Licence To Howl by Helen Harper

Chapter Twenty-Six

Devereau had never seen somany police in one place. They’d better hope that damned bomb didn’t go off or it would decimate the infrastructure of Germany’s security and protection services for decades to come. He paused. Huh.

Meyer marched back from the official he’d been arguing with. ‘They won’t let us get any closer,’ he hissed, his jaw tight with frustration. ‘So far they think they’ve identified two separate devices but they think there might be more. Neither device is inside the actual building itself, which is something to be thankful for.’

Devereau swept his gaze round. It was a glorious building. Although it was far larger than the Pantheon, its glass dome and towering pillars at the front somehow put him in mind of the Italian structure as it had been until yesterday evening. He stared at it. And then he shook his head. No. This wasn’t right.

‘Have there been any demands yet?’ he asked. ‘Have the German authorities been asked for money?’

‘Apparently not.’ Meyer sniffed. ‘The bombs were found before the terrorists could do so.’ As soon as the words left his mouth, he frowned. ‘But that doesn’t make sense,’ he said slowly. ‘This is the most heavily guarded building in Berlin. With the police on high alert, those devices were always going to be found quickly.’

Concern flitted across Scarlett’s face. ‘And as soon as they were discovered,’ she said, ‘security forces from across the city would leave their other posts and descend here.’

Devereau nodded grimly. ‘This isn’t the target. Those bombs aren’t inside the building because security is too tight. The terrorists would never get explosives inside the Reichstag no matter how well they planned their operation.’ He looked round again. Despite the numbers of people milling around, there was an air of unhurried calm. The only palpable excitement was coming from the gaggle of journalists, who were being kept even further away from the scene than they were. Nobody was particularly concerned – and they absolutely should be. ‘You need to go and talk to them again. The troops and the police need to be pulled way from here and sent to the other important buildings and landmarks in Berlin. This is a bluff. There’s a reason Avanopoulos went to such a public location and made himself known. He wanted the bombs to be found. He wanted everyone to be drawn to this location. In fact …’ His voice trailed off as his eye caught a flurry of movement over by the media crowd. ‘Something’s happening,’ he said. He squared his shoulders. ‘We have to find out what.’ He began to stride in the journalists’ direction, but Scarlett caught his arm.

‘What?’

She held up her phone. ‘This,’ she said. ‘This is what’s happening.’

Devereau squinted at the screen, his stomach dropping when he saw what was displayed there. All around them, the atmosphere was changing. More people were looking down at their phones, growing horror reflected on all their faces. Konig pushed her way through the crowd towards them.

‘I have it too,’ she spat. ‘It’s all over social media in both English and German.’

Scarlett swallowed. ‘This is it, Dev. Avanopoulos or Alina or whoever is else is involved? This is definitely them.’

‘The German government has one hour to hand over two thousand bitcoin,’ Devereau read, his stomach dropping with every word. ‘Or three specific locations in Berlin will be blown up like the Pantheon was in Rome. Eeny meeny miny mo.’ Shit. ‘They’re escalating. More targets. More money. And less time.’

‘And they’re making fun of us with that eeny meeny shit. What’s the bet,’ Scarlett said in a chilled voice, ‘that the targets are more than an hour’s travel away from here so we can’t find them in time?’

Meyer’s jaw tightened. ‘We know the shortlisted buildings from what the Dutchman in Rome revealed. They’ve been swept already. There will still be security forces in those places regardless of what’s happening here.’

‘The terrorists will know that Vissier was picked up. They must know their original shortlist will have been revealed and have surely adapted their plans accordingly. They’re ten steps ahead of us.’ Devereau spoke urgently. ‘What landmarks might be targeted that aren’t on that shortlist but are more than an hour away?’

Meyer threw his hands up. ‘There are lots of places! The fucking bombs could be anywhere!’

‘Think,’ Devereau hissed. ‘Museums. Churches. What could be destroyed that would hurt Berliners the most?’

‘I don’t know!’

Konig lifted up her chin. ‘How about the Oberbaum Bridge?’

Meyer stiffened. ‘It’s not a building.’

‘No,’ Konig agreed. ‘But it has symbolic and economic importance. It formed part of the border between East and West Berlin. It’s now seen as a symbol of unity for the entire city. Besides, why are we looking for a museum or a church? They’re all closed now because of what happened at the Pantheon. Oberbaumbrucke makes more sense.’

‘Except at most,’ Meyer said, ‘it’s only twenty minutes from here.’

Scarlett looked at them both. ‘Do you have any other ideas? Anywhere else that might be a target?’

‘It’s a needle in a haystack.’ Meyer’s shoulders slumped. ‘One of the targets could be the Oberbaum. Who’s to say? If we make a mistake, if we go to the wrong place …’

The gremlin, whose name Devereau still didn’t know and who up until now, hadn’t uttered a single word, interrupted. ‘Look at the message,’ he said. ‘Read it again.’

It was Rosenfarben who spotted it first. ‘Scheisse,’ he spat. ‘One of the targets is definitely Oberbaumbrucke,’ he said. ‘It has to be.’

‘I don’t …’ Meyer paled. ‘Schnick schnack schnuck.’

Devereau blinked. ‘Huh?’

‘Instead of eeny meeny miny mo, the German demand is written as schnick schnack schnuck.’

‘It’s not a taunt,’ Konig breathed. ‘It’s a clue. They want us to find one of the bombs. They want us to confirm they are not lying.’

Of course. He raised his eyes heavenward as he realised Konig had to be right. It was the only way they’d get their damned money. ‘What’s the clue?’ Devereau demanded. ‘What does it mean?’

‘When we play rock paper scissors, sometimes in German we say schnick schnack schnuck.’

‘So?’ Scarlett asked.

‘There’s an art installation on Oberbaum bridge. A neon sign displaying –’

‘Let me guess,’ Devereau said, ‘rock, paper, scissors.’ His body tensed. ‘Let’s go. Now.’

* * *

The Oberbaum Bridgewas only one location and the demands had stated there were three. In the absence of any other solid leads, however, there was no choice. Meyer, Scarlett and the other German vampires headed for the cars although, alas, they were not parked nearby. Rosenfarben and the taciturn gremlin spun towards the police who were coordinating the scene to demand their attention and tell them what they’d worked out. Konig, Devereau and the other two Berlin alphas didn’t need to say a word to each other. They all knew what they had to do. In less than ten seconds, where once there had been five human shaped bodies, there were five werewolves. Some of the nearby humans let out cries of alarm; none of them paid them any attention, however. Let the humans wring their hands and panic. The werewolves were going to take control.

Mila Konig led the way. Devereau was almost twice her size and could have overtaken her with ease but this was her city - and besides, he didn’t know the way. The only good thing was that once the Reichstag was behind them, the streets were clear of both people and traffic. The German police had already evacuated the nearby area and any and all traffic had been directed elsewhere. The small troupe of werewolves thundered down the Berlin roads, claws skittering on the cold ground. They ran like hell itself was after them and with such speed and urgency that it wasn’t until the bridge itself came into sight that Devereau heard the squeal of sirens as the Berlin emergency services also hurled themselves towards the same spot.

It wasn’t quite what Devereau had been expecting. For one thing, the bridge was built as some kind of double decker structure, with trains travelling across the top level and cars and pedestrians beneath. It was made out of some kind of striking red stone, which contrasted sharply with the nearby buildings and added to the dramatic effect. Not only that but the top half of the bridge looked more like a castle than a functional way of crossing the river which split Berlin in two. There were four small turrets stretching up from the centre. It was almost as if he’d suddenly found himself inside a fairy tale. At this point, however, a happy ending was looking increasingly unlikely.

While the other werewolves darted for the lower level, examining the arches and sniffing for bombs, Devereau scrabbled up to the railway line over their heads. A bomb up there would collapse the upper level of the bridge onto the road and pedestrians below and would be far more devastating. A ridge of fur bristled all the way down his spine, from the nape of his neck to his tail, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Coming here to the bridge was a massive gamble regardless of what happened next.

There were shouts from below as police car after fire engine after ambulance appeared, their flashing lights creating an eerie strobe light effect. Satisfied that they would clear the bridge and keep the public away, Devereau focused on the job in hand. Keeping his paws well away from the electrified train tracks, he ran lightly down the length of the bridge, his eyes and nose focused on finding any indication of any sort of bomb. There was old graffiti, smears of oil and an abandoned wasp’s nest. But no matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t see anything that looked likely to explode. By the time he reached the other end of the bridge, others had joined him. The scene was swarming with werewolves, called no doubt by their three alphas, vampires and humans. He spotted several more pixies, scaling up the side of the bridge to examine every nook and cranny. He heaved in a breath. There was nothing here. There was no bomb. Angling his head downwards, he caught a glimpse of Scarlett’s head. She felt his eyes on her and turned, looking upwards with a question in her eyes. He shook his head and she grimaced.

‘There’s nothing down here either,’ she called, raising her voice to make it heard about the clamour. ‘Maybe this bridge isn’t one of the targets after all.’

Maybe it wasn’t. Or maybe the bastard terrorists had simply placed the bomb somewhere completely out of sight. Devereau leaned out further and gazed down at the river beneath. Slabs of ice were floating down it, passing from one side of the bridge to the other. The water looked treacherous – and bloody freezing. Devereau hissed under his breath. He was an idiot for thinking it. And he would definitely be an idiot for doing it. He glanced at Scarlett again. Her eyes widened as she realised what he was planning to do. She opened her mouth to shout something, but it was too late. Whatever she yelled was swallowed up in the wind and sirens and melee of other voices as Devereau soared out from over her head and plunged straight down into the icy water below.

The temperature was more of a shock than he’d anticipated, and the current was far stronger. He gasped as his head broke above the surface. Fuck, that was cold. And, yes, he was definitely an idiot. The only good thing was that apparently wolves were more than capable of swimming. He allowed the current to carry him under the bridge itself and then used the strength of his own body and limbs to remain there while he searched the arched underside. Someone with a small boat could have sailed under here and surreptitiously planted a bomb without anyone noticing. It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility.

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. He had to 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.