The pine needles had been sharp, however, and he now had them embedded in his hands and face, to go with the cuts from the broken glass from the balcony. The fall also hadn’t helped his bruised ribs, which were still not properly healed.
Now he was joining the crowds though, on his way out of the mall, and he knew that the agents couldn’t risk taking any more shots at him. He had a good head start, and would set out straight into the sprawling Christmas market outside, losing the agents there and –
The air was knocked out of him as the security guard tackled him from the side, blasting him sideways and down to the hard floor, landing with his heavy body on top of him.
Cole’s head turned, and he saw two more uniformed guards racing in from the other side. He head butted the man above him, managing to disorientate him for long enough to roll him off the side, slipping two fingers into the base of the man’s neck and rendering him instantly unconscious.
The other guards were on him now, their steel batons fully extended and rearing back to strike.
Cole blasted in towards the guard on the right, intercepting the man’s raised arm before he had a chance to swing the weapon back towards Cole. At the same instant, he unleashed a straight punch to the guard’s jaw. It didn’t knock the man out, but dazed him enough for Cole to grab the man’s collar and turn him into the path of the second guard.
The second man’s baton struck his comrade, now used by Cole as a shield, directly across the face, causing a sickening crack, and Cole capitalized on the man’s shock by planting a heavy front kick straight into his gut, blasting him backwards across the concourse.
Cole flinched as a chip of concrete flew up from the floor at him, and he sprinted for the big glass exit doors as bullets traced their way towards him, not even glancing over his shoulder.
He knew the agents would be right behind him, closing in.
84
Cole broke out into the clean, crisp night, watching as the crowds that had recently been inside the Fünf Höfe dispersed through the surrounding streets. There were some curious onlookers who had stopped, nervously staring back at the arched entranceway, wondering if they would see any more of the carnage they had witnessed inside, but most of the people were heading away from the mall as quickly as they could.
Cole was on Theatinerstrasse, a long straight road that led from the mall entrance right down to the Marienplatz precinct and the Munich Christmas market. The world famous market used to run only from Advent to Christmas Eve, but had for the past two years extended its run until New Year; it was simply too valuable to Munich’s tourist economy to limit it to the traditional period alone.
Cole knew the market would be swarming with people, and took off down Theatinerstrasse towards it at a run. Surely he would be able to lose his pursuers there.
85
Cole was at the cross roads further down in less than a minute, dodging in and out of the casual pedestrians as swiftly as he could, anxious to put as much space between him and the agents as possible before he slowed and melted away with the market crowds.
As he ran straight across the junction, car horns blaring as he sprinted straight across to the pedestrianized Weinstrasse, he glimpsed over his shoulder and saw six suited men following close behind, pushing their way through the evening strollers. Cole could see frustration written plain across their faces as the traffic increased at the junction and they were forced to wait for a break between the vehicles.
Cole used the extra time to increase his stride and put even more distance between them.
The Munich Christmas market was vast, almost a town within the city. Hundreds of gift sellers competed with hundreds more food stalls, ranging in size from simple trestle tables to huge tents. In and around the narrow passageways, entertainers vied for the tourists’ attention, with everything from juggling and acrobatics through to classical musicians and carol singers.
There was a warm glow from the small Christmas town, coming from the traditional kerosene lamps that dotted the lanes. It was like something from a bygone era, and Cole was sure that he would be able to lose his pursuers there.
86
Porter had led his men out of the mall, guns now hidden again against their legs — they didn’t want the whole area to descend into a panic. That would just make an already difficult job into an impossible one.
As it was, as Porter and his men chased their quarry down Theatinerstrasse towards Weinstrasse and the Marienplatz, he was unsure of whether they would manage to catch him at all. Although the mall security guards had managed to slow the man down, Cole still had a head start on them, and it would be a relatively simple affair to lose himself in the mass of people that would be gathered at the Christmas market ahead, which was where he was undoubtedly headed.
The only thing in their favour was that Cole was now a little easier to spot — the damage to his face from the shattered glass and the pine needles would be hard to miss.
Porter could only hope that it would be enough.
87
Cole made his way down one of the lanes between the stalls, heading on a rough south easterly course that he knew would take him to the far side of the Marienplatz, where he would slip into a taxi and get the hell out of Munich.
He was, however, all too conscious of the cuts that criss-crossed his face. The blood, still running freely down to his neck and chest, made him far too noticeable, and he just hoped that the tightly-packed crowd would stop his pursuers from getting too close.
His head turned to his left as he heard a siren from that direction, presumably drawn by news of the gun battle at the mall. As his head moved, his eyes caught a glimpse of a man coming out from between one of the stalls, a glint of metal in his hand as it raised level with Cole’s chest.
It was one of the agents, and Cole didn’t have time to dwell on how the man had found him; instead, he jerked his body violently to the side, just as the agent fired the pistol.
Cole felt a searing heat burn his shoulder, but ignored the pain, rolling across the floor towards the food stall on the agent’s left hand side. There was a griddle for meat on the main counter, and the stall was outfitted like a mini-kitchen. There was a stove too, with a chip pan bubbling away, oil burning at over three hundred degrees centigrade.
The agent’s aim was blocked as people reacted to the gunshot and started to run, and Cole used this opportunity to grab the pan in both hands, much to the shock of the stall’s owners.
The space cleared between Cole and the agent, and as the gun turned towards him, Cole was already releasing the pan, the boiling liquid showering the agent in a steaming squall.
The man tried to protect his head and face from the hot oil, taking his aim away from Cole, but he still took the worst of it, screaming wildly as it covered him. Cole continued towards him, then pivoted as he noticed movement from his left; whereas most people were running away, this figure was approaching at speed.
Cole wasted no time in a visual check, instead turning back to the food stall and grabbing a long-bladed knife from a chopping block. Continuing his turn, he saw the second agent stop in front of him, raising both arms to take a more stable two-handed grip on his gun; there was a bark and Cole watched the yellow muzzle flash even as he released the knife.
Cole carried on with his turn, feeling another burn across the top of his chest at the same time as he saw his knife enter the man’s throat, knocking him straight onto his back, dead.