The Sirani Connection

by Estelle Ryan

  “Oh, no. That’s so sad. I researched them as soon as you told me, but I’ve only had twenty-five minutes.” It sounded like she was typing on her laptop. “Okay, what I have so far: The Zemans are the ninth richest couple in Czech. An interesting Czech language titbit is that Marta’s surname changed to Zemanová, the female version of Zeman. Anyhoo, their wealth comes from construction. It seems like Marta got lucky when she invested in a project through her first job. They had been married for six years by then and had just a small bit of savings, but she put everything in it.

  “Eight years later, they got their first payout of hundreds of thousands. Radek used half of that to start his construction company and within fifteen years they were number fifty on the rich list. He sold his construction company ten years ago and invested heavily in a tech start-up. In a recent article, they boasted that their home was almost completely a smart home. They have AI for all their appliances and... the list is long, so I’m just going to say you are standing in one of the most technologically advanced homes in Prague.

  “A few interesting titbits I found: They don’t have separate finances, even though Marta said in an interview they had both been advised to change this many times by their lawyers and financial advisers. They liked being connected in all ways.

  “They have one daughter who took after her mother. Ooh, I forgot to be more chronological. Sorry, Genevieve. To backtrack, once they made their fifth million, Marta stopped working altogether and devoted herself completely to charities that focused on women’s causes. It’s estimated that the Zemans have donated around twenty million euros over the years to these foundations.

  “Their daughter Natálie did her degree in some kind of women’s studies and immediately got a job with an NGO, her work connected with CEDAW—that’s the UN’s Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women. She’s now thirty-one and is still working for them. And here’s where it gets really, really interesting. Natálie has done a lot of work with Iranian women. She’s part of a team that hel—”

  “Francine?” Manny shook his phone after a second of silence. “What the hell? Hello?”

  The call had been terminated. No sooner had I realised this than the security shutters closed with an alarming speed. All the windows in the bedroom were secured within four seconds, dumping the room in dark shadows.

  “What’s happening?” Ivan took his weapon from its holster and looked at Daniel.

  “I locked all the doors before we came upstairs.” He also unholstered his weapon.

  “We cleared the house.” Manny walked to the bedroom door and pressed the light switch. Nothing happened.

  A hissing sound had all of us turning to the air vents. Colin took a step back. He looked at the vents, then walked closer and held his hand in front of one. “That’s not good.”

  “Frey?”

  “I’ve only seen this in art preservation rooms in museums and galleries.” Colin walked back and took my hand. “If this is what I think it is, the shutters have made the house airtight and these vents are sucking out the oxygen. In museums and galleries, this is used in case of fire. These systems are extremely sophisticated and will never be triggered if they register human presence.”

  Daniel walked towards the door. “We need to split up and find a way to stop this.”

  “I don’t know if that’s the best use of time.” Colin looked at the air vents. “We might need Francine when we find the panel to the system. It might be better to find a weak window and break it open to allow air in.”

  “That’s most likely what they were doing.” Ivan pointed at the Zeman couple, then at the air vents. “And this is most likely what killed them.”

  “Bloody hell.” Manny also took his gun out of its holster. “Frey, you and Doc come with me since you don’t have weapons. Dan, you take this floor. Ivan and I will do the ground floor.”

  Daniel nodded and left the room. Ivan followed us out the bedroom and down the stairs. The whole house was in dark shadows as if it were dusk and not seventeen minutes to nine in the morning. There was still enough light to find our way around, but I didn’t feel comfortable not being able to see clearly.

  On the ground floor, Ivan went to the rooms on the left and we went right. Manny went into each room first, his posture alert and ready to act, his weapon held out in front of him. The first room we entered was an office. There was nobody and the two windows were locked and impossible to open.

  Instead of spending more energy here, we went into the next room and then the next. By the time we’d circled back to the front door, I was feeling weak. My breathing was becoming shallow and it felt like I had been on an exceptionally long morning run.

  “I found nothing upstairs.” Daniel slipped on the last step, but steadied himself. “And I’m feeling the lack of oxygen.”

  “Me too.” Ivan joined us.

  Daniel and Ivan tried, but they couldn’t unlock the front door and decided not to waste any more time on it. Ivan shook his head. “Everything is tightly locked.”

  “Not this window.” Colin pointed at a long, narrow window to the left of the front door. The shutter appeared to have stopped five centimetres above the ground, light from the lower part reflecting on the tiled floor.

  “Stand back.” Ivan aimed his weapon at the window. He glanced at us and frowned. “No, even further back. Get behind the wall.”

  He waited until we were out of sight. The loud report of a gunshot rang through the house. Darkness entered my peripheral vision and I didn’t know whether it was from a looming shutdown or the lack of breathable air. Or both.

  “Fuck!” The anger was easy to hear in Ivan’s voice. We stepped back into the entrance to see Ivan pressing his hand against his left upper arm.

  “Bloody hell, man.” Manny rushed forward and took Ivan by the shoulders. “Did you shoot yourself?”

  Ivan burst out laughing. “Seems so.” He lifted his hand to reveal a tear in his jacket and blood seeping through.

  Manny leaned in closer. “Looks superficial.”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t the bullet that got me. It was the ricochet off the wood it hit.” He pointed at the damaged, but unbroken window. “These windows are bulletproof.”

  “Oh, man.” Daniel sat down on the floor. “I’m not feeling so good.”

  “Makes two of us.” The light coming from the narrow window highlighted Ivan’s pallor. He was looking even paler than a minute ago.

  Slight tremors started shaking my body and light-headedness overwhelmed me. I looked down at the ground, trying to slow my breathing. It didn’t help. My lungs were gasping for more air.

  Colin’s grip on my hand loosened and he joined Daniel and Ivan on the ground. He looked up at me. “I can’t any more, love.”

  “Holy hell.” The desperate look on Manny’s face as he took us in sent even more darkness into my peripheral vision. “We’re not going to bloody, fucking die here.”

  I blinked and found myself sitting on the floor next to Colin. He was cradling me against his side. “We’re still here, love. Millard is going to swear us out of this bloody place.”

  “Bugger off, Frey.” Manny was swiping on his smartphone screen.

  I blinked again and found Colin lying on the floor next to me. His eyes were still open, but he was gasping. Manny was sitting on the floor, still swiping his phone screen, his actions no longer coordinated. Daniel and Ivan were both unconscious. Tears formed in my eyes as I fought against the blackness trying to take me away. I didn’t want to die. And definitely not like this.

  Manny jerked when there was loud banging on the door. I concentrated to hear what was happening, but everything was fading. The banging stopped, but someone was shouting a lot of obscenities and something about moving away from the front door.

  “Doc.” Manny sounded completely out of breath. “We’ve got to move.”

  He crawled on the floor and pushed Ivan towards the stairs. His arm slipped out from under him and he fell flat on th
e floor. He pushed himself up and pushed Ivan even further away. “Doc! Get your lazy arse moving and get Frey away from the front door.”

  Colin’s eyes were closed, but he was still breathing. Barely. Manny was now pushing Daniel’s legs with weak movements. I forced myself to my knees and pulled Colin’s legs towards the room on our left. It felt like I was trying to move a building.

  I heaved again and his legs slid on the tiled floors. It took all my strength and felt like hours, but I managed to move him two metres. Sweating profusely and gasping for air, I collapsed on top of Colin just as I heard a loud crash at the front door.

  I gave myself over to the darkness.

  Chapter SEVENTEEN

  I DIDN’T KNOW WHETHER it was Manny’s irritated tone, the sound of a lot of people moving around or Colin softly talking to me that pulled me out of my shutdown. The moment I became aware of my surroundings, I also became aware of the numbness in my legs.

  I opened my eyes and winced as I lowered my legs to the ground. Then I frowned. How had I got to the sofa in the living area of the Zemans’ house?

  “I carried you here,” Colin said and I realised I had asked the question out loud. He took my hand.

  “How long?”

  “It’s now”—he glanced at his watch—“five past twelve.” He squeezed my hand when my eyes widened. I had been in a shutdown for three hours. “No worries. We just needed to make space for the first responders and then the hazmat team, so I brought you here. You wouldn’t let the paramedics touch you.”

  I looked beyond him towards the front door. People in hazmat suits were moving around. More tension left my body when I noticed they weren’t wearing helmets and their nonverbal cues revealed no alarm. I looked back to where we were sitting and my frown deepened. Francine was sitting on the other sofa, her laptop on her lap. “Why are you here?”

  “Hi to you too, girlfriend. It’s good to see you.” She raised one eyebrow and waited.

  I sighed. “Hi, Francine. What are you doing here?”

  Her smile was wide. “I came with Vin when you guys phoned. I didn’t think we were going to walk into this.”

  “What is this?” I turned to Colin.

  “A fucking house tried to kill you!” Vinnie stalked towards me from where he’d been pacing next to the patio doors and stopped next to Colin. “Do you have any idea how fucked up that is?”

  “Easy, Vin.” Colin’s tone was gentle. “We’re okay.”

  “Only by the skin of your teeth.” He swung around and walked back to the doors leading to the patio and paced from one side to the next, his posture stiff.

  “Teeth have no skin.” I knew the expression, but like so many others it was ridiculous and almost impossible not to refute each time I heard it used.

  Vinnie snorted and some of the tension left his body.

  “Vinster is pissed that he wasn’t the one to save you guys.” Francine winked at Vinnie when he swore at her.

  “Is she with us yet?” Manny didn’t give me the same courtesy as Vinnie. He walked right into my personal space and leaned over to stare into my face. “You okay, Doc?”

  I pushed myself deeper against the back of the sofa. “I’ll be much better if you respect my space.”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of Manny’s mouth. He straightened. “She’s back.”

  He stepped away and sat down next to Francine. Only now did I take note of the deep stress lines etched next to his mouth and the dark rings under his eyes. “Manny, are you well?”

  “Peachy, Doc.” He waved his hand at me. “I’m alive. We’re all alive and that’s all that counts.”

  “I’m fine!” Bree’s husky voice travelled to us from deeper in the house. I turned in the sofa as she came out of a room and shook off a paramedic’s hand on her arm. She turned around. “Touch me again and you’re the one who’s going to need pain medication.”

  He stepped back, both hands in the air. “Only trying to help, miss.”

  “Oh, dammit.” Bree’s shoulders dropped and she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know you’re doing your job, but that... that wasn’t fun.”

  “Because you refused pain medication.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Manny stood up and glared at them.

  Bree turned to us and I gasped. Her left eye was swollen so much, she was looking at us through a slit. Almost parallel to her eyebrow was a long cut that had been stitched. The blood from this injury stained her beige blouse, making it look as if her injuries were of such severity she needed to be in a hospital.

  “This... patient refused any painkillers when I stitched that cut.” The paramedic’s expression vacillated between admiration and exasperation.

  “Yeah. Maybe next time I should. That hurt like a son of a bitch.” She leaned a bit towards him. “Thank you for doing it so quickly.”

  “You’re welcome.” He turned and walked back into the room, shaking his head.

  Bree looked at Manny, then at the rest of us. She put a chocolate-brown fedora on her head, pulled her shoulders back and walked towards us. “Hello, beautiful people. Miss me? Anyone have a cupcake by any chance?”

  “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?” Francine asked.

  “Me? No. This is just a little scratch. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.” I pointed at her face. “Your frontal bone could be fractured.”

  “My what now?” Bree sat down on a wingback chair.

  Manny stared at her for a few more seconds, then sat down next to Francine again.

  “Your eye socket bone.” I tilted my head. “How did you get that injury? Did someone attack you?”

  “Hah!” She laughed, then winced and pressed gingerly against her temple. “Hmm. I shouldn’t laugh. But yeah, I was attacked by an airbag.”

  “Bree crashed her rental car through the front door like a boss.” The pride in Francine’s expression was unmistakable. “That’s when her airbag deployed and punched her in the face.”

  I leaned back against the sofa, exhausted. “There’s so much wrong with what you just said.”

  Francine’s smile was wide and relieved. “Everything I said is fabulous. Because Bree is a hero. She saved your lives.” She pressed her elbow into Manny’s side. “Yours too.”

  “You can be glad you still have your teeth.” Vinnie stood next to Francine, his arms crossed in an uncommon display of discomfort. It appeared like he was trying to reach out to Bree, but was unsure how to relate to her. “And your nose isn’t broken. Those airbags are bastards—they can really pack a punch.”

  Vinnie was right. I’d read an article about the dangers of airbags. They were triggered and deployed in an average of fifty milliseconds—less than the blink of an eye. It then immediately started deflating in order to absorb the shock and not act as a solid barrier to the passenger. Research had shown that people who were shorter or taller than average were at grave risk of injury when an airbag deployed. Vinnie and Colin were both above average height. It worried me. Yet the dangers were still outweighed by the safety provided by having something to cushion an impact.

  I looked at Bree. “You purposely crashed your vehicle into the front door?”

  “Yup.” Her lips twisted. “I just hope the insurance will cover this.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Colin looked at Francine and she nodded. He looked at Bree until she inclined her head. “We’ll take care of your car. You saved our lives. Thank you.”

  “Any time.” Her micro-expressions revealed slight embarrassment at the attention, but also pride and relief.

  I frowned. “How did you know we needed oxygen?”

  She looked at Manny. “That one was shouting at me when I knocked on the front door.”

  I hadn’t heard any of that.

  “Hazmat has cleared the whole house.” Ivan walked in from the kitchen area and noticed me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m well.”

  “Thanks.” Colin smiled at Ivan. “Ho
w’s your arm?”

  Ivan glanced at the white bandage peeking from under his torn sleeve. “Didn’t need stitches, but that disinfectant stuff burned a swearword out of me.”

  Colin chuckled, then sobered. “Did they find any evidence of the opioid weapon used in the hotel?”

  “None.” Ivan sat down on the second wingback chair and glanced at Bree. “The ME looked at the Zemans and thinks they died from a lack of oxygen, but will confirm once he’s done a full autopsy.”

  “Bloody house.”

  “Yeah.” Vinnie was standing by the patio doors, but looked more relaxed. “Who would’ve thought we’d ever say that a house tried to kill you?”

  “It wasn’t the house.” Francine’s expression and tone indicated that this was not the first time she’d said this. “How many times do I have to repeat myself? Technology is only as useful, effective or dangerous as the user and his or her skills.” She glanced at a panel against the wall next to one of the patio doors. “Shahab hacked the house and tried to kill you. The house didn’t do it by itself.”

  Manny stared at Bree. “This doesn’t mean I trust you.”

  “Hah!” Her smile was wide, pulling at her swollen eye. “You do. You trust me. And you like me.” She looked at Francine. “He likes me.”

  “Bugger off, paparazza.”

  Their bantering didn’t distract me from what Francine had said. I looked at her. “Do you have evidence that Shahab hacked the house?”

  “Uh, not the kind you want.” She pointed at her laptop. “But the signs are all here. This is circumstantial, but seriously? At this point in the game, it’s really hard to not lay all this on Shahab.”

  “My team agrees with Francine.” Ivan held out a hand towards Francine. “You tell them.”

  “So, Ivan’s IT people are not too bad.” She smiled when Ivan loudly cleared his throat. “Maybe a little better than not too bad. They managed to get a lot done and only needed my help at the very end. But we did trace the computer that hacked the police station and deleted the footage of Tomas Broz and Bree. That computer was dumped in a public bathroom in a shopping mall in the northern parts of the city. And before you ask, Ivan’s team recovered it, but it’s completely destroyed. We won’t be able to get any data from it or any prints.”