Game of Shadows (11 page)

He reached the older man and immediately saw Steiner was bleeding through his sweater vest. Two bullets had found their mark in his side. Even though Sean knew they were mortal wounds, he tried to encourage the man.

Sean cradled the man's head as he spoke, staring into nearly vacant eyes. "Stay with me, Herr Steiner. Everything's going to be okay. I'm calling an ambulance right now."

Steiner coughed and smiled through a grimace. He shook his head. "An ambulance won't help me now, young man. We both know that. Just leave me be."

"I can't do that," Sean said with determination. "I don't leave friends behind."

"I..." Steiner winced again. "I appreciate the sentiment, Sean. But I have a feeling I'm going to have the answers you seek before you do." The insinuation wasn't lost on Sean, and he swallowed back the pain.

Inside, he cursed himself for bringing the older man into the fray. He'd put Steiner in harm's way and been unable to protect him.

Steiner could see the conflict and pain in Sean's eyes. "Do not blame yourself," he said in a whisper. "I've lived a good life. I am ready."

He smiled again even though he was in tremendous agony.

"I'll see my father soon. It is okay, Sean. I am at peace. Continue your quest." He gasped for another breath. The words were more difficult now. "Protect the innocent. This...die Glocke must not...fall...into the wrong...hands." Steiner's lips quivered, and the last breath of air escaped from his lungs. His eyes went still, staring at the sky. The head became heavier in Sean's hands as it went limp.

A tear welled in Sean's right eye, but he fought it back and clenched his teeth. He laid Steiner's head down on the ground gently, crossed the man's hands over his chest, and pulled the eyelids closed.

Moments like this were harder than any others in the line of duty. Sean knew he had to move fast. If there were three men on his heels, there would likely be more. He needed to find out who was after him. On top of that, he had to find where that U-boat went. There was nothing he could do to help Steiner now. And despite the fact that his death was tragic, Sean knew he had to focus on the living.

There would be plenty of time for honoring the dead later. Ignoring the insensitive nature of what he was doing, Sean reached into the man's front pocket and removed the set of keys he'd seen Steiner put there when they left the office less than a half hour ago.

He put his weapon back in its holster and pulled out his phone. A few seconds later, Emily answered as Sean walked over to the dead man by the tree.

"What's your status, Zero?" she asked stoically.

"Three assets terminated. Not sure how they found me, but they did. One civilian casualty. There was nothing I could do. We were ambushed." He tried to speak without much regret, but it swelled up inside him anyway. Steiner was a good man, and the guilt for having involved him was something Sean would have to deal with sooner or later. At the moment, it would need to be later.

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. "Are you still on the scene?"

"Affirmative," Sean answered. "I'm getting out now. Just checking one thing before I go."

He knelt down and pressed the phone against his ear as he searched the pockets of the dead man. He found a Lithuanian passport, a wad of Euros, and a set of keys. He took a picture of the passport name and picture, then dropped it onto the dead man's chest.

"I'm going to send you a picture. It's the passport I found on one of the assets. Find out who he is and who he works for."

"Probably an alias, but I'll run it," she answered. "You need an extract?"

"Not yet," he said, picking up his pace and running over to the other dead assailant lying on his face in the middle of the cemetery.

He reached the other body and sifted through the various pockets until he found what he was looking for. Similarly, the man had a wad of cash and a foreign passport. This one was from the Republic of Georgia. "Looks like they're using identification from former Soviet states," he said, informing Emily of what he'd found. "I'm sending you another image to run."

He repeated the process he'd used with the previous passport and hit send.

"Any leads with what we're looking for?"

Sean started jogging, weaving between the headstones and back onto the narrow concrete path leading to the graveyard entrance. "Not sure yet. Hopefully, I'll know something soon. For the time being, I need to get back across the border into Germany. I'll let you know what I find out later."

"Okay," she said, though her voice indicated that the information was anything but. "We're running out of time."

M
ił
ków
, Poland

When Sean reached the sidewalk along the street, he slowed his pace to a brisk walk. The last thing he wanted to do was be the memorable face of the man that walked away from a quadruple homicide in a cemetery in a quiet Polish town. Fortunately, the gunplay hadn't been noticed. There was so little vehicular and pedestrian traffic that no one heard the suppressed weapons being fired. An older woman with thick, gray hair and a puffy sky-blue shirt hobbled down the sidewalk a few blocks up but never gave any indication she was aware of what had just occurred. Bad news was that his shoulder was bleeding. The stinging pain surged through his arm and up his neck, telling him he needed to check the wound as soon as possible. He needed to get to the bag he’d left in Steiner’s office. Sean always kept a small emergency first aid kid tucked away inside his rucksack. It wasn’t much, but it could keep the wound from getting infected and from the feel of it, he’d only require a few stitches at most.

His thoughts returned to the shootout in the cemetery. Emily would notify the authorities about the incident via an anonymous tip, thus preventing an innocent visitor to the graveyard from discovering dead bodies lying around above ground. The visual ran through Sean's head for an instant, and he pictured the hysteria that would ensue.

He'd text Emily when he crossed back into Germany so she'd know he made it out.

Sean traced his steps back to Steiner's office, the entire time attempting to conceal his wound without looking like he was trying to hide something. When he reached the office he continued walking, passing the front door and windows. He stopped at the next intersection and made a hard left, around to the back of the strip of main street businesses. Once he was behind the buildings, he found the door he was looking for corresponding with Steiner's office and fished the keys out of his pocket. He'd not seen which key the older man had used to lock up, but lucky for Sean, there were only three to choose from, and one was clearly a car key.

He got it right on the first guess, and the lock turned easily, opening the door into the rear of the office.

Sean hurried through an empty room that appeared to have once housed file storage and then into the short corridor leading to the front of the building. He turned right into the side office and stepped around behind the desk. He grabbed his rucksack off the desk and stuck his hand inside it, feeling around for the blue vinyl pouch. His fingers found what he was looking for and set it on the desk. Next, he stripped down to his bare chest and set his clothes on the back of the chair. He examined the wound and was glad to see it was as he’d suspected. The bullet had taken out a chunk of his shoulder, but it missed bone and muscle.

He opened up the kit and set to sterilizing the wound with a peroxide swab. The chemicals sent a new sting through the tear in his skin as it foamed around the congealing blood. Satisfied it was sterile enough, Sean took a piece of adhesive gauze from the pack and pressed it hard against the wound. Once he’d smoothed out the tape he zipped up the emergency kit and stuck it back in the bag.

He put his shirt back on and noticed the leather-bound journals sitting nearby. It wasn’t irreverent to take them. At least that’s what he told himself. He needed the books. With a sigh, Sean stuffed both leather-bound journals into his rucksack, slung the strap over his shoulder and strode quickly back into the hallway. A rapid check in the front office, the hall, and the storage room told him there were no surveillance cameras, a fact that didn't surprise him. Other than the safe in his little office, there was nothing of value in the place.

He strode back to the rear of the building and locked the door. Another look around to make sure no one noticed him, and Sean took off at an Olympic-paced walk. Passing a dumpster, he lifted the lid and dropped the keys inside. No need to have that extra piece of evidence on him.

Four minutes later, he was back in his car and steering it out onto the main road. He glanced in the rearview mirror and watched the sleepy village fade into the forests and hills on the horizon. His eyes kept looking in that direction every thirty seconds for the next hour. Paranoia was a good friend to have in situations where danger could creep up from behind at any moment. It forced Sean to stay focused, sharp.

Crossing the border into Germany proved to be easy enough. A quick stop with the passport control officer, and he was back on the road without much fuss. The dark-haired border patrol officer barely even glanced over Sean's identification. Over the years, going from one country to another had almost become as easy as travel between states back in the U.S. The stops on the borders were more like tollbooths than anything else.

Once he was through and back in Germany, Sean kept driving. He wasn't exactly sure where to go, so he steered the vehicle in the direction of Frankfurt, figuring if he had to fly somewhere, that would be the best place to take off.

He merged with a pack of other cars onto the Autobahn leading south and started to turn on the radio before he felt his phone vibrating against his leg. A moment of dread sprang up in his gut, but he forced it away, a task made much easier when he looked at the caller ID on the screen.

It was Tommy.

"Hey, man," he said coolly in an attempt not to sound even the slightest bit nerve-wracked.

"We were able to dig up that information you requested, though we're not sure it's going to be as helpful as you'd like." Tommy waited for a response before he continued.

"Some info is better than none." Sean switched lanes to let a red Mercedes Benz speed by.

Tommy took an audible breath on the other end. "I agree. So here it is. Saint Sebastian was a third-century Christian who was martyred in AD 288."

"Oh. During Diocletian's persecution of the Christians."

"Right," Tommy confirmed. "Most images suggest he was killed with arrows, but there are some legends that say he spoke out against the emperor and was clubbed to death. No one's really got anything definitive on that."

Sean interrupted again. "Any idea how that bit of information would be pertinent today?"

"Not sure. I suppose it would depend on the context."

Sean thought for a second before answering. "He doesn't happen to have anything to do with the world ending or any sort of post-apocalyptic prophecy, does he?"

"I don't think so. He was just a man who died for his faith. A commoner. However, there is another possibility that ties into a mysterious happening during World War II."

"I'm all ears." Sean switched lanes to get around an eighteen-wheeler and then swerved back.

"Remember before when you asked me to search for information about German U-boats going to South America? Well, we were able to dig up some interesting stuff. Tara and Alex searched the old naval archives and cross-referenced everything with dates close to the end of the war, as well as possible destinations. There is a city on the southern tip of Argentina called
San Sebastián
. It's a decent-sized coastal town with a huge bay that forms a sort of natural harbor. The pictures actually look pretty amazing."

"Focus," Sean sensed his friend getting off track.

"Right. So anyway, San Sebastián could explain why you've seen that name a few times in its European form,
Saint Sebastian
."

He let Sean absorb the news.

"Outstanding," Sean said emphatically.

"Well, let's not count our chickens just yet. However, there is another piece to the puzzle that adds a little more credence to the San Sebastián theory." Sean waited while his friend pulled up some additional info, probably in another document or web page on his computer. "In the naval archives I mentioned earlier, Tara and Alex discovered a peculiar incident. A captain by the name of Jack Harris aboard the
USS Slater
logged a short report about a potential U-boat sighting in one of the lanes between Africa and South America. The event was recorded on May 3, 1945, just a few days before Hitler and his wife ended their lives in the Führer's bunker. Harris was very detailed about the event in his log, and there are some eerie comments made about the whole thing."

"Eerie?"

"Yeah. It seems just before the sub appeared, all of the Slater's instrumentation failed. I'm talking electronics, radar, everything. Harris also claimed that the weather was clear, but when the sub disappeared, a strange fog had drifted into the area, and when it dissipated, the U-boat was gone."

Sean listened closely. "That certainly is an odd sequence of events."

"Sure is. Harris said they started firing on the sub, but it vanished before they could take it down."

"Went below the surface?"

"No," Tommy corrected. "Like it completely disappeared into thin air. And just before it did, the ship's crew reported the same instrument malfunction from before the U-boat showed up."

Tommy was right. It was beyond weird. Sean had heard of different reports of this nature from the archives. Usually, they had to do with UFO sightings, most of the time revolving around the Nevada or New Mexico deserts. There were a few other odd reports, such as the stories and legends surrounding the Bermuda Triangle, but this didn't have anything to do with any of those things. According to what Tommy said, this event occurred far outside of the Bermuda Triangle, and it wasn't aliens they were seeing but a German submarine, far outside its normal route of operation.

He looked out the window as he pondered the details he'd been given. A VW minivan passed by, loaded down with three kids in the back and two worn-out-looking parents in the front. The child at the window closest to Sean was staring at him with his mouth opened wide and lips pressed to the glass.
I feel the same way, kid,
Sean thought.

"You still there?" Tommy asked, plucking Sean from his thoughts.

"Yeah. I'm here. Just trying to process all this."

"It's a mind job, that's for sure. I don't know if it helps with what you're looking for. It just struck me as one of the few things in the archives that really stuck out."

"Actually, this might be exactly what we needed. If a U-boat was able to appear and disappear right in front of an entire ship full of sailors at the same time their instruments went down, I'd say that's the sub I'm looking for."

A silent moment descended on their conversation before Tommy spoke up again. "You're still not going to tell me what it is you're trying to figure out, are you?"

Sean laughed. "Can't do that, buddy. Working for old friends. That's all I can say."

"I understand. But if you're looking for a German U-boat that can do what those reports said, it sounds like you're into something heavy, like dealing with wormhole technology or something."

"I'll let you bend your mind around theories, buddy. All I know is, I've got to get to Argentina as fast as possible."

"Well, before you go, we went ahead and did a search of German names in the region of San Sebastián. We found a few that were of interest. You should probably check those out first if that's where you're headed."

Sean chuckled. Tommy and his assistants were able to dig up nearly any kind of information. While the rest of the world could find what they needed through their favorite search engines, Sean was certain Tommy and the other two had other resources at their disposal.

"How'd you do that?"

"Don't worry about it. You have your secrets. I have mine."

"Fair enough."

"The first person you're looking for is a guy by the name of Alfred Wolfz. I'll send you his address. He's in his sixties. Definitely has German roots. There's not much on his father, which makes me think he was one of the Nazis who escaped the country. The other one is a woman, also in her sixties, named Irena Stoepel. Same kind of background. Definitely German heritage. And just like with Wolfz, it's pretty sketchy."

"What have you got on their families?" Sean pressed his luck. The more he could find out now, the better chance he would have of getting a response from either person when he arrived in Argentina.

"Nothing really. Wolfz had a wife, she's deceased. Kids moved away, not sure where. He lives alone now. Stoepel never married. She also lives by herself in a villa overlooking the coast."

"Sounds like she's doing well for herself. Wonder if there was some kind of trust fund that got her started in life." He let the rest of his idea speak for itself.

"Could be. Anyway, I hope this helps. I'm giving a keynote here in Atlanta in a few hours, so I've got to get going."

"It helps a lot. Thanks, Tommy."

"No problem. Always happy to help."

Sean ended the call and focused on the road. His foot pressed on the accelerator, easing the car into a higher rate of speed. A quick check of the clock on the dashboard told him it was still late in the morning. He picked his phone up and found the contact he needed then hit the green button.

"That was fast." Emily answered on the other end. Always direct.

"Running out of time," Sean said. "But I'm making progress. Would be nice if the terrorists would give us another day."

"Yeah, not gonna happen."