Shout in the Dark Read Online Free PDF

about to withdraw quietly, to
disappear into one of the narrow side streets, when a car slid to a
halt outside the studio. Several armed men leapt out and ran to the
shelter of the bushes. Still there was no sign of Karl. Kessel
guessed that two more vehicles now arriving with sirens blaring
held members of the Groupe Interventional Speciale -- the crack anti-terrorist force of the
Italian carabinieri .
    Spotlights blazed across the glass front
of the building, blasting the warm glow of evening sunshine with
flashes of intense blue light. A man in combat gear shouted through
a loudhailer, ordering everyone to keep back. Staff leaning from
windows were told to stay inside until the "small problem" had been
resolved. There was sudden activity in the entrance
lobby.
    Kessel's stomach turned to a knot as he
saw the skinhead Karl Bretz, the ski mask hiding his face, standing
just inside the door with the relic clutched to his chest. He
seemed to be frozen by the bright lights. As a product of Total
Training, he was showing scant regard for the time and energy that
had been expended on him. Hadn't the cretin taken in what he'd been
told about the rear escape route?
    Karl had taken no human hostage -- another
mistake. The GIS would not be
kept waiting. They must know that the longer they delayed, the more
chance there was of their target using his gun on them. A shout
from the captain brought men darting from the shadows. In spite of
the huge glass front to the entrance area, Karl either did not see,
or could not cope with, such a sudden attack. From the safety of
his viewpoint Kessel flinched as a stun grenade shattered the glass
doors, sending the large youth reeling backwards.
    Karl seemed to recover, but the GIS hurled two more grenades
through the broken door. Karl raised the relic and pitched it
forward.
    A stun grenade and the bronze head crashed
together in an explosive bombshell that shook the street. Manfred
Kessel watched in disbelief as the bronze shattered. The head had
disintegrated like pottery.
    The crowd stood in horrified silence as
the echo died away. The Groupe Interventional Speciale , in their black outfits with ballistic
helmets and face shields, burst into the foyer without waiting for
the smoke to clear. Bronze fragments lay over the green carpet
tiles, but Karl had already gone.
    The local carabinieri urged the crowd to move further back. Persuasion
was not needed. The explosions from the grenades had frightened the
onlookers. They had only gathered for the entertainment, and
certainly did not intend putting themselves in danger. Kessel
stayed for nearly an hour while the security forces searched the
building. Suddenly he felt an arm go round his shoulder.
Instinctively he tore himself free.
    " Don't be so jumpy, Herr Kessel!" The voice spoke perfect
German.
    Kessel turned, unable to disguise the
admiration in his voice. "So, you managed to get away,
Karl!"
    " The rear fire escape. I told you I'd do it, Herr
Kessel."
    Kessel slapped Karl hard across the face.
"You stupid idiot! For nearly twenty years I've planned to get that
relic back, and now you've destroyed it."
    He hit Karl again, harder this time.
    Karl whipped out his knife, but his eyes
were fixed on the building. "Look, Herr Kessel, it's that dumb
priest again. He's seen us." He pointed his knife towards the
building.
    " Then you know what to do, Karl."
    But as Karl went forward, a young woman
appeared from a side door of TV Roma and ran towards the priest.
She was dressed in a thin red jumper and long black
skirt.
    " Do you want me to go after him?" asked Karl.
    Kessel hit him again. "Later. The press
will have taken pictures of you holding the relic in the foyer,
Karl. You'll have to change out of that ridiculous black T-shirt
before anyone sees you. We'll go back to our hotel and watch the
television. The TV Roma news will let us know what's going
on."
    " I doubt if pictures of me would be any good," muttered
Karl, touching his face where Kessel