Page 68 of Licence To Howl
Cold began to seep through his sodden fur and into his skin, leeching to his bones. He forced himself not to think about it. He had to find the fucking explosive. It had to be here.
Something caught his peripheral vision, something dark and misshapen that was caught against the side of one the massive pillars holding the bridge in place. Devereau quickly turned and swam towards it. Was it …?
No. It was simply a piece of driftwood wedged against the side of the bridge. His entire body was shivering now, fighting against the freezing water. He clenched his jaw. Further down perhaps. He had to look everywhere.
He swam hard, pushing against the current that was trying its hardest to pull him away from the Oberbaum and down river. The sheer energy it took to not be carried away exhausted him. He could do this, he told himself. Hehadto do this.
That was the exact moment when he saw it. It was on the underside of the bridge itself, perpendicular to the road above, and stuck to the very centre of the arch he was underneath. Beyond the odd Hollywood film, he’d never seen a bomb in person before. He knew that’s what it was the moment he saw it, however, despite its lack of obvious ticking timer or red and blue wires. This was no piece of driftwood. He also knew, with a certainty that chilled him far more than the freezing water, that he couldn’t reach it – not as a werewolf and not as a human. It had to be at least nine metres above his head. There was no way to climb up and cling on to the bricks. There was no way to reach the bomb. He possessed excellent climbing skills but he was no Spiderman and he couldn’t defeat the laws of gravity. The only thing he could do was alert the others on the bridge above him.
‘Devereau!’
It was Scarlett. He breathed out and swam towards the sound of her voice. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish but he had to do it. He had to reach her.
‘Devereau!’
He emerged out from underneath the bridge and looked up to see her leaning out from the lower level of the bridge. When she saw him, her face went slack with relief and that alone gave him the surge to swim towards her. As soon as he was directly underneath, he forced himself to shift so he could speak. His body shook and shivered as he managed the transformation while almost entirely submerged in the river. The few seconds it took to change meant that he was dragged away by the current yet again. Cursing, he turned and swam for all his might until he could see Scarlett’s pale face yet again.
‘It’s here!’ he yelled through chattering teeth. ‘It’s underneath the third arch! I can’t reach it, Scarlett. Without a boat, nobody can!’
‘Get the fuck out of the water, you bloody stupid wolf!’ she shouted back.
He managed a grin – but that was about it. Now that he no longer had the protection of his thick lupine fur, he knew he was in trouble. He didn’t have the same strength to fight against the current and he certainly couldn’t cope with the cold although, oddly, he no longer actually felt cold. Quite the opposite in fact. He suddenly felt very warm indeed. The tiny logical part of his brain that was still in working order told him that was a very bad thing. It meant hypothermia was setting in. He tried to summon up the energy to do something about it. It all seemed so hard though. And he was so very tired. Devereau closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax, just as something splashed down in the water beside him.
‘This outfit,’ Scarlett’s voice said in his ear, ‘is dry clean only. You owe me big time, buster.’ Her arms went round his body and she began swimming away from the bridge and towards the shore, towing him with her as she went.
And then for some time after that, Devereau heard nothing at all.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The hot sweetcocoa which had been thrust into his hands was like manna from heaven.
‘You do realise, Mr Webb,’ Sarah Greensmith said, with a deeply disapproving look, ‘that one of the reasons we recruited you was your apparently high level of intelligence. In the last day or so, you have not lived up to that in any way, shape or form. Leaping into a freezing cold river at the height of a Berlin winter was not a smart move.’ She sniffed. ‘We are not in the habit of hiring martyrs.’
Scarlett pushed herself off the wall she was leaning against and marched towards Greensmith, positioning herself between her and Devereau. ‘What’s your fucking problem? You recruited him. You pulled him into this with no training, no support and, from what I can see, nothing but threats against him. You can’t lay all this shit on his shoulders! What are you doing to stop these bastards? I’ve not seen one ounce of effort from you or anyone else in MI5! I get that you’re looking for somebody to blame but we all know none of this is Devereau’s fault. He’s done a damned sight more than anyone else has!’
Devereau blinked. The sudden warmth which was spreading through him wasn’t simply because of the syrupy hot chocolate. ‘Why, Scarlett,’ he croaked, ‘I didn’t know you cared.’
‘Shut up, Devereau!’
Uh, okay then. He leaned back. Sarah Greensmith didn’t glance at him; her steady gaze was focused entirely on Scarlett.
‘Believe me, Miss Cook,’ she said evenly, ‘I have conveyed as much to my superiors. You should know that despite his foolishness, the German Chancellor has also privately expressed her gratitude to Mr Webb.’
‘Well, that’s wonderful,’ Scarlett said, every word dripping with heavy sarcasm. ‘That makes up for everything.’
‘At least nobody died this time.’
Devereau sat up again. ‘What happened?’ he asked. ‘Did the bridge …?’ For some reason he couldn’t quite form the words to complete the sentence.
‘No, Mr Webb. After you confirmed the presence of the bomb, the German government did the unthinkable.’
‘They paid the money?’
Greensmith’s mouth downturned. ‘They did indeed. Nothing exploded. It appears the devices were linked to mobile phones. One call was all it would have taken to trigger the explosives. The other two targets have been discovered. They’re both high value buildings on the outskirts of the city. They are being made safe as we speak. There has been no loss of life and no damage to any property. But Berlin have played right into the terrorists’ hands.’
‘The alternative would have been much worse!’ Scarlett shot back.
‘This is what they wanted. They left that clue to the Oberbaum bridge because they wanted the bomb found before it blew up. Their end goal is to make money and that’s exactly what they’ve done. You might think that paying them off is for the greater good but if you yield to one terrorist once, then they all think you’ll do it again. It opens Germany up to terrible future atrocities. The only alternative left now is to hunt down everyone involved and make sure they never see the light of day. Unfortunately,’ Greensmith added grimly, ‘that may prove harder than it sounds. Avanopoulos has a lot of contacts. He could go to ground, change his face, hide himself away and we’ll never see him again. It’s highly unlikely he’s no longer in Germany.’
