And, actually, it was.
“Let’s hope the BND does our work for us,” he told Knight as they drove away. “We have a lot to do and don’t need Koger’s aggravation.”
Randy Miller was dead. Malone and Koger in custody. The spies within Prince Stefan’s entourage were being dealt with.
Things were looking up.
* * *
DERRICK RESTED ON HIS KNEES, HIS HANDS ON HIS HEAD, FINGERS INTERTWINED.Malone was in the same position about fifty feet away, three-quarters of the way closer down the church’s main aisle to the altar. Three German state police kept guard. One each on him and Malone, both armed, the other talking to the priest with his gun reholstered. The others had fled the nave. They’d already radioed in that the situation was contained and requested additional help. Hopefully, that was going to take a few minutes.
His gaze caught Malone’s.
And saw his old friend was thinking the same thing.
Now or never.
He gave a slight nod of his head. Then bellowed out a loud, unexpected yell. Which had the desired effect, causing a moment of surprise for their two minders. He released his hands from atop his head and swept the legs out from under the cop nearest to him. The man’s arms went high as his butt pounded the floor hard. The gun was the main concern and Derrick punched the man’s right wrist, which caused his fingers to relax their grip.
The gun clattered away.
He swung again, pounding his big paw-like fist into the side of the man’s face. The body went limp and lay still on the floor.
He realized that the cop with the priest was his next concern, so he leaped for the gun on the floor.
* * *
COTTON REACTED THE MOMENT KOGER YELLED, SWINGING HIS RIGHTarm up and around, snatching the gun from the policeman’s grip. He then lunged upward, sweeping his right arm in an arc, driving the gun’s hard metal into the man’s right cheek. Stunned, the policeman staggered back. Cotton hopped to his feet and sent the man to the floor with another blow to the head with the gun. He swung around and saw that Koger had the third policeman contained with a weapon pointed straight at him.
“You done?” Koger asked him.
“I think so.”
He retrieved the cop’s gun, breathing hard from the exertion.
“Don’t die on me,” Koger taunted, advancing toward the priest and relieving the policeman of his gun and radio. “I’m not interested in hurting anybody. So how about you two get into the confessional, one each in a compartment, and close the door. And Padre. I still need your cell phone.”
The priest retrieved it from the floor and handed it over.
The two men stepped inside the booths and closed the doors.
Koger motioned.
He knew what to do.
Knight had disappeared through the curtain. Apparently, there was another way out. One they could take too.
They both rushed that way.
* * *
RIFE SPED OUT OF MUNICH.
He and Knight were headed south toward the house in the alpine foothills where Knight and the others had been staying. Bryie should still be there too. He’d turned over the driving to Knight so that he could read more of what Randy Miller had amassed, especially the one file of specially culled memoranda. He’d imaged them on his phone before leaving earlier, and was anxious to restudy one in particular.
TO: General Dwight Eisenhower
FROM: General William Donovan, OSS