A State Of Sin Amsterdam Occult Series Book Two, Mark Hobson [notion reading list txt] 📗

the way over and came skidding and shaking through the air towards the dam. At the last second, it spun sideways, and then hit the roadway about two hundred yards away, the fuel tank exploding in a bright orange fireball. The ground shook and flaming debris scattered outwards, while the main rotor blades came free and cartwheeled over the sea beyond the far side of the dam.

Pieter and the two policemen cringed back from the blast of heat that rolled over them, and they shielded their faces as a second explosion rippled outwards, shaking icicles loose from the guardrail.

The helicopter, and the men onboard, were no more. All that marked their existence was a fiery grave and a column of ink-black smoke rising into the sky.

Pieter looked across at Lotte, still handcuffed to the railings, but her face was blank. She wasn’t even looking towards the burning wreckage - she showed not a flicker of concern or alarm.

In contrast, the two policemen couldn’t tear their eyes away. They had mates on that helicopter, he realized, buddies they had trained with.

He strode over and drew them away.

“Clear your heads, boys. Now’s not the time to go under.”

They both nodded silently.

“Stay here and watch her. I need to get out there after that lunatic. If she moves a muscle, shoot her.”

Chapter 26

Frozen Shore

Leaving the small group of people, Pieter hurried down the road and approached the burning wreckage. The top of the dam was quite narrow at this point, with just two lanes running east and west. But the helicopter had come down near the edge, the pieces of twisted metal scattered over the asphalt and guardrail, leaving a gap just big enough for him to get through. Yet even as he approached he could feel the intense heat from the flames. Raising one arm and using the flap of his open coat to protect his face, Pieter dashed through quickly, and emerged on the other side coughing but unsinged.

Without the helicopter to guide him, he had no way of knowing where Nina and the sniper were. He could use his walkie-talkie to call for the second chopper, but it could be miles away and he didn’t have time to wait. So he went over to the guardrail and looked northwards out over the Ijsselmeer, his eyes scanning for movement.

The strip of land on the other side was quite narrow here, consisting of just sandy grass. Other than the short fishing jetty where they had come ashore there was nothing: no running figures and nowhere to hide. So he turned and dashed across the roadway and looked south.

Slanting away from the railings at this point was a concrete incline leading downwards in a shallow angle towards a line of large boulders. Beyond these, there was a flat and wide beach sheltered by a long spit of land, a surf break consisting of a thin pebbly headland curving out into the water. The headland was still under construction by the looks of it, Pieter saw, for towards the end were several huge cranes and some lifting machinery. The beach and water had frozen along this section, but on the far side of the spit of land the sea looked tempestuous and wild, the strong gusty wind whipping up white-capped waves. Unless they had another boat to escape on there was no way they could cross the sea.

Pieter scanned the beach again, but he could see no sign of them. Which only left the surf break and the cluster of machines.

He withdrew his firearm and checked to make sure it was loaded, and then flicked off the safety. Lifting one leg over the railings, he started to slide himself across, but a sudden gunshot sent him tumbling back onto the road, the metal guardrail ringing where the round had struck, just inches from him.

So that settled it then, Pieter thought. The sniper was definitely out there somewhere.

What was he thinking, just standing there along the top of the dam and silhouetted against the sky, and making a tempting target?

He hunkered down behind the barrier, wishing he hadn’t left his helmet behind in the helicopter.

He quickly risked another peek over the top, looking left and right, and was rewarded with the briefest glimpse of someone hiding in the line of boulders below the incline. Someone wearing a grey hooded coat.

Okay, so there he was.

What about Nina? Was she with him too?

She had to be, he surmised.

The sniper was using her as insurance, a human shield no doubt to aid his escape.

But then Lotte’s words from just moments before came back to haunt him. Her threat to kill Nina in front of the world’s media, broadcast live across the globe.

Was that his plan?

The final act of brutality a means to avenge Lotte?

To prevent that he somehow had to separate the two. To get Nina away from him, or at least to try to distract him long enough to deal with him one-to-one. Perhaps take him by surprise.

Then he had an idea.

Keeping his head down he scurried along at ground level, moving away from the beach and the gunman’s hiding spot, heading eastwards along the road. After a minute or so he took another look to get his bearings. He was now opposite the spit of land, and about a hundred yards, give or take a few, from his previous position. Ducking back down once more he went even further along.

Once he felt he was far enough away, Pieter very quickly slipped over the guardrail and slid on his backside down the concrete incline to the shoreline at the bottom. The spit of land was only a few feet high but it was enough to hide him from the gunman’s line-of-sight on the far side, the simple flanking manoeuvre straight from the textbook.

Now he could approach on this side unobserved.

He was right at the water’s edge here, and the narrow rocky shore was frozen over so that his boots broke through the thin