by A. D. Winch
Professor Schwarzkopf was feeling obstinate and mischievous.
“I am not helping you because I am opening the pods? That does not make sense.”
“No, I mean that you refuse to tell us how to open the pods.”
“Well, it is difficult to explain, but if you are willing to follow my instructions exactly then I will tell you.”
His sudden willingness to share took them all aback and left them speechless.
Professor Schwarzkopf was feeling in a good mood. He had been compliant for years. Every time he had been told to do something he did it, from school onwards. Now it felt good to be naughty.
“You will need to stand in a line facing the pod,” he began. “You have tried numerous different ways to open the pods but you have never used movement. This is alien technology and as such it responds to how you move rather than touch. I have discovered over years of dedicated and repetitive study that a particular group of movements opens the pods. In much the same way as a password opens up a computer or a pin code allows you to access your bank account. Do you understand?”
The scientists nodded in agreement.
“In that case we shall begin. Put your left leg in,” he paused as if trying to remember. “Put your left leg out.”
Each scientist followed his instructions exactly.
He spoke slowly, “In, out, in, out, now shake it all about, you do the…”
“Hold on,” shouted Kurtz approaching Professor Schwarzkopf. “What do you take us for?”
Before she had reached him, Professor Schwarzkopf opened the pods. He did not say anything once he had done it but simply looked towards it and pointed. Kurtz turned around and gazed at the opening. She was speechless once more. She could not believe that it had worked. When she turned back round to Professor Schwarzkopf, he had gone.
Professor Schwarzkopf entered the changing room. He picked up a towel and buried his face in an attempt to muffle his laughter. Tears ran down his cheeks, and his whole body shook happily. Only when the laughter brought on a coughing fit did he pull the towel away.
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***
Chapter 18 – Cologne Main Station
It was just after six in the morning and Cologne Main Station was starting to get busy. Under the curved glass roof, commuter trains were arriving and departing frequently. People rushed from white carriages onto spotless platforms and then out of the main station, weaving through commuters entering as they did so. Amongst those entering the station, were three agents. They were dressed identically in dark suits and white shirts. One carried a briefcase, the other a shoulder bag and the last a handbag. They approached the arrivals board and scanned it for the train to Amsterdam. None of them had been to Cologne before, or boarded a European train, but they moved as if they did this every day.
Pixels scattered on the board and wrote that the train to Amsterdam was due to arrive on schedule at six fourteen. They made their way to the correct platform and separated.
The long train to Amsterdam slowly pulled into the station and noisily stopped. It would stay at the platform for two minutes, and the three agents wasted no time. They found the sleeping wagon they were looking for and boarded. Two climbed on at one end of the carriage and the remaining agent at the other.
An aisle stretched between the two doors at both ends of the carriage. Large windows that looked onto the platform were on one side of the aisle. There were doors into the separate couchette compartments on the other. In one of them was their prey. They had come to hunt Black Queen and White King.
At the ends of the aisle, they placed miniature cameras on the ceiling and then all moved to the doorway separating the sleeping wagon from the next carriage.
“We go through here?” the lead agent asked the others.
The other two shrugged their shoulders.
The doors between the two carriages were stiff, and the lead agent had to yank the handle hard to open the doors. The gangway between the carriages was made up of metal plates on the floor, and flimsy material keeping it enclosed.
“A death trap,” muttered the lead agent to himself and walked through.
“Agents Carme, Arche and Carpo can you hear me?” asked Agent Hoover through the concealed ear pieces.
“Affirmative,” they replied in chorus.
They entered the next carriage and sat down on a group of four chairs around a fixed table.
“Check visual, Carpo,” Agent Hoover requested.
Agent Carpo opened the briefcase and looked at the computer inside. After tapping at the keyboard, two views of the corridor appeared on the screen.
Back in his surveillance room, Agent Hoover watched as the two corridor images appeared on screens in front of him. They joined the satellite ones of the train pulling out of Cologne Main Station.
“Good,” Agent Angel boomed, placing a vice like grip around Hoover’s shoulder. “You know the plan. Time for our agents to make amends for their colleagues’ failings in Italy. I have things to attend to, Hoover. If our agents seem to be struggling, in their task, to render Black Queen and White King, please keep me informed. I will leave it in your capable hands.”
His fingers loosened and he marched off. Hoover felt a breeze when Angel opened the door and left the room.
“Let’s get to work,” said Hoover.
Agents Carme and Arche stood up and walked to the doorway leading to the sleeper wagon. The door was yanked again, but this time it opened smoothly, surprising Agent Carme. She tumbled into the gangway and grabbed hold of the loose wall as she fell. The material stretched as she held onto it and hoisted herself back up again.
Once in the sleeping wagon, they located the guard’s room. The door was shut. Agent Carme tried to open it, but it was locked so knocked instead. There was no response, so she knocked again. A few minutes later the door slowly opened, and a sleepy looking guard stood in front of them. His eyes were bloodshot; his shirt was ruffled and undone, but his mullet looked as if it had been placed in a hair net.
“Mužu vám pomoc?” he asked in Czech.
“We need your help,” answered Agent Carme in English. “You do understand English, don’t you?”
The guard nodded fearfully. She pushed her way into his room and forced the guard back onto his bunk. Agent Arche closed the door and stood like a bouncer next to it.
The guard’s compartment was small. Opposite the bunk were shelves with items to be sold. A variety of drinks and snacks were neatly lined up. Beside them were a tiny sink and a boiling kettle.
“We are truly sorry for waking you,” explained Agent Carme, fiddling with the top button of her white shirt. “It is not our intention to scare you, but this is a very delicate situation we have here and we need your help. This is a matter of great international importance. Do you understand?”
The guard replied meekly, “Yes.”
“We work for Interpol,” lied Agent Carme. “I am now going to place my hand under my jacket to retrieve my credentials. Please don’t let this movement alarm you.”
The guard nodded, but he was already alarmed.
Agent Carme opened up her jacket and removed her fake I.D. which she passed to the guard. He took it nervously, his eyes fixed on the gun that was still in view under her jacket.
“Er, it looks fine,” he said
Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, and he handed the I.D. back. Agent Carme took it slowly. Her fingers stroked his hand as she did so.
“You do not need to worry. Your help will be completely legal, and we will make sure you are reimbursed for your assistance.”
A neat pile of bank notes were placed on the bed between them by Agent Arche.
“What help do you need?” asked the guard, his voice quivering.
“In one of your couchettes are two adults and two children. The children are a white boy and a black girl. Have you seen them? Do you know which couchette they are in?”
“Yes,” he stuttered.
“They are not a family, as you may have already guessed. The adults are child smugglers. The two children have been drugged to appear happy and have been brain-washed. They are being taken from Czech Republic to the Netherlands.”
Agent Carme paused to let this information sink in.
“I thought they looked strange when they got on to the carriage,” the guard finally said.
“We need to separate the children from the adults in order to protect them. At some point, one of the adults will have to go to the bathroom. When they enter the bathroom, we will seal the door so they cannot leave. At the same time, we will ask you to go to their couchette and ask the remaining adult to join you in the guard room to check the tickets.”
“But I’ve checked them,” he stammered. “What should I say?”
“Just explain that you need to check names against the tickets because they have been travelling between countries.”
“And if they say ‘no’?”
“Inform them that as the train crosses the border between Germany and the Netherlands it will have to stop. Explain that border guards will be invited onto the train if you have any concerns regarding the passengers aboard. I am sure that they will not cause you any problems.”
The sweat was now very visible on the guard’s forehead. Patches were forming under his arms, and he felt that the room had shrunk considerably since these two people entered.
“What happens after?”
“Please lead the adult here to your room but you must ensure they enter first. Otherwise, we will have to lock you in here with them. This is a situation we would all rather avoid.”
The guard nodded and asked, “What will you do then?”
“At this point we will release the children and move them down the train through the carriages to a safe place. When they are safe, we will then open this door and the door to the bathroom. The adults will naturally return to the couchette and find the children gone. However, as they are smuggling the children they will not make a fuss. We will keep surveillance on them, and when we arrive in Amsterdam, the Dutch police will be waiting to arrest them. Do you have any further questions?”
The sweat patches under the guard’s arms had grown across his chest, “Er, how, er, do I know you are telling me the truth?”
Agent Carme smiled.
“That is a good question,” she answered, scratching an itch where her gun and holster rested under her jacket. “Likewise you could ask yourself why I have chosen to trust you by sharing our whole plan with you? Honestly, I have no direct answer for you. I only ask that you trust us until we arrive in the Netherlands and then the Dutch police can verify our story.”
The guard nodded again.
“Thank you, honey,” said Agent Carme, shaking his hand. Her fingers lingered on his palm as she continued speaking, “And thank you from those children who you will stop entering a world of slavery. We will be doing our job, but you will be a hero.”
With the words echoing around the guard’s head, the two agents left the compartment. They had left the money on the bed
The train rushed through the German countryside on its way to Amsterdam, gently rocking as it went. Sun was breaking through the curtains into the compartment in which Eric and Ursula still slept. Next to the window, Andrea was still investigating hypotheses on her tablet.
“Have you been there all night?” asked Alexander as he opened his eyes.
“No,” replied Andrea. “I changed my position at regular intervals.”
“That’s alright then,” said Alexander rubbing his blurry eyes and yawning. “Why did I sleep with my contact lenses in?”
He sat up and before doing anything else he placed his red cap on his head. Yawning again, he pushed the sheet to the side and swung his legs off the bunk and into his shoes. He was already fully dressed. Just as he was about to stand, his face screwed up and turned to panic. Urgently, he rummaged through his sheets and searched under the bed.
“Are you looking for this?” Andrea asked, holding his mother’s notebook in the air. “I took the decision to look after it. You had dropped it from the bunk onto your beer bottle.”
“Thank you,” said Alexander sheepishly.
He took the notebook and placed it safely into his bag under the bunk.
“Now I need to go to the little boy’s room. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
“Why will I not be?” asked Andrea.
Before Alexander had a chance to reply she added, “I will lock the door behind you. When you return, please confirm that it is you.”
“Shall we choose a password?” asked Alexander with a boyish smile.
“A simple knock and your name will be sufficient.”
Feeling slightly patronised, Alexander unlocked the door and stepped outside. The moment he was gone Andrea slid the door shut and locked it.
The agents in the next carriage watched the screen and saw Alexander sway with the train as he walked away from the couchette. He opened the door to the toilet and stepped back as an obnoxious smell hit his nostrils. For a short while, he stood in the doorway as if unsure as to what to do next. The agents continued to watch and willed him to go in. Finally, he made up his mind, took a deep breath and entered.
Instantly the briefcase containing the computer was snapped shut, and the three agents made their way into the sleeping wagon.
“It’s show time!” Agent Hoover exclaimed into the headset he was wearing. “Let’s get into position people. You know the drill.”
His words came through crystal clear on the agents’ ear pieces.
Agents Carme and Arche headed for the guard’s room. They knocked on his door, and he reluctantly opened it.
“It’s time to be a hero and save those children,” said Agent Carme gently taking hold of the guard’s arm and coaxing the shaking man into the corridor.
When he had left, she entered his room and sat down on the bunk. Agent Arche walked back to the gangway between the two carriages and waited.
“Stay in position, Agent Arche,” instructed Agent Hoover. “Go on my command.”
Outside the toilet, Agent Carpo had silently placed an extendable metal rod under the handle to the toilet door. It was now impossible to open.
From his surveillance room, Agent Hoover watched the guard walk unsteadily down the corridor to the correct couchette compartment. He was physically shaking, and Agent Hoover willed him to pull himself together.
Knock, knock.
Andrea looked up from her tablet and waited.
Knock, knock.
She put the tablet down and approached the door.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“The guard,” stuttered the guard.
“How can I help you?”
“There is a problem with your tickets. I need your help in my compartment,” he paused, “please.”
Andrea looked at the sleeping children and considered her options.
“It is probably nothing, madam, but if we do not look at it now the train must stop at the border,” his throat was so dry that he could barely be heard.
As forcefully as she dared, Andrea woke Ursula.
“What,” began Ursula, but Andrea clasped her mouth firmly before she could say anymore.
She whispered, “Listen carefully to me. I must go and resolve a problem with the guard. The moment I leave here you must lock the door behind me and put the chain on the latch. You do not open this again until you know that it is either me or Alexander outside the door. Do you understand?”
Ursula nodded. She was wide awake and slid down from the top bunk.
“Madam, please,” begged the guard.
Andrea paused in front of the door then, as swiftly as she could she unlocked it and stepped outside. She immediately closed the door behind her and did not release her hold until she had heard the door lock and the rattling of the chain.
“Please,” said the guard and pointed Andrea in the direction of the guard’s room, “ladies first
.”
He followed behind.
The train continued to speed on towards its destination. Carriages swayed and lurched as the track curved, but Andrea moved down the corridor as if she was walking along a country path.
Andrea did a quick analysis of the situation. She was expecting to have to solve a ticket problem, and the train guard had no reason to lie to her. However, his speech, body language and odour were abnormal and were conditions that she had been instructed to react to. In spite of this, Andrea knew that if there were a major issue the best reaction was money and in her pocket she had enough. She knew from experience that most people respond well to money.
The guard’s door was shut. He put his arm around Andrea and opened the door.
“Allow me.”
A woman dressed in a suit was sat on the guard’s bunk. In her hand was a silver cylinder which looked like a torch. Suddenly it flashed so brightly that Andrea could see nothing but white. She stepped back, but two firm hands grabbed hold of her shoulders and pushed her forward onto the bunk. In one well-rehearsed movement her face slammed into the pillow, her arms were forced behind her and her wrists were bound with a plastic locking restraint.
Andrea analysed whether she would achieve anything by shouting and struggling. The only person who could help her was, most probably, already in a similar situation. She was certain that if they had her then they had Alexander as well.
A heavy weight unexpectedly dropped onto her back, and she realised that she was being sat on. This new experience convinced her that to fight, at this moment, was a pointless waste of energy. Instead, she decided to remain motionless as if dead and continued to assess the situation until an opportunity presented itself.
The guard stood in the corridor. He had propped himself up against the doorway for support, waiting for his sight to return.
Agent Carme approached him and said warmly, “Sorry about that. It’s very effective and does not cause any injury. Your sight will return in three or four minutes. Let me help you sit down. You have done a great and brave thing today.”