Echo of War by Grant Blackwood

Author:Grant Blackwood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION/Thrillers
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2014-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

The Sorgia, off the coast of northern Spain

Tanner came back to consciousness, his brain slowly piecing together the sounds and smells and sensations around him. Bits of memory flashed across a screen in his mind: boarding the freighter … Litzman coming aboard … a crate … hiding in his alcove … the glare of a flashlight in his eyes … a rifle butt rushing out of the darkness toward his face.

He could hear the lapping of the waves against the hull, could feel the deck rocking beneath him. His forehead throbbed and his eyelids felt caked in … what? Blood, he decided; his own blood. His wrists were bound by rope.

“Er ist wach,” he heard. He’s awake.

Briggs felt the tip of a boot nudge his shoulder, followed a moment later by a sharp kick to his ribs. He groaned and forced open his eyes.

Standing above him in a semicircle were six men.

“Wer Sie sind?” Litzman said. Who are you?

Tanner squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again. No German, Briggs. Don’t give them anything. “What?” he rasped. “I don’t understand.”

“Wer Sie sind?”

Tanner shook his head. “I don’t … Nein ... nein Deutsch.”

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

There wasn’t much he could say. At least one of these men was from the group at the Black Boar, so while Litzman probably didn’t know who Briggs was, it would be obvious—at least superficially—why he was here. Briggs decided to gamble. There was little chance his story would hold water, but at the very least he could draw suspicion away from Susanna.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Tanner replied.

“What’s your name?”

“Bakken—Sam Bakken”

Litzman glanced at Cast—Tanner’s name for the one from the Black Boar—who shrugged. “Why are you looking for me?”

“I want to hire you—we want to hire you.”

“Who’s we?”

“We’re a group in Oregon. We heard you did a job for the ETA … drugs. We want you to do the same thing for us.”

Litzman grinned, but there was none of it in his eyes. They were dead, emotionless. “What kind of group?”

“A militia.”

“And you want drugs so you can sell them for guns?”

“That’s right.”

Litzman knelt at Tanner’s feet and studied his face. “Stand up,” he said, then extended his hand. Tanner took it. Litzman jerked him to his feet as though he were a rag doll and pushed him backward onto a nearby stool.

Briggs looked around. He was on the Sorgia’s bridge. Gray moonlight streamed through the windows. In the far corner, above a chart table, glowed a red lamp. Three men—members of the freighter’s crew judging by their clothes—stood near the bridge wing hatch watched nervously. Susanna stood beside the helm console. Her face was neutral, but Briggs could see the glimmer of fear in her eyes.

He forced himself to look away. Not a word, Susanna. Regardless of what happened here, if he could keep her alive, Bear would find her.

Using his index finger Litzman reached out and tipped Tanner’s head to the side, studying the cut on his cheekbone. He turned to Cast and said, “Ist dies das eine?” Is this the one?

Cast nodded.

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