He shook when his phone vibrated in his pocket and kept his eyes on Bibby while he answered.
“Abel,” said Gerricks. “Listen, there isn’t much time. Your girlfriend called. Ida.”
“Ida?” said Frederich, sitting up in his seat.
“Yeah. She’s in trouble, said Vidrik is after her.”
Frederich’s grip around the phone tightened. Vidrik.
“Where is she?” he said.
“In Paris. I’m going to send you a web address where you can follow her coordinates. I’ve got her GPS connected to our server.”
“Ok. I’m still in London. Can you send someone in the meant—”
“No fucking way,” Gerricks interjected. “You know we can’t do that. Everyone’s tied up. I shouldn’t even be wasting time telling you this.”
“Shit,” whispered Frederich.
“Gotta go. Good luck.”
The call ended abruptly.
Frederich stopped breathing. A suffocating pressure clamped down on his temples like a vice, grinding against his skull, pushing him deeper into the abyss where the fires of hell had blown wide open. He burst out of the car, leaving the door open, and stomped across the road. The front door of the Stern and Dolly was held open by a pair of men preparing to go home, and Frederich forced his way past them.
Bibby was still on his stool, but the grin had left his face. He lifted his head, staring directly at Frederich, who had reached into his pocket and drawn his pistol. Screams broke out, and people scrambled in every direction. As Frederich prepared to pull the trigger, a mysterious hand pushed his arm up from the side, causing the bullet to fire into the air. Frederich began tussling with the invader, while Bibby sprang up and ran in his direction before roundhouse kicking him in the stomach with such force that his guts exploded with pain and he went crashing through the front window before his head smacked into the concrete, leaving him temporarily disoriented. He rolled to his side over the broken glass and groaned, trying to focus on the enormous figure emerging from inside. Bibby was thick all over, with large chunks of muscle creating an armour over his entire body. He had a wrinkled forehead, a long angled nose and uneven eyes accompanied by thick, slanted eyebrows. He grunted and stepped forward, now holding a crowbar. Frederich struggled up onto his feet, lightheaded but oozing with adrenaline.
Bibby approached and Frederich shuffled to the side, dodging the crowbar which came toward his head. Bibby swung over and again, grunting each time. Meanwhile, the crowd had emerged from inside, emboldened by Bibby’s offensive, and they encircled the pair as they stood locked in battle. The smartphones came out immediately, with at least a dozen cameras suddenly pointed in Frederich’s direction. One of them flashed in Frederich’s face as someone took a picture, momentarily blinding him, followed by another swing of Bibby’s crowbar. Frederich felt the metal brush against the top of his head as he scurried to dodge it, falling to the ground in the process. Bibby tried to stomp on his hip while he was down, forcing him to roll to the side. He scrambled back to his feet, panting loudly, his attention scattered by the chaos around him. The shouting grew hysterical, as each person vied for an unobstructed view of the fight. An attack could now come from any direction if someone was feeling bold enough. Focus, came Kraas’ voice, just like it always had when Frederich’s senses got the better of him during an especially challenging training sequence. He clenched his fists tight enough for them to ache then pushed his feet into the ground and bent his knees, breathing deeply into his core. Bibby snickered and approached, while a woman pushed her smartphone out to film closer to the action. Frederich snatched it from her and tossed it at Bibby, hitting him in the forehead.
“Hey!” yelled the woman.
Bibby scowled and raised his hand to touch the place of impact.
“You dirty bastard!” he yelled, a mark appearing where the phone had hit him.
“Get him, Bibby!” said the woman whose phone now lay smashed on the ground.
“Teach that flog a lesson!” someone else yelled out from the crowd.
Frederich narrowed his focus further, filtering out everything but the monster in front of him. Once he weaved out of the way of another crowbar attack, he went on the offensive, landing punch after punch into Bibby’s body then jabbing him in the nose and landing a stiff hook into his chin. He went deeper inside himself, channelling his rage into each attack, landing them with more and more ease as he lost himself in a furious flow. Bibby was unable to keep up, and his attempts to block Frederich’s attacks fell further out of sync as Frederich exposed every vulnerable area he could find. A point came when Bibby stopped resisting, swaying to the side, straightening up again, then finally collapsing to the ground, his face bloodied. By now Frederich was too far gone, leaping onto Bibby and piling a flurry of punches into the barely conscious man’s face. He momentarily lost touch with his body as it came, before he blacked out.
When he came back he had multiple hands holding him tightly in place. He looked around and noticed that he was in the grip of four men, while Bibby lay motionless on the ground. Frederich’s rapid
