Cover

Dedication

 

 

 

"We're all stories in the end - just make it a good one!"

Doctor Who

 

 

I would like to dedicate this book to several personalities, because they were and still are a great inspiration in my world of thriller:

 

David Tennant, Peter Capaldi, Peter Davison, Tom Wlaschiha and the BBC (for all the great characters and stories).

 

And in addition to my sister Sabine.

1. 1997 The first hearing of David Connelly

“Order! I will have order!” The slightly nasal voice of the court clerk sounded through the hearing room, and all those present abruptly stopped talking. The little man with the bald patch and the round glasses on the broad bridge of his nose continued, "Today, 16 August 1997, the "Council for the Establishment of the European Police Office" is meeting."

There was awe-stricken silence. Even the most attentive listener did not hear the slightest clearing of the throat or coughing or even the rustling of a sheet of paper, when the directors of ‘Europol’ entered the hearing room and took their seats on the podium.

Richard Stanton watched the parade from his front row seat. Worried, he frowned. The deputy director nervously ran both his hands through his already grayed hair. He could not remember the last time all the gentlemen had appeared for a hearing. Not for a very long time, he was sure of that.

The secretary waited until they had sat down before naming the committee's reason, "This is the official complaint of the newspaper editor Frank Benninger investigated. The investigation focuses on the incident that occurred on the night of 28 June. That night, Interpol agent David Connelly, a former lieutenant in the British Army, entered Mr Benninger's house. Taking the chair is the honourable Director Harry Fisher." He looked up to the first chairman, who gave him a short nod. “First of all, we will hear the honourable Deputy Director Richard Stanton, Head of the Europol Office Berlin.”

“David, you don’t need to worry, it’s a mere formality.” Those had been Richard's words, which he had sent on the way with David before the trial. Now he could imagine that exactly this sentence was crossing his agent's mind when the young man saw the completeness of the tribunal.

So David stared at him angrily, because he thought about another statement of his boss full of irony, “As if! It’s just a harmless hearing without consequences! The big bosses, and this is all of them, wouldn’t have bothered to come for a mere formality. There’s something big going on. No, of course, I don’t need to worry about anything, not at all. Bah.” But actually he was worried about his professional future, which was at stake.

Richard saw David's troubled look as he stood up to take the stand. He briefly turned his head and smiled at the dark-haired man. Since there was no dock in this trial, the disgraced agent had taken seat at the front of the audience area. David sat there next to his very tense colleague Tom Bauer, who was summoned as a witness.

Stanton’s thinning hair showed that the almost fifty-year-old man was getting a bit long in the tooth. But the bounce in his step was that of a young man.

He would not have been not at all happy about the last thought David sent him. “Yes, it’s all very well for you to laugh.” With a rather strained expression on his face the young agent looked after his last hope.

David’s military career as a sniper of the British army had always been impeccable. Not a single disciplinary case was recorded in his file. That made it all the more perplexing for David's superior that the best man he ever had under his command had to appear before the high tribunal of the European Council in his rather new function as an Interpol agent and take a stand on his decisions. But for now the deputy director spoke for him. Richard could not know how glad the young man was to know him on his side. Even though his tense mood did not allow any feelings of gratitude at the moment. After their testimonies the select committee would decide on his career at Interpol.

“If there will still be a career, then.” His boss would not have liked at all his bitter thoughts that he just could not suppress.

Richard had not missed the irony of the situation. It was the very man they owed this hearing to that they also owed the relocation of the agent, who had become his best man, from London to Berlin. Frank Benninger was a big player in organized crime. At the age of thirty-six, he was already one of the most powerful men in the country. Drugs, guns, girl trafficking, and all this throughout the world were but a few areas of crime where he had his dirty fingers in the pie.

To help them fight crime in Europe the young agent had been sent by order of Interpol to the newly created institution of Europol. That was why no longer Interpol, but upon entering into office in Berlin, Europol was responsible for his hearings... and for his future destiny.

There, again, he was far too pessimistic. David tried to hide his thoughts from his boss. “Think positive, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Richard saw David's face relax. Nevertheless, he knew his agent's thoughts were, like his own, with Iris. "Where are you?" He could almost hear these desperate words in David's mind. He reminisced what he had learned about David and the missing agent over the past year since the two outstanding agents were under his command.

 

David had met his future partner, Iris Ganser, during his training at Interpol, which had not been too much of a challenge for both of them. Already at a very young age he had established his reputation as an excellent sniper. For this reason the former lieutenant was still called in today for crucial missions. Although he had resigned his service, he still had to be on call at all times as a reservist. That was the deal for his early resignation from Her Majesty's army. And Iris had been a policewoman in London before her life with Interpol, she was also tough.

 

Until his last official deployment as a sniper, David had executed the commands of his respective superiors without exception and without hesitation. But the order of his then-commander had seemed completely pointless to him. His fellow soldiers had fallen one after the other in a deployment that could have been prevented. After the still very young, but already then rather talented sniper had been able to save at least a few of the soldiers, he quit service and signed up at Interpol. He swore to himself he would never again accept a command without querying it.

And this resulted in the first of four hearings during his career that not always would run smoothly. Not always should the accusations be as harmless as those of the committee on this day in August 1997. Yet Agent Connelly would have a great advantage in the years to come, always finding an influential advocate in his superior Richard Stanton. But here and now it was decided on his future career at Interpol and Europol, which had entered into cooperation in the Benninger case, for the first time.

The recording secretary rose to speak again and thus interrupted Richard’s thoughts abruptly. The little man asked Stanton a question, “Is it correct that Agent Connelly has entered the house of the civilian Frank Benninger on the night of June 27th by force, and almost frightened to death the Reinolds, Benninger’s housekeeper and her husband?”

“That's right.” Soberly, Richard answered the question. But his almost mischievous gaze wandered over to his agent, as if he knew that the latter was having trouble controlling himself.

Maybe he even read his mind, “This sounds really great. Just don’t say one word too much, boss.” At the moment, his irony was all David could resort to that kept him from jumping up and taking the floor in order to represent himself.

“Please describe the facts that have led to this moment.”

“First of all, I’d like to tell the High Tribunal that David Connelly is beyond any doubt. I have never met such an upright and honest man.” To hear such words from the mouth of the most honored deputy director of Europol was a great distinction. After all, Richard Stanton set high moral standards for himself and his fellow human beings. He was well-known for this, and for this he was cherished and admired by his colleagues and superiors. But he had not always been like that.

In the 1970s when he had been a young man in his mid-twenties with full, dark-blonde hair, he had been rather a daredevil and womanizer. With his charm and his blue eyes, he had made every woman’s heart beat faster when he looked deep into their eyes. Much to the chagrin of his many years older brother, Richard had only nonsense in his head and showed little interest in his veterinary studies.

Tristan Stanton, who was ten-years his senior had after their father’s early death inherited the veterinary practice in the countryside of Cumbria in the North of England. So it was beyond question for the thirty-five-year-old that Richard would study veterinary medicine, which he actually did from 1970 to 1973 at the University of Cumbria in Carlisle. But he could not be tamed and his only interest was the study of the female sex. It was clear to him early on that he would never want to stay forever in this desolate spot. Though he loved the Yorkshire Dales and the rocky open country, the region had absolutely nothing to offer such a lively young man. But when he drove home from Carlisle in his car, he enjoyed the barren landscape of ferns, hard grasses, and heather. Still near the valley, he drove past meadowland, but the higher he came it was more and more replaced by moorland. Shortly before he would reach his childhood home, he always stopped at a viewing platform, from which he had a spectacular view over the plots of lands enclosed by dry-stone walls. There he would close his eyes and take a deep breath. In these moments he did not want to be anywhere else. He then completely calmed down and enjoyed the peaceful moments. But this did never last long, for as soon as he had returned to his studies, his restless vein would take over again. Strangely enough, a single woman put an end to his restless life and led him back to the right path.

When he first saw Isabel Cole twenty-five years ago, she changed his whole life. If he had not bumped into Angie, her black shepherd dog, his life would have been so much different. It did not take two weeks until the female puppy was fit again and it also did not take two weeks until the two young people had hopelessly fallen in love with each other. Richard found the jobs the young art student did for Scotland Yard exciting. When she told him about the details of her cases where her expertise was needed to convict art forgers and art thieves, he was immediately on fire. After the time with her, he did not just want to let her go, and she did not want to leave him. So he decided to move to London with her. Isabel Cole was thus the reason he replaced veterinary medicine with Scotland Yard. From then on he studied criminalistics at London University. After graduating in 1978, the couple got married. A year later he became one of the first profilers of England at Scotland Yard.

2.

Nineteen years later, this man, who by now had been married to a wonderful woman for almost twenty-five years, and who possessed a vast knowledge of human nature through his experience as a profiler, shared with the committee what had happened, “In my opinion, honourable Lords of the Committee, and this I would like to state clearly, Agent David Connelly no other choice but to act the way he did. I would like to tell you the story of this extraordinary man: For that I need to go into greater detail." Richard paused to take a deep breath. The audience stopped making noises.

Everyone listened to him with anticipation as he continued, “The first time he got aware of Frank Benninger was when we had to deal with arms smuggling. During his whole time in the army, where he served as a sniper, Agent Connelly was involved with the effects of this area of ​​organized crime. He fought against rebels and terrorists, some of whom were better equipped than he himself. Imagine how frustrating this was for one of the best snipers in Great Britain! Then one day, he and his troop could prevent a secret transfer of weapons in the desert - the exact place is top secret and not even known to me. David and his comrades recovered a whole load of high-tech weapons. During this operation they found out the name of one of the largest arms smuggler in Europe, Frank Benninger. Like a spider in its net, he resided in Berlin and pulled at the strings of corruption. Agent Connelly made it his business to hunt him down. But this turned out to be difficult, because none of Benninger’s people was willing to testify against him. It was a big shock for David that the army was so powerless. He wanted to achieve something, so he left the military service.”

“One moment, please.” Harry Fisher interrupted Richard at this point. He looked at his papers. “Here it says that he resigned after a failed mission.” The doubtful voice indicated that chairman Fisher suggested David had been dishonourably discharged.

Richard emphasized, “For this mission, he was awarded the ‘Conspicuous Gallantry Cross’. I’d like to call to mind that it is awarded ‘in recognition of one or more acts of outstanding bravery during a combat mission’. It was awarded to this man, who today sits over there as a defendant..." he nodded reproachfully in David's direction, "because he saved the lives of several soldiers. This was already the second time that he was awarded the cross. I can't go into any detail about this operation..."

"Let me guess: Because it is classified as top secret."

"Exactly, that’s the case."

The eyes of all those present were resting on David, who felt uncomfortable to be in the limelight. Richard knew his subordinate well enough by now to know that it was very embarrassing for him to occupy centre stage.

“May I continue, Mr. Chairman?”

The addressed did not raise any more objections and only nodded in agreement. The deputy director highly decorated himself decided to elaborate the strictly confidential facts about the mission mentioned by Fisher, without going into too much detail, “Agent Connelly was requested as a specialist for this mission. And although it was up to him to perform the attack, his superior did not listen to his warning. The terrorist camp, which they were to attack, was too well prepared for their attack, and David had recognized this. His commander sent the men into action, with twenty-four well-trained men being killed. The number of victims would have been even greater if it hadn’t been for Agent Connelly.”

“Now he talks a bit too much.”

“In 1995, after the incident, Agent Connelly accepted a job at Interpol. During his training, he met Iris Ganser, who was the reason for the raid on the appellant’s house. The two agents became a good team and close friends. At some point during their training in England David told her about Benninger. Because her brother had been killed in a mission in the Middle East against well-equipped rebels who had obtained their supplies of weapons from Germany she shared his hatred for the criminal organisations and the big bosses behind them. When Interpol set agents on Benninger, they asked to be transferred to Germany in 1996. And so they were put under my command. I gave them the Benninger case they had asked for.”

Richard's gaze became sad because he had lost an agent under his command. "Where are you, Iris?"

The grieved man let the audience in the hall participate, as best as he could, in what happened almost a month and a half ago.

3.

At 5,4' Iris was not tall, and with her light brown hair and beautiful blue eyes she did not look like a tough agent at all. During her training at Interpol, and even before that as a policewoman, she often had had difficulties asserting herself. So she trained obsessively to become harder than her colleagues. The fact that she did not look a y older than eighteen did not make things any easier for her. When her youthful appearance finally became an advantage in her investigations, she mistakenly felt it was a stroke of luck, yet it was to become her fate.

Since there was a big file at Interpol about Benninger, they knew of his preference for small petite women. His trainees without exception looked young and innocent. Only with their good looks could they arouse his interest in the first place, so that he hired them. Iris fit exactly in, she was very pretty and the type of woman Benninger liked. So Interpol planted her in his newspaper, the ‘Berlin Nachrichtenkurier’. Her resume and passports were forged, suddenly she was twenty again. Her camouflage was that of a British exchange student who studied journalism and wanted to spend a year in Germany to gain experience on the international market. Of course, the paper was happy to take her in, as they wanted to support and strengthen relations abroad.

To set up a base for the Benninger investigation Interpol asked the European police authority based in The Hague for their permission to send agents to Germany. This was the official path, as they were not allowed to carry out cross-border research in other countries. In this case, a data exchange with the local colleagues would actually have been the right approach, but they were not allowed to simply cross the borders of the respective countries themselves. Yet in recent years build-up measures for a new institution in Europe had been adopted. ‘Europol’ was launched as the last resort against European organized crime, and an office was set up in Berlin at that time. But since in 1996 they still were not fully established in Germany and did not yet have a lot of staff, Europol welcomed the help of the foreign agents. They assured them of their one hundred percent support. The two were allowed to enter Germany and were granted the status of consultants, who thus could investigate on the spot. Thus they were among the first liaison officers that were sent to Berlin by the other national institutions in the course of the following years.

David investigated and collected all and everything about Benninger he could lay his hands on and Europol, too, had already blacklisted him and had an impressive record of him. Though David could unearth many facts about him since Benninger had a finger in every pie, David had no concrete evidence, on which he would be able to nail him down. Here and there they succeeded in blowing up the cover of some of his ‘business partners,’ but never could they prove a connection between them and Benninger. They would not say a word for fear of the tentacles of the Mafia kraken.

Iris’ mission was now to provide the necessary evidence. As a trainee she could watch him directly from the lion’s den, and soon he got aware of the beautiful young woman. His current trainee was quickly forgotten, and he focused on Iris. But he was not stupid. And for that reason he had her checked and supervised by his connections, and thus he blew her cover. So Interpol had him on their blacklist, he had to be careful. Without Iris noticing it, he began to play a perfidious game with her. He used all his charm to woo her: he conversed with her in her mother tongue, invited her to lunch, and worked with her on her articles. He taught her a lot, because no matter what he else he was, Frank Benninger was an excellent journalist. More and more she enjoyed his presence. He knew how to conceal his criminal machinations, and she found no evidence against him.

On the evening of June 26, 1997, Iris left the publishing house of the Berlin News after work and got into David’s car, which was as always parked inconspicuous in a side street in the vicinity of the building. They had agreed to speak German with each other, even when they were alone, to fully immerse themselves in this difficult language.

The young agent said in her distinct British accent, but without any slips in her grammar, “David, do you always have to wear these suits, even now, when no one sees you?” She gave him a look from her blue eyes and shook her head. “And how do you manage to be so smoothly trimmed the whole day long? And your frizzy hair looks always perfect. Incredible.”

His brown eyes looked at her uncomprehendingly and he raised his left eyebrow questioningly. His Scottish accent was not to be missed, “What? I’m at work after all and this is my normal work wear. What would you prefer, an unkempt look?”

“No, but a pair of jeans and a T-shirt would be perfectly fine with this heat. Besides, a tight T-shirt would emphasise your muscles beautifully.” At first sight, David was rather thin, but on closer inspection, his well-tuned body consisted of wiry and hard muscles.

Iris tousled his beautiful brown hair. “And a little mess once in a while won’t hurt you.” She loved to tease him, because he then always looked like a little boy who had not the slightest idea what people wanted from him. Horrified, he turned the rear-view mirror round to him trying to rearrange his hair, but without a comb it was a futile venture.

Suddenly she became serious. “David, I don’t think we’re on the right track here. He seems clean I can’t find anything suspicious. And I’ve been around there for almost a year.”

He too became very serious now. Angrily, he banged away at the steering wheel with both hands, then jumped out of the car and walked up and down. She also got out of the car and stood in his way. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her looking worried liked a big brother. With 6 feet he towered more than half an inch over the petite woman, so she had to put her head back to look into his eyes.

“Don’t you talk like that just have a look at what we’ve already found out. It's just a matter of time before we’ll grab him. You mustn’t doubt... And above all, don’t get careless.” He spoke the last words with emphasis.

“I’ll give it a last go tomorrow. After work, I’ll break in his office to ransack it for any shred of proof. But you know that my traineeship will be over soon, and I won’t get another chance, then Frank Benninger will be history. Unless we can think of something else.”

She walked away and left him behind with a queasy feeling. Furiously, he hit the hood of his car with the flat of his hand. Benninger was a business man, and the newspaper was more of a hobby than serious work for him. He did not make the big money with it, but that was not a crime. If they could not soon provide evidence for his criminal activities, Interpol would withdraw them.

4.

Next day the open-plan office of the Berlin News was busy with reporters sitting at their desks and hammering away at the keyboards of their computers. Iris went to the office with the doorplate ‘Walter Petersen, chief editor’. The door, as usual, stood wide open. She knocked at the open door and peered hesitantly around the corner. Petersen, an almost bald-headed man with round glasses on his nose, sat at a large desk. He raised his head and looked questioningly at Iris with his pale blue, lively, and friendly eyes.

“Mr. Petersen? May I have a word with you?”

“You already have, Iris.” This was his usual half-joking answer to this question.

“I wanted to ask if I could stay longer tonight, probably till around 8:30 p.m. I still have to do some research for an article. Would this be a problem for you?”

“No, not a problem at all. Mr. Rice will lock up behind you, please let him know when you leave.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Walter gave her a friendly smile, and then turned back to his papers. Iris returned to her desk and continued working, though not very concentrated. When the working day drew to a close, the journalists left the office wishing a pleasant evening. When all had left, she looked around and strolled nonchalantly to the door with the doorplate ‘Frank Benninger, Chief Editor’. She pulled out her pencil case with the burglar's tool. Without difficulty she opened the lock with a pick lock and entered the snobbishly furnished office of her temporary boss. Through the huge panorama window the entrant’s gaze was automatically directed downwards over the rooftops of Berlin. The city illuminated by neon light was a great sight. For a moment the young woman let herself get distracted by the spectacular view then she looked carefully around. She picked up papers and put them back where they had been. She opened drawers, rummaged them, and closed them again. When she had finished, she sat in the executive arm chair slouching her shoulders. She had found absolutely nothing. Iris’ year as a trainee at the newspaper would soon be over she needed to intensify her contact with Frank. Of course she had noticed that he wanted more from her, so she would give in to his wooing. What she needed was a chance to look for evidence in his home.

Iris got out her mobile and dialed a number. „David? I‘m done in here and on my way out.”

She stood up, looked around again, and then left the office. After having locked the door with her pick lock she took the lift down. There she informed the night porter Mr. Reis that she had finished upstairs then she left the building.

 

David waited in his car in front of the publishing building. Iris sat beside him and said in a desperate voice. “Nothing, I haven’t found anything. I need to make eyes at Benninger so he takes me home with him and I can try to find something at his place. He’s been making overtures to me since long, maybe it’s time to respond to them.”

“Do you really want to go so far? In recent years, he always got involved with his trainees and dropped them shortly thereafter. In this respect you will have no trouble with him, pretty enough, you are, absolutely. But what if he has looked through you or catches you out while you search his home?”

“I’ll handle him.”

“Always remember, he’s dangerous. So don’t take it too lightly. It was not for nothing that Interpol has set us on him, and not for nothing has Europol got him on their blacklist and supported us.”

“But you’re my safeguard and will protect me.”

“We mustn’t stick our neck out. We don’t have the same competency as in the UK we’re just consultants in a country that hasn’t yet been involved in the game for very long.”

She put her hand on his arm he took it and held it.

She gave him a playful smile. “And what did you say before?”

“You need to be careful?”

“No, not that, silly. You really think I’m pretty?”

He relaxed a bit. “Of course that was purely objective. You’re actually much too pretty for this dangerous job, but I’ll take care of you, for what should I do without my partner in this strange country? I would be completely helpless, as you’re the one between us who understands the complex German mentality.” He raised an eyebrow and grinned at her.

“Exactly, always remember how much you need me, babes.” She laughed at him light-heartedly.

The two agents Ganser and Connelly now discussed the operation. He would not let her out of sight for a second, and follow her in his car when she went to see her boss.

When Iris was home in her flat, she called Benninger. “Hi Frank? This is Iris Ganser. I need your help with an article, can you spare a minute?... Oh, still today? That would be fantastic... Of course can I come to your flat. It’ll take me about forty minutes. See you. Thanks a lot.”

She called David. “We’re ready to go we'll meet at his house.”

She had considered carefully what she wanted to wear. Her tight jeans and top emphasized her slim figure, without being too sexy. She knew he preferred innocent women. Despite her long-standing experience as an agent she was excited. She had long since realized that she did not have her feelings under control. This man was simply too attractive, and she hoped she would not find any evidence against him tonight.

5.

When the young agent arrived in front of the tower block where he occupied the penthouse, Frank Benninger met her in front of the entrance and led her to his limousine. A small, brawny man in a black suit held the back door open for them. Cho, Frank's Asian chauffeur, was also employed as his bodyguard. He made a dangerous impression as he stood there completely emotionless. Iris recalled what she knew about him. He was absolutely devoted to Frank. Unwaveringly loyal to his boss, he did the dirty jobs for him.

 

Surprised, she looked at Frank’s slender figure in his elegant evening suit. He noticed her gaze and beamed at her with his gray eyes. “I still have an appointment to keep. A small charity event, it won’t take long. But, you’re somewhat underdressed. I was so free and sent my assistant to get something to wear for you. He will meet us there and you’ll have the possibility to change. Size 34, am I right?”

Completely taken by surprise, she could only nod. He opened the small bar of the limousine and poured two glasses from the already opened bottle of champagne. When they arrived at the event, she was already a little tipsy. They got out of the car and without them noticing, David’s silver sporty Mercedes A 200 stopped in a side street very close to them.

 

David also got out of his car and watched as Iris entered the building with Benninger. The ‘Fortuna’ was one of the highest buildings in the city. Why was this man so fascinated by high-rises? Just like his penthouse and his newspaper, the hotel towered into the sky. David knew all the high buildings in Berlin this one even had a helicopter landing field.

“What a show-off” he thought condescendingly, and raised his left eyebrow disapprovingly.

 

When Iris left the little room which the hotel had provided so that she could change her clothes, Frank gave a wolf whistle. He made a mental note to praise his assistant for his choice. The latter had shown an excellent taste, the red dress with the wide skirt fit her perfectly well. She did a pirouette like a cheery little girl laughing merrily. Frank had to pull himself together not to grab her immediately and drag her into a hotel room to take her there. But he had already shown such great patience that he still could wait a little longer.

“My lady, be my queen tonight.” He held out his arm to her, and like a lady, she slipped her arm through his.

When they entered the hall, Frank Benninger was given a rapturous welcome, the applause was deafening. He was led straight to the stage and Iris sat down at a table just in front of it. He delivered a rousing speech, not dry and very amusing.

“My dear guests... and dear sponsors, especially these are very welcome today! It’s about you tonight, more precisely your money, for I want it.”

There was laughter from the audience. The women wore pompous dresses and the gentlemen custom-made evening suits. Expensive jewelry flashed in the light of the crystal chandeliers, the guests were obviously well-off.

“You probably all know ‘Doctors Without Borders’. And what we have done with your support last year is impressive.”

Iris watched him closely and caught herself looking up to him admiringly. Her gaze was thoughtful and she did not hear much of the rest of his speech.

Her thoughts were concerned with her predicament, “He can’t be a criminal, we must be wrong... I haven’t fallen in love with my target person, have I?”

After his speech, Benninger came down from the platform and went straight over to her. She held her breath he was a real eye candy. His blond hair was a little too short for her taste, but his haircut emphasised his elegant appearance. He took her by the hand and drew her with him as he circulated introducing her to the guests present. The wealthy guests from the worlds of business and politics all pulled out their wallets and issued cheques for high sums, after all this event was a fundraising campaign for a good cause, which he had been supporting for years already. After an hour Frank did not want to stay any longer and led Iris to one of the lifts.

He addressed her in English, “I’m going to abduct you, my love.” He took her hand.

She laughed a little shy, “Would I like that? You’re a dangerous man, Benninger.”

“I’d like to show you how dangerous.”

They left the lift and stood on the roof. There they climbed into the waiting helicopter. Astounded, Iris saw Cho, Frank’s driver, already sitting on the pilot seat. The small airplane took off.

6.

David leaned against his car as he saw the helicopter fly away, and he had a sense of foreboding. “Shit.”

He ran into the hotel, seized a waiter by the arm and held his badge right in front of his nose. “Frank Benninger, where is he?” His English accent was now clearly to be heard.

The waiter replied nonchalantly, “He’s just left the hall, and took the lift up to the helicopter landing field on the roof together with his company. I think they just took off. What’s it about, can I help you…“

David did not give him a chance to finish his sentence, but sprinted to the lifts and pushed the button upwards to the roof.

In the lift he could not stand still, paced about and banged on the door. “Faster, you damn lame duck.”

The door opened and he fell onto the roof. At once he ran over to the landing place, but no one was there. “Shit, shit, shit,” he yelled into the night. And then, desperately, “How can you be so stupid and careless and leave with him alone?”

Impatiently he took the lift down to the event hall and seized the waiter again. “It’s you again, I told you he has flown away.”

“Do you know where he wanted to fly to?”

“No, of course not”

“Is there anybody who can tell me more about this? Your boss. Bring your boss to me. Now.”

The waiter rolled his eyes, but crossed the room and spoke to a person looking like the maître d’. Together with him he returned to David.

“Can I help you, Sir?”

David once again held out his badge. “Agent Connelly. I need to know the destination of the helicopter of Frank Benninger. Can you tell me?”

“I’m sorry. Mr. Benninger didn’t inform us about his plans. And now I have to go back to work. Good night.”

Arrogantly, he ditched David. The young agent would have loved to sock him. Yet he only turned around his fists clenched and began to question the other guests. No one could tell him anything and all he asked only answered with a shake of their heads. Desperately, he left the building and got out his mobile from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. With a jerk he pulled the antenna out. He dialed Iris number, but no connection could be established. “Shit,” he blurted again with fervour.

He called his boss at Europol. “Mr. Stanton, I need urgent support regarding today’s deployment. You’ve been informed that Ms. Ganser is on the road with Frank Benninger, and I’ve kept myself in the background to cover her. I’m standing in front of the Hotel Fortuna, and Benninger has shaken me off with a helicopter. I need air support can you organize something on the quick?”

The deep voice of his superior dashed every hope. “I don’t see any need for such a measure; there’s no urgent reason to suspect that he would do anything to Ms. Ganser. David, I’m sorry, but you could never prove anything against him, and here we must draw a line under it. Persecution in the air, that’s stretching it too far. I will never get permission for that.”

Dismayed, David pushed the power-off button, the connection was interrupted. He reproached himself. It had been his job to be prepared for everything. He should have thought of the helicopter too. Now Iris was without his support and he had a bad feeling about this.

 

The helicopter landed safely on a small airfield, and the passengers changed over to Frank’s private jet. Cho sat on the pilot’s seat. Frank and Iris took their seats in the cozy interior. An open bottle of champagne was waiting for them on the table securely fastened. They buckled on and Frank poured the champagne into two glasses then held out one glass to her.

She took it hesitantly, if she drank too much, she would lose control and that must not happen under any circumstances.

To cover her unease, she asked him, “Is there something Cho can’t do? From where do you get such a man?”

“Oh, I’ve hired him as a handyman. He was trained as a seal in the USA. The man is a weapon specialist and a trained pilot. Cho can fly just about anything that has wings.”

“And where does he fly this sweetie?”

“We’re off to Switzerland. I possess a modest cottage in the mountains. I hope you haven’t made plans for the weekend yet? Now is your last chance, if you don’t want to come along, only tell me.”

Iris laughed, “I don’t want to miss out on this for nothing in the world. I like to play with fire.”

7.

The jet landed in St. Moritz. They climbed into a limousine, which was already waiting for them on a small airfield. Cho signed a paper, which an employee of the airport held out to him and then climbed into the limousine on the driver’s side.

Iris asked, “What about my ID, doesn’t anyone want to see it?”

“This is a private airfield and Cho has settled everything for us. He‘s also a talent in organsing.”

When they arrived at their destination, he led her into the luxury house. “Welcome to my second home.”

Iris nodded ironically. “Yes... a truly modest cottage in the mountains.”

They went into the living room, and Iris stood in front of the huge panorama window. The house was built against a steep slope and she enjoyed the fantastic view of the mountains. It was a clear night and the light of the moon cast a bright glow on the peaks.

The pretty woman turned to Frank. “You’ve a soft spot for big windows, haven’t you?”

“Oh, you allude to the windows in my office. I'm a bit claustrophobic, so I need a wide view and I can afford it.” He winked at her mischievously.

“It's an awesome panorama, simply beautiful.” She beamed at him, and he smiled back.

“But now I need to freshen up, where’s the bathroom?”

“The first door to the right, there you’ll find everything you need.”

The agent in love went down the hall and opened the door to the bathroom. She rummaged her handbag for her mobile and looked at the display: No signal. “Shit.”

She freshened up, and then she looked again at the display, still no signal. Not particularly worried, she shrugged her shoulders and left the bathroom.

Frank had in the meantime opened another bottle of champagne, now he poured two glasses and handed her one, then they clinked glasses. “To a dangerous night.”

“Even more champagne? You’re trying to make me drunk?”

He took off his jacket and put on some romantic music. The attractive man dimmed the light so they had a stunning look at the stars. He stepped towards her took her hand and pulled the pretty woman into his arms full of verve. “I just want you to relax and feel good.”

They began to dance of course he was an excellent dancer, she had not expected anything else. Frank kissed her, and Iris kissed him back. She forgot all about her mission to look for evidence, she could do that in the morning. With his strong arms he lifted her up and gently carried her to the bed.

 

David was still standing in front of the ‘Hotel Fortuna’ not wanting to give up. Feverishly he thought then he searched the address list of his mobile and found the right number.

“Hi, is this Tom?” Then he listened for a short while. “Yes it’s me. I desperately need your help. Iris was so imprudent and has taken off with Benninger in a helicopter. They’ve left a few minutes ago... No, I don’t know where they fly. Maybe he’s kidnapped her. In any case, I can’t wait for her to call. Are you at your computer?... Of course, where else could you be? Could you please find out whether Frank Benninger has another house somewhere?... Yes, it’s got to be further away otherwise it hadn’t been worthwhile to take the helicopter. Thanks, and please call me back on this number. In the meantime I’m going to call in a favour.”

He rang off and had already dialed the next number. While listening to the dial tone, for a moment his eyes narrowed with concern. But at last he heard the voice of his old friend from his days in the army.

“John? It’s me, David. Hi, old chap.”

Although the voice came from across the pond, it was very clear and distinct. “David? I haven’t heard from you since ages. How are you?”

“Don’t be cross with me, but I have no time for chatting. I need your help.”

“Of course, why else should you call me at this time at night, if it’s not an emergency? What can I do for you?”

“You’re still in touch with your contacts in Germany at the BKA in Berlin, right? Can you organize a helicopter and send it to the roof of the Hotel Fortuna? It has a landing-field, I’ll be waiting for it there.”

“Oh, you want nothing more? Nothing but a helicopter? With a pilot, I guess?” John’s voice did not sound too enthusiastic.

Without responding to the ironic tone of his friend, David answered unmoved, "A short-range helicopter would do. Can you do that? It’s about my partner Iris Ganser, you remember her? You’ve met her last year in London. I have the strong suspicion that she’s in a life-threatening situation.”

“You mean the sexy blue-eyed chick? Oh yes, I envy you for having her as a partner. I fall for her. What’s wrong? I’d have to call in a big, a very big favour. At least I would like to know what this is about.”

“I’ll explain to you later, just one thing, it’s about Benninger. He escaped from me with a small machine, so I suspect he'll land somewhere within an hour of my location."

"All right, you’ll get your helicopter it’ll be at the hotel roof in half an hour.”

David rang off. And right away his mobile rang.

“Tom? Did you find something?”

A young voice answered, “I’ve only found one house in the short time I’ll send the coordinates on your phone. I’m just watching the satellite image and I can see two heat signatures.”
“Thanks Tom, I owe you one.”

David pushed the antenna into the big service mobile phone. What on earth had he been doing until recently without these things? He went back into the hotel and stepped into a lift. Again he moved restlessly in the elevator from one cabin wall to the other. He was not born to stand still. The agent did not have to wait five minutes on the roof, and already the helicopter landed. He passed the coordinates to the pilot and the helicopter took off.

 

When Frank laid her down on the bed, he did it carefully he was still playing games with Iris. He took a lot of time making love to her, and she was a very stimulating partner. With her well-conditioned body, she could do things that really turned him on. He took her gently and held himself back a little. He brought her to orgasm and his movements became harder, his thrusts unrelenting. He put his hands around her delicate, fragile neck. Horrified, Iris began to open her eyes. She started struggling and tried to push him away, but with his weight he held her down on the bed and then his fingers clasped around her throat.

As a trained policewoman and Interpol agent, she could have easily freed herself, but suddenly her tense muscles slackened. This was not only because she was running out of air to breathe, but also because of the drug Benninger had put into her champagne unnoticed. The drug and arms dealer, of whose guilt the young agent had unfortunately not been convinced, grinned at her.

 

The helicopter landed on a meadow in front of the house. As soon as the skids touched the ground, David jumped out. He knew he acted imprudently he should have done a recce first. But the agent also knew that he did not have the time.

 

Iris was in this situation, into which she had gotten herself due to her carelessness without chances. Benninger was in a sensual frenzy. She was still trying to bring her fingers to his eyes, but it was far too late. Her arms dropped weakly to her sides.

 

David stormed the house his weapon drawn; he simply threw himself with his whole body weight against the front door, which gave way with a crash. Then he stood still and listened into the house. Nobody seemed to be startled by the noise. Tom had still informed him that the heat signatures came from the first floor, first door to the right of the staircase. He crept up the stairs then gently pressed the door handle down.

 

When Iris breathed her last, Frank reached his climax with a wild animalistic outcry.

 

David jumped into the bedroom. He stumbled upon an elderly couple, who awoke from deep sleep with a start.

In desperation, David shouted at them, “Where is he?”

The man did not understand and asked drowsily, “Who’s where?”

“Frank Benninger.”

“Our boss?” The man stammered in a fright, as he realized the gun close to his face. “But... but he didn’t tell us he was coming this weekend.”

The realization that he had failed hit David like a punch in the gut. He staggered down the stairs and out of the house. Now only one thing was left to him, he had to go back to Berlin and see if Iris was back. If not, he would be waiting in front of her flat, if need be, all night.

8.

It was the first time Frank killed one of his sex episodes. Benninger let go of her neck and rolled down from Iris' dead body. Then he jumped up full of verve. He was so turned on that he couldn't lie still.

“That was indescribably exhilarant, my dear...” Without the slightest mockery, he looked down on Iris´ corpse. At peace with the world and himself he added, "Oh, sorry, of course not for you." With an almost regretful shrug of his shoulders, he asked her a serious question, "You didn't really think you could fool me, did you?" And then the tough criminal David had warned his young partner about came out. "A little Interpol slut like you, I'm having breakfast whenever I want."

Only truly cunning psychopaths were able to strangle a human being. Any normal person who possessed only a little empathy would let go of his victim in the long minutes of the agony before they breathed their last. But the power he had possessed over the young woman at that moment gave Frank Benninger an unbelievable energy boost. Though this feeling would not immediately drive him back onto the street to look for his next victim, but it was worthwhile for him to experience it more often. He could wait for the next time and enjoy the anticipation.

At that moment he felt untouchable, just like his father had been back then. Ralf Benninger had been regarded during his lifetime as the most influential man in the newspaper industry. With a single word, he had been able to overthrow politicians and make stars fall deep. It was luck for many of them, that he was corruptible. Much to the chagrin of his family he was a hard-boiled tyrant. He tormented his wife whenever he could and thus was the reason she became a heavy drinker. His son’s will he broke by beating him. When Frank left home for university, he could escape his father’s violence for a short time, but evil was already too deeply rooted in him.

 

At university he had only one goal. He wanted to have a good time. If somebody stood in his way, he wallowed in the mud until he found something with which he could blackmail the respective person that was on his red list. Over the years the list became quite long. Early on he began to collect information about everything and everyone, whether fellow student or professor. He was very good at that, because he was following the example set by his father. The guiding principle of the Benninger men had always been: knowledge is power. The kind of power that is gained by silencing disagreeable people who got in the way of the Benningers.

Soon he secured the coveted position of editor-in-chief of the student newspaper, because his greatest talent was writing, the words just came to him. He flattered in the right places or he condemned when it seemed appropriate for his goals. He was an opportunist if there ever was one.

Still during his studies, his father got him a job at a newspaper in the vicinity of the university. Frank remembered the conversation, which had rather been an order from Ralf Benninger. "Paul will accept you as a trainee."

"Paul Seger hates me. So why would he do that? And why should I work for him? Don't you think that my studies and the student newspaper are more than enough?" The young student did not often dare to object, but in this case he felt he was absolutely right.

Actually, he could have known before that this fact did not interest his father in the least. Benninger did not tolerate any backtalk and once again he started to give Frank a lecture, "In my time at the university I was also captain of the football team..."

All that his son heard was blah, blah, blah. If the cup for the first place in the university championships had not stood on the salon's pretentious mantelpiece, one couldn’t have believed that his father had been a sporting ace in his student days. So Frank complied.

Shortly before graduating from university, he began to go out with a trainee from the newspaper. Rebecca was a cute little thing, barely sixteen years old. She could not escape his charm and was flattered when the attractive young man showed an interest in her.

As if by chance, they met in the staff kitchen. Frank had cleverly chosen a time when she was alone there and had to make coffee for visitors. When he began a conversation, she blushed slightly.

"Little Rebecca, so innocent," the twenty-five-year-old thought, already aroused. Aloud he said, "We'll soon be finished here, won't we?”

Since they had started their traineeship together, Frank had been able to build up a friendly relationship with her during the past year. So she replied, "Yes, only two months to go, then we’ll be free." With a laugh she continued, "But I think I’ll miss the shop. Thanks to you, I’ve learned a lot. Have I already told you how extremely grateful I am to you?”

In fact, he had soon noticed that the female trainees were employed only for lower services such as making coffee for the numerous visitors, getting sandwiches and copying vast amounts of documents. Journalistic activities were rarely entrusted to them by the other employees of the newspaper. Rebecca spent the months of her traineeship with not exactly demanding tasks, though she had a talent for writing. Had it not been for him, she would not have been able to find out how great this talent was.

So he had secured her gratitude, and now he went on the offensive. "No, not yet. But you can do it with a meal. How about tonight?" His great patience should finally pay off.

 

During their first two dates he still held his fire. But after the third he wanted more of her. Frank parked his car behind a hedge in front of her house. Tenderly at first, he took Rebecca in his arms and kissed her. Unexperienced as she was she snuggled up to him. Her body was not quite mature yet, her breasts only showed the first gentle curves. He exposed them and moaned. So maidenly and so innocent, that's how he loved them.

With his good looks, he had made his first experiences with the other sex at a young age. The first time he had sex was with the girlfriend of his older cousin whom he did not like very much. The attractive young woman had seduced him behind his parents' pool house when he had only been fifteen. Despite her large, heavy breasts, which actually had not turned him on very much, she had been able to arouse him. She had made sure of that with her skillful mouth and tongue. But he liked very young girls, whom he could dominate. Just like it was now the case with Rebecca.

Frank moaned once more. He was so excited that he lost his temper. The young man grabbed harder.

Rebecca screamed in surprise, she had not expected this. "Frank, you hurt me."

Immediately, he loosened his grip, he could restrain himself with difficulty, but it was already too late.

"I’m fed up with fumbling for today. I’ll go now." Shaky she

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: CD Sanders cdsanders2014@gmail.com
Bildmaterialien: CD Sanders cdsanders2014@gmail.com/pixabay.de
Cover: CD Sanders cdsanders2014@gmail.com
Übersetzung: Elke Keilhofer-Schmidt
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 20.11.2018
ISBN: 978-3-7438-8697-1

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Widmung:
For David, Peter and Tom.

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