Antiphon

by B. L. Roberts

  The news reached Brent Peters through his network, the next day. He would pass on this information to the Swedish police, but not straight away. He first had to make some enquiries. It did not take long to determine it was not Coca Cola behind the message. A colleague at the CIA made a call to an executive vice president, one of the company’s movers and shakers, and this man confirmed he knew nothing of the laboratory, and what went on there, or any move to have it shut down. He was interested to know who had used his company’s name, and was muttering about legal action.

  So, who was behind the kidnapping? Some quick research on professor Maglio Bordicelli, backgrounded him, but threw no light on who had given him the assignment to oversee destruction of the laboratory. He made more calls.

  The professor was startled when, making his way to his old Fiat at the end of the last lecture, he found himself suddenly accompanied by two men, who seemed to materialise from no-where. They were large men, and joined him as he walked, one on each side. They each took one of his arms.

  “Good evening professor. If you don’t mind, we would like a little chat with you, so just come along with us please, this won’t take long.”

  They were very polite, but something told the professor he would be having that chat, whether he wanted to or not. Bewildered, he offered no resistance, as they ushered him into the back seat of a large black limousine. He noticed pistols in holsters under their armpits, and decided he could see no reason to keep back from them, any details of his meeting with the man from Coca Cola, which included giving as good a description of the man as he was able to recall, and where their meeting had occurred.

  The interrogation lasted for more than half and hour, then he was allowed to leave the car, a little shaken. As soon as he arrived home, he rushed in to tell his wife what had happened.

  “How did they know about my meeting? Those people seemed to know everything, even how much I was being paid? How did they find all this out?”

  Margaretta shook her head, she had no idea. She had not spoken about it to anyone, except her good friend Yvette, but Margaretta did not mention that to her husband. The men had shown particular interest in Bordicelli’s connections in America, who he was to meet, and how he was to get out to the island housing the laboratory. Maglio could not help them, as he repeatedly assured them.

  “I do not know yet, I have not been told. I was just told to get time off from the university, which I have now arranged, and they will tell me when to catch the plane, and they will meet me in America.”

  Margaretta was a little frightened by what her husband had told her, and as soon as she was alone, phoned her friend Yvette, to scold her for gossiping, and to tell her what had happened to Maglio. Yvette also expressed amazement at how his questioners came to find out about Maglio’s assignment. She couldn’t understand it at all. Margaretta would have been more frightened, had she known her telephone conversation was being recorded.

  “He is on board. As soon as we can get him onto the island, work can begin. It will be within days, I shall keep you informed. Oh, he also asked could his wife go with him, at least to the States. It will cost us an extra ticket, and some accommodation, but I can’t see the harm, it will make his trip look more natural, more like a holiday.”

  “Yes, that makes sense.”

  DelZoto was delighted things were moving so quickly.

  “Please keep me advised of what happens.”

  “Naturally, my Cardinal.”

  Father Zanus took his leave, while DelZoto prepared a report for his Holiness.

  Three days later, professor Bordicelli and his wife, peered out of the plane window as it came in to land, Margaretta squeezing his hand tightly, until the big jet stopped taxiing. A man, seated three rows back, followed them to the carousel as they waited to collect their bags, and stood at the edge of the mob, crowded around the delivery belt.

  Bordicelli jerked his suitcase from the machine, and placed it on the ground behind him, then both he and Margaretta searched for her larger bag. He did not notice the tiny button, pushed onto the side of his bag by the man from the plane, who then moved behind the people crowding around the conveyor, where he was joined by a second man. They held a brief conversation, then separated.

  “They said we will be met at the arrivals entrance, by a man wearing a grey felt hat. Keep your eye out for him.”

  The grey felt hat escorted the professor and Margaretta to a taxi, to take them to their hotel. An hour later, he returned in another taxi, to collect Bordicelli, and his bag, to take him back to the airport, only this time, it was to the area handling helicopters. After seeing the professor safely loaded into the chartered chopper, his assignment completed, he returned to his car.

  Feeling jet lagged and tired, the professor landed on the island several hours later, to be met by a young woman, who escorted him to the room he was to occupy, after first showing him how to find the dining room. He agreed with her suggestion he should rest, and postpone his meeting with Dr. Wong until the following day. Wong was in no hurry to meet him, and Bordicelli also was not anxious to speed up this assignment.

  The grey felt hat was feeling complacent. This had been an easy assignment. As a private investigator, he was, at times, called on to do some things that were best described as unusual, but this one had been simple. Just book the chopper, meet the Italians, and see the male got on board. He wouldn’t have charged as much as the priest had offered had he been asked for a price, but he took the money gratefully.

  His complacency evaporated when, after unlocking the door, he was suddenly slammed against the side of his car, his arms pinned behind his back, and handcuffs slapped on his wrists. He was shoved roughly into the back seat, followed by one of his assailants. The other climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Keys.”

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing.”

  The glock pistol shoved in his face cut short his outburst. He found himself staring into implacable eyes. The man now seated alongside him took the keys from his hand, then leaned over and felt his pockets. He withdrew the gun from the grey felt hat’s armpit holder, and passed the keys to his accomplice in the driver’s seat.

  “Say nothing, do nothing, and you just may live. Now shut up.”

  Next moment, a piece of adhesive tape was wrapped across grey felt hat’s eyes and another across his mouth. The gun in his face had frightened him badly, but now, being blind, and barely able to breathe, he was terrified. Trembling, he sat upright, not daring to move.

  The car continued for some time, then slowed down, and stopped. The tape was ripped roughly from his mouth, but his eyes remained covered.

  “Just answer our questions, and we may let you go home. Mess us about, and you’re dead. Now, who hired you?”

  “I don’t know who he was, I just got a phone call to meet the Itis at the airport.”

  “What, you’ve forgotten already? I said don’t mess us about, remember. Now I’ll ask you just once again, who hired you?” The grey felt hat squirmed.

  “All I know is what I said. I had to meet the Italian man and his wife at the airport, and take them to their hotel, then take to the man to a helicopter. All I know is the man who hired me was a priest.”

  “Not good enough. I want you to tell us everything, how you got the job, how you were paid, who you met up with, everything you know.”

  Grey felt hat sensed something hard pressed into his knee.

  “Just so you know, we are in a hurry, and we don’t want you wasting our time. If you have any problem remembering, you are about to lose a knee cap. That might help you.”

  The private investigator suddenly remembered details he never thought he knew, earnestly answering the questions fired at him, his memory wonderfully assisted by the steel pressing into his knee. Finally, satisfied there was nothing more to be learned, his captors stopped talking, the car
started, and again began to move.

  A short time later it stopped, the man beside him pulled him forward to release the handcuffs, and he was suddenly alone, shaking. He carefully pulled the tape from his eyes, sat still for a minute as his eyes adjusted again to light, then, after checking his captors had indeed departed, he climbed out of the rear seat, first retrieving his pistol which had been left on the seat, then into the driver’s seat. He sat again for several minutes, breathing deeply, still shaking, and wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into. The grey felt hat, minus the hat which had somehow become lost in the foray, drove to a bar near his home, to stiffen himself up.

  Peters heard the report of the interview within minutes, and it confirmed his suspicions. He reported to Sorensen.

  “I’m fairly confident we know who is behind the kidnapping. From what I have learned from several sources, it all points to the Vatican, which means we are probably dealing with the Mafia who are doing the dirty work. I should know more, possibly, by tomorrow.”

  Frederik raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “The Vatican? They would do something like this? Are you sure?”

  “As sure as I can be. The scientist sent to your laboratory is a professor Maglio Bordicelli from Rome university. They threw up a smoke screen, made out Coca Cola was hiring him, but I checked that one out. Coke knows nothing about it, didn’t know about the laboratory. Anyway it’s not their style. The Rome connection points to the church, plus a few other hints in the same direction, confirm it. It’s the church that wants you shut down, and is prepared to have your boys kidnapped, to see that it happens.”

  “Will they harm the boys? I can’t imagine the church would want that to happen.”

  Peters did not want to alarm Sorensen, but he was not going to give him false hope. Several clashes with Mafia figures, had taught him not to underestimate their capability, nor their ruthlessness. Life, in their circles, was not valued highly, and if it came to a choice between someone’s life, and money, or their own security, money and safety won every time. As gently as he could, he appraised his employer of the reality of their situation.

  “We are not dealing with the church, I’m afraid, it’s the Mafia we are up against, I’m ninety nine per cent sure of that. What I suspect has happened, is, the Vatican has enlisted the Mafia to put a stop to your work in the laboratory. Why, I don’t know, but that is how it is shaping.

  “The kidnapping has all the trademarks of the Mafia. It was well planned and carried out, and no clues left, at least, that’s how it first shaped up. However, it’s not easy to do something like this without someone, somewhere, seeing something.

  “I know the local police have been asking lots of questions, but so have my men, and they have different ways of asking. I’m afraid I have been spending quite a bit of your money, but it is working. Money loosens tongues, and I expect to know more soon. What have you told your man at the laboratory? Now they have someone on the ground there, what is going to happen?”

  Frederik sighed. His dream was about to be shattered. His plan to finally avenge his parents, not by punishing the few people who took their lives, but by reshaping the conditions which led to those people emerging in the first place, looked like falling apart. Now, it was about to be blown away, but in his heart, his two sons mattered more, much more.

  He would have to forget trying to change the world, improving it, leaving it in a better state than he found it, but it was a wild dream in any event, and one which would have caused pain to many people. All that mattered now, was getting the boys home safe.

  “I have told Wong he must cooperate with whoever they sent to shut down the lab. Of course, he understood, although he was pretty emotional about it, shattered, but since he heard about the boys, he has been very worried for me.

  “He also feels responsible for word getting out about what he was doing there. There must have been a leak, somewhere, for the church to get wind of it. We did try to keep it under wraps.”

  Peters stroked his chin.

  “I need some more time. I feel we are getting somewhere, and I have several leads that are promising. Can you get Wong to stall a bit, without upsetting their man. We have to give the impression we are cooperating, but we don’t have to be in a hurry about it.”

  Sorensen looked at him sharply. “I will not do anything that might make them think I am not doing what they want. That could be risking my boy’s lives.”

  “Of course, I agree. Whatever is done, must be done carefully, but as I see it, the mafia won’t do anything to harm your lads, not yet, not before they get their hands on the one hundred million. They will know you will demand proof of life before you hand over any cash, so, until that happens, I think the boys are safe. Also, they are most probably also getting paid by the church, who put them up to this. If I am right, they probably won’t be getting the church’s money until the laboratory is shut down.

  “Shutting the lab down is a first step, that was how they came to be involved, so if we can stall that a while, it will give me a bit more time to chase down these leads I have. Frankly, I don’t think what you are doing in that laboratory is of any great interest to our mafia friends. That is the least of their concerns. It’s the money they are interested in. They probably were paid a big fat fee to stage the kidnapping, as leverage on you to shut you down. That’s where the church came in.

  “It’s the church that wants you stopped. If I thought that delaying the shut down would harm the boys, I wouldn’t suggest it, but I don’t think that will happen.”

  Sorensen considered what he had been told, then nodded slowly.

  “Yes, I can see that. I believe you are right. I will ring Wong now.”

  25

  Professor Lee Miu Wong was not happy. When his employer, Mr. Frederik Sorensen, had first outlined his idea of developing a superbug to a reduce the world’s population, Wong had almost laughed. It sounded a preposterous idea, mad. Sorensen was very persuasive, and perhaps there was some glimmer of possibility, that genes could be manipulated, somehow, to achieve this, but Wong thought that, really, the idea was far fetched. What really persuaded him, was the Swedish billionaire’s proposal to set up a laboratory, his laboratory, equipped with the best and latest of technology, and staff it with the best and brightest scientists they could find, and put him, professor Wong in charge. The clincher came with the salary offer.

  Now, after working for so long on the project, Wong was a total convert to Frederik Sorensen’s concept. He had been sceptical at the beginning. It had sounded fanciful, beyond the reach of science, but he and his team had almost achieved it! They were on the cusp of finding a way to do what Sorensen had proposed. The work they had done was brilliant. It would indeed change the world.

  Wong had at first agonised over the ethics of the project, and looked at it from every angle he could think of. Now, he had resolved his misgivings. Yes, the ramifications would be wide spread, it would alter the world’s political dynamics, indeed, it would reshape history. However, looking at it from a world view, reducing the planet’s exploding population was essential, if life was to continue at any sort of decent level. Something had to change the direction in which it was heading, or the cliff’s edge would be reached, and civilisation would topple over.

  That was the final argument that persuaded professor Wong. He was being empowered to play a key role in history, in changing that direction. Wong now regarded himself as a crusader. He was to be a leader, saving the world.

  When he first heard of the kidnapping, his reaction was one of horror. What sort of people would steal children from their parents? With the answer to his own question, came foreboding. Enormous pressure was being applied to Mr. Sorensen, and perhaps it was because he was wealthy, and could afford the money, but there could be another reason. There were many people in the world, who would be bitterly opposed to what they were about to do, and
these people would stand to lose vast sums of money, or influence, once his virus took effect, and population growth suddenly slowed. There were also those who would oppose it on moral, ethical or political grounds. Could the kidnapping possibly be related to this?

  As the first days passed with no news from the kidnappers, Wong’s sense of foreboding increased. From what he had read about kidnappers, they usually demanded money straight away, but no demand had been made. Wong hoped fervently, the kidnapping had nothing to do with his laboratory. Then came the telephone call from his employer, and his worst fears were realised. At first he refused to believe what he was hearing.

  He was to shut down the laboratory, destroy all the material they had so painstakingly developed, and abandon the project. Someone would be coming to supervise the destruction. He began to argue with Sorensen, but he was cut short.

  “Just do it, professor. I don’t like it any more than you do, but we have no choice. We either shut it down, or my boys are killed.”

  Wong was shattered. All that brilliant work, the breakthroughs that would have the leaders of science throughout the world honouring him, it was to come to nothing! When he put the phone down, the professor began to cry.

  The professor didn’t have the heart to tell the others. Instead, he did something he had not done since his student days. He got drunk. Wong armed himself with a large bottle of Vodka, something he rarely touched, shut himself in his room, and got plastered. His bewildered wife did not know what had so upset her husband, he refused to tell her, and Lanfen couldn’t remember saying anything that would cause him to react this way, so stoically, she decided to ignore his behaviour, keep out of his way, and let him get over it.

  Two days later he emerged, bleary eyed, his head throbbing, and called himself a fool. Wong came to a decision. He accepted he had to carry out his boss’s instructions, but he was, first and foremost, a scientist, and what they had discovered, from their testing and experimenting, was science, pure science, and should not be lost to science. His sense of duty to science demanded that did not happen. He would destroy the laboratory as his employer instructed, but he would do his best to preserve what had been discovered.