by James Flynn
“That is why I need to know where Miss Chung is. I am sure she is connected to all of this; a North Korean particle physicist shows up at a critical moment in time – I don’t believe in coincidence, Robert.”
You and me both, thought Luke.
“Where is she?”
“She is safe.”
“Why did you take her?”
“Wasn’t planned. The men at the gala would have killed her.”
“Ah, so you are human, that is good to know. The men at the gala, the Iranians, they were there for her? To kill her, you say?”
Luke picked up the mug, but he couldn’t stomach any more. He put it back down and nodded.
Beltrano locked Luke with an intense gaze. “Then you must see how important she is, she holds the key. What has she told you?”
Luke’s attention was temporarily diverted by a banged-up old car pulling into the car park. It had more rust than bodywork. A fat moustachioed man swung the door open and perched on the end of the car seat. He coughed repeatedly, spat some phlegm out onto the concrete then straightened up, shut the door and walked over to the café entrance.
Beltrano turned stern. “Robert! Please focus …”
Believe me, I am focused, thought Luke.
“What has she told you?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“She is frightened, confused.”
Beltrano let out a clipped sigh and reclined in his seat. After a few moments he leant back in. “Robert, I have shown you a lot of respect so far. It is very disappointing when the same courtesy isn’t repaid. You expect me to believe that Chung Su has said nothing to you? You travelled to this country to find information, with an agenda, and you take possession of someone who must have an abundance of information, and you sit there and tell me she has told you nothing? That you have not extracted anything from her?”
Luke could sense Beltrano’s demeanor changing. There was no way Luke was going to give him any information about what Chung Su had divulged. She sat clear in his mind; it was surreal that someone so fragile, so vulnerable could be catapulted into the heart of this situation; it was beyond reason.
“She doesn’t know anything. I was hoping she would, but she is just a scared scientist, all this is beyond her.” Luke spoke calmly.
“You would think that after all these years of people lying to me it would start to hurt less and less … but alas it still causes pain. My job is to find the truth, maybe I got you wrong but I figured that is why someone as highly skilled as you had been sent, to get to the truth.”
Luke kept his eyes locked on Beltrano, who dropped his head and rubbed his temples. He let out a noise of resignation and softened. “Robert, we have only this to go on. I did not know about the Iranians but I will follow up. My guess is that they are after the same as the Koreans: Vittorio’s secrets. I must know where you have Miss Chung … I was hoping that we could do this the easy way.”
“Do I look like someone who takes the easy way?” Luke retorted.
“Let me put it slightly differently. I am not asking to speak with Miss Chung, I am stating that I will and you will need to tell me where she is.”
Luke knew that Beltrano was starting to lose his cool. He needed to push him further. Beltrano was zeroing in on Chung Su so Luke wanted to move away from her.
“How is your partner?” Luke asked.
Beltrano went to bite, then reassessed. “He is ok … healing. I told him not to go chasing after you; I could tell straight away that you were dangerous. That trail you have left in Teramo would carry a long and lengthy sentence. I thought we may be able to reach an agreement, work together to keep everyone safe. You and I know that if the power of what Vittorio has uncovered should fall into the wrong hands we are all in trouble. But it seems that isn’t possible.” Beltrano finished off the now cooling coffee. “I certainly hope you like Italian food, because you are going to be here for a very long time.”
Luke knew he was desperate, the calm veneer was slipping. “I wonder how it would look you having a nice cosy chat with me, un-cuffed, un-arrested in a café before taking me in? That is, of course, after finding me at Vittorio’s flat, shooting a foreign national dead and with no official search of Vittorio’s property.”
Beltrano shook his head and rubbed his beard. “You want to know what I hate most about all of this? The complications, the mess of it all, it is not simple … I like simple. Robert, I have no intention of giving you up to anyone, and as you rightly observe I have obligations that go above the force … there are people high up who have tasked me with the protection of our nation. I have to speak with Miss Chung to be able to do that. She knows more than she has told you. You have to do what’s right.”
Luke wanted to laugh at the statement. Right? If there was one thing Luke Temple knew that Alex Rowland didn’t, it was the fact that the world was not black and white. He would never give up Chung Su, she was his best asset. Is that all it is? He questioned his motive for keeping her close, the beautiful eyes, the slender body, the sharp mind … he left the thought there. What could Beltrano offer him? It appeared very little; he knew nothing of the Iranians, and Luke did not want to probe about the experiment taking place in two days’ time in case it created problems. Two days’ time …
Beltrano placed his right index and middle fingers on the two photos. “This is a real risk, Robert. Let’s work together to protect innocent people. We have to find out what she knows.”
Luke did not relax at the talk of working together. He didn’t work with anyone. He had his objectives, and they did not involve partnerships.
“Where are these two now?” Luke asked.
“We have them. They’re being held at a central location in Rome, high security, but unsurprisingly they aren’t talking. Let’s do a deal; if you give up Chung Su for me to talk to, then I will let you sit with these two for a chat.”
Was Beltrano telling the truth? The two Koreans being held in Rome would explain their disappearance. Luke curled his mouth. Under other circumstances he would definitely want to know more about Chung Su’s colleagues, but it was a distant concept. He had to live in the immediate and he knew he wouldn’t get the chance to speak with them.
“Beltrano, you do not believe Vittorio is the real case here. It is the experiments he was conducting, the potential for those experiments. You want to contain the knowledge, and that is one thing we agree on,” Luke said.
“Good! That is exactly what I want, and the time for doing that is running out.”
“You are right,” Luke spoke calmly. “I will hand her over, but on the condition, Beltrano, that once you have her I get all the information you have on the case. You are the one who keeps saying we want the same thing and can work together … prove it.”
Beltrano weighed the words as he gazed out of the window into the darkness. “I don’t even know who you work for, Robert.”
“No, you don’t, but men in our position must have secrets. You saved my life, so I know I can trust you … and I think you know you can trust me,” Luke lied.
“And how do I know that?” Beltrano asked.
“Because you are not dead,” Luke said coldly.
Beltrano smiled. “Ok, you have a deal.”
“We meet at midnight tomorrow, at La Cattedrale di San Berardo in central Teramo.”
Beltrano raised an eyebrow in scepticism.
“You want her then it’s that or nothing, come alone,” Luke snapped.
Beltrano seemed to have a bounce back in his spirit. “Ok, midnight at La Cattedrale di San Berardo.” He let out a laugh of release. “I knew I was right about you, Robert, you are a good man. Now come on, it’s late, we should eat.”
“No, I’m fine.” Luke stood.
“Oh come on, you cannot go yet. Let us at least chat about things that aren’t so grave.”
Luke Temple was a shell that had been filled by others; chit chat was not his forte. “I will see you tomorrow.�
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“But we are in the middle of a highway, how are you …” Beltrano gave up as Luke walked out into the cold night.
The air was sharp, but Luke welcomed it. He had felt the warm café and coffee start to relax him. The encounter had been unexpected but had gone as well as it could. There was no major manhunt after him thanks to Beltrano. But he felt far from at ease. He didn’t have the full facts, and he did not trust Beltrano to deliver on his word. Trust no one. He had offered Chung Su up as a way to bring the meeting to a close; he was dangling her as bait. He wanted to draw Beltrano out into the open a bit more, get things onto his terms. He now had a designated time and place to meet, and it would allow him to take the initiative. His brain whirred. He wouldn’t inform Chung Su about her colleagues. He needed her still wanting to cooperate, to willingly engage. The moment she knew they were lost to the system she would stand no chance and become despondent.
Chung Su was the hinge that would open the door. Luke pressed his hand against the outline of his phone; he hoped she would shed some light on the photos that were now stored on it. Forty-eight hours was all they had. Something was going to happen on Saturday at 7 p.m. Luke did not know what, but he knew it would change everything. Forty-eight hours was an alarmingly short amount of time.
67.
A violent twitch of the body jolted Chung Su back into the light and the dream faded. Her grandfather was gone. She was lying on top of the bed, her exposed skin rippled with goose bumps from the cold. Still not fully awake, she stood up and tried to make her way over to the window, kicking the plant pot by mistake.
She looked up into the sky, it was black and the low clouds blocked out the stars. Her grandfather’s voice softy played in her ears: You must never be worried if you cannot see the stars, Chung-Chung, because they are always there, just waiting for the clouds to be blown away – waiting to be discovered all over again. A single tear rolled down her cheek.
She looked over at the red numbers on the alarm clock, it was 11.15 p.m. Where is he? She pulled the blind down over the window. Just then, as if he had been listening to her thoughts, the door lock rattled and Luke entered the room.
“Are you ok? You look terrible.” Chung Su moved back to the bed.
“Thanks … and yes, I’m fine.”
Chung Su looked him up and down. He was paler than normal and there was a bluish bruise taking shape on his forehead. He locked the door and sat on the corner of the bed. Chung Su’s melancholy evaporated.
“So what was it like? Did you find anything?”
Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “It was just an ordinary flat, nothing exceptional.” If you ignore the dead Iranians.
Chung Su felt deflated. “How can that be? Did you not find anything?”
“The place looked untouched.” Luke loosened his shoes. “Chung Su, Vittorio’s position, heading up OPERA, it’s an important position, isn’t it? In scientific terms.”
“Well ... I would say yes, it is a very important position.”
“I think the same …” Luke stood and stretched out his back.
“Why do you ask?”
“Professor Vittorio … I am trying to work out why a man who is held in such high regard across the scientific world, who is heading up an absolute cutting-edge research programme for the most powerful and financially liquid organisation on the planet was living in a tiny flat tucked away in a bad neighborhood in a small Abruzzi town, even after it was devastated by an earthquake.” Luke gingerly removed his jumper and t-shirt, his body was bruised from the evening’s events. “There is one thing I found that I need you to take a look at.” Removing the phone from his pocket, Luke brought up the pictures he had taken of the blueprint. “Take a look at these. I found this at Vittorio’s.”
Chung Su’s eyes scanned his torso. It was taut but not overdeveloped. She followed the lines of old and new scars, interspersed with bruises to form a patchwork of brutality.
Luke did not feel awkward stripping off his jeans but he winced as the material brushed over the leg wound. The makeshift dressing was covered in dried blood. Chung Su knew she was staring but did not stop herself.
Luke felt her eyes on him. Her normally porcelain face was flushed, but it still held an undeniable beauty. She was nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.
“You had better check over that, it may be helpful,” Luke said gently.
Chung Su nodded as Luke limped towards the bathroom. He groaned as the warmth of the bathwater prickled against his skin, attacking the tight muscles and stinging the scratches. Before relaxation had a chance to overwhelm him and drag him into a warm comfortable rest the bathroom door clicked open, and in walked Chung Su. At first Luke wasn’t sure if he had in fact fallen into a dream, but as she closed the door behind her he knew it was real. She stood in front of him completely naked, her hair tied up in a bun. Her body was perfectly toned; her waist was small and her stomach flat. Her breasts were pert and surprisingly full for her size; her skin was the same porcelain as her face.
She stood, not knowing what to do next; her hands trembled slightly by her side. Luke did not make a sound, his eyes roamed her frame. She took a step through the steam and knelt down next to the bath. She put her face inches from Luke’s.
“Who are you Luke? I need to know who you are …” She placed her hand into the water, scooped up the warm liquid and gently tipped it over the top of his chest. He let the warm sensation run down his entire body. He closed his eyes and felt her hand caress his face.
“You seem to me like a ghost.” She repeated the tipping of water. Luke nodded his head with his eyes now firmly closed. That was right, he was a ghost. But it had not always been the case. Before his brain could analyse why, the words were already coming out. In the deep exhaustion he felt the mask slip away into the steam. Chung Su’s gentle movements and soft tone took him away.
“Alex Rowland was killed … he withered and died.”
Chung Su stayed quiet, she felt the tidal wave coming.
“That was me once … Alex … until he died. If only she could have taken me with her … I was ready to go with her … I am still ready to go with her…”
The room fell silent.
“Who is she?” Chung Su asked.
“Sarah …” Luke’s leg twitched. “Alex Rowland’s wife … 8.50 a.m. on 7th July 2005, the London Underground circle line 204 between Aldgate and Liverpool Street.” The details were seared into his memory, into Alex Rowland’s memory.
Chung Su could not put the words together at first, then her mouth dropped open. 7th July 2005 … 7/7 … the bombs. She felt a deep sense of shame. The London bombings had been beamed around the world, most seeing them as a tragedy, but in her country they had been held up as a victory, another step toward Western downfall … they had been celebrated. She turned away from him.
“What happened?” she asked.
“She died … that’s what happened. She was on the same carriage as the bomber, there was no way she could have survived. And I didn’t know it then, but Alex Rowland died at the same moment.”
Alex had been an analyst, one of the best, based at GCHQ, tasked with trawling through reams of data and being able to interpret, analyse and suggest a course of action. He had been so good that they had taken him out to Afghanistan and Iraq after 9/11 to work in the field with the ground troops. He was to build success models based on data received and predict scenarios for the troops. Based on this, generals and commanders could devise plans of action.
But Alex Rowland died on the 7th July 2005 and Luke Temple had emerged. He could still remember waking up in the private ward of the hospital after his suicide attempt. The first person he saw was a suited gentlemen who went by the name of David Mulberry, a high-ranking official within the British intelligence service. The man had appeared to give him a lifeline … a way to live from day to day, a way for that life to make sense … Group 9. That man would turn out to be a treacherous snake, but Group 9, a covert intellig
ence agency within covert intelligence, had given him a life … given Luke Temple a life. The rhythmic beating began gently in his head, rattling along the tracks.
“You are in pain …” Chung Su rolled the warm water down over his head.
“They are just bruises and cuts, I will live.”
“No … I do not mean your body.” She gently kissed his forehead.
Chung Su lifted her leg and stepped into the water in between Luke’s spread legs. Luke didn’t move. She slowly lowered herself onto her knees, twitching slightly with the rush of heat.
Luke raised his head, when confronted with human passions he no longer knew instinctively what to do. Chung Su took Luke’s hand and kissed his fingers. She pulled his palm to her breast, looking deep into Luke’s eyes. Luke tightened his hand around and felt the natural firmness, his expression never changing. Chung Su then turned her attention to his wounded leg, gently caressing the dressing. Luke felt the warmth run up his entire body, a different kind of warmth to the water, this sensation was internal and he felt his penis harden.
Chung Su pressed her body against his, brushing her lips against his neck. Her hand moved downwards and took hold. He closed his eyes and felt her lips kiss down his chest, breaking the surface of the water. With a gentle touch she sat up and took him inside her. Luke kept his eyes shut. Chung Su rocked back and forth, making only a slight noise; she leant down and placed her mouth against Luke’s ear.
“It’s ok …”
But Luke was lost in the void of pleasure and pain. Alex Rowland had replaced him and he kept his eyes shut, a thousand images playing through his mind. Chung Su rocked back and forth rhythmically and Alex heard the same voice in his head. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. Chung Su increased in speed, the water splashing, and after a short time Alex felt her tighten and shiver in a climax that prompted his own. He opened his eyes as she lifted herself out of the water and disappeared into the steam. She had craved the intimacy as much as Luke had needed it, but it changed nothing He rested his head back and drifted into an uncomfortable rest, neither asleep nor awake.