Deep Down Under

Chapter 14

Wollzeille Road, Vienna, 9:01 am

A Mercedes-Benz SUV pulled onto the side of the street and out stepped Subramanian, Mohammed, Sadowsky and Giggs while Nicholas waited behind in the car.

Mohammed felt a strange feeling prevailing in the atmosphere of the place. All the businesses were open yet, there was not a single customer. He felt like he was walking straight into a trap.

There was no definitive proof but he learnt over time spent with the organisation that the human brain was the best thing to rely on. An ominous feeling could tell the difference between life and death. Most people chose to follow logic and hard facts instead of their guts and they were proven wrong. The Titanic was one great example of the failure of 'definitive proof' as those people called it. It was actually dubbed as the 'Indestructible Ship' but it sank, ironically.

Then he smiled, knowing what they had in store for the Vienna Police.

Fools.

They had to disguise Sadowsky to avoid attracting attention from any unpleasant visitors. Their plan was fantastic, he loved it. Not only for its genius but also that it had been formulated by himself.

Somehow, they had figured out that they were carrying Sadowsky and now they were aiding and abetting a convicted terrorist mastermind.

Subramanian came to halt, creating a domino-like effect of stopping everyone.

"This is it, so just remember: act natural," said the leader of pack and the others nodded. He eyed Sadowsky specifically; his gaze showed that he shouldn't play games with him. Some way or another he would suffer.

* * *

The clerk shuddered with fear as the group of men approached closer and closer to him. A drop of sweat trickled down his cheek as he tried his best to keep calm and follow the instructions which had been given to them by the police who had arrived before.

One of the men, somewhere from the southwest part of Asia flashed an ID. The clerk noticed the bold words in the ID.

Interpol.

The man, who had noticed his fear, grinned wide and opened his mouth wide to ask the clerk a simple question.

"What's your name?"

He hesitated for a while, transfixed with mixed feelings. The police had not mentioned anything about Interpol arriving at the scene.

The same man continued, "Forget about that, we need access to Benjamin Sadowsky's locker."

The clerk only gave a blank expression but lots were going on inside that mind of his.

* * *

Subramanian got irritated at the clerk's response. He decided to ask the question once again. "Are you bloody deaf? I said that I need access to Benjamin Sadowsky's locker."

The clerk, thinking that they were really Interpol, fell for the act and led them to a room with dozens of lockers. He ran a quick search on the database stored in his tablet and then pointed to locker on the right column. "Locker number 108."

Subramanian walked towards the locker along with the clerk. "I need to consult the bank manager," said the clerk with a slight tremble.

Subramanian got annoyed once again by that man. "Consult with the bank manager?! This is a matter of international security!" He yelled and sent the clerk scampering off like a rat.

Around a minute later, the clerk arrived with another who seemed to be the manager of the bank. A badge on the left side of his chest justified that by shining those letters brightly. He walked up to Subramanian with an apologetic look. "I regret for any inconvenience caused by one of our employees, sir," said the manager, simultaneously glaring back at the clerk who looked down in regret. "You may have access to the locker of the terrorist suspect."

Subramanian smiled, despite not liking Mohammed much, he still had to admit the genius of the plan. Suddenly, a famous moral struck him.

Looks can be deceiving.

"It might take a while, we usually don't open-" The manager was cut off abruptly when Subramanian raised his hand, his palm at the manager's face.

"Just get on with it."

It took about ten minutes for the locker to get open. Subramanian's heart was pumping; Mohammed's heart was also doing the same. While Sadowsky's sunk into grief, sadness, regret and all other negative emotions. He couldn't believe it; a few days ago they didn't even exist. One of the world's biggest crime organisations was invisible and they were being ignored but they had revealed themselves only to Sadowsky. His late friend had been right all along. There was somebody like that and they wouldn't stop until all the intellectuals were dead.

The leader pulled out a grey pen drive. Sadowsky gulped. That was definitely the one.

* * *

Vienna Police HQ, Vienna, 9:16 am

LaRusso was furious. A stealth operation had been launched without anyone informing him. He took in a deep breath and counted to twenty in his head; it was time for him to adjust to the new surroundings.

He then turned to Broderick, who was trying to figure out where the Krieg had sent the team. LaRusso didn't see any signs of disappointment in his face.

"They're outside a bank on Wollzeille road," he announced.

"What about Krieg?" LaRusso wanted to speak with the head of the police department immediately. Broderick let out an exaggerated sigh as if trying to match his boss' level of disappointment. "They keep saying that he's busy."

LaRusso cursed the Austrian under his breath. It just wasn't correct. Launching a tactical operation on an international group of terrorists without him ever being informed enraged him. If they ended up killing them, he would be even angrier. If he wanted them dead, they would die in his hands.

Broderick was talking to one of the officials and his eyes widened. He came rushing back to LaRusso.

"The bank gave access to the terrorists thinking that they were Interpol. They impersonated us."

LaRusso groaned. It seemed as if they got the better of them once again. Now, he would make them pay even more for playing such dangerous games.

* * *