Maria realised that the stone-built structure was more some kind of workshop rather than a barn. The window was glazed with a reasonably new pane, but the glass was thick with grime which had gathered in particular density around the corners. Maria strained to hear anything from inside, but the wind had picked up and the glass muted any sound. Cradling the butt of her automatic with both hands, she eased forward, craning her neck to see through the edge of the window. She snapped her head back from the window and stood with her back to the wall. Her mind raced to analyse the split second’s worth of information she had taken in. Molokov was in there, with at least three henchmen. No sign of Vitrenko, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in there, hidden from view. Maria fought to keep her breath under control and her thoughts in order. Now was the time to start thinking like a police officer again. Fabel had always told them that the first duty of a police officer was to stand between the innocent and harm, between chaos and order. Maria knew that someone was about to die, probably horrifically, and within the next few minutes.

Maria’s snatched glance through the window had picked up someone who should not have been there. A man sitting on a chair in the middle of the room with his hands out of sight, presumably tied behind his back. He had been surrounded by the others, including Molokov. Torture would come first. Then death.

Maria pulled the radio from the inside pocket of her thick black coat. She would have to risk using it. She turned the volume as low as was practical, given the increasing whine of the wind.

‘Olga … come in, Olga …’

Silence.

‘Olga … come in …’ Maria’s voice was now desperate.

‘Maria – where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get you. Taras’s radio is still dead too …’

‘They’ve got him, Olga …’

‘What?’

‘They’ve got Taras. I think they’re going to kill him.’

‘My God – what are we going to do?’

‘We’re out of our depth, Olga. I need to become a police officer again. We need to do this right. I want you to phone the Cologne police right now and tell them that you’re a Kiev militia officer and that a Hamburg Murder Commission Commissar needs urgent assistance at this location. Tell them that we’ve got Vasyl Vitrenko pinned down here and the BKA Task Force will want to be here as well. But for God’s sake tell them to hurry.’

‘I’ve got it … I’ll do it now, Maria. Are you safe?’

‘For the moment. But I’m going to have to do something if the local police don’t get here before these bastards start on Taras. Do it now.’