Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
The sun burned the horizon as it rose, and Asher slipped on his shades, hiding his tired eyes as Luke and Asher continued to canvass the area of Kreuzberg.
Luke sat behind the wheel with Asher riding shotgun. He patted the cargo pants pocket on the side of his left leg, and the feel of the knife Jessica had given him this past Christmas had his heart steadying a touch.
You got me a knife? For Christmas? He’d been unable to fight the smile on his lips when he’d discovered they were each other’s secret Santa.
“We’ll find her,” Luke said, cutting through his thoughts. It’d probably been the tenth time he’d said those words since driving.
Asher nodded. His own words trapped in his throat.
He should’ve told Jessica how he felt before she got on that plane—told her the truth. But how could he have known it may have been his last chance?
No. His body tensed. Fuck that. He peered back out the window. I’ll find you, he thought the words, as if she could hear him.
Luke’s phone began ringing a beat later, and Asher grabbed it from the dashboard mount to answer, placing it on speaker.
“I just got off the phone with Owen. We’re pretty sure we know who we’re dealing with. I’m texting you the information now,” Liam said.
A sharp breath of air filled Asher’s lungs as he steadied his eyes on the screen.
“What do we have?” Luke clutched the wheel so tightly, his knuckles whitened.
“Four terror groups merged in 2017 to form the group Tahrir al-Sham after al-Nusra split ties with al-Qaeda. There appears to be a power struggle for the general military commander now,” Liam explained.
“The two images I sent are of Bora Nadar and Samir Hadeed. They’re the ones who are vying for power. ”
“Samir’s Fatima’s son. Ara’s cousin,” Asher said. “He’d barely been a teenager when I met him in Aleppo.” Was he really twenty now?
“So, why the hell is he now claiming to be the heir to a terrorist group? What happened to him?” Luke asked.
“We’re still looking into it. But maybe he had Ara killed to show his commitment to the organization. And I’m betting he’s not done,” Liam said.
Asher’s shoulder blades pinched together as he gripped the bridge of his nose. “I assume you’re already running a list of every known contact of Samir’s?”
“Yeah. If anyone is in Berlin right now, we’ll get a match,” Liam responded. “We also got word the German police found Egon’s latest vehicle ditched.”
“Where?” Asher’s body tensed.
“Twenty kilometers outside Berlin. Looks like he’s heading to Poland, and he’s already handed over Jessica,” Liam answered.
“My contact tipped off the Germans. They’ll be looking for Egon,” Luke reminded him. “We need to let the Germans handle him for now.”
Asher hated the idea of letting the prick go, but Luke was right. Finding Jessica and stopping a potential attack was all that mattered.
“One sec,” Liam said a moment later. “Owen’s calling. I’ll patch him onto the line.”
“Where are you guys?” Owen asked.
“Still in Kreuzberg scoping out the area,” Luke responded.
“Good, because facial recognition got a hit on one of Yasser Hadeed’s enforcers from back in the day. He lives under an alias in Berlin. I also got him on camera with Ara a day before she emailed Jessica.”
Had Ara really baited Jessica into coming to Berlin?
Had this guy forced her to send the email?
It was a hard pill to swallow, but if she had done it there had to have been a reason for it.
Asher stuffed the thoughts away. He needed to focus on the danger at hand. “He must now work with Samir,” he said.
“Looks that way,” Owen replied. “He’s been quiet since Yasser died, but he’s our only lead at the moment, and he just hopped onto the U6.”
Asher sat straighter at the news.
“My best guess is he’ll get off at Mehringdamm,” Owen said. “I’m sending you his image now.”
“How long of a ride does he have?” Asher asked.
“Six minutes, give or take. Can you make it to the station?” Owen asked.
Luke input the address into the GPS. “We’re four minutes out.”
“I’m monitoring every stop in between in case he gets off early,” Owen said.
“Any ideas as to where he may have been coming from?” Asher’s free hand tightened into a hard fist atop his thigh.
“One idea,” Liam joined the line. “He was within walking distance to where Jessica was taken on Sunday. There’s still a lot of police and media camped out in that area, though.”
“I’m scanning the cams over there now to see if I can get any hits,” Owen added.
“Okay. Good work. We’ll call once we’re in position.” Luke ended the call and glanced at Asher.
Asher’s mouth tightened, and he looked back at the screen, his veins pulsing with fury as he studied the man on the phone.
Medium height and build. Long dark hair and a beard. Early forties, maybe.
He tapped at the screen and zoomed in on the guy to get a better look at his face and clothes. “Black jeans. A worn-out brown jacket to his knees. He shouldn’t be too hard to miss in that get-up.”
“Let’s hope not.” Luke parallel parked a few minutes later. “You take the back. I’ll get Liam on the phone and head to the front.”
“Plan of attack? Engage or wait for backup?” He wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait if the target led them to Jessica, though. But they had no idea how many enemy combatants they’d be up against, and if they made one wrong move it could risk Jessica’s life.
“We’ll keep it fluid,” Luke answered before getting out of the car, which meant he hadn’t made up his mind yet.
Asher zipped up his fleece jacket, which concealed his sidearm, and stepped out of the SUV.
It was a Tuesday morning, a work day, and the streets were crowded. People spilled out of the train station and flooded the area, but he kept his eyes sharp on the crowd, scanning every face.
He hung back far enough away from the exit, holding his phone as if checking messages to avoid suspicion. The smell of currywurst from the nearby restaurant hit his nose, and he took a step back to dodge a woman and her baby stroller as they passed.
His eyes journeyed back to the exit of the station, and his pulse spiked at the sight of a man coming up the steps alongside a group of teens.
Brown jacket and black jeans. Check. Check.
Got you, motherfucker. He phoned Luke and gave him the location as he trailed him, keeping a few paces behind.
A moment later, he locked eyes with Luke, who’d rounded the corner up ahead, and tipped his chin in the direction of their target.
Luke joined the flow of pedestrians, keeping the man in his sights.
A few minutes passed before the target stopped outside a three-story brown building that looked like it belonged in the Cold War era with its run-down exterior and peeling paint.
Luke held a closed fist, signaling for Asher to stay back.
He gave a hesitant nod, hating to wait, but he followed orders and watched as Luke entered through the door.
No code to get in, which made things easier.
After a few minutes, though, he decided to head in.
There were five apartments on the first floor, and he assumed the same would be true on the second and third levels.
Where the hell are you? At the sound of something breaking from above, he rushed up the flight of steps and followed the noise.
A partially open door.
He drew his weapon and clung to the shadows in the hall outside the apartment.
“Where the fuck is she?” Luke roared.
Asher moved into the apartment and found Luke in the kitchen, pointing the barrel of his gun at the target. The man was sprawled with his back on the tiled floor and his palms in the air.
A woman clutched a girl to her body and stood pressed against the refrigerator, watching the scene in horror.
“The place is secure. No sign of her,” Luke said without looking at Asher.
“What happened?” He moved to stand alongside Luke and kept his weapon drawn.
The muscle in Luke’s jaw tightened as he stared down at the man on the floor. “I’m trying to find out.”
Asher placed one palm in the air and stepped around the man to get to the woman and child.
“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” Luke asked from behind.
No answer from the woman or child, and nothing from the man on the floor, either.
Asher lowered the gun to his side. “English?” He crouched to eye level with the girl. “Was there a woman here? A pretty blonde?” He was grasping at straws, but . . .
Luke repeated Asher’s question, but in German, and then Asher did his best to string the question together in Arabic. He was rusty, but it was worth a shot.
Still nothing.
The little girl’s eyes widened a moment later, though, and she gently lifted her chin, and her gaze veered toward the hall at the back end of the kitchen.
Asher gave a slight nod in understanding and turned to find Luke leaning in closer to the target, burying his knee deep into his chest, adding pressure.
“I’m going to look around.” Asher followed the direction of the girl’s gaze and found a hall that split off to the left and right.
After searching the right side and coming up empty, he went and checked the left side and found one room.
He flicked on the light and glanced at the mattress, more like a cot, beneath the window. Then his gaze swung over to an empty table off to his left.
He started to turn but slowed and lifted his booted foot carefully, then pressed it down harder. A hollow feel.
He crouched, lifted the decorative carpets, and shoved them out of the way. Within moments, his fingers were pulling at the loose floorboards.
“Christ,” he said under his breath as he gazed at a cache of weapons, explosive materials, and a few cans of paint.
He shoved upright and went back to the kitchen. “We’ve got a problem.”
Luke still had the son of a bitch pinned beneath him, the gun trained on the man. “What’d you find?”