He heard the beating of helicopter blades overhead. The air cavalry had arrived. Maybe this was not his day after all.
A chopper flicked on a searchlight as it streaked across the sky, and he was back at Tempelhof, in the swirling, freezing night. A loudspeaker blasted orders in German.
Some of the men started firing at the chopper and took return fire. In the confusion a soldier rushed around the truck right into Brodie’s line of fire and Brodie shot him in the chest. Then Brodie ran back around the utility truck toward where he thought he’d heard Taylor.
He found her lying face down in the snow near the armored personnel truck and dragged her under it as bullets from the helicopter rained down around them. The helicopter descended onto the field and SWAT police poured out of the chopper and exchanged fire with the remaining soldiers who’d taken cover behind the utility truck. Then he saw another chopper—the command and control craft—which remained airborne and swept the field with its searchlight.
Brodie turned Taylor onto her back and looked at her. Her eyes were open and she was breathing normally. He told her, “SWAT team’s here. We’ll get you medevaced.”
Taylor nodded.
Brodie saw a bullet hole in her winter coat on her left side above the waist. He put his hand under her coat and sweater to find the wound. The jagged flesh and warm blood was on her far left side, and felt to him likea grazing wound, with no penetration. He grabbed a fistful of snow and packed it on the wound, then placed her left hand over it. Taylor shuddered. Brodie said, “Hang in, soldier.”
He located her pistol in the snow and put it in her right hand. He looked her in the eyes and said, “You’ve been hit before, and worse than this.”
“Thanks for the memories.”
Suddenly a vehicle door opened, and someone jumped out of the personnel carrier and ran. From beneath the vehicle Brodie could make out a civilian winter coat and dark pants.
He looked back at Taylor. “I think I see Granger. Running.”
“You need to pursue.”
Brodie didn’t move.
“Scott… Don’t let him get away.”
He looked at her. “Okay. Be right back.”
“You better…”
Brodie rolled out from under the personnel carrier and stood. The SWAT police were still engaged in a firefight with the remaining NordFaust soldiers, and the C&C chopper was sweeping the southern end of the field with its searchlight.
Brodie ran toward the fleeing figure, who was headed away from the choppers and toward the southeastern corner of Tempelhof Field, where there was a long chain-link fence topped with razor wire.
Brodie shouted, “Army CID! Halt! Or I shoot!”
The man kept running. Brodie fired a shot in the air.
The man stopped, but did not turn around.
“Put your hands on your head!” He added, “Asshole!”
The man slowly complied.
Brodie approached with his pistol trained on the man’s back. As he got closer, he saw that the man was gray-haired and balding, and wearing a black wool coat. “Turn around!”
The man turned, hands on his head. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties. Not Granger. He looked Brodie in the eyes with an expression filled with contempt.
“What is your name?”
“I am Dr. Martin Hausner. And you must be Mr. Brodie.”
“I must be. And where is Colonel Granger?”
Hausner didn’t answer.
Brodie aimed the pistol at the man’s heart. “Where is Charles Granger?”
