PART 4 — The Chase in the Fog
The sound of shattering glass and the echo of gunshots filled the old warehouse. Panic set in, but Victor reacted with cool, trained precision. He pushed Elena and me through the narrow back door leading to a steep iron fire escape.
The rain had meanwhile turned into a dense, icy fog hanging over the industrial area. The steps of the fire escape were slick and dangerous. My old joints ached with every step I took, but fear gave me a strength I didn't know I possessed. Elena nearly stumbled on the first floor, but Victor grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and helped her to her feet.
"Keep going! Don't look back!" Victor shouted over the noise.
Behind us, we heard heavy boots storming into the top-floor room. Voices shouted commands in a foreign language I couldn't identify. Then a voice spoke Dutch with a heavy, unnatural accent: "Search the files! And if the woman is there, bring her alive!"
The woman. They were looking for me. My stomach clenched. All my life I had been a simple housewife, someone who enjoyed gardening, cooking, and caring for children. How was it possible that armed men were after me? What had Thomas done?
We reached the bottom of the alley behind the warehouse. The fog was so thick here that we could barely see five meters ahead. Victor motioned for us to follow him along a row of rusty containers and stacked wooden pallets.
"My car is parked three blocks away," Victor whispered while we took cover behind a large dumpster. He checked his pistol. "Elena, your car is parked out front, right? Forget it. They're waiting for us there."
Elena nodded fearfully. "My… my purse is still inside."
"Leave it," Victor said harshly. "Your life is worth more than a bag."
Suddenly, a bright light flashed through the fog. A large black SUV slowly entered the alley, its high beams searching every movement. We ducked as low as possible into the shadow of the container. The vehicle stopped less than ten meters away from us. The engine roared threateningly.
I held my breath. My fingers clung to the small wooden box I had desperately clutched under my arm throughout the entire escape. It was the box Elena had given me that morning. I hadn't lost it in all the chaos.
The SUV door opened, and a man with a flashlight stepped out. The beam swept across the wall, glided along the containers, and stopped briefly at the spot where we were standing. I closed my eyes and waited for the shots.
But at that exact moment, a loud bang echoed from the other side of the compound—as if an old safe or an iron door had been knocked over. The man with the flashlight turned around and shouted something to the driver. The SUV accelerated and shot around the corner with spinning tires, heading toward the noise.
"That was luck," Victor exhaled. "Or someone is trying to create a distraction. Come on, run!"
We ran through the foggy streets of the industrial zone until we reached a small, unassuming gray sedan. Victor unlocked the doors, and we quickly slipped inside. He started the engine without turning on the lights and drove slowly away through the darkness. Only when we had left the industrial area far behind did he switch on the headlights.
Only when we were driving on the highway and the city lights faded behind us did I dare to breathe out again. I looked at Victor, who stared straight ahead at the road, his hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel.
"Now I want answers, Victor," I said with a determination that surprised even me. "No more evasive answers. You said Thomas was murdered. Why? Who were these men?"
Victor glanced back at me briefly in the rearview mirror. "Thomas wasn't an ordinary carpenter, Maria. Before he met you, he worked for the AIVD—the intelligence service. In 1978, he was involved in an operation in Antwerp. At that time, an enormous amount of illegal money and documents disappeared, which could blackmail high-ranking politicians."
I shook my head. "That's impossible. Thomas? A spy? He couldn't even tell a white lie without blushing!"
"That was his cover, Maria!" Victor said sharply. "He wanted to leave that life behind when he met you. He truly loved you. But the people who were after that money and those documents never stopped searching. Three months ago, Thomas discovered that one of the survivors of that old operation was active again. He tried to hide this information to protect you. But they found out he was keeping something."
"What was he keeping?" Elena asked from the backseat.
Victor looked at the wooden box still resting on my lap. "Not what, but where. The key you're holding doesn't just fit that door in the warehouse. It fits a safe deposit box in a bank in Brussels."
I looked at the small brass key I had still kept tucked in my pocket. "And what's in that safety deposit box?"
"The name of the traitor," Victor replied. "The man who sold out the entire operation back then and who now sits at the highest level of government. Thomas knew that man would kill him if he found out the file still existed."
I remained silent. My whole world, my memories of forty years of marital bliss, seemed shaken to their foundations. Yet deep inside, I knew Thomas's love for me had been real. Everything he did was to keep me out of the line of fire.
"Where are we going now?" I asked.
"To a safe place outside the city," Victor said. "Tomorrow morning we leave for Brussels to open the safe deposit box. That's the only way to end this nightmare forever."
Around three in the morning, we arrived at a secluded forester's lodge deep in the forests of the Veluwe. The cottage was hidden among tall pines, and far and wide there was no street lighting to be seen.
Victor checked the grounds before letting us inside. The cottage was small, simple, and smelled of pine wood and dry peat. There was no television, no internet, and on Victor's orders, we had to immediately turn off our mobile phones and remove the batteries.
"Get some rest," Victor said as he draped a blanket over my shoulders. "I'll keep watch."
Elena soon fell asleep on the old couch in the living room, exhausted by the day's events. But I couldn't find sleep. I sat by the small window and stared out at the black trees swaying in the wind.
I took the wooden box and pulled out the leather notebook. I turned the first page. It was Thomas's diary.
As I read the faded ink, I came across a passage that made my blood run cold:
'If I don't survive this, know that there is only one person I have entrusted my key to. Not Victor. Victor has been working for the opposing side for years. If he is with you, Maria… then run as fast as you can.'
I slowly looked up from the book. In the reflection of the dark window, I saw Victor standing behind me. In his hand, he held the pistol aimed straight at my back…
* * *
