The Hunt

68

‘You know what Miles would say?’ Narov reiterated. ‘Even though he is being held hostage, he would still tell us to detonate. He would sacrifice his own life to save countless millions. I do not understand what we are waiting for.’

‘You wouldn’t,’ Jaeger fired back at her. ‘It’s called compassion. Empathy. And basically you’re devoid of it.’

‘Yeah,’ Raff cut in. ‘You’d sell out your own grandmother.’

Narov turned on them. For a moment it looked as if she was about to lash out, but somehow she managed to hold herself back.

‘Let me tell you something about my grandmother,’ she hissed. ‘The man who raped her…’ She paused. ‘That man was SS General Hans Kammler.’ She jabbed a finger in the direction of the plant below. ‘That bastard’s father. Which makes him my half-uncle. So rather than selling out my grandmother, I’m here to make sure she’s avenged!’

Jaeger shook his head in disbelief. ‘Kammler? Your uncle? But you’ve never breathed a word.’

Narov glared. ‘And I should tell you because? When did you ever give a damn about anyone other than your turncoat of a wife? She came here against all our wishes and against everything we stand for. She should die along with the rest of them.’

Jaeger’s eyes flashed anger. ‘What, because she’s the hostage of a madman?’

‘Okay, guys, knock it off,’ Raff cut in. ‘Time’s running out. What the fuck are we supposed to do?’

Silence. Brooding and toxic.

No one had any suggestions.

Jaeger felt the Iridium vibrate. He pulled it out expecting another of Kammler’s messages seeking an update from the recently deceased Ustanov. But he saw instead that he had an incoming call, the ID showing it to be ‘K’.

Hans Kammler himself.

He was torn. Should he or shouldn’t he answer?

If he didn’t, that would sow the seeds of doubt in Kammler’s mind that all was well with Ustanov. And while Kammler would know Ustanov’s voice, surely he wouldn’t know those of all his team? It could be any one of them speaking on behalf of their boss.

He let the call go to voicemail. No message was left. Instead, the Iridium began to vibrate again.

Jaeger grabbed his khaki scrim and wrapped it around his face, flicking the Iridium to ‘speaker’. The combination of the scarf and the broadcast-mode should muddy his voice enough, or so he hoped.

He pressed answer.

‘Good morning, William Jaeger,’ a voice rang out.

Kammler’s.

‘Plus the delightful Irina Narov. And the redoubtable Raff and Alonzo. Do I have you all present and correct, and hanging on my every word?’

Jaeger glanced at the others: how in God’s name did Kammler know they had Ustanov’s phone? And how on earth was he supposed to respond? He didn’t feel as if he had any alternative but to answer.

‘We’re here,’ he confirmed through gritted teeth.

‘Welcome,’ Kammler continued, ‘although I understand you’ve actually been here for some time. You should have popped down earlier to say hello. Oh, if you’re wondering how I know you’re here? The Iridium: great technology. Sometimes the Americans do get it just right. It has a camera front and back and a remote interrogate function. Look at you all. Crouched in your stinking, shitty little dark hole.’

He guffawed. ‘Say hello, everyone. Give Hank and his buddies a wave.’