Shadow Zone

by Johansen, Iris; Johansen, Iris

“Kirov is here, isn’t he?”

  “You didn’t tell me that you tried to hire him.”

  Baker’s eyes narrowed. “So you’ve spoken to him.”

  She ignored the question. “You tried to hire Kirov to spy on our expedition.”

  “Gadaire had someone on the inside. I thought I should have someone in there, too.”

  “Who was Gadaire’s inside man?”

  “Who says it was a man?”

  “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? I don’t believe you. It’s just another secret you’ve chosen to keep from me.”

  “I honestly don’t know. But this person’s intel is most likely responsible for the theft of that relic.”

  As usual, Baker was dropping little hints, then skipping away. Whether he had knowledge or not, it was clear he wasn’t going to reveal anything. “What do you want from me, Baker?”

  “Just Kirov. We need to talk to him.”

  “Because you think he has information that can help you nail Gadaire? Do your own intelligence work.”

  “That’s what I’m doing, Hannah. Tell us where to find him and go back to your life. You don’t need to be involved with this. I believed you when you said you didn’t know who Gadaire was. I still don’t think you know what he’s capable of.” Baker stood up and stepped closer to her. “I once found the body of a business partner who had tried to cut him out of a transaction. The man’s teeth had been crushed all the way to the nerve, one by one, by a pair of pliers. I found the guy’s tongue in his shirt pocket. Gadaire is an animal. Don’t get mixed up with him.”

  Baker was obviously trying to shock and frighten her. It was a form of intimidation that always made her angry. “As far as I’m concerned, your job is to get our artifact back,” she said curtly. “Talk to me again when you’ve done that.”

  Baker studied her. “And what will that get me?”

  “I’ll make you a deal. Find the artifact and return it to Melis, and I’ll help you with Kirov, Gadaire, and whoever else is on your agenda. You’ll have my full cooperation.”

  “Time may be running out, Hannah. Help me, and I promise to make a good-faith effort to find the artifact and—”

  “Not good enough.”

  “Be reasonable.”

  “That’s my offer. Don’t talk to me again until you’ve put that trellis in Melis Nemid’s hands.” She stretched her calf muscles. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re cutting into my morning run.”

  As Hannah jogged through the City Centre, she found herself imagining that she saw Baker’s surveillance men several times along the route, tracking her every move.

  The bastard had made her paranoid.

  Perhaps with good reason.

  If her scanned passport had been enough to bring him to Ireland, it wasn’t unreasonable to think that he might have her watched. She would have to take precautions.

  She ran alongside the river, thinking about the words she’d hurled at Baker.

  Find the artifact and return it to Melis, and I’ll help you with Kirov, Gadaire, and whoever else . . .

  She had offered it up so easily without coercion. What the hell was she thinking?

  You’ll have my full cooperation.

  She needed to get that artifact back to Melis, that was what she was thinking. Wasn’t that worth any bargain, any price? Kirov could take care of himself. Surely Melis would agree. All those years, searching for the final pieces of the puzzle . . .

  But even Melis knew where to draw the line. Come to think of it, she probably would have told Baker to go to hell.

  Perhaps it wasn’t so much about Melis but about Kirov himself. She was still experiencing the hurt and anger that wouldn’t leave her. He was coming too close, and she had to find a way of pushing him away.

  Even if it meant betrayal?

  No way. Everything inside her rejected that thought.

  Dammit, she would just have to find a way of dealing with Kirov in her own fashion.

  Sorry, Baker, there’s not going to be any bargain with the devil.

  Trinity College

  Dublin, Ireland

  Even from the other side of the campus rugby field, Hannah recognized Kirov’s strong, confident gait. He exuded power with each step, with a bearing that suggested total ease with himself and the world around him.

  He smiled as he drew closer. “That was a rather cryptic message you left on my voice mail—‘Meet me in front of the place.’ ”

  Hannah pointed toward the botany building behind her. “The place. You didn’t seem to have any problem finding it.”

  “No, but I had thought we were meeting at your hotel.”

  “If you had gone there, you might be spending the next few days being interrogated by U.S. intelligence agents. Baker’s here, and he really wants to see you.”

  Kirov nodded. “I see. He must have tracked you. Are you sure you weren’t followed here to the campus?”

  “Positive.”

  “You’re forgetting something. Your mobile phone. They can use it to track you within a few yards.” Kirov glanced around. “I suspect we’re about to have company.”

  Hannah gave him a disgusted look. “Who do you think I am?” She held up a plastic disposable phone. “Fifty euros from a shop on Nassau Street. I paid in cash, and it came with a hundred minutes of talk time.”

  Kirov smiled. “Well done. And that smartphone of yours?”

  “I took out the SIM card, erased everything, removed the battery, and threw it into the trash.”

  “Hmm. The river would have been better.”

  “I agree. But it would have been hypocritical for a Save the Oceans spokeswoman to discard her old electronics into the Liffey River.” She shrugged. “In any case, no one is tracking me right now.”

  Kirov smiled slightly. “Is it my influence that has made you so good at evading the long arm of the law?”

  “Stop looking so pleased with yourself. It’s really nothing to be proud of.”

  “Oh, but it is.”

  “Whatever. I can’t go back to my hotel or use my credit cards until we’re finished. This has become quite inconvenient for me.”

  “Then go back home to Boston. I’ll take care of things here.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Somehow I didn’t think it was.”

  “We’re wasting time.” She jerked her head back toward the botany building. “Let’s check out the lab.”

  “No, not yet. Because we’re not wasting time. We’re waiting for you to get a glimpse of Dr. Simon Lampman. He’s the one who’s studying the samples for Gadaire.”

  “Naturally you have his entire routine committed to memory.”

  Kirov shrugged. “I do my homework. It’s actually a fairly simple schedule. One doesn’t need a freakish memory like yours to master it.” He pointed to a nearby building. “There. That’s Luce Hall. He’ll cross in front of it any minute now on his way to Pearse Street. He always goes there for lunch.”

  “What does he look like?”

  Kirov pointed to a man carrying a brown satchel and several plastic mailing tubes. “Like that. Introducing Dr. Simon Lampman.”

  Hannah stared at Lampman as he walked past the building to the busy street beyond. He was slightly overweight, with unkempt hair and clothes that were a size too small for him. He moved awkwardly, struggling to keep the tubes under his arms.

  Hannah shook her head. “Does he have any idea how dangerous Gadaire’s project is?”

  “With the money he’s getting, he probably doesn’t care.”

  “Maybe he’ll care after we take the project away from him,” Hannah said. “What’s to stop us from going into the lab and taking it right now? How much security can there be?”

  Kirov smiled, amused. “How eager you are to commit grand larceny. Probably not much, but we can’t risk tipping off Gadaire. We’ll have to hit his office and this lab at the exact same time. Otherwise
, he’ll be hypervigilant.”

  Hannah nodded. “You’re right.”

  “Plus, however we do this, we have to make sure we get all the materials that Lampman has in his possession. It would defeat our purpose if we leave behind even one sample.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “I’m not sure. That requires some thought. That’s why this trip is purely to reconnoiter and find out what we’re going to have to deal with.” Kirov was still staring at the sidewalk where Lampman had just passed. “Okay, look over there. See that young man in the striped shirt?”

  Hannah glanced over to see a boy with longish brown hair, jeans, T-shirt, and a denim jacket. He carried a book bag over his right shoulder. “Yes. What about him?”

  “That’s one of Gadaire’s men.”

  “That kid? Are you sure?”

  Kirov nodded. “Look at the bulge under his jacket. It’s a shoulder holster. He’s one of three men Gadaire has assigned to shadow Dr. Lampman. They work in shifts, and they each blend in with the student population fairly well.”

  “I would have believed he was a student. Does Lampman know he has a shadow?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m sure their purpose is as much to spy on him as it is to protect him.”

  “Spy on him? But he’s working for them.”

  “Gadaire probably wants to make sure Lampman isn’t cooperating with the authorities or perhaps selling out to a competitor. Gadaire is extremely suspicious of his own people. I’m sure he’s also monitoring Lampman’s telephone and e-mails. Whatever we do, we’ll have to take that into account. Wherever Dr. Lampman is, one of Gadaire’s men won’t be far away.”

  “Good to know.”

  Kirov motioned toward the botany building. “Now that both of them are off campus for the next hour or so, this would be an excellent time to have a look at that lab. I need to get some photos of the setup.”

  He led her to the side of the botany building, and they walked down the short flight of stairs that took them to the basement, where signs pointed them in the direction of LABS 1–8. Hannah looked at the students in the corridors and felt positively ancient. It wasn’t unusual. She often felt the same when working with interns on her own projects. They seemed much too young to be college students. Who let all the ninth-graders in there?

  Kirov pointed to a closed door. “Lampman teaches all his advanced laboratory classes in here, and it’s also where most of the advanced equipment can be found . . . Stereoscopic imaging scanners, plotters, everything he might need for his own research.”

  Hannah peered through a narrow window on the door. The lab was empty. She tried the knob. Locked. “So are we going in or what?”

  Kirov glanced at a group of students clustered around another lab entrance down the hall. “Cover me.”

  Hannah casually stepped between him and the students. Kirov produced a small pick gun, inserted it into the knob, and unlocked it within seconds. They stepped into the lab and closed the door behind them.

  Kirov was scanning the room as if trying to memorize every detail. The lab was lined with sinks on all four walls and packed tight with two-person lab stations. At the front of the room, a large lab desk sat atop an elevated teaching platform. Kirov crouched to study the room from a lower level.

  “What are you looking for?” Hannah said.

  “Opportunities.” He looked at the room for a moment longer. “Hmm. No real places to hide. One door. No windows. There are locked storage cabinets here, but there’s also a refrigerated archive center at the end of the hall.”

  Hannah thought for a moment. “We need Lampman to show us where all the samples are.”

  “I thought you were opposed to the brute-force approach.”

  “I am, if there’s a subtler option.”

  “And you have one?”

  She studied the elevated teaching platform. “Well, if I was Lampman, and I was working on a project that was paying extremely well . . .”

  “For a boss who might punish failure with a bullet to the head,” Kirov interjected.

  Hannah nodded. “I would do anything to protect it, especially if it was endangered somehow. Maybe that’s the key. We could—”

  “May I help you?”

  Hannah was startled by a cold voice from the door.

  She and Kirov whirled to see Dr. Simon Lampman standing in the doorway.

  Kirov seemed unfazed. “Good morning. We were just admiring your facilities. Much nicer than others we’ve seen. It’s refreshing to see an academic institution that keeps up with the times.”

  Hannah glanced down to see that Lampman was holding a take-out bag from a sandwich chain. So much for his leisurely lunch. The professor was clearly annoyed. And definitely a bit suspicious. “How did you get in here?”

  “The door was open,” Kirov said. “I hope you don’t mind. We’re looking at schools for our daughter, and we don’t want to send her anyplace that doesn’t have the very best tools.”

  Lampman pressed the lock button and tried to turn the door-knob. “Strange . . .” He looked up with a frown. “There’s something wrong. The lock’s okay. You can’t be in here.”

  “Obviously we can.” Hannah smiled. “Even if it’s by accident. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions about your department’s offerings?”

  “I’m very busy,” Lampman said curtly. “You really should arrange a tour through the admissions department.”

  Kirov crossed his arms. “Surely you wouldn’t mind answering just a few—”

  “I’m sorry,” Lampman said. “I must ask you to leave.”

  Hannah slowly nodded. “Very well. You’ve just made our decision much easier. My daughter is a fine student. She deserves the cooperation and respect of her professors.”

  She and Kirov left the room. They had scarcely entered the corridor when Lampman closed and locked the door behind them. Hannah leaned closer to talk to Kirov when he abruptly placed a hand on her arm. She followed his glance down the corridor.

  The young man with the backpack was only five feet away from them, punching a number on his mobile phone.

  Kirov bumped into him, knocking the phone out of his hands. “I’m so sorry,” Kirov said. “Here, let me—” Kirov stepped back, and the phone cracked under the heel of his shoe. “Oh, no . . .”

  The young man bent over and picked it up. “You prick!”

  “I’m sorry,” Kirov said. “Let me pay you for it.”

  The kid glared at him, squeezed the shattered phone in his hands, and kept walking.

  Kirov was smiling as he and Hannah left the building.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  “He wasn’t making a call. He was taking our picture with his phone. I didn’t want him to have it. He probably overheard some of our conversation with Lampman and was doing it as a precaution. Hopefully, he just thinks we’re a couple of parents blundering our way through the campus. Or maybe not.” Kirov checked his watch. “Let’s head back to the apartment and see what kind of progress Driscoll has made on the stadium. I hope he’s done better than we have.”

  “This is it.” Driscoll pointed to the large flat-screen monitor connected to his laptop. “This is the unit in Gadaire’s office.”

  Kirov, Hannah, and Charlie were gazing at the screen from their canvas folding chairs. The studio apartment now had a much more lived-in look than it had the evening before, with chairs and folding tables set up around the room. The forty-two-inch television monitor was mounted on the wall, next to several large sheets of blueprints for Aviva Stadium.

  Driscoll pointed to a chrome refrigeration unit in a Web site photo. “This is the Fenwick 9500.” He pushed a button on his laptop keyboard and pulled up a frame from their surveillance of Gadaire’s office. “And there, behind his desk, is the same unit.”

  Kirov stood and approached the screen for a closer look. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Gadaire’s designers added cherrywood panels so it would match the
rest of his built-in cabinetry, but that’s definitely it. Look at the three-door layout, plus the rows of vents on top and bottom.” Driscoll punched the keyboard, alternating the shot from Gadaire’s office with the Web site photo.

  Kirov nodded. “You’re right. That’s the same unit. What did you find out about it?”

  “It’s essentially a refrigerated safe, marketed to clinics and physicians’ offices to store narcotics and other controlled substances. If there’s an intrusion, it notifies either an on-site alert panel or an alarm-monitoring service of the client’s choosing. If someone breaks into Gadaire’s unit, I’d wager that it’s programmed to notify stadium security, Gadaire himself, and the private security force he has in his employ.”

  “Not promising,” Kirov said. “Especially since the stadium has twenty-four-hour security on patrol just steps away from Gadaire’s suite. Do you have a way to bypass the unit’s alarm system?”

  Driscoll sighed. “Not quite. One slipup and we’ll have all hell raining down on us.”

  Hannah’s brows rose. “So that’s the report from the world-renowned master thief? It’s too hard?”

  “I didn’t say that, dear lady. I merely mention it to explain why I’m discounting a rather obvious possibility.” Driscoll pointed back to the Web site photo. “There’s another interesting feature with this unit. If the primary refrigeration unit fails for any reason, a battery backup kicks in. An alert and a diagnostic report is transmitted to the company’s local service representative, who is dispatched immediately to repair it.”

  “Interesting,” Kirov said.

  Charlie grinned. “Even more interesting if Dad and I are the repairmen.”

  “I understand.” Kirov thought for a moment. “But you know you’ll be watched every second you’re in there.”

  “Of course,” Driscoll said. “But it won’t matter. I’ll get you what you want. It’s what I do.”

  “I appreciate your confidence, but I’m a little concerned,” Kirov said. “If you’re caught by Gadaire or his men, you won’t be arrested. You’ll be killed in the most unpleasant manner imaginable. He’ll torture you both until you tell him everything about why you’re there and who you’re working for.”