by John Lyman
“Where’s Zamir? I thought we had a meeting with him this morning.”
“He’s on his way. He had some last minute business to finish back on King Saul Boulevard.”
“King Saul Boulevard?”
“That’s the street in Tel Aviv where Mossad headquarters is located. I guess I never showed you the place.”
“Probably a hassle getting through all the security anyway,” Leo said.
“Actually, anyone can just walk right in … at least on the first floor. The entrance to one of the world’s premier intelligence gathering organizations is located in a shabby-looking bank lobby behind a plain door next to a potted plant by the elevators.” Lev smiled. “What are you having for breakfast?”
“Just some toast and eggs … and a strong cup of coffee. You wouldn’t happen to have any Italian roast, would you?”
Lev glanced over at the cook behind the counter. The man looked up and winked, indicating that he had heard Leo’s request.
Leo pulled up a bar stool and looked out over the dunes at the sea beyond.
“No laps today, Cardinal?”
“Not today. I’m just not up to it.”
“A quick swim might do you some good.” Lev had gotten used to seeing Leo swim laps every morning if there was a pool available. After suffering two concussions on his high school boxing team, Leo had switched to swimming in college. The discovery of a new sport at Georgetown University had also coincided with the discovery of another new passiona love for the academic life, especially history.
“Maybe later. Right now I just want to relax and have a hot cup of coffee.”
“Suit yourself, Cardinal.”
Leo was in the process of taking his first sip when a large hand slapped him on the back. “Good morning, Cardinal.” It was Alon. “No swimming today?”
“Maybe after breakfast.” Leo forced a tight smiled as he looked back over his shoulder at the big man standing behind him.
“That’s not good for you, Leo. You need to swim first.”
“I’m beginning to feel like I’m surrounded by a bunch of Jewish mothers.”
“You forget, we’re Christians, but our Jewish heritage compels us to tell you what’s good for you and what’s not good for you. You need to swim.”
For the first time in days, Leo laughed out loud. He loved the fact that his friends knew how to talk to him. When they saw he was feeling down, they goaded him into action, a tactic they had used ever since they noticed his tendency to moodiness after he had become a cardinal.
The muffled throb of an approaching chopper prompted the group to look up. A strange looking dark gray helicopter was hovering just above the villa.
“That thing sure is quiet,” Leo said. “I thought it was much further away.”
“Top secret,” Lev said. “It’s one of our new stealth helicopters. Gabriella told me she just got checked out in it last week, so she’s showing off for Nava and her new boss.”
“Who’s her new boss?”
“Danny Zamir. That’s his new ride.”
Leo yawned. “And I was having so much fun just sitting here with nothing to do.”
As the chopper continued its quiet descent, Leo turned to see John and Ariella walking from the beach across a rickety boardwalk that crossed the dunes. They were accompanied by a small brown dog who began to whine and ran straight to Leo as soon as he saw him.
“Camp!”
The little dog leapt into Leo’s arms and began licking his face, reviving memories of the year before, when they had rescued the half-starved animal at a roadside park next to the Dead Sea. They had named him Camp after their camp in the Negev Desert. Leo felt the dog’s fat little belly as he held him in his arms. “If I didn’t know better, I would say that someone’s eating more than his fair share of food around here.”
“He makes the rounds to all the houses on the compound when we’re gone,” Ariella said. She took Camp’s furry face in her hands and kissed him on the nose. “Who can resist those big brown eyes?”
Just then, they heard men’s voices as Danny Zamir walked around the side of the villa followed by the ever present entourage of casually dressed intelligence types and a few men in military uniforms.
“Good morning, everyone. I trust you are all rested.”
“Good morning, Danny,” Lev said, scowling. “Let’s skip the formalities. Want some breakfast?”
Zamir smiled at Lev as he retrieved a cup of coffee from the bar. “I’m glad to see you’re in such a good mood this morning, Professor.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t sleep last night … the storm.”
“Well, I’m afraid there’s a bigger storm coming, my friends.” Zamir looked for a response but received only blank stares in return. “I hate to break it to you like this, but I’m sending all of you straight back into the teeth of the tiger.”
“We’re going back to France?” Alon asked.
“Yes … tonight.”
Lev’s scowl grew deeper. “I was under the impression that we were all international fugitives.”
“We’re working on that. For obvious reasons, you won’t be returning on the Carmela. We’re flying you in on a military jet … a Boeing C-17 Globemaster.”
“That means we’re either landing at a good-sized airport or a military base,” Alon said.
“Neither. You’ll be landing on a private strip at the base of the Pyrenees near the city of Toulouse. From there you’ll be taken to a safe house on the outskirts of the ancient town of Foix.”
Lev ran his towel through his hair and laid it on the bar. “Foix? What’s in Foix?”
“It’s an ancient Cathar stronghold. That’s where you’ll be meeting with our contact, the man who fled from the Acerbi family years ago … the man who, hopefully, still has some connections inside the family and will be able answer some of our questions.”
“He doesn’t have all the answers,” a voice said.
Looking back over his shoulder, Zamir saw Dr. Diaz standing behind him.
“Good morning, Dr. Diaz.”
“Good morning. I’m afraid the professor was right when he said we didn’t have time for formalities. I need to look at that virus … and I need to do it soon.”
CHAPTER 44
Zamir and the others stared back at Diaz. For a moment, no one responded. His sudden demand to study the pathogen had caught them all off guard.
“Won’t you join us, Dr. Diaz,” Lev said, pushing an empty stool out from the bar with his foot.
“Yes, thank you, Professor.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t get back to you sooner concerning your request to examine the virus, but I’m afraid it’s out of the question. The authorities won’t let a specimen of it anywhere near Israel.”
Zamir cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Lev, but I think we can kill two birds with one stone. We’ve made arrangements for Dr. Diaz to examine a sample of the virus after you return to France.”
“But you’d need a level 4 biohazard lab for that.”
“And we have one … in Toulouse. It’s the technology capitol of France. Most of their aeronautical and pharmaceutical research facilities are located there. In a strange twist, the facility Dr. Diaz will be going to is the headquarters for Acerbi’s pharmaceutical company. However, after the outbreak of the virus, the French government nationalized the facilities and took complete control of all operations. Even Acerbi isn’t allowed on the premises, but the government has drafted some of his scientists to help develop a vaccine, and we’re certain some of them are still loyal to him.”
“How in the world are we going to get inside a government-controlled biohazard lab filled with scientists who are probably hostile to outsiders?” Leo asked.
“Only Dr. Diaz needs access. We know that French intelligence has been compromised by some of Acerbi’s people, but we also have operatives at the facility that will help him once he’s inside.”
“But we’re still considered fugitives in France.”
Zamir paused. “Like I said before, Cardinal, we’re working on that, but there’s still a problem. Someone in Europol has been very persistent in keeping all of you on their most wanted fugitive list.”
“Even the cardinal?”
“Especially the cardinal. Haven’t you been watching the news? They’ve painted him to be some kind of rogue Jesuit warrior … a dark prince of the Catholic Church out to destroy the papacy in Rome and transfer the power of the Church back to France like they did in the 14th century.”
Leo practically fell off his stool. “What!”
“It’s true. A week ago, you were practically Saint Leo. Now, Acerbi and his PR people are trying to make it look as if your miraculous accomplishments last year have gone to your head. They’re saying you’ve become this crazy, egomaniacal, power-hungry Church official who’s banded together with a radical group of Christian survivalists-an agrarian, back-to-the-land zealot who wants to turn back the clock and bring his own brand of radical religion to the masses.”
Leo was stunned. “What did Pope Michael have to say about all of this?”
“Coming to your defense now will only put him in Acerbi’s crosshairs, so he’s agreed not to make any public comment for now. We had a very tough time convincing him that you were safer on the run. In our discussions, he told me you were a warrior at heart, Cardinal. I hope he’s right in that assessment, because that’s a quality that will come in handy in the days ahead.”
“It’s nice to know everyone has so much confidence in me.”
Zamir smiled. “Morelli had a message for you. He told me to tell you … and I quote … that all fame is fleeting, and that you’re the nicest zealot he’s ever known.”
Leo returned Zamir’s smile. He was beginning to like this man. He sipped his coffee and thought of Morelli. The man was right. All fame was fleeting, for it was human nature for people to turn on their heroes just as quickly as they embraced them in the first place. People loved to see their giants tumble from the sky. Maybe it was a form of jealousy, Leo thought. He could hear them now. He’s not so special … he’s just like us.
The sound of a female voice shook Leo from his thoughts. He turned to see Evita Vargas standing behind him.
“I don’t know about you, Cardinal, but I feel like an ocean swim this morning. Why don’t you join me? I’ll meet you back here in a few minutes after I change.” Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked back toward the villa.
Ariella nudged John in the side. “That woman never misses an excuse, does she?”
“The cardinal’s a big boy, Ariella. Besides, he looks like he could use a little diversion right about now.”
“I don’t know … he seems really vulnerable.”
“We’re all a little vulnerable.” John winked. “Maybe I need to take you for a swim.”
Ariella pinched him in the side, making his eyes narrow in pain as he tried to pretend he didn’t feel a thing in front of the other men at the bar.
Zamir was nibbling on a piece of toast, taking quick mental snapshots of everything around him. Decades spent on the streets of foreign lands had taught him to catch every nuance, every glance, every sudden movement-who was watching who. He usually knew when someone was preparing to act just by observing their body language, a universal language he had become fluent in over the years.
“I wish we could be more involved in all of this, Cardinal, but right now you people are the best hope for stopping Acerbi.” Zamir stuffed the rest of his toast into his mouth and brushed the crumbs from his white shirt. “We’re not sure how far he’s dipped into the intelligence community. Like I said last night, so far he’s managed to infiltrate police, military, and intelligence services all over the world. The only way we’re going to get to him without exposing our plan is to send in a group that’s completely secure, and you’re that group. You’re the only ones we feel we can trust.”
Leo finished off his coffee and set his empty cup on the bar. “What about the support people? I mean, what about the pilots flying us to France, all the people around here. There are a lot of eyes on us right now, and any one of them could be working for Acerbi.”
“True, but we work on a need-to-know basis only. Our support groups are made up of unconnected cells that work independently of one another, so that makes it very difficult to fit all the pieces together when a mission is unfolding. The pilots have been hand-picked by me personally … I’ve known most of them since they were children. They don’t know who’s sitting in the back of the plane, and the people in the back of the plane don’t know who’s flying it, but above all they’ve been trained not to ask questions. Someone asking a lot of questions about a mission will stand out. There’s also a total blackout on any communications coming from this villa. We’ve scrambled all the signals and rerouted them through a communications satellite, so if there’s a spy around, he or she will have a very hard time getting word out about who’s here now or where they’re going.”
Lev wrapped his towel around his neck and lifted himself from the barstool. “Why didn’t you just fly the contact person in Foix here to Israel?”
“His information-his rules. Also Dr. Diaz needs to take a look around inside the biohazard lab after our makeup artists change his appearance.”
“Change his appearance … why?”
“I thought you knew. He once worked for Acerbi, and there are still people at the lab who will undoubtedly recognize him.”
Diaz stiffened in his seat as Leo and Lev traded astonished looks.
“You worked for Acerbi?” Lev asked, his eyes boring holes through the man. “Why didn’t you share that little bit of information with us sooner?”
“A lot of people worked for the Acerbi Corporation, Professor Wasserman, but if it’s any consolation to you, I’ve never met the man personally. Think about it. A lot of people work for General Motors, but that doesn’t mean they’re best friends with the CEO. I did happen to see Acerbi once when he was touring the facility I worked at. In fact, it was the same lab I’ll be going to. I was the team leader in viral research there, and I have a feeling that some of my research led to the development of the engineered virus he’s using now. That’s why I need to see it, because if I’m right, he’s turned a very nasty little package loose on the world.”
Diaz peered at Zamir over the rim of his cup as he sipped his coffee. “What about the wheat?”
“We think we’ve located the two farms where they grow the stuff. One is where you said it would be-in France on approximately twenty acres just outside of Toulouse. Due to its location and small size, we agree with you that this is probably their main test site. The other farm is in the Balkans … in Croatia to be exact. That one is much larger. They’ve planted over five-hundred acres. Our Special Forces teams have just arrived at safe houses close to both locations. They’re equipped with the herbicide you suggested.”
Lev was still glaring at Diaz. “I’ll bet that’s the first time they’ve ever been asked to attack a wheat field.”
“Their commander said the same thing,” Zamir said. “In fact, they’re making up a special mission patch to give to each member of the team when they return.”
Diaz seemed disconnected from the conversation. As an academic who was more at home alone in his lab, the easy banter of other men, especially military or athletic types, seemed foreign to him. It was as though speaking to those outside the scientific community caused him actual physical pain. He was much like the kid at school who preferred reading National Geographic in the library to playing a game of kickball, a game that made no sense to him because it had no practical application to the acquisition of knowledge, the reason he was in school to begin with.
“The destruction of those fields is a critical part of the plan,” Diaz said, looking up from his empty coffee cup. “I’ll need the team in France to send me some samples of the wheat before they destroy it.”
“We’ll make sure you receive a sample when you arri
ve in Toulouse, Doctor,” Zamir said. “Also, we’ve learned that the French government has already sent a sample of the pathogen to the lab there for study, and our man inside will make sure you have access to it.”
Leo stood and stretched his arms above his head. “When do we leave, Mr. Zamir?”
“Please, Cardinal … call me Danny. As soon as it gets dark, Gabriella will fly you to a secret base in the desert. The jet will be waiting for you there. The flight to France will take about four hours. After you land, you’ll be taken to a safe house by an Israeli Special Forces team. You’ll all be bunking together.”
“Sounds like you’ve covered all the bases,” Leo said, looking up at the clock behind the bar like a condemned man waiting for his sentence to be carried out.
“Can you keep that food warm for me?” he asked the cook. “I’ve changed my mind. I think I will go for a swim before I eat.”
“No problem, Cardinal. It’ll be here when you get back.”
“Thanks.” Leo turned around to see Evita standing at the end of the bar in a tiny blue bikini. Watching his reaction, the cook turned around and threw the cardinal’s breakfast into the trash.
CHAPTER 45
The salt water burned the inside his nose as the first wave washed over him. Evita was already past the breaking surf, swimming beyond the third sand bar over a rocky underwater ledge that dropped off into an indigo abyss.
“Come on, Leo. The water is crystal clear out here once you’re past the surf.”
Leo had spent countless hours lying on the beach behind the villa, but he had never actually gone swimming in the ocean there, preferring instead to do his early morning laps in the pool behind the house. Now, pushing his way through the turbulent surf, the soundtrack from the movie “Jaws” began to play in his head. Being by the ocean was different from being in the ocean.
Once he was past the pull of the surf, he began to relax as he settled into the rhythmic motion of swimming in the glassy water further out. Evita stroked up beside him and kept pace as they paralleled the beach. Already, he was beginning to see why ocean swimmers were so passionate about their sport. Without the necessity of having to flip around every time he came to the end of a pool, he was free to keep going, making it easier to enter the Zen-like state experienced by those who participated in any form of exercise that involved steady, uninterrupted motion over long distances.