Free Foreign Agent by Brad Thor Page B

index finger to his lips. “Where’s Anna?”
    “What do you want with Anna?”
    “Where is she?” he repeated.
    “I don’t know.”
    Harvath didn’t believe him. “Last chance,” he said, leveling the pistol at his chest.
    “She’s at work.”
    “When will she be home?”
    The man shrugged. “She should have been home an hour ago. Sometimes she goes out with her colleagues.”
    “She doesn’t call you?”
    Strobl used the joystick to move his wheelchair toward his intruder.
    “That’s close enough,” Harvath warned him.
    “Who are you and what do you want with Anna?” the man asked again.
    “I didn’t come for Anna. I came for you, Herr Strobl.”
    “For me? Why for me?”
    “You have been handling travel arrangements for a very dangerous man.”
    “ A very dangerous man , ” Strobl replied with a laugh. “You obviously have made a mistake.”
    “I don’t make mistakes,” Harvath said. “You’re the man I’m looking for and you know exactly why I’m here.”
    “I wish I could help you, but I cannot.”
    “You can help me and you will .”
    “I am calling the police,” Strobl stated, turning his chair and moving back toward his desk.
    Harvath grabbed a handful of the wheelchair’s electrical cable and tore it out. The machine came to an immediate halt.
    “You’re making me angry, Jörg.”
    “And you have the wrong man!” he insisted, raising his voice. “I want you to go. Now!”
    “Not until you tell me everything I want to know.”
    “I know nothing,” the man said, averting his gaze.
    “Jörg, the more you lie to me, the worse this is going to get. Believe me. Your condition will not win you any special treatment. You have been aiding and abetting a killer. I want the details. All of them.”
    Strobl was preparing to speak, but was interrupted.
    “I want the details too,” said another voice.
    Looking up, Harvath saw Anna Strobl standing in the doorway. She had a pistol and it was pointed right at him.

CHAPTER 15

    A nna Strobl wasn’t a great cop, but she wasn’t a bad one either. Like anything else in life, police work had everything to do with timing, and instinct.
    On her way home, she had decided to get fuel. Up ahead, she had noticed a car slow down in front of her house. It didn’t stop, but whoever was driving had taken a good, long look at her property before driving off. It was enough to raise her antennae.
    After passing her home, the car had returned to a normal speed and turned the corner. She watched and let it drive away.
    Even if she had been driving an official Bundespolizei vehicle with lights and sirens, rather than her personal vehicle, she still would have needed more in order to justify a stop.
    Returning from the filling station, she was still bothered by the car’s actions. She decided to take a roundabout way home and look for it. She found it parked in front of a church, two blocks from her house. The driver was nowhere to be seen. Something wa s going on .
    One of the neighbors was traveling and had asked Anna to keep an eye on their house. She parked in their driveway and made her way through the backyards until she got to her own. There was no sign of anything wrong, but her gut told her otherwise.
    When she found her back door unlocked, she drew her weapon, slipped off her boots, and crept inside.
    She had heard the entire conversation. What bothered her even more than the intruder’s knowing her name was that Jörg wasn’t even a good liar.
    “Drop your weapon,” she told the man holding her husband at gunpoint.
    “You first,” Harvath replied.
    Anna leaned her shoulder forward so he could see the patch. “Bundespolizei,” she said. “More officers are on the way. Drop your weapon. Now .”
    “No thanks. I’ll wait until they get here.”
    “I am not asking you. I am ordering you. Do it now.”
    Harvath looked at the man in the wheelchair. “My superiors know everything, Jörg. They know why I’m here and what you’ve