Free Survivalist - 21 - To End All War by Jerry Ahern Page B

last of the assassins sent against her and Annie, thinning hair visible under what these days passed for a man’s fedora, held the muzzle of a Beretta 92F to the head of a woman about Natalia’s own age, the woman very obviously pregnant and very obviously terrified.
    Police and soldiers were filling the street, orders barked in strident German, the assassin unwavering as he held the woman before him as a shield. Annie, stocking-footed, was walking forward slowly, her ScoreMaster .45 held in a point shoulder position.
    A German officer shouted to Natalia, ordering her to drop her weapon. Natalia shouted back to him in his own language. “I am Natalia Tiemerovna! Do not interfere here or your Colonel Mann will hear of it! Dispatch personnel to locate Sarah Rourke and her party; there may be a similar assassination team ready to assault them. Do it now!”
    And she proceeded to ignore his further protestations as, slowly, she got up from her knees, the muzzle of the Walther still aimed at the assassin’s head. “Damned hat,” she murmured under her breath. Without the hat, she could have gotten a clear enough idea of the actual size of his head so she could shoot him there. “Annie! Come up slowly and keep to your side.”
    “Right”
    The assassin, in surprisingly good English, shouted to her, “If you attempt to—”
    “To do what?” Natalia screamed back at him. “Youll kill her? Then youll die! If you don’t lay down that pistol now, then you will die. If you do lay it down, I promise you your life—if you cooperate.” She was trying to read what kind of man this was. Was he insane enough to kill the pregnant woman hostage and go down in a hail of bullets? Or was there enough rationality left to him that he would take this one chance? If she could keep him talking, even just a litde longer, there was always the chance he might surrender, but a better chance still that she could make a killing shot.
    The Beretta he held … how had they gotten these American military weapons that had been stored for the returning Eden Project? The Beretta was cocked, his right first finger inside the guard and resting against the trigger. A shot to the elbow would have the best chance of success against an involuntary reflex triggering the shot to the head of the hostage.
    “I will kill her, Fraulein Major!”
    “Then I will kill you. You are not dealing with police, the military, anyone in this but Annie and me. We don’t negotiate, listen to demands. You will surrender or you will die here, Nazi!”
    “Don’t come any closer!”
    Natalia felt that she was close enough. “Let her go and you live; my word as an officer!”
    There was indecision in his eyes.
    But Natalia had decided. “Annie!”
    As Natalia called Annie’s name, to momentarily distract the assassin —she hoped —she triggered the shot from the Walther, the bullet striking the underside of the man’s elbow, the Beretta flying from his grasp as the pregnant woman screamed. The assassin fell back, his left hand sweeping up from under his jacket.
    Natalia had wanted him alive. There was no choice now, her body already moving, her right first finger already squeezing back against the trigger. The PPK/S discharged, Annie’s .45 firing a microsecond after it. The assassin’s left hand held a second Beretta. He triggered a shot into the sidewalk in the same instant that his body rocked back, a bullet hole where his right eyeball had been and a second wound in his throat just under his chin. Natalia’s second bullet hit her original target, the man’s right temple.
    And then the police and the military were all over him, the pregnant woman pulled away as though she were still in danger.
    Natalia looked to the left, then the right. Annie was stepping back. Natalia interposed her thumb between the
    Walther’s hammer and the rear face of the slide and worked the safety to drop the hammer, rolling her thumb out as it fell.
    She exhaled.

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