Carefully, she lowered herself down from the window ledge and slid to the lower edge. Suddenly, another explosion rocked the house shook violently and her foot slipped just as she reached the narrow strip. For a second, she almost lost her balance, but she regained, pressing her body against the roof.
She shuffled her feet quickly, careful to keep her body against the building. When she reached the end, she pushed away from the roof and stood cautiously. There was a small gap between where she was standing and the top of the next building. Fortunately, the distance was only a few feet but the drop down was closer to ten feet. Adriana didn’t have a choice so she jumped. Another explosion shook the building as she leapt from the ledge. Her body flew through the air and landed safely on the other roof. She rolled a few feet and covered her face as smoke and debris shot out from the emblazoned building.
A few pieces of the wall and broken tile lay around her.
She made sure she hadn’t hurt herself with the sudden landing then got up and looked at the burning home. Helen Obermeyer’s house looked like it had been hit by a bomb. Huge pieces of it were missing in the roof and walls. The blaze continued to consume the building and several parts of the structure were beginning to collapse.
Across the street, the crowd of onlookers was growing and the sirens were only seconds away. Adriana ran across the roof, away from the scene, and jumped onto a side porch of an adjacent building. Then, she walked casually out onto the sidewalk as the fire trucks and police cars passed by, blocking her escape from the view of any witnesses.
A few minutes later, Adriana unlocked the door to her hotel room. She had made her way back amid the growing chaos around the inferno. Fortunately, she felt like no one had paid her any mind. She eased open the door to a room that had been completely torn apart. All of her clothes and personal belongings were strewn over the floor and bed. The few documents she had brought on her trip were scatter about.
She pulled out her gun from within her jacket and stepped quietly towards the bathroom. Suddenly, she felt a sharp blow to the back of her neck and everything went black.
Adriana awoke to the splash of water on her face. Her wrists hurt and she realized they were tied behind her back: she’d been strapped to a wooden chair. A dim light hung in front of her and, as the haze began to subside from her vision, she realized where she was.
She didn’t recognize the man holding the bottle. She peered through the haze but he squirted more of the icy water on her face then drizzled it on her hair as an additional insult to injury. She struggled against the ropes and rocked the chair back and forth but to no avail.
Another figure entered the room, his face hidden slightly by the shadow in the doorway. “You ask too many questions, my dear.”
“Friedrich,” she said the name through clenched teeth. Water spat out of her mouth as she spoke.
“And you are also too trusting, just like your friend, Martin,” he added.
She squirmed again. “What have you done with him?”
“With Martin?” He walked slowly over to the table near where she was bound and sat down next to her. “I have not done a thing with him. Not yet anyway. We have to deal with you first. We will get to him soon enough.”
Adriana stared hard at the man. Her head throbbed from the base of her skull; her eyes strained against the light.
Friedrich grabbed her chin in one hand while the younger man watched. “Now, my dear. Who is it you are working for?”
She tried to shake her head free of his grip but he held firm. “I work for myself,” she spat.
Friedrich shook his head at the answer. The other man picked up a knife from the table. Again, she struggled as he took the blade and began cutting the upper fabric of her black tank top.
He had reached near the center of her breasts when Friedrich stopped him. “You see, my dear, the more you lie to me, the more fun I’m going to let our friend here have with you. And the more fun he has, the more painful it is for you. I promise you that.”
She shook the chair violently, struggling against the ropes. Veins popped up on her bare arms and neck as she thrashed about.
Friedrich gripped her tight, restricting her movement. “Now, I’ll ask you again. Who do you work for? Who is looking for this painting?”
She shook her head. “I already told you, dumbkopf. I work alone.”
He raised an eyebrow and spoke in a cynical tone. “Oh. Well, that is good. That means no one will come looking for you when he is finished. Not that there will be much left to find.” Friedrich nodded to the other man again who immediately continued cutting the tank top.
Her chest heaved as the fabric exposed more and more skin. The man with the knife was sweating a little, perhaps becoming more excited as he exposed more of her skin.
A loud click came from the direction of the doorway. The man with the knife appeared stunned for a moment, his face grimaced in pain. As the body collapsed to the floor, Mueller turned towards the door but his movement was too late. Another click sent a bullet through his right eye and out the back of his head. There was a few seconds pause before his body fell over backwards.
Adriana looked at the bloody mess around her. The wall and concrete floor were splattered in crimson. She tried hard to see into the doorway and catch a glimpse of who had killed her captors, but the only thing she could make out was the silhouette of someone in a black turtleneck and pants. The face was in shadow.
“Adriana Villa?” A voice in a local accent.
“Yes? Who are you?”
Two figures entered the room, completely covered in black and wearing ski masks. They both carried black handguns with sound suppressors attached to the barrels.
“What do you want?” she asked as the men untied her wrists. One of them held her jacket in one hand.
“Put on your coat,” the voice said from the doorway.
“What are you going to do with me? Why did you help me?” She was confused. The man had saved her but she wondered to what end.
The silhouette said nothing. After she put on her jacket, one of the men started to put a pillowcase over her head. “That won’t be necessary,” the figure in the door stopped him. Satisfied with the order, the two other men exited back through the doorway.
“Come with me,” the man said flatly.
She looked back at the two bodies for a moment. Blood had begun to pool on the floor. The man in the doorway had already turned and started for the front of the shop. Uncertain what was going on, she followed quickly behind. Outside the shop, the man hopped into the front of a silver Mercedes sedan. One of the other men opened the rear door for her and she slid into the black leather seats. As soon as the door was closed, the driver took off and wheeled the elegant car onto the street headed for the outskirts of town.
She looked back and saw the two men in ski masks re-enter the shop. “What are they doing?” she asked as she peered through the sloped back window.
“The same thing those dead men did to Helen’s house,” he replied. “Burning it down.”
“Who are you?” Adriana asked. “Holger Foyt?”
A slight laugh came from the man in the front seat. He did not, however, turn around, still keeping his face a mystery to her. The car zipped up a small, winding mountain road. A black forest blurred by outside. The homes of the city had been left behind and now she assumed they were on a private driveway of some sort.
A few minutes passed before the car arrived at a huge gate. Two men wearing gray coats and black caps were standing next to a guard shack as the metal barricade swung open slowly.