE
WELCOME YOUR HOSTS FOR THIS EVENING, MISTER OTTO VON KURST AND MISTER WILHELM
ORATZ!” A hushed silence fell over the VKE showroom, followed by an eruption of
spontaneous applause as the two businessmen, closely followed by their two
female companions entered the room.

Suddenly, Ash Piper’s headache grew in intensity as the four
stood in all their glory, enjoying the rapturous welcome. Von Kurst bowed his
head slightly, acknowledging his guests, with Oratz at his side, the look on
his face vacant, cold.

Piper, at the back of the showroom, stayed behind the
welcoming throng as he remembered Colonel Mann’s words just before he left
headquarters, ‘remember Red Haze, avoid direct confrontation. Enter Von Kurst’s
mind, gain any information you can, then get out!’

“Ladies and Gentlemen, on behalf of the Von Kurst
Electronics Board of Directors, may I take this opportunity to welcome you to
this very special evening.” Otto Von Kurst, now on the podium with large silver
VKE initials hanging majestically behind him, basked in the adulation of his
guests.

If only you all knew thought Piper, his gaze never leaving
the Managing Director of Von Kurst Electronics.

Von Kurst continued with his initial pleasantries, “every
single one of you here this evening, honours us with your presence, but please,
let us dispense with formalities.”

So, there he is thought Piper, the man himself, Otto Von
Kurst. Piper’s heart was racing, his thoughts, reeling. It was the sheer
presence of the man, his commanding aura, his powerful physique that
immediately took Piper by surprise. The Chairman and Managing Director of Von
Kurst Electronics stood well over six feet in height, his strong, athletic body
radiating strength of character and, Piper was certain, a wealth of wisdom and
knowledge. Yes, he thought, Otto Von Kurst certainly looked and acted, like he
was God himself. But Piper knew there was something else about the man on the
podium that greatly troubled him, something hidden. It wasn’t just the fact
that the man addressing the multitude of guests was a werewolf, no; there was
something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was as if his inner
sense, his wolf sense, was trying to tell him something…but what?

Otto Von Kurst paused and smiled, a smile that held a
thousand secrets, “please everyone, help yourself to further cocktails and, as
of now, to the rather splendid buffet we have arranged for you all.” Again came
another smile as further applause brought more adulation. “Wilhelm and I will
be taking the podium again in an hour or so, to introduce our brand new, highly
exciting, and I hope you won’t mind me saying, innovative…” a jovial dance of
the eyebrows brought laughter from the audience as Von Kurst played the perfect
host, “…look at the future, both for Von Kurst Electronics and indeed, the
world. So ladies and gentlemen make sure you enjoy yourselves tonight and as the
evening moves on we look forward to greeting both old and new friends alike.
Thank you.”

There was further impulsive applause as Piper finished his
orange and called one of the hostesses over. She willingly obliged as he placed
the empty glass onto a stacked tray.

“Another drink, Mister…” the girl quickly viewed Piper’s
name on his I.D. badge, “…Drake?”

Piper smiled, the girl too, “no thanks, I’m fine.” She
walked away, slowly dissolving into the assembly of guests as Piper’s gaze now
followed the man by Otto Von Kurst’s side. Wilhelm Oratz! He looks extremely
arrogant he thought, probably a bully, with a grossly over rated opinion of
himself. Certainly a man I’d like to punch in the ruddy face, not least of all
for all the misery he and his colleague have caused. Piper’s irritated sigh was
lost in the buzz of the crowd. He wanted to hit back, to halt Von Kurst in his
tracks, to take him on face to face, but he knew that was impossible...at least
just for now. Of the two women with Von Kurst and Oratz, he couldn’t quite make
them out, there being far too many guests around, enjoying the friendly,
hospitable atmosphere.

“I wonder who will get the interview?”

The soft female voice behind Piper made him turn around.
“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t you know? Mister Von Kurst, he’s giving just one of
us lucky journalists a major interview later this evening, surely you knew?”