by John Sneeden
“I think he’s right.” Carmen stared at the screen of her smartphone. “I typed in that address, and sure enough, it’s the St. Pierre Cathedral. Of course, there is a square in front of the church with a lot of other buildings, so I guess it could be one of them.”
“I doubt it. Amanda is right. Her father was an engineer, and logic would indicate we go to the place that address is known for. Anything else wouldn’t make sense.”
“Normally I’d agree with you, Zane. But how on earth could a church in Geneva lead us to his killer? And not only that, but what do we do when we get there? What is the significance of the time?”
“Obviously, we can’t answer those questions until we get there,” Zane replied.
“Maybe the church does make the most sense,” Carmen said. “But when I have more time, I’m going to search the other addresses on that block to see if Renaissance owns or rents property there.”
“Wouldn’t hurt. I just think we have to take this one step at a time and follow the trail that Amanda’s father set down for us. We do that and we can’t go wrong.”
Carmen stood up, walked over to the curtains, and parted them slightly with a finger.
“When do we leave for Geneva?” Amanda asked.
“We’ve already discussed this—”
Before he could finish, Carmen held up her hand. “Zane, you’d better take a look at this.”
Carmen kept the curtain slightly open with her finger and motioned him over. Zane placed his head up to the opening and looked out. On the other side of the street, through the trees that lined both sides, was a blue compact car with two men in the front seat. It was hard to tell from that distance, but the driver appeared to be looking up at their building.
“He wasn’t there when I looked before,” Carmen said.
Zane looked back at Amanda. “Can you turn out the lights please?”
Amanda walked over to the front door and flicked the switch, plunging the interior into darkness. Zane put his phone in camera mode and placed the lens up against the part in the curtains, moving the viewfinder until the car was centered on the screen. He then maneuvered a small zoom bar on the touch screen until the car came into sharper focus.
“Yep, it looks like we have company. They’re both looking up here and one of them is on the phone. And something else… boy, that’s interesting …”
“What?” Carmen asked.
“The driver. If I’m not mistaken I’d say that’s Baldy from the London Underground.”
“So I was followed?” Amanda asked.
“Apparently so.” Zane pulled the phone away from the window. “I think it’s time to go.”
“We can take the stairs and exit out the back,” Amanda blurted.
“Possibly. Then again, they may have that covered too. At this point it’s safe to assume that Carmen did hear someone behind the building, and that’s probably who they’re talking to right now.”
Carmen shook her head slowly. “I knew I should’ve checked out that sound. When your instinct tells you to do something, then you do it.”
“Well, we can’t worry about it now.” Zane replied. After thinking for a moment, he asked, “Do you have any throwaway phones?”
“Always.” Carmen reached inside her coat. “I actually have two.”
“Good. I need you to do something. Using your best German, call the cops and tell them that you live on Baumanstrasse. Tell them you were walking your dog when two men you've never seen before made lewd remarks. You noticed that one had a gun, and now they're casing your building.”
“A gun? On the streets of Vienna?” Carmen laughed. “I think we may have the whole force down here within minutes.”
“That’s the idea. When the cops arrive, we’ll check the back first, and if that’s covered, we’ll walk right out the front door.”
Carmen nodded slowly. “I like that.” She selected one of the phones, dialed, and then walked down the hall toward the bedroom.
A few seconds later, Zane could hear her speaking in German. There was a pause, and then she spoke more loudly. As the call went on, Carmen got more aggressive and was shouting into the phone. A few seconds later, she came walking back into the room.
“Well, that was easy enough.” She winked at Zane. “The more questions they asked, the louder I got. Finally, I told them my husband was a Viennese politician, and if they didn’t get over here in a hurry, there would be hell to pay. Needless to say, they’re on their way.”
*
The Vienna police arrived four minutes later. Zane was pleasantly surprised to see no less than three red-and-white Smart cars marked “Poleizi” turn the corner and roll slowly down the street.
Apparently, they aren’t about to risk insulting a politician’s wife. As Zane watched, the lead car stopped at each parked vehicle and illuminated the interior with a spotlight. Eventually they reached the blue car, and the caravan came to a halt. Zane could see the driver holding up his hands as if protesting innocence. The two policemen got out and pointed flashlights at him.
“Let's go,” he said to Carmen, who was waiting near the front entrance.
After closing and locking the door, they crossed the hall and entered the elevator, which Amanda had been holding open.
Seconds later the door slid open, and they exited into the lobby. Zane signaled the others to wait as he looked down the hall that led to the rear. He would have preferred to exit out of the back but was wary of the possibility that there might be others lying in wait.
There didn’t appear to be any movement along the corridor, so he motioned for Carmen and Amanda to follow him. As they moved forward, Zane held his gun inside the pocket in case a resident came through.
After reaching the back, Zane peered through the window in the door. It was too dark to tell if there was any movement in the courtyard, so he knew they’d need to have their weapons ready and take their chances.
“Zane,” Carmen said, pointing to the light switch. “Let’s kill the interior lights so we won't be an easy target.”
Zane nodded and Carmen flicked the switch, plunging the rear of the building into darkness. He then drew his weapon out of his pocket and whispered, “You all set?”
“Yes,” Carmen replied, lifting her Beretta to indicate she was ready.
“Amanda, you stay behind us, understood? We’re going to cross the courtyard the same way we came in. Simple and sweet.”
Amanda nodded nervously.
“Okay, let’s move,” Zane said, turning the handle and opening the door.
After stepping out onto the concrete, the operative paused to take in his surroundings. There was little noise and no movement that he could see. He was just about to give the all-clear signal when he sensed a shadow closing in on him fast. He swiveled to his left, catching the attacker with a sharp elbow to the face. The man was thrown up against the building, and Zane followed with a fisted blow to the head. As the man fell to the ground, there was a popping sound that Zane recognized immediately as a suppressed shot. The round exploded into the metal awning above the entrance, causing Zane to duck.
There were two more popping sounds to his right. He looked over to see Carmen down on one knee, having just squeezed off a couple of rounds. There was a loud grunt from somewhere along the trail, indicating the Italian had connected with at least one of her shots.
“Back inside!” Zane shouted. “Now!”
Carmen and Amanda pushed through the door as several shots sprayed across the back of the building. Amanda was huddled in a corner, and Carmen helped her up in order to get her moving.
Ten seconds later, they burst through the front entrance and out into the street, where blue lights reflected brightly off the surrounding buildings. A crowd had gathered up and down the block, drawn by a scene that most of the residents had never seen before.
Zane tried to maintain a calm demeanor as they walked down the sidewalk but managed to steal a glance at the drama unfolding across the street. Th
e two men were standing up against their car and were being frisked by a Vienna police officer. As Zane studied the bald man who had been driving, he saw something he had almost forgotten about—the tattoo of a snake wrapped around the man’s neck.
Almost as though he knew he was being watched, the man turned his head around and his eyes fell on Zane. The man’s countenance turned to one of anger and rage. Unable to help himself, Zane gave the thug a quick wink and then hurried to catch the other two.
It took less than a minute to hail a cab. Once they were all piled into the back, Carmen told the driver to take them to the Hilton. She and Zane had decided in advance that it would be best to be dropped there and then take a separate cab to their hotels.
After the cab left the Hilton parking lot and moved into traffic, Zane spoke. “You did well.” He placed a hand on Amanda’s shoulder. She was a bit rattled but holding up better than most would have in the same situation.
“Thank you.” Amanda smiled. “I guess it’s official now.”
“What’s official?” Zane asked.
“That was my first time ever being shot at.”
Zane nodded. “You were behind the door, but we’ll let it count anyway.”
Amanda laughed and then said, in a more serious tone, “I guess you also realize what I said earlier is true, that I don’t really care if I’m in harm's way. I’m going to see this through to the end, whether that be Geneva or anywhere else.”
Carmen looked at Zane, which was her way of indicating he should handle that one.
“Amanda, we’re happy you’re safe,” he replied. “But let’s be honest, you were lucky you weren’t—”
“I’m sure you’re going to have lots of good reasons why I can’t go to Geneva. I could get killed. I’m not authorized. I’ll slow you guys down. I get that. But remember, whether it’s with you or without you… I’m going to Geneva. You can’t stop me from going.”
Carmen crossed her arms. “You’re a tough girl. But why would you want to slow us down? Your father is best served—”
“He is best served by the two of you following his instructions. I think you two have forgotten that his letter was addressed to me, not to the US government or whoever you guys work for. Which means that the address in Geneva was also left for me. My dad created these instructions with me in mind. If it weren't for me, you wouldn’t have realized the significance of the Rosetta Stone. Right? And there may come another time, perhaps at this church, when you’ll wish I was there to help you.”
He was staring down at the sidewalk, but after a long and uncomfortable minute he finally looked up at Carmen and said, “It’s hard to argue with that. I say we bring her along.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A WINTER STORM moved in over Geneva just as the train carrying Zane, Carmen, and Amanda entered the main rail station adjacent to the airport. Ominous clouds swept in across the mountains that partially encircled the lakeside city.
As the darkest clouds settled overhead, the first flakes began to drift slowly down to the earth, white harbingers of the coming blizzard. Most of them were so light that they bounced around horizontally, defying the laws of gravity.
Zane looked up as they stepped out onto the curb. “This is one of the reasons I chose not to drive. It looks like western Switzerland may be a mess for a few days.”
“Where are we staying again?” Amanda asked.
Carmen smiled. “Unfortunately, Delphi doesn’t own a flat in Geneva, and Zane is forcing us to stay at the Kempinski.”
Zane shook his head and waved at one of the taxis.
“I guess I’m missing something here,” Amanda said.
“Well, let’s just say that Zane has a personal interest in staying at this particular hotel, although who knows if she’s even working there anymore,” replied Carmen, a mischievous smile on her face.
“Oh, now I see.”
Zane turned around. “Amanda, you should learn to ignore Carmen when she gets one of those grins on her face. She knows exactly why I like to stay at the Kempinski. It’s big, and big means safe in our line of work.”
“Is that in our field manual?” Carmen turned toward Amanda, and Zane saw her mouth the word “liar.”
“Well, okay then,” Amanda said, laughing.
The cab ride to the Grand Hotel Kempinksi was painlessly short, one of the benefits of Geneva’s small footprint. As the driver turned onto the Quai du Mont-Blanc, Zane looked out the window at the impressive view that opened up in front of him. The historic city wrapped around the western end of Lake Geneva, with the snow-covered Alps providing a dramatic backdrop. In the center of the lake itself was the Jet D’eau, the famous fountain that sent a plume of water almost five hundred feet into the air.
After exiting the cab, Zane entered the hotel while Carmen and Amanda walked along the lakeshore. While crossing the lobby, he quickly transitioned from serious operative to the annoying and extremely flirtatious Michel Bergeron. As startled guests looked on, the Frenchman made several inappropriate remarks to the clerk checking him in, including a request that they meet at the bar as soon as her shift ended. The clerk coldly stated that she was working all night and threw his key cards onto the counter. It would be some time before she forgot the impression made by the irritating French Canadian, which was his goal. If anyone were to later inquire about the affable Monsieur Bergeron, the description given by the clerk wouldn’t even remotely resemble American operative Zane Watson.
*
After giving Zane time to check in and find his room, Carmen and Amanda entered the lobby and approached the front desk. Carmen could see that the clerk was still rattled as she struggled to retrieve the reservation on the computer. After a couple of minutes, the clerk shook her head and looked up at Carmen. “I’m sorry, Ms. Bigatton. That last person just—”
Carmen reached out, grabbed the girl’s arm, and said in accented English, “I understand. I work in customer service, too. People can be so unpleasant sometimes.”
“That guy was just creepy, you know? Thanks for your understanding.”
“Maybe you should report him to management,” Carmen suggested.
“It’s not that easy,” replied the clerk, laughing. “If I reported every creep that came on to me, we’d probably have to shut down the hotel. This one was just a little more creepy than the others though.”
“I understand. You shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of filth.”
“Thank you,” said the clerk, smiling. “Anyway, everything appears to be all set now. But actually…” She stared at the computer screen. “Actually, there is one other thing. I have a package for you. Just a moment.”
The clerk disappeared through a door behind the desk and returned a few seconds later with a small box. Carmen put on a show, almost as though she wasn’t expecting anything, but thanked the clerk nonetheless.
“And finally, here are your keys.” The clerk handed Carmen two cards.
“Thank you so much. And best wishes on avoiding the creep.”
The clerk winked at her. “Please enjoy your stay at the Grand Hotel Kempinski, Madame Bigatton.”
*
Darkness was beginning to overtake the city when Carmen and Amanda finally entered their room. Amanda went over to the window and pulled the curtains aside. The lake fountain was lit up, providing sharp contrast to the dark waters underneath.
“Such an amazing place,” Amanda said. “I wish I could come back and just spend some time studying the architecture.”
“It is a beautiful city. Sorry, but I’m just trying to get focused right now. Zane wants to go straight to the cathedral as soon as we grab something to eat.” Carmen set the box down on the bed and began cutting the side with a pocketknife.
“What’s in there anyway?”
“We use a courier service to move our toys around when we can’t take them with us. Zane wanted to take the train, so I had Nigel ship us a fresh box of goodies from our Paris office this morning.”
Amanda walked over just as Carmen finished opening the top. The box was filled with Styrofoam peanuts. Carmen plunged her hand down into the filling. When she had finished retrieving the items, there were three handguns and eight full magazines lying on the bed.
“You’re not expecting me to use one of those, are you?” Amanda asked.
“No, probably not.”
“Probably not?”
“Not unless things take a strange turn.”
“Then why are you carrying three guns?” asked Amanda.
“Old habits die hard. I always carry two for myself. I’ve had too many break down over the years. The other is Zane’s.” Carmen clicked a magazine into each of her two Berettas.
“So I guess it’s safe to assume you two are pretty good with those things.”
“Actually, you’re traveling with one of the best,” Carmen said, looking up at Amanda, “and I don’t mean myself.” Carmen closed the box and set it next to the trash can. “You know, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him miss in the field. As for me, meh… I can hold my own.”
“In the field? You mean Zane has actually—”
“Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies. Just be glad you’re in archaeology.”
“That’s for sure. I would like to learn to shoot sometime, though,” Amanda said.
“Let’s just hope you don’t get your first lesson here in Geneva.”
Amanda walked back over to the window and stared out at the lake for a moment before turning back toward Carmen. “What do you think we’re going to find here?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think we’re going to find all of our answers at the cathedral, assuming that’s the place your father was referring to. Zane believes we will. I’m just not that convinced.”
“At this point it seems likely that’s where he was directing me.”
“Perhaps. But it doesn’t mean it’s our last stop.” Carmen frowned. “Did your father ever mention a man named Alexander Mironov?”