Blitzkrieg: Origins of the Prime: A Superhero Spy Thriller by Christopher Vale Read Free Book Online Page B

and winding through the city, making several turns and running in a zigzag pattern to throw any pursuers off his trail. He then entered a busy market, made his way through it, pushing past tourists, customers, and vendors alike before finally stepping out on the other side. He took this opportunity to glance around to see if he saw her. He did not, so he turned back around to walk away from the market.
    Michael’s heart leapt into his throat. As he turned, she stood right in front of him as if she had just appeared from nowhere. Michael jumped back, startled. “Who are you?” he demanded. “What do you want?” He was afraid he already knew the answer to the second question.
    “I told you,” she said, “my name is Alena.” She smiled a coy smile. “Of course twenty years ago you knew me by another name, just as I knew you by another name, Herr Colonel,” she said.
    His eyes widened. Now it all made sense. He knew how she kept getting in front of him and he knew why he recognized her. She looked exactly like her mother.
    “Kristel,” he whispered through dry lips.
    Alena nodded, her smile changing from coy to wolfish. “Ah, you do remember me, Colonel Arnulf.” She took a confident step toward him, as a lioness would step toward a gazelle. Arnulf stepped backward, away from her, reaching into his coat pocket and removing a pistol. He was still quick on the draw after all of these years and fired as soon as the pistol was pointed at her. Alena was too fast, however, and disappeared in a flash, safely away from the bullets. Arnulf scanned the area, but did not see where she had run. He spun around, dashing back into the market hoping to lose her in the mass of people there. He could not outrun her, he knew that, so he had to lose her.
    The crowd had already begun to clear after the gunfire had echoed through the air so losing her might be difficult, but it did make it easier for Arnulf to move through it. He noticed an alley to the right and darted inside, running to the end and then turning a quick left. He had lied to Alena earlier when he said he did not know the city well. The fact was, he knew Santiago better than he had ever known Berlin, having walked every inch of it over and over, to be prepared for a day such as this—when the Nazi-hunters found him to drag him back to be tried for war crimes, and he had to escape. So many of the people he had known had already been captured, many of them executed. He knew his record during the war would not play well with the tribunals. Of course, he did have an ace up his sleeve. He had information that they would most likely be willing to exchange his life for.
    The question was, however, who was Alena working for? He knew he did not want to be captured by the Russians. That would be the worst. In the back of his mind his ultimate escape plan had been to walk into the American embassy and turn himself in if he ever felt the Russians or Israelis were getting too close. The Americans knew how to treat a man like him. Several of his former comrades were having very successful careers in the United States. You just needed valuable information to trade and Arnulf certainly had that.
    Arnulf was not ready to turn himself in yet. Alena might not be working for anyone. She might be doing this on her own. Her own personal vendetta against him burning bright inside her for all of these years. Arnulf ran through the city streets. He knew exactly where he was going. He owned an interest in a pub not far away. German pubs had become very popular in South America over the years and he did quite well with it. He made his way there as quickly as possible.
    Arnulf reached the pub and glanced back over his shoulder one last time before swinging the door open and darting inside. He slammed the door closed behind him before turning and locking it. Arnulf spun back around to face the pub. It was too early for most patrons to begin drinking and there were only three occupants. All three