Kraas only chuckled and shut his eyes. He began snoring soon after, leaving his half-empty glass of Vana Tallinn on the table. Frederich had remained there that evening, deep in thought. He had noticed Kraas' reluctance to say more. It might have been the Vana Tallinn, but Frederich knew his crafty father well. He was hiding something. The next day Frederich asked again about The League, but Kraas told him not to get hung up on conspiracy stories. Frederich continued to press the matter in the coming weeks but Kraas only grew more irritated. Frederich reluctantly let it go, but remained curious.
Years later when he moved to Tallinn he would research the events of ‘The Worldwide Horror’ with fervid fascination. It was an unprecedented event. The assassinations were brazen and skilfully executed. A sniper hit on a billionaire businessman in daylight in Manhattan. A member of parliament suffocated in his sleep. Knife attacks. Car bombings. Poisonings. Fatal beatings. The League Of Reckoning was a terror organisation of unimaginable scope and capable of unhinged brutality. Now Frederich found himself questioning whether he had killed one of its members.
He opened a new browser window and searched for ‘Jochen Weisman.’ He clicked on an article titled ‘Award-Winning Journalist Jochen Weisman Dead.’ It was dated three weeks after the exposé on Elias Khartoum. Weisman had died on his way home from work after his Audi TT collided with a tree. Drug and alcohol readings had returned nothing. TZ Daily ran a tribute article on Weisman’s career, calling him a ‘courageous, one-of-a-kind journalist’ while praising his ‘groundbreaking investigations into political corruption and organised crime.’ When Frederich finished reading he raised his eyebrows. He knew not to believe in coincidence.
He felt a dull pressure in his head. The situation had taken a dangerous turn, above all for Ida, he suddenly realised. If no evidence came to light tying him to the killing, he could walk away. Ida did not share that luxury. He went to the window and looked out. She was still on the bench, staring into space, unaware that things were about to get far worse for her. He frowned. This was the last thing she needed. The second she left his building she would likely be hunted by what could be the most vicious and dominant organisation in the world.
Frederich’s mind began ticking rapidly, processing the situation from every angle. Tallinn. Kraas. Berlin. Ida. Khartoum. The League. It dawned on Frederich that he was just as involved as Ida was. He took his phone out and made a long overdue phone call. It dialled for a long time before there was an answer.
“Hello?” said Johannes with his husky voice.
“Hi, Johannes. It’s me. Frederich.”
“Frederich?” said Johannes with a tone of disbelief. “Oh, my boy, thank goodness. We’ve all been so worried about you.”
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
“Are you in Tallinn?”
“No. I’m in..” He paused. It was probably safer not to tell Johannes where he was, considering what he had just learnt. “I can’t say where I am. I just wanted you to know that I’m safe.”
“Oh, Frederich. What’s going on? We never had a chance to talk after Kraas died.”
“There wasn’t much to say, I guess. I just had to leave.”
“I understand. It was a difficult day. Are you well?”
“Yes, I’m ok. How are you doing?”
“Huh,” said Johannes, coughing and clearing his throat. “You know me. Carrying on.”
Frederich’s mouth softened into a smile.
“Good,” he said.
“It’s strange not having your father around. There’s nobody to go hunting with anymore.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Frederich softly. “Hey, Johannes?”
“Yes, my boy?”
“Did you and Kraas ever talk about me?”
“Talk? Of course. All the time.”
“I mean, about my future. Did Kraas ever tell you what he wanted for me?”
“Well, I… I think he had no idea, now that I think about it. He worried about you. But you know your father. He was a soldier. A simple man. He served the people, but he never liked to tell anyone what to do.”
“Yeah,” said Frederich. “That sounds like him. Thanks, Johannes.”
“Are you coming home soon?”
Frederich looked down again to where Ida was sitting.
“Not for a while. There’s something I need to do.”
“Huh!” exclaimed Johannes, clearing his throat again. “Just like your father.”
Frederich chuckled lightly.
“I’ll come to visit as soon as I can. We’ll go hunting.”
“I’ll be here. Look after yourself, my boy.”
“You too.”
Frederich closed the connection with a sense of lightness. Just like your father. He had been aimlessly drifting since Kraas died. He was now ashamed to admit how close he was to giving up. If he had not heard Ida’s scream, who knows what would have happened? In any case, he felt differently now. Khartoum had been the wake-up call he needed. Frederich had died in the water under Khartoum’s weight, and then returned — but not unchanged. With the memory of Ida trembling and weeping in his arms, he thought up a plan which would seem insane to a reasonable person. To Frederich, it made perfect sense. He took a long, deep breath, and finalised his decision. His time in the wind was coming to a close. He stared into the void with full knowledge of what he had to do.
Step one: find a way to make contact with The League.
Step two: admit to killing Elias Khartoum.
Step three: ask for a job, and finally,
Step four: negotiate Ida’s freedom.
6
Frederich went out into the yard and found Ida on the bench, gazing at the flower bed, her arms stretched behind her for support. She seemed unbothered by the tiny droplets of drizzle which had collected on her face and the top of her hair. Frederich wiped an
