Someone else spoke then. ‘Drop the gun,’ the knifeman said.
Tayte’s eyes were locked on Fleischer’s, reading the situation between them. In his peripheral vision he saw that the man with the knife had Jean again.
Jean called out. ‘Don’t you dare!’ she said, and Tayte knew she was right. If he dropped the gun now, they were both as good as dead.
‘Tell your friend to drop his knife,’ Tayte told Fleischer, his tone firm.
Fleischer scoffed. ‘He never listens to me.’
Tayte shoved the muzzle of the gun harder into Fleischer’s chest. ‘So we’ll wait here like this until the police arrive. Who do you think set the fire alarm off? There isn’t a fire, and it didn’t go off by accident.’
Fleischer’s expression soured, and Tayte saw in his eyes that he had him beat. A second later Fleischer raised his hands higher.
‘Lass die Frau gehen,’ Fleischer said, and the knifeman let Jean go. She took his knife from him and tossed it across the room, where it became lost in the debris that was now Tobias Kaufmann’s main office.
‘Now tell the big guy to back off,’ Tayte demanded, and once he had, Tayte snarled at Fleischer and added, ‘Now get off me!’
He kept the gun trained on Fleischer the whole time, and slowly, carefully, they disentangled themselves from one another until they were standing several feet apart, the gun locked in Tayte’s grasp between them.
‘Now I want you to empty your pockets,’ Tayte said. ‘All of you!’ He didn’t want any surprises. ‘Throw everything down onto the floor where you’re standing and walk slowly to the back of the room.’
To Tayte’s surprise there were no complaints. Fleischer and his men did exactly as they were told. Jean came and stood beside him.
‘I feel sick,’ Tayte said, quietly out of the corner of his mouth.
‘Hang in there. You’re doing great.’
Together they watched Fleischer and his gang unload their pockets: more knives, a set of brass knuckles from the muscleman, some coins and the keys to their motorcycles. Jean picked up one of the knives and went over to the man who was lying bound and gagged on the floor. She cut him loose and without saying a word he ran from the room as though it really was on fire.
‘Now move,’ Tayte said to Fleischer and his men, flicking the gun towards the back of the room. Since he did now have the gun, he didn’t plan to run or let anyone go. He hoped it was Tobias who had set off the fire alarm, and he hoped he really had called the police. In which case, all Tayte figured he had to do was to keep everyone there until help arrived. He followed the gang slowly towards the back of the room until they reached the door to the Strobel room. It was already open and Tayte could see from the mess beyond that they had already been to work in there.
‘Inside!’ Tayte said, and as Fleischer backed into the room after his men, his eyes locked on Tayte with a hateful stare.
‘I’m going to find you,’ Fleischer said. ‘And when I do, I’m—’
‘Yeah, yeah. Whatever,’ Tayte said, cutting him short. He stepped closer to reassert his command of the situation, forcing Fleischer back into the room until Tayte was standing in the doorway, ready to close it on them. ‘Just get in there. I’m tired of your threats.’
Tayte was about to shut the door when he heard the main office door open.
‘The police are on their way,’ Tobias called in, and the distraction, which had served Tayte so well before, now served Fleischer.
Tayte lost his concentration for just a second, but it was long enough for Fleischer to turn the situation to his advantage. As Tayte’s eyes fixed on him again, he saw Fleischer dodge to his left in a blur so as to avoid any bullet Tayte might have had time to fire. But Tayte did not have time because Fleischer’s next move sent Tayte’s gun hand smashing into the edge of the aluminium door frame. It sent such a shock of pain through him that he was forced to let go of the gun. It clattered to the floor somewhere inside the Strobel room and Tayte knew he wouldn’t be able to get to it first this time. As Fleischer turned to retrieve it, Tayte slammed the door shut.
‘Go!’ he called to Jean and Tobias, and in his next breath he pulled a filing cabinet over so that it was partially blocking the door. He turned to see Jean fumbling among the clutter, wondering what on earth she was looking for. Then as he ran to her he saw that she’d picked up a set of motorcycle keys. A shot was fired, and behind them now as they went, Tayte could hear the metallic thump of the door to the Strobel room being kicked against the filing cabinet. He knew it would only hold the gang back for a few seconds.
They caught up with a confused Tobias Kaufmann in the stairwell. Tayte grabbed his arm. ‘We’ve got to get out of here!’ he said. ‘Where’s Amir?’
‘He took off,’ Tobias said. ‘That’s why I came up. The police are—’