Blood Summit by Robert Pimm

Author:Robert Pimm [Pimm, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Dieter Kremp was sprinting back towards the security barrier under the Dorotheenstrasse when he heard the blast.

‘Main tunnel under attack! Get down!’ The words inside his helmet were so clear, Dieter flinched. He recognised the voice at once as one of the SSU team guarding the Reichstag end of the main tunnel.

‘Close the doors!’ That was Johann Frost. ‘Close the – ‘

Shots rang out. Johann’s voice fell silent.

Dieter ran up to the barrier and placed his eye to the retina scanner. The door slid open to reveal two of the SSU team assigned to the perimeter of the Safety Zone. Each had a Heckler & Koch trained on him.

‘Lower those weapons!’ Dieter did not move until he was sure they had recognised him.

‘There’s been a small explosion in the primary tunnel,’ one fighter said. She seemed calm. ‘Could be a diversion. All monitors are still off. We are maintaining perimeter security.’

‘Good work.’ Dieter felt a spike of confidence. He activated his microphone. ‘All SSU personnel remain at post. Prevent access to the Safety Zone until further notice. I am investigating the explosion.’

He left the barrier and ran through the basement of the deserted Jakob-Kaiser House North, beneath the suspended rowing boats. A bomb in the Safety Zone? It was impossible. The SSU had swept the summit venue repeatedly with electronic chemical profiling equipment, backed up with old-fashioned sniffer dogs. Peter Sturm had completed a final sweep this morning, after the security tour had been broken off. Could a delegate have smuggled something in? But the alarms at the entrance to the Safety Zone could detect even the tiniest quantity of explosive. Main tunnel under attack. What had the American journalist said about a suicide assault? But that was impossible too. Any attackers would have had to penetrate the Safety Zone to reach the tunnel. There was no sign that the perimeter had been breached.

The entrance to the tunnel was ahead of him now, a sharp turn to the left. The floor was littered with debris, including a large pink and black work of art shredded by the blast. His back to the wall, Dieter edged towards the corner where the tunnel opened into the basement, cocked his pistol, and listened.

Nothing.

He could see into the first few metres of the passage. The acoustics seemed wrong. Had something been destroyed in the blast? The explosion had taken out the lights, leaving the tunnel entrance a gloomy cavern with a smear of smoke across the ceiling. The bomb must have gone off around the corner. Where the Bundespolizei guards had been stationed.

In the year leading up to the Children’s Summit, Johann Frost had often invited Dieter Kremp to sit down with him and try to enter the minds of the terrorists who opposed them.

‘Put yourself inside their heads,’ Johann would say. ‘Imagine you are trying to murder the G8 leaders. Assume you know everything about our security regime. How would you do it?’

‘But terrorists are fanatics,’ Dieter had said. They do not think the way we do.

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