Brodie turned off the Vespa. The area looked desolate, and the road was quiet except for an occasional passing truck or car. Streetlights illuminated the road, but the area on the opposite side of the fence was hard to make out through the gloom and the swirling snow.
Brodie and Taylor got off the Vespa, then scrambled up the gate and over it.
They surveyed their surroundings. They were in a snow-covered park dotted with trees and picnic tables. There were no lampposts around to light the area, but he could see a path leading toward a distant tree line. They appeared to be alone.
They unslung their G36s and did an ammo check. Brodie had only three rounds left in his rifle’s mag, so he swapped it with a full mag in his pocket, then checked his pistol. One round in the chamber, six in the mag. He returned it to his pocket. Taylor also popped a fresh mag in her rifle.
Brodie signaled Taylor, and they sprinted through the snow toward the tree line. They reached it and looked out. Beyond the trees was a flat, seemingly endless white expanse beneath a washed-out sky. It was like a moonscape, vast and alien, diffused through the veil of a steady snowfall.
Brodie scanned the snowy expanse. It was hard to see much of anything, but if Granger and his people were here, they’d have a lookout, equippedwith night vision surveillance. It occurred to him that he could also be completely wrong about Granger’s whereabouts, and the whereabouts of the mortars, in which case he and Taylor were running around an empty park after hours with automatic weapons while the opening act of NordFaust’s Götterdämmerung unfolded elsewhere.
Far off to their right Brodie saw LED lampposts amidst a large, empty parking lot. Beyond it was the vague silhouette of a wide, low building.
Taylor said, “That must be the old airport terminal.”
Brodie scanned the distant building. On the northern end of it, which was closest to them, was a tall tower with a white radar dome. The air traffic control tower. He pointed to it and said, “If they are here, and if they know their stuff, there’ll be a lookout or a sniper up there. Probably both.”
Taylor nodded. “But even with a night vision scope or binoculars, their visibility will be crap in this weather.”
“Better than ours.”
“Look.”
Brodie looked where Taylor was pointing. Off to their left he could see the impression of tire marks in the snow, running from an opening in the tree line twenty yards away and cutting across the field.
Brodie gestured for Taylor to follow him along the tree line. They reached the break in the trees, where there was a narrow asphalt path barely visible. The tire marks originated somewhere farther to the east and ran through the tree line out into the snowy field. Brodie thought he could see the faint red glow of taillights somewhere beyond.
He said to Taylor, “I’m going to follow these tire tracks. Count to fifteen and follow.”
She looked at the distant air traffic control tower, which was designed to have a view of everything above and below. “Okay… but that tower—”
“Then stay here and cover me.”
Brodie broke out of the tree line and ran across the field, following the tire marks. He didn’t hear any gunshots, and in a few seconds he saw the taillights of a stationary vehicle ahead of him. He aimed his rifle toward the vehicle as he ran closer.
It was a small white sedan with some sort of logo painted on the side. The car was still running, and the driver’s-side door was open.
He rounded the driver’s side of the car and got low with his rifle trainedon the windows. The back seat was empty, and there was no one in the front. Then he spotted a single bullet hole in the middle of the windshield.
The crack of a rifle rang out somewhere behind him. He dropped behind the car and spun around as Taylor ran across the field. She dove behind the car as another shot shattered a car window.
She caught her breath. “I saw the muzzle flash. He’s in the tower. Just at the base of the radar dome.”
Another shot hit the body of the car.
Brodie spotted a dark object in the snow, about twenty feet ahead of them. It was a body, lying face down. Maybe park security. The guy must have been doing his rounds or maybe responding to something he saw or heard. The sniper put a round through the windshield, the man panicked and fled the car, and then he caught one in the back.
Taylor said, “I guess we’re in the right place.”
“That’s the good news.” Brodie relayed the bad news: “The sniper will radio our location to his friends. We have to move. Now.”
Taylor nodded.
Brodie looked out at the snowy field. A charge through the snow under sniper fire with limited ammo was not exactly a good plan, but it was the only plan. Backup from the German police might be minutes away, or hours away. Would Trent Chilcott have immediately contacted the German authorities? Or would he delay that phone call, and allow time for two renegade CID agents to go out in a blaze of glory before the cavalry arrived? Brodie could make a good case for either. So could Trent Chilcott.
Brodie gestured out to the field and said to Taylor, “We don’t know where they have set up the mortars, but tactically speaking, the dead center of the field is the most isolated position and would allow them the most time to surveil anyone approaching. So let’s assume that is where they are. Due south. Vary your speed and your direction as much as you can. Try not to be a predictable target.” He added, “The snowfall gives us some concealment at this distance.”
Taylor looked him in the eyes and did not respond.
