knew first-hand just how merciless the former officer and his subordinates could be.
To reach the hotel, he knew that his team would have to be just as ruthless. If they were caught, they would be killed. Their only chance of success – the only way to rescue both Nina and his father, and put an end to the Group’s plans – was to take out the mercenaries first.
He checked his weapon: a white-painted Heckler & Koch MP7 Personal Defence Weapon – an extremely compact sub-machine gun – equipped with suppressor and red-dot sight. The other men were similarly equipped, with a single exception. One man also carried a skeletal Steyr SSG 08 sniper rifle, with a thermal scope and a hefty silencer.
‘How good are you with that?’ Eddie asked its owner, a German named Amsel.
‘I have the Schützenschnur in Gold,’ Amsel replied proudly.
‘Yeah, that’s pretty good.’ It was the German army’s marksmanship award; Glas seemed to have picked his men well. ‘Okay, you set up here, and I’ll spot.’
Amsel was comfortable enough in his skills to not even bother removing his skis as he lay at the crest of the ridge and prepared his rifle. Eddie scanned the slope with the thermal imager once more. The four men on the outer perimeter were still in position, all but one stationary in whatever shelter they could find. The fourth was traipsing across the base of the ski run, heading for the lift. The Englishman frowned. They only had one gun capable of hitting a target from this distance – if Amsel took out one guard and the other saw his comrade fall, he might raise the alarm before the German could take his second shot . . .
‘You’ve got to be fast,’ he said, watching intently as the glowing figure closed the gap to his companion. The two guards were only fifty metres apart, easily able to see each other even through the snow. ‘The guy walking across – get him first, then the one by the ski lift. Quick!’
Amsel nodded, adjusting his grip on the Steyr as he brought his eye to the scope and hunted for his first target. ‘Come on, come on . . .’ Eddie muttered. The guard was still closing on the man by the lift – who had turned to watch his approach, raising a hand in nonchalant greeting. Any closer, and it would be instantly obvious that the walker had been shot—
A deep, flat whoomph came from the Steyr’s suppressor as it muffled the sound of the shot, Amsel jerking backwards with the recoil. The sniper was using subsonic ammunition to minimise noise, but the bullet’s relatively low speed meant it would take over two seconds to reach its target. Eddie watched the shimmering shape in the thermal imager, hoping that Amsel was as good as he boasted . . .
The man suddenly staggered, what looked like a white halo flaring around his head – a spray of hot blood. Eddie immediately panned across to the ski lift. The man there was reacting with surprise, a puff of warm breath leaving his mouth as he called out to his companion. He had seen him fall, but through the blowing snow didn’t yet know why.
He would soon realise that this was more than a simple stumble, though. Eddie heard Amsel shift position as he found his next target, but kept his electronically enhanced gaze fixed on the ski lift. The man called out again, the glow of his breath brighter, more forceful.
The rifle thumped a second time. Eddie kept watching, tension rising. The guard fumbled for something on his chest.
A radio.
He raised it to his mouth—
Another halo. The guard slumped into the snow, a hot white pool slowly forming round his head.
‘Good shot,’ said Eddie. But he had no time to offer more than cursory praise, already moving his sight back across the slope to find the remaining sentries. ‘Next one’s by the little clump of trees off to the right, then the last one’s near that hut with the sign on top.’
Amsel confirmed that he had spotted them. Two more silenced shots, and the perimeter was clear. Eddie stood and put on his own skis. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘let’s piste off.’
The nine men began their rapid descent towards the hotel.
Warden brought Nina to a set of wooden doors. A sign beside them read Alpin Gesellschaftsraum: the Alpine Lounge. ‘Here we are,’ he told her.
He pushed open the doors theatrically and stepped through. Nina