talking in the kitchen. One adult male, one adult female. The child is there too. The woman just told her to sit at the table. They're about to eat dinner.'
'Good. We'll wait till they're sitting down, then we'll move in.' He turned to Petra. 'We want the minimum of fuss, so we'll go in when they're occupied with their food.'
She nodded agreement. 'The last thing we want is a hostage situation.'
'Quite,' he said briskly, the fingers of one hand beating a tattoo against his thigh. 'God, I hate the waiting game.'
They stood in tense silence for a long couple of minutes, then the comms specialist gave the thumbs-up sign. 'The woman's dishing up dinner... She's sitting down and joining them. Yes, they're all there.'
The commander grabbed his radio. 'This is K-one to all units. Move in. Repeat, move in.' He gestured to Petra to follow hmi and they jogged the twenty yards to the farm gate. Moving shadows flickered around the house, caught in the soft light from curtained windows. Suddenly the night was split open by the crash of the ram against the solid wooden door, and cries of, 'Armed police, freeze!' filled the air.
The crunch of splintering wood reached them on the fault night breeze, then the soft crump of smoke grenades and the rattle of gas canisters against a hard surface. Muffled shouts followed, then the sound that Petra had dreaded. The boom of a single gunshot rang out. Horrified, she turned to the commander.
'Shotgun,' he said laconically.
There followed the sudden chatter of automatic fire. Then silence. 'What's going on?' Petra cried.
'I'd guess the farmer got a shot off before one of ours took him down. Don't worry, it's not turning into a fire fight.' His radio crackled and he raised it to his ear. Petra couldn't distinguish the words, only an excited jabber. Til be right there,' he said. He clapped her on the shoulder. 'Come on, it's all over. They've got the girl.'
She followed him up the track. Tendrils of smoke drifted out of the open door, which sagged from a single hinge. As they reached the farmhouse, one of the Special Ops men walked out with a wailing child in his arms. Petra ran up and took his burden from him. 'It's all right, Tanja,' she said, stroking the girl's lank, unwashed hair. 'I'm taking you back to your mum.'
The commander was nowhere in sight. 'What happened?' Petra asked the officer who had brought Tanja out.
'Stupid bastard went for his shotgun,' he said. 'We've got one guy with flesh wounds to the arm and thigh. Nothing serious, I don't think.'
'What about Matic?' she asked, rocking the whimpering Tanja in her arms.
The officer made the traditional throat-cutting gesture. 'We had no choice. It's a bugger, though. The come-back we get from something like this, you'd think we went around shooting people for the hell of it.'
'You don't have any option when somebody's pointing a gun at you,' Petra agreed. 'Look, I want to get Tanja out of here. Will you tell your boss I've gone? We'll need to have a proper debrief, but that can wait for morning.'
He nodded. Til pass it on.'
Petra walked away from the farm, wishing her car was parked closer. Tanja was growing heavier with every step, and she didn't know if she could carry her all the way. What a day, she thought, plodding onwards. She wondered momentarily how Carol was coping. She presumed there would be a report of yesterday's meeting with Radecki waiting in her mailbox, but there was no way she was going to get to that for the next couple of hours. She had to get Tanja off to the safe house and make sure all the security was in place. Tomorrow, she would organize the first of a series of interviews with Marlene that she hoped would give them enough to make sure Radecki stood trial in Germany, not in liberal Holland.
There was so much to be done. But it would all be worth it when she sat in court and watched Radecki go down for a very long time. She grinned in spite of her aching back. God, she loved this job.
Carol was finally managing to enjoy herself. Marijke had kept her posted about everyone else's activities, and she'd been frustrated at her inability to lend a hand. But there was no point in fretting, she scolded herself. So she'd taken a long luxurious bath, which had left her feeling more relaxed than she