by James Flynn
Luke persisted. “I am not an expert on any of this, I am no scientist … but I like to think I am an expert on people, specifically the nastier side of people. I know that if the potential of these particles had been known by a wider audience then there would be some that would have seen the destructive possibility of the whole thing, or even the potential power play.”
Chung Su did not want to look at him, her hunger had subsided and been replaced with a gluttonous pain.
He continued, “It’s about power … the entire world now works on power, that’s what everyone wants, energy, markets, wealth … and war.”
She could not resist. “And I suppose you want it to make flowers and bring peace? I have seen your behaviour. You are right, Mr … Reid, but do not insult me by pretending you are here for any different reasons.”
There was a flash of fire in her eyes. She was sharp and Luke could not deny that Davison’s primary reason for dispatching him would be to keep Europe in control of the technology, even if he had not relayed that objective directly. The fire gave Luke cause to view her intently. She was a remarkably beautiful creature, delicate defined features, prominent cheekbones and plump lips. He found himself staring into her dark eyes.
“See, you cannot deny it. I am a scientist Mr Reid and I know far better than you the motives of humanity. You talk of power because that is what you fight for. You do not care about what good science can do, you care only for making sure no one else has the power … no matter who suffers.”
Luke did not immediately respond. Power in the right hands is not destructive.
“Miss Chung, by definition someone must have the power, I merely want to see that it rests with a responsible entity.”
Chung Su scoffed, “And who are you to decide who that is? The arrogance …”
“Believe me, I do not tar the world with the motives of the few, perhaps you should not either. The fact is there are elements in the world who would use this power for destructive ends.”
The distant train noise started up. Luke bit down hard on his lip, his head started to pound with the noise. He could hear her voice but he fought back, forcing himself to tune back into Chung Su.
Chung Su frowned; she saw the flash of pain across his face, not overt but visible.
“Sometimes you need people like me to exist,” Luke mumbled into the table.
“And who are you?” His eyes drew her in, they seemed so distant, the feline slant did not hide the pain. For a man who seemed to ride a constant wave of violence and destruction he was nothing like she would have imagined; his frame was slight but strong, taut in its build. His face was nondescript, apart from the kink in his nose and those eyes, one minute lifeless, the next pulsing. He was unreadable, an infrequent twinge of pain shading his face the only clue he had any kind of human connection.
Luke leant in over the table. “What aren’t you telling me? I know you do not want to see Professor Vittorio dead, I believe his alive. I can help him but I need information. If Vittorio dies then I can assure you Brun won’t be far behind.”
“You would say that. I do not know you; you kidnap me and tell me all these lies.”
Luke sank back into his chair; his questioning was getting him nowhere and time was ticking away. Checking his watch he noted the time at 4.30 a.m. The owner flicked on the radio and some romantic pop music floated out. Luke knew he had to change tack.
The café door creaked open, Luke’s hand went to his waistband and Chung Su twisted in her seat. Two men walked in; they looked as though they had experienced many hardships. The first man to walk in had a grey anorak on; his rotund belly caused the coat to tighten as he walked, a patchy jet black beard covered his jowls and dark bags hung under his eyes. His friend who followed him in was like a distorted mirror image; skinny to the point of anorexic, his shabby greying beard did nothing to hide his fallow cheeks. He was dressed in dirty blue tracksuit bottoms and a thick black jumper sagged around his torso, several thread bare holes revealing a red t-shirt underneath. His cheeks were red from the cold, his nose from alcohol abuse.
Chung Su turned back around in her seat, looking at Luke. She saw him relax and she took a swig of Coke. The men greeted the owner like old friends and sat on two stools by the counter, settling into what seemed like a well-worn routine.
“Ok, you win.” Luke took out his wallet and fanned through some euro notes. “None of us has time for this; there is nothing I can get from you.”
Chung Su stiffened.
“Relax, I am not going to kill you, you can get on the next plane and go home.”
Chung Su couldn’t stop her body tensing, her foot began tapping incessantly. He can’t leave me, I need him … I can’t do this alone.
Luke noted her reaction, and knew he had chosen the right direction. He kept up the charade, standing and dropping enough money to cover both meals. “Oh, and by the way, I wouldn’t bother spending much time at your hotel, I guarantee someone is watching it.” With that, Luke started to walk out.
“No, wait!”! He halted at the door, slowly turning to face her.
Chung Su kept her expression blank. “Please do not leave. I cannot get home without you.”
Luke had made the right call; he walked back over to the table and re-took his seat. “What do you mean you can’t get home without me?”
Chung Su had always classed herself as an intelligent woman. Theories seemed to unravel in her mind with ease, but now she was struggling to know what to tell the stranger, or what to conceal; it was a jumbled mess, battered around by fear and exhaustion.
“I have no idea what all of this is … I landed here in a strange country and … then the men, and then you … I just want to go home …” Chung Su felt herself losing control.
Luke became firm. “Slow down … why can you not get home without me?”
Silence descended between them. The radio carried on playing and the three men mumbled in deep tones. Chung Su regained composure. “I have not lied to you, I was invited here for the gala and I am a scientist specialising in the same area as Professors Vittorio and Brun. However … I need to discover what has happened to Professor Vittorio as well.”
Luke stared intently into her eyes. Even after the trauma of the past forty-eight hours her skin still held a radiance.
“Mr Reid, I had nothing to do with any of this, I am simply caught in it.” Chung Su thought hard about every word, she knew the importance to her work and to her beloved homeland; she had to give enough, but not too much. “The invite to the gala was like a dream for me. A girl growing up in North Korea does not normally have the luxury of dreams. This gala was the endorsement that I was doing something right … but just before I was coming a senior military man came to see me. He said that they had an interest in the work being undertaken here by the Professors and that as I was a servant of my country first and foremost it was now my duty to find out what had happened to Professor Vittorio and provide a full report on his disappearance and his work … I would not be allowed to return home without it.”
Chung Su had needed to think on the spot; she hoped she had sprinkled the story with enough truth for it to be believable but not enough to give the full picture. I have a duty. She could not mention the presence of her countrymen in the OPERA programme. The familiar feeling of guilt hit her gut. I knew they were here for so long … and I just took what they fed like a greedy animal.
Luke was silent for a short time. He was processing the words, filtering and assessing. There was progress but the jigsaw still didn’t quite fit together. “And you were sent alone?”
“I was.” Chung Su didn’t waver.
Luke nodded, that part he felt was true; if she had not come alone then he figured there would have been some pretty pissed off Koreans stumbling around Teramo.
“So you see, Mr Reid, you are the only one who can help me. If you are serious about finding Professor Vittorio you will need me. You have something the others don’t have … someone who can
think like him.”
Luke raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?” It frustrated him but there was a truth to what she said, having her around gave him an edge, but when the mission is complete then what? I can’t just let her run back to Korea. He would worry about that later.
“Ok Miss Chung, then I guess we are in this together … we both are not going home until this is finished.”
Chung Su gave a half-smile.
“Miss Chung, people were expecting you here, and I don’t mean Professor Brun. There must have been …”
Luke trailed off, his senses were tingling. What is it? He began to focus in … the radio. Honing in on the Italian man chattering Luke realised it was a news bulletin. What had caught his attention was the word Asian. Key words began leaping out: Observatory … armed man … female scientist … dangerous … Teramo. Luke didn’t need to hear any more. He shot round in his chair to look at the three men, all of whom were now whispering and looking at him and Chung Su.
“What is it?” Chung Su asked.
“We are leaving, quick.” Luke looked back around and the owner had walked through to the kitchen, he was on the phone.
“Shit, ok, move, move.” Luke hurried Chung Su along.
“Why, what’s going on?”
“I think you have just become an Italian celebrity.”
“I don’t understand?” Chung Su hesitated.
“Our description was just given over the radio ...”
Chung Su looked over at the men; they were now stood and staring, mumbling to each other. The owner had come back through from the kitchen and laid a large knife down on the counter.
Luke grabbed her arm. “Let’s go.”
As Luke grabbed the door the owner shouted across in his gruff Abruzzo drawl, “Signorina, tutto bene?”
“What did he say?” Chung Su shrugged off Luke’s grip.
“He asked if you were ok, now come on.”
As Luke touched the door handle the window in the upper part of the door was eclipsed by a shadow and the door started swinging open. Two more men walked in, similarly dressed in ragged clothes and boots. They nodded at the men over at the counter and the taller of the two mumbled something. It was clear that the owner had telephoned his friends and not the authorities. Luke didn’t move; he let himself absorb all the information being presented. If these guys had been called instead of the authorities then they had a notion of taking justice into their own hands, hero complex. It occurred often with men, they see a woman threatened and want to build up their self-worth. The radio report had been very clear.
Weapons, Luke scanned the two new men. His eyes rested on the shorter man’s tool belt that hung slack around his waist. It contained a claw hammer and what seemed a variety of large steel pins. If needs be I engage with him first. The only other obvious weapon was the carving knife on the counter, but behind in the kitchen would be a stash of improvised weaponry. Both these new men were not in particularly good shape; they were younger than the men at the counter but not by much. This was all processed at lightning speed and the conclusion was unavoidable. This is not going to end without engagement.
Chung Su had not followed Luke out to the front of the café, but without realising had backed toward the counter. The owner moved round and took her arm; she flinched.
“Vieni con me, Signorina, ok?” he said in the softest voice he could muster.
“She can’t understand you,” Luke spoke fluently. “Guys, you don’t want to do this. It is not what you think, she is fine.”
Chung Su felt the knot in her stomach grow tighter. She couldn’t understand what they were saying but the atmosphere had an air of inevitability. Luke had to assess his options. He had the pistol tucked into its usual place. He could use it as a deterrent but he quickly dropped the idea. He only had the ammunition that was in the magazine and couldn’t afford to waste it.
Time had run out. The man with the tool belt leaned over and clicked the lock on the front door.
37.
The tobacco crackled and singed as the flame waved gently across its dry and brittle body and the sweet smell wafted skywards. Beltrano never tired of that first intake on a new cigar, and the clipping and preparation aroused a simple joy in him.
Beltrano had spent all night going over the details. He was now sat on the balcony of his rented accommodation; a dilapidated block that housed four apartments. His balcony was nothing more than a slab cut out of the side of the building. Somehow the owners had managed to fit a small white garden table and chair into the space, which he was now sat on, with a cup of coffee and his cigar. He checked his watch and sighed. Right on time one of his mobiles started to vibrate, bouncing across the table.
“Yes?”
“Explain …”
“It was not my decision. It seems I have an overzealous young colleague.”
“Is that meant to be an explanation?”
“Merely the truth. Do you think I wanted their details over the airwaves?”
“Is there any part of this that you are still in control of?”
“I will find out everything and take action.”
“Who is this new person? Is he a threat?”
“A threat? Yes. He is a professional.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I do, he is not unique in this world.”
“I do not care how unique he is. Why is he involved? Who is he working for?”
“I don’t know yet, but I know that the girl was not his aim.”
“What?”
“He did not come to Teramo for the girl. He stumbled upon her, and that is a positive sign.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it means he now has an element that he did not plan for. That makes life difficult.”
“So what brought him here? If he is a professional and dangerous we need to know everything about him ...”
“Trust me ...”
“I do … but I do not like any of this. I want answers and I want action. Make it happen.”
Before he could protest, Beltrano heard the phone line go dead. Shit. He threw the phone down on the table in a rage, sending the cup smashing onto the floor and spraying coffee across the rough tiles. Roaring, he flipped over the table and kicked it against the wall.
He leant over the balcony and took a long puff of the cigar. He knew that things were sliding, but he was not going to let the woman escape his grasp. Things were finally within reach. He closed his eyes and let the cold wind brush across his face. Who is this man? Beltrano knew he was only frustrating himself. Get inside his head. As the cold clung to his skin, he played the events over in his head. The laboratory, the Observatory, Chung Su, Professor Brun … suddenly Beltrano opened his eyes. His next move had struck him.
Throwing the cigar over the railing he grabbed his other phone. Navigating to a number he pressed dial and got a voicemail. “Wake up and call me when you get this. I am heading to L’Aquila.”
38.
Move, hit, move, hit, move, hit … the key to engaging multiple targets in an enclosed space is to economise movement, keep the blows short, low and compact. Luke played the training through in his head, his muscles relaxed and his mind took full control.
The man with the tool belt took a step forward; Luke noted the movement but kept his attention flicking between all four. The café owner moved around the counter and took Chung Su by the arm; she fought against him lightly but he walked her through to the kitchen. Exploding forward, Luke took tool belt by surprise, kicking hard just below his right knee. With a guttural grunt the man buckled slightly, presenting Luke with the left side of his body. Without hesitation Luke drove his knee hard into the man’s kidney. The blow sprawled the man across a table. A gasp of air escaped as he dropped hard to the floor. Always assess the threat level of each person you engage. The person judged at the highest level must be taken on first and dropped the hardest.
Out the corner of his eye Luke saw the owner pick
up the phone in the kitchen. He can’t be allowed to make another call. Scanning the table, Luke picked up a glass salt shaker. He had one clear opportunity and cranking his arm fully back he hurled the shaker through the hatch … it cracked off the top left quarter of the owner’s skull. It didn’t shatter but the thud conveyed the strength of the blow. The owner staggered backwards, not unconscious but shaken, and slumped over a work surface.
The man with the giant stomach jabbed out a stumpy arm. Luke was sharp enough to turn his head to the side and it brushed past his ear, but he could feel the fist was solid. Readjusting his feet, Luke smashed his left fist under the man’s extended arm and instantly followed it up with a punch to the man’s temple. The man grunted and Luke let loose with another blow to the jaw before the man could raise his hands.
The skinny man had lost his appetite for the fight, and held his hands up in surrender. The violent threat had been neutralised, but where were Chung Su and the owner?
Luke raced from the café into the kitchen. There was no sign of either of them. A wooden door stood ajar in the corner and Luke slipped quickly out, leaving the devastation behind.
39.
The morning air stung Luke’s cheeks, the sweat reacting against the cold. He had emerged into a dank, shadowy alleyway that ran the length of the building attached to the café. The smell of rotting food was strong, and several black bin liners were propped against the wall, spilling their loads onto the floor. Luke lifted his feet high to avoid stumbling as his eyes focused only on the shadows ahead. It was silent. Every few paces he passed a rear door to one of the properties. He stopped to listen for a few seconds before passing each one. He heard no noise, and all so far had been locked. Where are they?
As he approached the last door along the alley he stopped to listen … nothing. Then as he took his first step an almighty cry erupted from the shadow of the doorway.
“Bastardo!”
Luke swayed back away from the cry. As he did, a glint of light flashed outward and a blade missed his face by millimetres; he pressed his body against the rear of the building, neutralise the target.