Anger Mode (44 page)
EPILOGUE
WITH NO WINDOWS, the room was in permanent darkness and was cold. Damp ran down the uneven, stone walls and onto the floor. The mattress he laid on was never completely dry. He did not know how long he had been here. Two, perhaps three months. Time had lost all significance. The interrogations and beatings were becoming increasingly vicious. Sometimes electric shocks, sometimes drugs. Most of them were old, close to the end of their lives but driven by an implacable hatred. He did not know who they were, where they came from, or why they were so determined to discover what he had created. He understood that his only way out of here was as a corpse. They had not hidden their faces.
But he was already prepared and feared nothing. He would have ended it himself if they had not found him first. He cursed his mistake. Leo Brageler observed his wounds in the dim light that found its way under the door crack. The end would be a liberation. Not a day passed by that he did not dream himself away from the torture. To simply disappear into the infinite darkness. He prayed to be dead. Just like Anna and his beloved Cecilia.
P
ROJECT
N
IRVANA
Don’t miss the action-packed sequel to Anger Mode. Here are some excerpts from, Project Nirvana, the second book in the Walter Gröhn trilogy.
ONCE AGAIN, HE had taken a life. First, a deep stab in the kidneys to silence the victim. The extraordinary pain put the victim into a state of paralysis. Then a short pause before the final strike that drove the knife blade through the throat. The strike that separated the soul from the body. He was a true artist. An artist of assassination, who helped others to remove their problems. He could have used more modern methods, such as a gun with a silencer, but that was too easy. It was like drinking watered-down vodka. He wanted to feel the death spasms in the victim’s muscles.
The white surgical gloves he wore were now coloured red. He inspected them for a while and then closed his eyes. He was known in Russia as
Mjasník
– the Butcher. Always terrifying to his victims and equally as respected by those who hired him.
WALTER PARKED A short distance from the main gate, so that the car was hidden by some trees. The SWAT team got out quickly from their vehicles and silently positioned themselves in front of the gate. The security guard unlocked two huge padlocks. The black-suited policemen fanned out in groups of three. Jonna unholstered her Sig Sauer and removed the safety catch. Walter did the same. Together with one of the SWAT team, they made their way along the fence. With torches set to dim, they began inspecting the caravan locks. The mist reduced visibility almost to zero. Like ghosts crouched against the rows of caravans, they examined lock after lock. It was time-consuming and, despite the cold and the damp air, Jonna was sweating. Clear beads formed on her forehead and ran down her temples. She felt the adrenaline rushing through her veins. The condensation from her breath mixed with the mist to form a milky white cloud. She watched Walter’s silhouette, slightly to her right. Like a mirage, he floated in and out of the mist. Surprisingly, he moved nimbly for someone with a damaged spine. She held her weapon in both hands, pointed at the ground in front of her. Jonna whispered to Walter, but he did not hear her. Instead, he disappeared into the fog. She looked up so she would not lose track of the SWAT officer. She just had time to see the fog swallow him up as well. As she moved rapidly to catch up with the officer, whose name she did not even know, she heard something break under her shoe.
“I CAN SEE that you do not fear death,” the old man began, folding his hands.
Leo Brageler squinted in the direction of the brittle voice.
“Don’t you want to know who we are and what we want?”
The man took out a packet of cigarettes from his inside pocket and lit a cigarette with shaking hands.
Leo Brageler had asked himself that question. The man behind the voice, a voice he had not heard before, seemed to be reading his thoughts. Could he be the leader of these lunatics?
Contents