Hannah came closer to the rail, watching the dolphins jumping, circling around them, even butting Ronnie playfully with their snouts.
He reached out and gently touched Pete’s snout. “It’s warm . . . I thought he’d be cold from the water.”
Pete went still beneath his hand, staring into the boy’s eyes for a long time.
What was going on between them? Hannah wondered.
Magic.
Mystery.
Understanding.
And something else.
Healing.
Trinity College
Dublin, Ireland
1:40 P.M.
Rain pounded the sidewalks and formed massive puddles as Eugenia and Charlie, dressed in hooded slickers, made their way to the west side of campus. Some students, apparently caught without umbrellas, dashed back and forth between buildings.
Eugenia pulled her hood lower over her forehead. “I don’t understand how you Irish can be so cheerful when it’s gloomy and rainy so much of the time.”
Charlie smiled. “Aye, but there’s always a sadness there, just under the skin. We drink to keep it mashed deep down.”
“Ah, that explains a lot.” She gestured to a vine-covered building ahead of them. “That’s the botany department’s greenhouse. Dr. Lampman always goes there to check on growths and cultures at about 1:45 every weekday except Thursday.”
“How do you know?”
“Research. It’s the first rule of dealing with any unknown quantity, especially someone who may be an enemy. Remember that.”
“I will. I’ll put it on my list.” His lips twisted. “A list that’s getting longer and longer.”
“A list that will get longer still, especially if you want to take on Anna Devareau. If you try before you’re ready, she’ll squash you like a bug.”
“I understand, Master Yoda.”
She gave him a perplexed look. “What’s a Yoda?”
“You’re kidding, right? Star Wars, little green guy, teaches the heroes how to kick ass . . .”
“I don’t like science fiction.”
“You’re missing out.”
“I doubt it. Anyway, it’s always important to do your research. It’s not exciting, but it’s vital. I know your father believed in it.”
He nodded. “He drove me crazy with that stuff.”
“In this case, it’s already been done for us. Kirov logged Lampman’s schedule when he was planning how to take the alga samples. Lampman evidently follows a strict routine. That’s good for us.”
They entered the arboretum and followed the signs that pointed them toward the adjoining greenhouse. In a matter of minutes, they moved into the white-tiled structure. The rain was still pounding outside, rattling the upper panes and running down the sides, distorting their views of the outside world like thousands of fun-house mirrors.
“What time is it?” Charlie whispered.
“Always wear a watch. Put that on your list right now. Lampman should be here any—” She stopped and looked ahead. “There he is.”
Lampman was standing on the other side of the greenhouse, hunched over a table of plants. He held a clipboard in front of him, jotting down observations. He either had not heard them, or he did not care that there were suddenly others in his vicinity.
“Hello, Dr. Lampman.” Eugenia smiled as she and Charlie approached him. “How are you today?”
He glanced up from the clipboard and responded absently, “Fine.”
“Sorry to interrupt your work, but I wondered what you might think of this.” She unzipped her rain slicker and pulled out a stack of photos. “Some of these got a little wet, sorry about that.” She showed him the first picture, a shot of two badly decomposed corpses in the driver and passenger seats of a car parked in a wooded area. “These were David and Patricia Hermann, though in the picture it’s difficult to tell who is who. The driver’s skull is a bit bigger if you overlook the smashed-in forehead. That’s probably David, don’t you think?”
Lampman stepped back and held the clipboard close to his chest. “Who are you?”
“Not important right now. These two people were software engineers whom Vincent Gadaire hired to hack into the encrypted files of Senate Appropriations Committee members. He wanted a peek at a new antimissile system. Gadaire got his peek, but the U.S. government started to figure out what the Hermanns had done. Gadaire didn’t want the trail to lead back to him, so he made sure they would never give him up to the authorities. Their bodies sat in their car at the bottom of this ravine for months before they were found. There was a crude attempt to make it look like an accident, but multiple contusions in an automobile interior looks quite a bit different than thirty-five blows from a baseball bat.”
Lampman moistened his lips. “Why are you here? Why are you showing this to me?”
She held up another photo of a corpse with no head or hands. “They eventually identified this one as a defense contractor who was providing classified countertactical weapons to Gadaire. Again, it looked like he was about to cut a deal that included giving up Gadaire.” She held up yet another photo, this one of a bald man missing half his face. “Antonio Venti, who helped Gadaire broker a deal with Al Qaeda. Also killed as he was about to give evidence . . .” She held up a clipping from a French newspaper. “This is Dr. Timothy Hollis, a curator at the Louvre in Paris. He’s recently vanished without a trace.” She paused. “He’s one of the world’s foremost experts on Marinth.”
Lampman stiffened in shock.
Eugenia smiled. “Yes, Marinth. Do you think Gadaire hired him, too?”
Beads of sweat collected on Lampman’s forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Gadaire is a dangerous man to work for, especially if he thinks you may incriminate him. He has a history of eliminating any threat.”
“Assuming that I would ever do any work for this man, why would I ever endanger my life by doing such a foolish thing?”
Eugenia smiled. “But you’ve already done it. About five minutes ago.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know that Gadaire has been having you watched. Remember the night the samples were taken from you?”
Lampman opened his lips to speak, then closed them again.
Eugenia reached into her pocket. “Then it shouldn’t surprise you to learn that he—or his security team—are monitoring your phone calls. How else would he be able to keep such close tabs on people who hold such sensitive information about him?”
Lampman was sweating profusely now. “You haven’t answered my question. What exactly did I do five minutes ago?”
“You used your mobile phone to make a call to the authorities. Ireland’s Special Branch C-3 Section, to be specific.”
“But I didn’t.” Lampman patted his chest. “And my phone’s right here.”
Eugenia lifted her own phone. “And here. I spoofed your number and user account information. And it turns out that my friend here is an exceptional mimic.”
Charlie nodded while Eugenia pulled up a recording application on her phone and played back a portion of a conversation that sounded very much like Lampman speaking to a female special branch agent.
“. . . I had no idea what Gadaire had in mind. If I had known, I would never have gotten involved.”
“You did the right thing by coming to us, Dr. Lampman. I know it wasn’t easy to do.”
“I have a few samples of the alga he wanted me to work with. I can bring it when I come in. But I need to know I’ll be protected.”
“Of course.”
Lampman’s nervousness was being replaced by pure horror.
Eugenia stopped the recording. “I played the part of the agent, by the way. I can’t stand hearing my own voice, but I think Gadaire will be convinced. Don’t you?”
“You bitch,” Lampman said.
Charlie shrugged. “You’re an easy man to imitate. It helps that some of your classroom lectures are on the Int
ernet. I really think I captured your essence.”
“Who are you?”
“Eugenia, your savior, or the woman who’s going to take you down. Your choice.”
“This is insane,” Lampman said. “I’ll have you both arrested.”
“Not likely,” Eugenia said. “Unless you would really like to call Special Branch C-3 Section, and I wouldn’t recommend that. Gadaire will be pissed enough that you called them once.”
“He’ll believe the truth. I know he will.”
“Do you really?” Charlie asked skeptically.
Lampman didn’t answer.
He was on the edge of breaking, Eugenia judged. Time to tighten the final screws in the coffin.
She walked to a row of greenhouse windows that were almost completely fogged from condensation. “Here’s what I think has been happening in the past five minutes. It starts with the phone call. A low-level member of Gadaire’s security staff hears it, then plays it for his boss. He, in turn, plays it for Gadaire. If Gadaire is not available, he plays it for Anna Devareau. Before the recording is even finished playing, the security chief is ordered to kill you. There may be a discussion about how to do it, and whether or not it should appear to be an accident or natural causes. Then they come to a decision.” Eugenia wiped away some of the condensation and peered outside. “Look, they’re discussing it with your faithful shadow right now.”
Lampman walked slowly to the window and stared down at a young man standing in the rain. He was talking on his mobile phone. “Him?”
Eugenia nodded. “I suppose he has the day shift. There are a few different ways they could go. They could inject a syringe of poison into your iced tea. You could be struck by a hit-and-run driver as you walk to your car. Or, if they really wanted to be crass, a bullet would do the trick. Any of those methods would keep you from talking to the authorities about Gadaire’s latest hobby.” She nodded toward the young man on the phone. “They’re probably discussing it with him right now.”
Lampman looked at the person outside. Like the other young man who had been tailing him, this one also carried a backpack and appeared to be a student. As the rain came down harder, he pulled his jacket tighter around him, revealing the awkward bulge of a shoulder holster.
Eugenia turned from the window. “You can also be sure that Gadaire is having your e-mail monitored. We’ve spoofed your address and crafted quite an e-mail from you to the authorities, including lab photos of those samples. It may be overkill, if you’ll pardon the expression. I seriously doubt you’d still be around by the time Gadaire would read it.”
Lampman asked hoarsely, “What do you want from me?”
“Information. That’s all.”
“That’s all? You’ve just ruined my life. Why would I help you?”
“To save your life.”
“How can you do that?” he asked bitterly. “You’ve just finished telling me that you totally destroyed every—” Lampman froze as he stared out the window.
The young man had pocketed his phone and was suddenly walking with purpose toward the greenhouse.
“Our recording must have gone up the chain of command,” Eugenia murmured.
Charlie turned toward Lampman. “And this guy’s orders have come down. What now, Professor?”
Lampman glanced frantically from Eugenia to Charlie. “I don’t want to be on the run for the rest of my life.”
“You won’t be,” Eugenia said. “You’ll just lie low for a few days. I promise. After that, Gadaire won’t be a problem.”
“He’s coming. He’s going to kill me.”
“We’ll take care of it.” Eugenia motioned to Charlie, and they pulled out their semiautomatic handguns. “We came prepared.” She gestured toward the greenhouse floor. “Have a seat. Keep low.”
Eugenia and Lampman crouched behind a plant rack as Charlie sprinted to the other side of the greenhouse. She turned to Lampman. “But there’s a price. Tell us what Gadaire is planning in India.”
“I have no idea.”
Eugenia gave him a disgusted look. “You’re not cooperating. I believe we’ll have to leave.”
A heavy door opened, then swung shut in the connected building. Firm footsteps echoed in the long corridor.
“We have less than a minute,” Eugenia whispered. “Such a short time to decide whether you want to live or die.”
The footsteps grew closer.
“India,” she said.
The pace quickened.
Lampman desperately glanced around, then whispered, “Orissa, India. Chilika Lake. It’s just a test run for the whole country.”
“And Gadaire is there?”
“I’ll tell you later. Please.”
“Now.”
“He’s not there yet. He’s leading a team to Marinth to harvest the TK44 alga he needs. Please, that’s all I know. You have to help me.”
The footsteps stopped. “Dr. Lampman?” The young, male voice spoke again. “Sir?”
Looking at the reflection in the greenhouse glass panes, Eugenia watched the young man as he moved down the center of the room. Meaning, of course, he would be able to see them.
“I’m Paul Reilly, sir. Mr. Gadaire sent me,” the young man said, glancing from side to side. “He gave me a message for you. He said that he’ll need your help to—”
The kid froze when he was just yards away.
Reilly had spotted her and Lampman in the glass, Eugenia thought.
He reached into his jacket.
Now!
She jumped to her feet and whirled around with her gun extended before her. Before she had even completed the move, Charlie had appeared out of nowhere and coldcocked him from behind.
Paul Reilly turned, dazed, and Charlie finished him off with an undercut to the jaw. Reilly’s gun slid across the floor as he fell unconscious.
Eugenia picked up the gun and smiled at Charlie. “Well done.”
“Improvised, like all the best jazz,” Charlie said.
She turned to Lampman. “Stand up. We need to get you out of here. Gadaire’s people may already have more on the way.”
Charlie pointed to the man crumpled on the floor. “I’ll find something to tie him up with and dump him in the gardening shed in the back.”
“Good. I’ll meet you at the boat,” she said. She took Lampman’s arm and walked with him out the building’s side door. The rain had eased up to a gentle sprinkle.
“Where do I go?” he said dazedly.
She handed him a set of keys. “It’s a furnished apartment we were using. Sixteen-oh-two Kinney, Unit D. Rent’s paid until the end of next month.”
“Next month.”
“You won’t need it anywhere that long. Don’t go home, don’t go to work, don’t go anyplace you normally go. Don’t check e-mail. Get as much cash as you can right now and don’t use your credit cards. And give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“Give it to me.”
He pulled out a mobile phone from his breast pocket and handed it to her. She gave him another one in return. “This one is a disposable. Use it until this is over. I’m going to call you on it before we leave Dublin and get more details on Gadaire’s plans.”
“Whatever you want.” He shook his head as they left the building. “I can’t believe any of this.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
“Yeah. Wonderful.”
Eugenia watched him walk down the sidewalk to the street that would take him off campus. He was getting off easy, but it would be worth it if they could get the goods on Gadaire. Once she was sure he was permanently out of sight, she walked around the rear of the arboretum, where Charlie and the young man, Paul Reilly, were smoking cigarettes outside the back doors.
“He’s gone,” Eugenia said. “It worked like a solid-gold charm.”
Charlie and Reilly laughed and bumped fists. “I told you Paul would come through for us,” Charlie said. “We’ve known each other since we were six, and he’s always
had the theater in his blood.”
Paul cocked an eyebrow at him and spoke in his working-class Irish brogue. “Is that your way of calling me a poof? If so, I’ve got plenty of stories about you I can tell.”
Eugenia smiled. “You were very menacing, Paul. Your masculinity is intact.”
“That’s a relief. But I didn’t appreciate Charlie whacking me so hard. He seemed to be enjoying himself far too much.”
Charlie shrugged. “What can I say? I got inspired.” He glanced at Eugenia. “What did you find out from Lampman?”
“Enough. We’ll talk later. Right now we’d better get out of here before Gadaire’s real security guy arrives on the scene.”
“How did you know he wouldn’t burst in during our theatrical extravaganza in there?” Paul asked.
“It was a calculated risk, but Kirov’s notes said he typically gets a sandwich and makes calls while Lampman does his work in the greenhouse.” She checked her watch. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be around when he returns and finds that Lampman is long gone.” She turned to Paul. “Can we reimburse you for your stellar performance?”
“Nah, I had a great time.” He smiled. “And now Charlie owes me. Don’t worry, I’ll collect in kind.”
“But now I owe you, too,” Eugenia said. “I’ll have to see what I can do . . .”
“I hate this,” Hannah said with bared teeth. “I feel like a prisoner.”
Kirov chuckled as he leaned lazily back against the deck rail. “You’re in the middle of the ocean, the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, and you can go anywhere in the world by only telling Melis to up anchor and take off. You’re not being reasonable.”
“I don’t have to be reasonable. And we can’t just take off with Gadaire hovering like a vulture. It’s not safe for Ronnie and Melis.”
“True.”
“Why haven’t we heard from Eugenia? Aren’t you worried?”
“Not yet. It’s only been two days. She’s probably setting up for the kill.”
She turned to look at him. “Are you speaking literally?”
“No, she wouldn’t kill Lampman except in self-defense. But if he’s working with Gadaire with full knowledge, then he’d probably deserve it as much as the doctors who worked in the concentration camps for Hitler.”
Shadow Zone Page 27