Once Dead – Chapters 1 and 2
Jack had always craved danger’s adrenaline rush. But in the twenty-two months since his Calcutta deathbed experience and his subsequent rebirth atop the old nun’s surgery table, that craving wrapped him like an anaconda, hard enough to make him question the nature of his near death encounter. Whether the demon was a deathbed hallucination or had just left out a few key details, it had changed the way he experienced this world. And if he didn’t get control of it, that craving was going to render him every bit as dead as most of the world thought he already was.
As he sat at one of the outdoor tables, sipping cappuccino and gazing out across the Heidelberg marktplatz, he forced himself to relax into the moment. He wasn’t the only American in the plaza, but this morning most of the tables beneath the red, blue, green, and white umbrellas were filled with Germans out enjoying a sunny Saturday morning. From where he sat, he could see the Heidelberg Castle ruins over the tile rooftops of the buildings that lined the square’s southeastern edge.
It was ten o’clock in the morning and, outside the Max Bar, a slender fraulein was busy setting frothy glasses of Romer Pils in front of the four men at the table closest to Jack’s. From the volume of their conversation and laughter, it was clear this wasn’t their first round and wasn’t likely to be the last.
Wiping his cappuccino mustache onto a paper napkin, Jack pushed back his chair and began a leisurely stroll across the cobblestones, his path carrying him toward his ten thirty appointment on the Alte Brucke, Heidelberg’s picturesque old bridge across the Neckar River. Officially it was the Karl-Theodor-Brucke, but nobody called it anything but the Old Bridge. The beauty of the nine red-brick arches that supported the walking bridge made it a favorite for both tourists and locals alike. It made it a perfect spot for the type of conversation Jack would soon be having.
Jack stopped five meters south of Carl Theodor’s statue, leaned up against the stone railing, and looked out over the Neckar to the east. The stunning blond woman who stepped up beside him was tall and slender. Her hair, tied back in a French braid, reached halfway down her back.
“Herr Frazier, is it?” Her soft German accent enhanced the tonal quality of her voice.
Jack nodded. “Frau Gunderson. You can call me Jack.”
She leaned over the stone wall to look down at the water flowing beneath the bridge, then snuggled up close to him, as if they were two lovers standing side by side, taking in the sights.
“You received my package?”
“Yes.”
“Did you find it acceptable?”
The stress in her whispered query carried a desperation she failed to hide. Jack had felt that sort of desperation in the voices of all of his recent employers, although the reasons behind that desperation were as varied as the people involved. Alleviating that pain was as important in his choice of employers as the money that came with it.
He smiled. “Your offer was fine.”
Her breath released with an audible sigh and, when she leaned her face against his, Jack felt her tears dampen his cheek.
“Thank you, Jack. For the first time in weeks, I feel some hope.”
Jack, enfolded her in his powerful arms, feeling her fall into the protective embrace. “Hang on to that feeling.”
Taking a big breath, Rachel leaned back to stare directly into his eyes. “How should I arrange payment?”
“I only take payment when the job is done.”
Recovering her equilibrium, Rachel Gunderson wiped her eyes and gazed up into his face.
“Unusual business practice.”
“It works for me.”
“From what I’ve heard, that’s not surprising. It’s why I sought you out. We – I needed the best.”
Taking her two delicate hands in his, Jack gave them a firm squeeze and smiled.
“So, now you can relax.”
Then, with one last look into her blue eyes, he turned and strolled back along the bridge in the direction from which he’d come.
~ ~ ~
From the corner of his eye, Klaus Diebert watched the couple leaning against each other, as he pretended to take in the sights from the opposite side of the bridge. For the last ten days, he’d shadowed Rachel Gunderson’s every move outside her estate, but this was the first time she’d met someone he didn’t know. The way she leaned her head into his as they talked, then dabbed away tears as they parted, they could have been secret lovers. But Klaus knew everything there was to know about the former supermodel and wife of Rolf Gunderson, founder and CEO of Hamburg Technautics. Klaus knew she had no current lovers, male or female, not even her husband.
Watching the lean man with the short, spiked-up blond hair slide through the crowd as he walked back toward the southern bridge towers, a sense of familiarity seized Klaus. He didn’t know the man, yet he did. One predator’s recognition of another. And this one made his skin crawl.
No doubt about it. Rachel Gunderson had called in a heavy hitter.
As Rachel turned in the opposite direction, Klaus fought the choice that suddenly confronted him. His job was to stay on Rachel. But this might be his best chance to find out just who had decided to involve himself in Rachel’s business. Right now, Klaus badly wanted to know the answer to that question.
Making up his mind, Klaus began casually strolling along the bridge after the stranger, letting Rachel disappear among the pedestrians behind him.
Chapter 2
Jack had spotted Rachel’s unwanted tail as she approached him. Now, as he walked away from her along the Alte Brucke, he felt the man’s indecision. Predictably, the tail disengaged from Rachel and attached itself to his backside. Feeling anticipation rise up inside, Jack damped it back down. Self-discipline had become his obsession, the only way to master his newfound addiction.
Passing through the tower-gate on the Alte Brucke’s south side, Jack crossed the street and entered the Wirtshaus Zum Nepomuk, taking a seat by the window. It was one of Jack’s favorite spots in Heidelberg, good food, good drink, and good atmosphere, all in a small package. Right now it was giving his tail a problem. Following Jack inside would be a dead giveaway, and standing out on the street wouldn’t do either. Also, since the gasthaus was situated on the corner across from the Alte Brucke, there were no convenient shops or bars from which a watcher could casually maintain surveillance while Jack ate lunch. And he planned a leisurely repast. Might as well start this new relationship on his terms, especially since it wasn’t likely to last.
Holding up a finger, Jack signaled the waitress. “Der speisekarte, bitte?”
In moments, she returned with the leather bound menu, took his drink order, and departed. Although Jack knew the menu by heart, he took his time, using the menu and the fact that the restaurant interior was darker than the street outside to mask his study of his opponent. The man was a couple of inches taller than Jack, about six foot three, flaxen hair tied back in a short pony tail, with weight lifter musculature. He wore a tan blazer over khaki pants. Although no bulge gave it away, the way his left arm moved told Jack he wore a holstered gun beneath that shoulder.
The man stopped on the opposite side of the street and looked around, letting his gaze casually sweep the gasthaus before moving off to the west. Taking a seat beneath a tree alongside Neckerstaden, he leaned back, just a man enjoying a leisurely summer day. There were two problems with that approach. It placed him in the open where Jack could watch him and ensured he could only see the gasthaus entrance, not the man within.
Jack ordered his meal, then sipped his beer until his plate arrived. As usual, the Jaeger Schnitzel was to die for. But he wouldn’t be the one dying today.
Across the street, the man beneath the tree stood up, looked toward the gasthaus, and raised his cellphone to his ear. In so doing, he was weighed, measured, and found wanting. An impatient man.
Jack signaled the waitress.
“Ich möchte zahlen.”
She handed him the check and he handed her fifteen Euros. Waving away the change, he stepped through the door and out into the bright sunlight.
Jack turned left, letting his feet carry him back onto the Alte Brucke and across the Neckar, before cutting diagonally across Neuenheimer Landstrasse. As he turned up the narrow Schlengenweg trail, he felt his stalker pick up the pace, trying to keep Jack in sight. With the houses dropping away behind him, the walking trail wound its way up the densely wooded hill. Rounding a bend, Jack stepped behind a tree, stopped, and waited. He didn’t have to wait long.
As the bigger man rounded the bend in the trail, Jack’s flying elbow caught him flush on the nose, dropping him to the ground as if he’d been pole axed. Before the fellow could roll to his knees, Jack kicked him in the side of the head and dragged him into the dense underbrush.
Laying the man on his back, Jack took a cellphone photo of his face and then fished his wallet, passport, and cellphone from his pockets. Plugging a small attachment into his phone, Jack swiped each of the man’s credit cards through the slot in the device, also swiping the magnetic strip on the man’s ID card. Klaus Diebert.
Jack opened the passport, taking more photos as he flipped through its pages. Then, attaching a cable between his cellphone and Klaus’s, he copied the contents of Klaus’s phone to his.
Without bothering to wipe away his own prints, Jack returned everything to Klaus’s pockets. The sooner the bad guys found out exactly who they were dealing with the better. Leaving the Glock 17 in its shoulder holster and the ankle knife in its sheath, Jack turned Klaus on his side so he wouldn’t drown in the blood draining from his broken nose.
Then, with a quick check to verify that no passers-by were visible on the Schlengenweg trail, he began the leisurely stroll back to his motorcycle.
