Matthew Dunn - Spycatcher

Will sprinted toward the person before him, but before he could get there, the man spun to face him. As Will crashed into him, the man spun back in the other direction, grabbing one of Will’s arms. The maneuver sent Will straight down to the ground, where he was immediately kicked in the solar plexus by a hard boot. His lungs seized up. The man grabbed Will’s hand and wrenched his arm sideways, at the same time pulling back his leg to kick Will again. Will knew that he would not be able to survive another such blow. Although the movement caused almost intolerable pain on his arm, he swung a leg hard against the man’s only planted foot, causing him to lose balance and crash to the ground. Will pushed himself up and moved toward his assailant, but as he got closer, the man punched a heel against his shin, stopping him in his tracks. The attacker sprang upright, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a knife and stood motionless for a moment, looking at Will.

Both men were breathing deeply, their breath steaming in the icy air. Will looked at the knife, then at the man, then back at the knife. He knew he had to wait for the attack so that he could avoid the angle of the knife thrust in order to strike back. He also knew that he had only one chance of repelling such a strike.

The attacker kept the knife quite still, but instead of going for the kill, he started moving slowly backward. Will looked away from the knife and toward its holder’s visage. The man was smiling. Then he turned and sprinted away from Will and the church.

Will glanced toward Votivkirche and for the briefest of moments wondered whether he should pursue the man or go to help Roger. But he knew that he could not allow even one unit member to get out of the country alive, particularly now that they must have known they’d been set up. The death of this six-man unit would buy him the few hours he needed, but an escapee carrying a message back to his team members in Zagreb would scuttle Will’s plans for those men. He looked away from the church and decided that Roger would have to deal with his opponents on his own.

Will sprinted. His quarry had left the church grounds and was running fast down Rooseveltplatz before heading east on Turkenstrasse toward the direction of the river Danube. He was now at least thirty meters ahead of Will and showed no signs of slowing. The man crossed the road and continued onward before disappearing down a side street. Will ran straight into the street and saw the man ahead of him again. He knew that at the end of this street was the busier Maria Theresien Strasse. He decided to try to take the man down before he reached that road. While still at full sprint, he eased his body out of his weighty overcoat and allowed it to fall to the ground. He instantly felt faster, and within moments he had reduced the distance between himself and his prey to just ten meters, although the intersection was now very close. But the man he was pursuing did not continue onward. Instead he slowed, stopped, and turned to walk right at Will. Like Will, he had clearly decided that matters would now be resolved in this dark, empty street.

Will forced himself to a halt and saw that the man’s knife was out again, held low in his right hand. The man was walking rapidly and this time had no hint of a smile on his face. He moved to within a yard of Will’s body, thrusting the knife upward at his belly. Will jerked sideways and placed his right hand over the man’s wrist, simultaneously stepping closer and punching his left elbow into the man’s throat, forcing him to the ground. With his right hand, he twisted the man’s knife arm and bent his wrist backward, causing the knife to fall from his grip. He kicked the knife away, applying even greater pressure on his assailant’s wrist. The man writhed in pain and moaned loudly. Will held him in the lock for a moment before yanking harder on the wrist and dropping his body weight onto the man’s back. He wrapped his free left arm around the man’s neck and squeezed.

“I truly regret that this has to happen,” he said as he did so.

In two minutes the man’s legs stopped twitching and he was dead.

Will was back in Zagreb. It was now 4:00 A.M. and very dark. It had been only four hours since he and Roger had killed six members of the Iranian hit team in Austria. His objective now was to kill the remaining members in Croatia.

From his position under the illuminated streetlight Will watched the black BMW pull up to a stop alongside him.

Laith exited the vehicle and walked up to him. “Roger’s not back in the country yet. I’ve got to change objectives and get on surveillance of Lana. You’re on your own with this one.” He handed Will the car’s keys, thrust hands into his coat pockets, and walked off.

Will entered the vehicle, checking the map on the passenger seat beside him. He was on Vlahe Bukovca in the district of Zapresic to the northwest of Zagreb, and he knew that he would need to move only a few hundred meters to spot his target on Pavla Loncara. He breathed deeply and swiveled to look at the vehicle’s backseat. In its center rested a Diemaco C8 Special Forces Weapon and two spare thirty-round magazine clips. He picked up the assault rifle and quickly checked over its mechanics before jamming the carbine between the passenger seat and the handbrake. He placed the spare clips into his outer coat pockets, switched off the interior light, and turned on the vehicle’s ignition and headlights. He drove casually forward.

Within a few minutes, Will brought the car to a halt. He was on Pavla Loncara, and approximately one hundred meters ahead of him he could just see the house containing the Iranian hit team. Turning off his lights, he waited, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. All around him this residential street was still, dark, and quiet. The BMW’s performance engine idled silently.

He stayed like this for thirty minutes, observing the house. He placed a hand on the assault rifle and decided that now was the time to walk into the house and kill its contents. He was about to open the car door when he suddenly froze.

Two upstairs lights came on almost simultaneously in the house. Will frowned. He reached down to the car’s automatic gearshift and waited. Within twenty seconds the front door opened and a man ran out to a vehicle parked directly by the building. The man opened the driver’s-side door and then all other doors. Will knew that their car’s engine would now be running. Something must have unsettled them at this early hour. He concluded that the team had contingency plans in place in case they did not hear from the six men who’d followed him into Austria. He decided that the men leaving the house were extremely professional and extremely dangerous.

After five seconds another man ran out and took position by the front passenger door. He looked around the street and held one hand close to his body, then nodded toward the entrance of the house, whereupon two other men emerged from its door. One of them walked around the back of the car to the other passenger door. Once the other man had entered the car, it moved forward quickly.

Will shifted into drive option and followed them without headlights and at an even distance of 150 meters. As their car turned right onto Marsala Tita and out of sight, Will switched on his headlights. He paused at the Marsala Tita junction and allowed another random vehicle to cross in front of him, then turned onto the road and followed his target from behind the secondary vehicle. Within moments the secondary vehicle turned left onto Pere Devcc a and disappeared to wherever it was going. Will looked ahead, frowning. His target vehicle’s taillights were rapidly moving away from him. The car sped onward to the Sava River and its parallel-running road, Aleja Bologne.