Silent Night - By Tom Barber Page 0,102

across at the South African doctor.

The expression he’d worn all day on his beaten-up face had changed.

All trace of his friendliness was gone.

It had been replaced with a menacing stare.

‘You son of a bitch,’ Archer said.

‘It’s a miracle we even made it here,’ Kruger said. ‘I’ve been watching all of you run around like morons all night.’

‘You’re a part of this?’

‘Of course. I set it up. Do you know how much this virus is worth?’

He jabbed a finger at Rourke, up front in the cockpit with Drexler.

‘I needed someone to package and transport it. Figured I might as well hitch a ride. Luckily you made the connection with the farm after I fed you the pesticide idea. You were quick, I’ll give you that.’

Archer glanced at Rourke. ‘How the hell do you know him?’

Kruger grinned.

He undid the buttons on his shirt and pulled it open.

Archer saw a thick black Swastika tattooed on one pectoral.

On the other was an SS.

Stuttgart Soldiers.

‘Surprised?’ Kruger said with a grin.

Kyle Gunnar’s voice echoed in Archer’s mind, a missed warning from earlier in the day.

You’d be surprised who some of our members are.

Suddenly, all the missing pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place.

‘You were the one who told Bleeker about the virus?’

Kruger nodded.

‘He introduced me to them,’ he said, jabbing a thumb at the cockpit. ‘At a rally two weeks ago. We had a plan, but then Bleeker got greedy and double-crossed us. Kidnapped me and stole the vials. He wanted it all for himself. I think he was going to kill me at the house just before you and your friends showed up.’

Archer thought back. It all started making sense. In the dark plane, he saw the South African grin.

‘You piece of shit. You planted the cell phone at Tibbs’ apartment.’

‘Very good. Pay-as-you-go, so no connection to me. All I had to do was clean off my prints, visit Will on Thursday night then drop it on his floor before I left. He must have found it, stowed it in the drawer and framed himself.’

Kruger pointed his pistol at Maddy.

‘Anyway, be thankful you got an extra few hours. You both should have died at the lab.’

Archer didn’t respond. He was thinking back through the day, cursing himself at what an idiot he’d been.

‘When Gunnar walked past at the Bureau this afternoon, you ducked down. Put your head in your hands like you were upset. But you were covering up. You knew he’d recognise you and wouldn’t be able to hide it.’

‘Very good. But what a shame. You’re too late. You’re going to die. And what a tragedy about your friend at the lab. His coffin will be the size of a tinder box.’

Archer spat blood from his mouth again, glaring at the neo-Nazi doctor.

‘Easy now,’ Kruger said. ‘At any moment, I can open that door and throw you out. I could do it right now.’

The two men stared at each other. Then Kruger checked his watch. Archer glanced to his left and saw Maddy still slumped on the floor. She was out cold. Blood had slid down her face from the wound from the blow to the back of her head.

Kruger suddenly whistled at the cockpit. Rourke heard him and turned. Kruger beckoned for him to come down, so Rourke left his seat and walked down into the cabin.

‘How are we doing?’

‘We’re on course.’ Rourke glanced at Archer. ‘You want to get rid of him now?’

Kruger didn’t reply.

He raised his pistol instead, aiming at the centre of Rourke’s torso, and started firing.

Rourke took six rounds. Each impact jerked him back and he collapsed in a torn, bloody dead heap across the cabin. The bullets ruptured holes in the cabin and air started to whistle in. Archer saw Drexler turn, looking at Rourke’s corpse, her eyes wide with shock. But before she could react, Kruger was up on his feet, the pistol trained on her.

‘Don’t move, bitch,’ he said, moving down towards her in the cockpit. ‘I’ll take that weapon.’

Archer saw Drexler stay motionless behind the control stick. Then she reached inside her jacket and passed over what looked like a silenced Glock. Kruger took it, and tossed it into the cabin behind him, the pistol landing near Rourke’s corpse.

He started ordering Drexler to do something, the gun to her head, but Archer couldn’t hear what it was from the whistling coming through the bullet holes in the plane.

Archer saw her nodding and he felt the plane start veering to the left.

Rourke was slumped