Someone was trying the door-handle.
Without waiting any longer, she turned herself around, closed the kitchen door gently behind her, and maneuvered herself carefully down the five concrete steps from the kitchen door into the garden.
She could hear the doorbell ringing, and the door being pushed rather hard against its hinges. Someone was calling her name through the letterbox.
By now she was outside. The grass was long and overgrown: what was once a lawn, but now more like wild field, led back about a hundred and fifty feet to some trees at the bottom of the garden. About half way down there was a red shed, dirty and falling apart. The grass reached up about two feet high, flowering weeds giving the effect of a wild summer meadow in the hills.
When Dana had first seen the garden she had considered it a mess. But now, she hoped it could be her friend and salvation. Using all her strength, she swung herself through the long, clinging grass, her crutches finding support on the hard stony ground underneath.
Within seconds she had made it to the garden hut, where she swung herself around to the far side and dived into the long, tall grass, lying as flat as possible. She pulled the metal crutches under her stomach, and gasping for breath, tried to rearrange the long grass so that it once again stood tall and proud above her prone body, hiding her from view.
Although from this side of the hut she couldn't see the house, she correctly interpreted the sound of a man jumping over the garden wall, having walked around the side of the building to the wall that separated the front garden from the back.
She held her breath, not moving an inch.
She could hear the man walking up the stairs to the kitchen, and trying the door. It opened, and she heard his footsteps go inside.
Then there were the sounds of a second person landing on the concrete, having followed the other one over the wall.
"Pete?" she heard the man call.
"Yeah?" answered the voice of the first man re-emerging from the house. "There's no one inside…she must have scarpered just in time."
"Too bad…listen, that was Control on the cell phone…they said they just intercepted a call between her and her husband. He was warning her that we were on our way. He told her to get out as soon as possible, and to meet him in Wilmington at the ticket booths at the train station. That was about five minutes ago. She'll be well on her way by now…"
"Yeah, so what do we do?"
Dana couldn't see anything, but the voice of the man called Pete sounded as if it came from a big man. She imagined him to be powerful, and deadly.
The other man sounded smaller, less powerful, but probably just as deadly.
"They said, if she's gone, to leave it. Not to follow up or pursue them in a public place. We'll have to pick her up at another time…C'mon. Let's get out of here."
Dana could hear them clambering over the wall, and in the distance she could make out the sound of the van engine starting and driving off. She breathed out, took a sharp intake of breath and let her face fall onto the ground.
Only now did she begin to shake and to cry softly to herself, whimpering without sound, not trusting herself to stand up or make a move just in case they were conning her and were actually waiting for her to emerge from the undergrowth or wherever else she was hiding.
After five minutes she slowly pulled the cell phone out her pocket and dialed Kerrin's number. There was no answer. His phone was switched off.
Dana lay there in the grass, crying louder now, the tears streaming down her cheek and disappearing into the dirt under her face. She had never felt so alone. Unmoving, she lay hidden in the grass for Kerrin to come and rescue her, to take away the fear and make it all go away.
--------------------
They drove up to the entrance to the train station, making no attempt to park properly. With the engine still running, and the key still in the ignition, Kerrin jumped out of the car.
"Stay here…Don't move…" Kerrin shouted through the open door at Sandy.
Kerrin raced into the arrivals hall at the station, turning his head from side to side as he ran, dodging the busy commuters milling around inside the station. Where were the ticket booths?
There…over in the far corner.
He bumped into a large black lady, knocking two large hat boxes from her hands. Apologizing profusely, he backed away from her towards the far corner of the hall, leaving her to pick up the boxes by herself.
Commuters were streaming from one of the arrival gates, just having arrived on a local train from Philadelphia. He fought his way through them, but arriving at the ticket booths, he found no trace of Dana. Two lines stood in front of the three service points in the wall. The third booth was closed, a large arrow on a white board on the counter pointing to the window beside it.
Kerrin turned around, scanning the busy hall. Dana was nowhere to be seen. There was a café in the middle of the station, and Kerrin ran over to it. He ran inside, but only found two couples and an old man reading a paper.
He checked at the ticket booths once again, then ran back outside.
A police officer was standing beside his car, arguing with Sandy and pointing at the sign on the wall, which made it clear that this was a no parking zone.
Ignoring the police officer, Kerrin jumped back into the driving seat and spun the car around, driving back out of the station.
"Five minutes from your house? It's taken us fifteen minutes to get here…she's not here! She must have been caught…or if she's putting up a struggle, they might still be at your house. We've got to get there fast!"
"Okay, but follow my instructions. We'll take a short cut…Take the first road right." Sandy replied.
Following her every instruction Kerrin made it to her house in four minutes. Jumping out the car as soon as it stopped moving, they raced up the stairs. Kerrin pushed on the front door. It was closed. He rang the doorbell, and while Sandy inserted her house key into the lock, Kerrin looked through the window from the front garden into the living room.
It was empty.
"Let me go first…" Kerrin said, gently pushing Sandy aside and easing his way ahead of her.
Inside the house Kerrin quickly made his way from room to room, opening the cupboard doors and checking inside. The ground floor was empty. He raced upstairs, taking the steps two at a time and pulling himself up with his hand on the banister. No luck upstairs either. The house was empty. Dana was gone.
"Kerrin…down here quickly!" Sandy shouted.
Kerrin found her in the kitchen, pulling Dana's wheelchair out from underneath the table.
"That's odd…why's it folded up?"
He looked up and noticing that the kitchen door was slightly ajar, he stepped past Sandy and emerged out into the garden. Apart from the long overgrown grass and rusty, falling down shed, it was empty. Dana was nowhere to be seen.
"Shit!!!" Kerrin swore aloud. "We're too late…they must have taken her!"
Kerrin sunk to his knees, throwing his head backwards and screaming at the sky.
"Sandy…I'll fucking kill them…I swear it…when I catch them…if they've harmed one hair on her head…”
Suddenly there was a voice in front of him.
"Kerrin?…KERRIN?"
He looked up and he saw Dana emerging on crutches from the long grass behind the shed.
Her hair was tussled and her dress was muddy and crumpled, but when Kerrin saw her he realized she had never looked more beautiful in all her life.
She was safe.
Chapter 26
Day Seventeen
Philadelphia
"Are you sure she'll be okay?" Dana asked Kerrin for the tenth time.
"Of course she will. They'll never go back to Sandy’s house. They were looking for you, not for her. And besides, from what you told me about what they said on the cell phone to their superiors, they are not looking for any unnecessary publicity. I'm beginning to get a feel for how they work now…no, Sandy will be okay."
Of course, Kerrin was
lying. There was no way that he could guarantee that Sandy would be safe in her own home. And he had no idea how 'they' operated. He didn't even know who 'they' were. But what could Kerrin do, apart from telling Sandy to leave town for a few days, which she'd reluctantly agreed to do.
Kerrin and Dana had gathered up Dana's things as fast as possible, then waited for Sandy to pack some clothes into a case, before driving her back to the University and dropping her off at her car. After a quick hug and a few tears from Dana, Kerrin and Dana had headed north.
They had driven for over an hour, almost randomly, talking and crying, connecting and catching up again. Kerrin told her everything that had happened in South Africa, and about the visits that had been paid to his office by the FBI and the CIA. He made Dana tell him again exactly what had happened to her that afternoon, getting her to repeat the exact words the intruders had said to each other and to the person who had given the orders to them on the phone.
"They said they had intercepted my call from Sandy's office to her cell phone? How the hell could they do that? Who are these people?"
"Kerrin, it's been an urban legend for years that the NSA could listen to every single phone conversation that takes place in the States. Maybe it's no legend…"
"No, it's true, but they tape millions of calls every day. To be able to identify and monitor our calls so quickly and to filter them out from all the rest, shit, that takes some doing! These people have got to be really well connected to be able to do it."
"Who do you think they are?"
"I don't know…if not the CIA, then maybe the FBI, or some other secret government organization…but from now on we have to lie low, and not call anyone we know…or if we do…we can't reveal anything to them about where we are…"
"What do we do now?"
Kerrin looked around him. They were driving through the suburb of Cherry Hill, New Jersey.
"We'll find a motel, and check in. I'm dead beat. I didn't sleep at all on the plane last night. I've been running on adrenaline for the past few hours, but now I'm calming down a bit, I'm exhausted. We need to get some food, and some rest."
"And then?"
"Tomorrow, we start getting smart. Until now, I've just been asking questions, but today they made it personal…so tomorrow, instead of them looking for us, we're going to go after them! And when I find the people responsible for Martin's death, I promise you, I'll kill the bastards."
Dana put her hand on his, and smiled sympathetically. She didn't know what else to do. She had never seen Kerrin so angry before. He wasn't a violent man. He wasn't a killer. She prayed it wouldn't come to that.
The Sunshine Villa's motel complex was quite new, the rooms clean, bright and smart. Each room had its own computer and internet connection, and although it was quite expensive, it was just what Kerrin was looking for. He pulled out his credit card, and signed the invoice using his new name, Mark Twain.
Dinner consisted of take-away pizza and a few beers. While Dana soaked in a hot bath, Kerrin started to look through the information Paul had brought to him from the Wunderkind. While he was scanning the contents of the file, he suddenly remembered the other information that James had given to him when he had last seen him alive in Miami. He reached into the bottom of the travel bag he had taken to South Africa with him and pulled out the transparent folder containing the details of the phone calls made to and from the Roberts' house on the night of his death. Inside the folder he found a small brown envelope.
He emptied it on the bed, picking up and studying the contents. David Sonderheim's face stared back at him from a color photocopy of his driving license. Kerrin walked through to the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bath.
"Look…this is the man who knows all the answers. " He held out his hand, holding the photocopy of the driving license in front of her face. She studied it carefully, her eyes squinting as she focused on the man in the photograph with the red hair.
"David Sonderheim. Founder of the Gen8tyx Company. From what Alex told me before he was killed, he's the number one suspect behind all the murders. If we can find him, then we'll be one step closer to getting to the bottom of all this."
Dana slipped backwards underneath the water, wiping the soapy water out of her eyes and smoothing her wet hair out across the top of her head with the palms of her hands. Pulling herself up with her hands on the side of the bath, she emerged from the water again and looked up at Kerrin, cocking her head to one side.
"Leave Mr David Sonderheim until tomorrow." She reached out and pulled his hand gently towards her…"Get in!…That's an order. I think you need a wash…"
Sometimes Kerrin knew better than to argue with his wife. The Gen8tyx Company could wait until another day. Kerrin slid the driving licence back into the file on the bed, took off his clothes and on his way back to the bathroom he grabbed another two bottles of cold beer from the fridge.
"How come I always get the end with the taps?" he complained, as he slid into the water beside her.
"Shut up, Kerrin Graham. If you don't like your end, stop complaining and come here and give me a kiss."
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New York
Day Seventeen
1 p.m. that afternoon.
Rupert Rohloff stared out at the Statue of Liberty from his executive office in the Rohloff Tower. He had just taken a call from Washington.
The view across the water was magnificent at this time of day. He stood beside the window, his hands clasped behind his back, his mind pondering the conversation he had just had with his superior. The board meeting of the Chymera Corporation was taking place in just over a week. From the latest reports he had reviewed only this morning, the Phase Two trials of the Orlando Treatment were yielding results. Remarkable results. He was confident they would have a lot to report, and that his boss would be pleased with their progress.
The intercom on his desk buzzed, and without moving from his position, Rupert simply said 'Speak', and the office speech recognition system switched on the loudspeaker.
"Rupert, Mr Small is here to see you. Shall I show him in?"
It was fortunate that Rupert had moved his meeting with Nigel Small up a week. Rupert had correctly anticipated that in light of the recent events, the board meeting would be brought forward. He prided himself on always being ahead of the game. In business, it was the only way to maintain the strategic advantage, and in business, holding the strategic advantage, whatever the cost, was the key to success.
Recent events in Iraq, the destruction of one of the world's largest oilfields, and the subsequent change of relations with Iran would significantly impact the Chymera strategy to the Middle East. Some hard decisions had to be made. Would Chymera endorse and permit OPEC's new pricing, or would they decide to move to the next phase of oil production in Antarctica? Of course, no one knew of Chymera's secret drilling operation in Antarctica. That they had been able to keep the operation secret from the world was in itself an indication of the power they now held, and the influence which they could yield across international politics and commerce.
But the most interesting item on the agenda would surely be the results of the Orlando Project Phase Two trials. Rupert knew that there were those on the board who were looking forward to Phase Three as much as he was. Indeed, he knew of at least two people who without Phase Three, would be forced to step down from the board, in light of the fact that their future would probably be very short indeed.
Rupert considered making Nigel Small wait a little longer, but glancing at the clock on the wall above his desk, he saw that it was already later than he would like. He had a lot to do today, but he wanted to make sure he gave as much time to the Gen8tyx affair as it required. He was actually looking forward to Small's report.
"Deborah, please send him in."
Nigel Small, contrary to the image his name may project, was a giant of a man. According to his file, he had played pro-football for three years, making himself millions of dollars in
the process. He was as shrewd a man as he was large. When a broken leg had forced early retirement, he had invested his money wisely, and had built a powerful business. His achievements were not to be compared with those of Rupert's, but for any other man, they were admirable.
Rupert had always suspected that there was more to Nigel than there seemed. In recent years, his business empire had grown considerably, perhaps faster than would ordinarily have been expected from any normal, successful entrepreneur. Rupert's contacts had fed him some useful information on Nigel's interesting business strategy. If his contacts were right, Rupert would be best advised not to underestimate the man. He could be dangerous.
"Nigel, thank you for coming. Please sit, make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you tea, coffee, perhaps something stronger?"
Rupert was a gracious host. Even if the hospitality was an act, those who were invited to meet the man always commented on his manners. Few realized that behind the warm welcome, was a calculated effort to allow Rupert to exert his power over his guests, to put them off guard, and to dominate their presence.
Nigel Small was not a stupid man however. He recognized the cold calculating eyes behind the famous Rohloff smile, and although he played along, he never let himself be fooled or lulled into a false sense of security or cordiality. Every meeting between these two men was a game of poker. A game which Nigel was honest enough to admit he seldom won. One day, he promised himself, that would change.
"So…I am looking forward to hearing your report on the Phase Two trials. Very much. But before you do, please update me on the situation in Miami and Orlando. In particular, I would also like to understand why I was not informed of the incident in South Africa?"
Rupert's opening card immediately threw Nigel off balance. How had he known about Alex Swinton's execution so quickly? It had only been two days ago?
"I apologize. There was no intention of not informing you. I just wanted to update you face-to-face. And to give you the good news personally."
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