Chapter 21 -- A day of reckoning
Prime Minister Vladim Dukov did not have much time to contemplate the fate of the Royal Family. His cell phone went off while he was still in the throne room talking to the Priestess. When he checked the number he realized it was a call from an agent working for the Danubian Secret Police. The agent reported that eight foreigners suddenly had checked out the historic Water View Suites, Danube City's only 5-star hotel. They had rushed to load their suitcases and briefcases into the back of a rented van, tossing several 50 Euro notes at the bellhops before speeding off. Obviously the bellhops were happy about the overly-generous tips, but having the money thrown at them in such a manner was an insult in Danubian culture. If a person wants to give anything to another person in Danubia, the item is always handed to the recipient, never tossed. The bellhops commented about the insult to their supervisor, who happened to be a covert agent of the Secret Police.
Dukov called the Danubian Rural Patrol to see if any rural police officers had seen a van with eight passengers traveling north of Danube City. Sure enough, within a few minutes a cop at a checkpoint called back to respond that he had seen a vehicle matching the description headed north towards Danubia's border. The main crossing was only about 50 minutes to the north if a vehicle drove along the main highway, but it was well-guarded. Dukov suspected the driver would turn off the main road, head east, and escape using one of several secondary crossings that exited through the mountains that formed the border along the country's northernmost province. The province itself was covered with small farms, fruit orchards, and villages; all connected by a maze of service roads and paths. If the vehicle managed to get into that area, finding it would be almost impossible, and there would be numerous escape routes from which the foreigners could choose.
Fortunately for the Prime Minister, the Grand Duke liked motorcycles and had several expensive ones stored in the garage of the Royal Residence. Vladik and his partner knew how to ride, so they were able to get on the road immediately. They sped out of the Royal Compound, kicking up dust as they tore off towards the main road. With luck they would be able to catch up to the van before it got too deeply into the farming area. They entered the main highway and hit the gas. The motorcycles were expensive racing cycles and were able to move very fast. Vladik knew they would be much less useful on dirt roads, but he hoped to intercept the van before it got off the paved area.
Vladik called for backup as he and his partner swerved around a moving obstacle course of trucks, buses, and farmers' pickups. The two cops passed the checkpoint where the van was last seen and were joined by four Rural Patrol cops riding standard Ministry of Justice motorcycles. The six officers exited the main highway where the road turned east, confident about the Prime Minister's guess that the van would leave the main road. If it had not turned, the customs officials at the crossing would be there to intercept it.
The road east led through some steep hills before descending into the flat farm country that lay beyond. Unlike the main highway, the farm road was completely deserted because it was Sunday morning. The six cops swerved along the curves as they climbed towards the summit of the ridge. Close to the summit they saw the van, but the occupants also saw them. A man with a semi-automatic weapon stood up through the sun-roof and fired at the police officers. One of the highway patrol officers took a shot in the shoulder and nearly wiped out. Vladik signaled for him to pull off and for one of the other patrol officers to stop to administer first aid.
The remaining four cops fell back to allow a bend in the road to temporarily conceal them from the semi-automatic. They pulled out their revolvers and sped up, with the hope of shooting the van's wheels before they had to fall back again. As soon as the van was in sight they emptied their pistols in unison, blowing out one of the rear tires and hitting the gas tank. A lucky shot also hit the man with the semi-automatic. He dropped the weapon and it fell tumbling onto the road. Vladik's partner had to swerve to avoid it and nearly lost control of her motorcycle.
As Vladik and his three remaining companions reloaded their weapons and closed in on the van for the third time, they noticed the trail of gasoline that was dribbling out of the hole in the tank. The van was kicking up sparks and swerving. Several more shots flew past them and they fell back. The cops realized that they no longer needed to stay within firing range of the vehicle because, without one of its rear tires, there was no chance it could travel much further. The pursuit, if there was to be one, would be on foot. The cops would stay just within sight of the van and wait for it to stop and the foreigners to flee. Then the officials would try to pin them down with fire and wait for back-up to arrive to make the arrest.
It turned out there would be no foot pursuit and no arrest. There was a flash as sparks from the bare wheel rim ignited the gas dribbling out of the tank. The driver lost control and the van spun off the side of the road, tumbling over and over as it rolled down the hill. The vehicle landed on its roof, crushing the occupants. As though to make sure the Mega-Town plotters were indeed dead, the gas tank exploded.
Vladik knew there was no hope that anyone inside the van could have survived the wreck and the fire that followed. He still felt it was necessary to go down the hill, just to be absolutely sure no potential survivors had been thrown clear of the vehicle as it went off the road. He left his partner to stand guard over the motorcycles and with the two patrol officers started to descend into the ravine. Even where they were, the officers were able to feel the heat from the fire and smell the burning flesh of the crash victims. There were several secondary explosions, followed by a flash and a sudden increase flames coming from within the wreck. Much later, investigators would speculate that the occupants were transporting several containers of extra gasoline, presumably to avoid having to stop for fuel. The additional gas added to the extreme heat of the fire and scorched the corpses.
The remains of the wreck burned very hot for the next several minutes. Without any firefighting equipment, there was nothing the cops could do about the van. Anyhow, Vladik's main concern was the injured Rural Patrol officer. He ordered his companions to mount their motorcycles and return to the spot where the injured cop had been left behind with the man treating him. Vladik tried to contact them using his radio, but the hills prevented transmission. He realized something important, that no radio traffic about the final moments of the chase had been overheard by Central Command.
On their way back, Vladik's partner retrieved the semi-automatic that had fallen during the shootout, and a few minutes later Vladik and the others rejoined the two patrol officers. The officer who had been shot had a serious injury, but it would not be life-threatening if the others could get him to a hospital within the next hour. That was not a problem, because there was a clinic just a few kilometers away, heading back in the direction of the main highway. The injured man gave Vladik a perfect justification to leave the crash site. Obviously his life was more important than the burning vehicle. Vladik took over one of the patrol motorcycles and ordered the others to strap the injured man to his back.
The cops parked one of the Grand Duke's motorcycles in the bushes before returning to the clinic they had passed on the way up. The clinic was open (in Danubia all medical clinics are public and must have at least one staff member on-duty at all times). There was yet more luck for the officers, because a group of surgeons had just finished another operation. The injured cop was safely in the operating room minutes after his companions brought him to the clinic.
Vladik realized that because of a very unique set of circumstances there was absolutely no evidence that eight employees of Mega-Town Associates had just been killed a few kilometers up the road. The fire and multiple explosions had destroyed everything identifying who had been in the van, because the fire was so hot that it would even partially melt the metal parts of the vehicle. As the officers were waiting for news from the operating room, the corpses in the burning wreck were being cremated. Such heat also would incinerate any indication that the crash had been preceded by a shoot-out. The road had been deserted during the chase; not a single civilian had witnessed a white van with eight foreign passengers being pursued by six cops on motorcycles. The burning wreckage was not visible from the road unless someone stopped and looked over the edge. The accompanying patrol officers had no clue who was in the van; they simply joined the chase because Vladik had radioed for assistance.
As for the Mega-Town employees, they had entered Danubia using false passports, so there was no reason why anyone at the US or Brazilian embassies would want to inquire about missing citizens. According to official records the occupants of the van never entered Danubia, so there was no reason for the embassies to inquire about their disappearance. They never existed in the first place.
