by James Flynn
The couple drew level with the side entrance of an old red brick building situated on the right-hand side of the lane and suddenly they stopped. Casually, Luke pretended to check his watch, slowing his pace slightly. He glanced subtly at the couple, they were stood looking back at the restaurant, seemingly debating whether to walk back, Luke was creeping closer to their position, knowing that he was now committed and would have to walk past them if they didn’t move. As Luke drew level with a gated car park he was no more than six metres from the target, close enough to make out the man’s bulbous red nose and thinning grey hair. Finally the couple made up their minds and turned back toward Ostergade road and Luke slowed his pace, dropping further back to a safe observation position.
As the target reached Ostergade opposite the Svendson & Son furniture store he turned the usual left turn and walked the twenty metres to his Mercedes. Luke remained static at the mouth of the lane, watching the target finish his usual Friday night routine. The orange sidelights flashed twice as the infra-red key fob unlocked the car. The target opened the door for his wife first, as always, then moved round in front of the car and placed himself into the driver’s seat. The engine rumbled to life and the Mercedes pulled slowly across the left lane and joined the right, heading north for the five-mile drive home.
Luke was not going to follow them; he knew exactly where they were headed. The target lived in a large three-floor house, a typical Danish Gothic structure. He was a man of habit and routine, he would be getting up the next morning at 7.30 a.m. to head to the local gym for an hour’s swim. Luke could sit in the gym car park and wait for him to appear from the early morning dip but he was too well trained for that. The objective had been made clear: observe and document. He would drive back to his rented accommodation, get as much sleep as possible and then return to the target’s house around 5.30 a.m. He hunched up his shoulders as a cold breeze blew a chill through his bones and turned south towards his car.
***
Luke killed his lights for the last twenty yards of the drive. There was no traffic on the road, but then Hillerod only had a population of just over 30,000. Just after the shops he pulled the Honda over against the curb and killed the engine. With the heating off the cold soon began to seep into the car. After several minutes Luke opened the door and got out, locking the door and scanning left to right along the road. Once satisfied, he pulled his hat and gloves on and began the well-worn routine.
He had changed accommodation every five days since arriving in Hillerod and was now on his fourth location. Each time he used a different name and paid cash. The current location was two days old; it was an apartment in a shabby block. The building was only small, two floors high, with tenants split between ground-floor and top-floor apartments. The ground at the front of the flats was a grubby square of wasteland with a wire mesh fence blocking it from the road. The only entrance from the road was a rough-laid path running alongside the wire fence. Luke never walked directly up to the flats when returning, he made sure he did a full walk around the perimeter and surrounding roads. Complacency only ever equals death, his Group 9 instructor’s words played in his ears.
Walking past the waste ground, he took the first left, making sure to dip his head. There was nothing unusual on the road, no car out of place or lingering person. At the end of the road he took another left. The curb line was jammed with cars, but as Luke walked his eyes were drawn to a black BMW 3 Series parked at the end of the road on the opposite side of the street. To anyone else, it would have just looked like another resident car, but to Luke something about it didn’t seem to fit. All the other cars were a few years old, but the BMW was spotless; considering the area, a new BMW 3 Series didn’t seem right. As Luke drew closer he made sure he didn’t move his head to look but shifted his eyes right. He could make out a figure crouched low in the driver’s seat, only a faint outline in the darkness. The driver’s window had been cracked ever so slightly. Turning left at the end of the road, Luke quickened his pace. Whoever the man in the car was, he was clearly trying to keep a low profile. Most people wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving a window open in these temperatures, but anyone trying to avoid detection would know that a steamed-up window would draw unwanted attention.
Luke’s mind clicked into gear as he headed down a dark alleyway. At the end was a corrugated metal hording blocking the alley from the apartments. With two swift moves Luke had scaled the metal and dropped silently onto the other side. He stayed crouched in the shadows for a few moments; there were no sounds. He half-jogged across to the concrete steps that led to his first-floor apartment; removing the glove from his right hand he pulled the Sig Sauer compact pistol from his waistband. He checked the load action and clicked a bullet into the chamber. He needed to feel the weapon and the pressure on the trigger. He walked out onto the exterior walkway, and moved along to his flimsy wooden door. The door seemed fine, nothing was smashed or tampered with. He thrust his gloved hand into his coat pocket and pulled out the single front door key. The room was in darkness; the street light cast orange glows. Luke clicked the door shut, but didn’t turn any lights on, he kept the pistol raised in the dark and let his eyes adjust. After a moment Luke let out his breath and dropped the pistol to his side.
“Do you want a coffee?” Luke asked.
A lamp flicked on. In a corner armchair was Davison, dressed in his standard grey suit and silver tie. “How did you know it was me?” His cockney accent was as strong as ever.Luke clicked the safety back on and pushed the Sig Sauer back into his waistband. “You always wear enough cologne to kill a small animal.”
“Where the hell have you been, Temple?” Davison asked firmly.
“Carrying out the mission as stated.”
“Temple, the idea of a training exercise is so that we can observe and assess you. How the hell can we do that if we can’t find you?”
“The objectives were to covertly observe Mr Skaarsgard, and document his movements. That’s what I did.”
Luke opened a ragged cupboard and retrieved two coffee-stained mugs. “I have full reports and photos at a safe store location.” Never keep sensitive information about your person in case of being caught or captured.
Davison jumped up, “Never mind that, we’ve been looking for you because we have a job, legitimate and hot. Grab your equipment.” He stepped towards the door. “Meet me around the rear of this block in ten minutes, I’ll be waiting in a …”
Luke cut him off, “... a black BMW 3 Series, registration DD 12 453.”
Davison stopped and grinned at him. “Thank God you work for us.”
2.
Saturday 10th November
The Laboratori Nazionali del Gran Sasso was located between the Italian towns of L’Aquila and Teramo, in the shadow of the Gran Sasso Massif Mountains. It was a beautiful region of the country, and now the sun was hanging low in the winter sky the whole area looked like a postcard.
Carabinieri Beltrano eased his black 4x4 Mazda CX-7 into the grey concrete car park, switched off the engine and stepped out. The air was cold and crisp; he took in a deep lungful and sighed out a warm cloud. The fan on the Mazda engine was still whirring after the fast drive from Rome some 120 kilometres south east from where he now stood. The landscape was breathtaking, the mountains’ white peaks brushed the clouds, it was peaceful all around. Beltrano turned 180 degrees on the spot, and noticed a set of light blue Alfa Romeos with white stripes parked fifty metres across the car park, next to them was one white Fiat 500 with a horizontal green stripe running along its side. The white stripes belonged to Polizia di Stato, state police, and the green stripe belonged to Polizia Provinciale, provincial police units. Beltrano could really do without their questions but it was part of the job. He sighed at the thought. Once being a Carabinieri meant answering only to the military and government, but modern bureaucracy had changed all that.
The interior of the office was basic, computers, printers and whiteboards strewn with numbers and squiggles were
the main furnishings. A single provincial officer stood guard. At the far side of the room two state police officers remonstrated with a smartly dressed elderly man. He was raising his voice and Beltrano could hear him clearly;
“But that is unacceptable, two days? Two whole days and you still have nothing. We must continue with our work, things do not wait for your investigation,” the man spoke in English but with a slight Germanic accent.
The provincial officer turned as he heard Beltrano approach.
“Halt! You are not allowed in here, it is a restricted area.”
Beltrano had expected the reaction; he was dressed in cream chinos, a white shirt and a smoky grey jacket. It was all smothered in a knee-length black duffel coat. He operated in the Special Task Department of the Carabinieri, which meant not being weighed down by formalities such as uniform. He flipped open his ID card. The provincial officer took a moment to process the information, and then hesitantly straightened up.
“Sorry Signor, I didn’t realise you had been notified.”
Beltrano didn’t speak, one of the state officers had also spotted him. Beltrano watched him straighten his shirt and stroll regally over; it was clear this officer felt he was in charge.
Upon reaching Beltrano he tipped his head slightly back. “Signor, no unauthorised personnel are allowed in here, this is a crime scene, you will have to be escorted outside.”
Beltrano still didn’t speak; the provincial officer sheepishly leant in to the state officer and spoke quietly into his ear. The state officer’s face showed shock, he shot a glance at Beltrano, and then scrambled to regain an air of authority;
“Sorry Carabinieri, I thought … well, my apologies. As you can see everything is under control, I’m sure this is nothing but a local issue.”
Beltrano was looking over at the elderly gentleman. “Officer …?”
“Nestor.”
“Well Officer Nestor, there are certain government officials that disagree. Is that gentleman an officer?” Beltrano nodded towards the elderly man.
“No, that is Professor Brun, a head technician here at the institute.”
“It’s just that you said no unauthorised personnel. It is a crime scene yet you have a civilian running around?”
The state officer looked slightly embarrassed.
Beltrano continued, “So fill me in, Officer Nestor.”
Nestor straightened, “Two days ago the laboratory reported a break-in, and then yesterday morning they also stated that one of their employees had not reported for work; this was out of the ordinary.”
“And where are we up to now?”
“Well …” Nestor paused, “we have found nothing missing from here, and still no sign of the employee.”
“His name?”
“Professor Ernesto Vittorio.”
Beltrano rubbed his dark grey-flecked stubble. “So in two days you have found nothing missing, or a motivation for the break-in, and no leads on the missing person?”
“I have my theories. I feel it is quite clear that Professor Vittorio has stolen something from the lab, either something for personal use or to sell, God knows what contraptions they have here.”
“And is this office the only area that was broken into?”
“We think so.”
“Officer Nestor, I believe you have done enough thinking.” Beltrano pulled out a neatly folded piece of A4 paper. “I am now heading up this investigation, all the details are on there. My colleague and I will need an office in Teramo station, I’m sure you will be accommodating.”
Officer Nestor fought to repress his obvious discomfort, but there was nothing he could do, the piece of paper was a government decree stating that Carabinieri Beltrano was now leading the investigation. He couldn’t possibly fathom what interest the government or military had with it all, but he knew better than to question it.
Beltrano watched Professor Brun, who was now busying himself at a computer screen. He strolled over.
“I shall talk in English, Mr Brun, as yours is so impeccable.”
Brun eyed Beltrano. “And who might you be?”
Beltrano extended his hand. “I am Carabinieri Beltrano, I will be taking over from Officer Nestor.”
“Taking over in the loosest sense, I assume, as he has left you nothing to take over from.”
Beltrano managed a smile and noted Nestor eyeing them suspiciously.
Brun continued without taking his eyes off the screen, “I knew it wouldn’t be long until you lot arrived.”
“And why would that be?”
Brun looked at the two other officers then turned his head toward Beltrano’s, “Mr Beltrano, I am fully aware that we can only continue our discoveries because of the funding that arrives from many government bodies, including several from this very country. I do not have time for this. I have been asked questions for the last two days, I do not know anything.”
“Of course.” Beltrano walked over to the window. “Fantastic view.”
Brun grunted.
“You seem very busy, Professor.”
“I am, I am.”
Beltrano walked slowly across to the police tape. “You don’t seem very concerned for Professor Vittorio.”
“Should I be? My job is now to make sure things keep happening; discovery is the only importance.”
“Of course. It is true that you are head technician on the OPERA experiment?”
Brun raised his head. “Yes that’s correct. Is that a problem?”
“Well that depends. Am I right in thinking that Professor Vittorio was heading up OPERA?”
“Yes, that is correct, is there a point to this?”
“Just strikes me as odd that a man you worked with day and night for the last ten years goes missing and all you can think about is work?”
Brun stood up from his computer. He stared at Beltrano, then his gaze drifted again to the other two officers. He raised his voice so everyone could hear. “Mr Beltrano, I am incredibly worried about Ernesto, but he would want us to continue, to push forward, not to collapse.” He took off his glasses and sunk back into the desk chair with a resounding sigh.
Beltrano suddenly turned on his heels and approached Officer Nestor. ‘I need to know everything you have so far …”
3.
Luke pulled the Audi A3 out of the queue of cars lining up to collect people from Rome’s Fiumicino airport. He wouldn’t be getting the chance to soak up the historically charged atmosphere of Rome, he would be skirting anti-clockwise around the south west of the city joining the Autostrada up to Teramo. If he could avoid the famous Roman traffic he should be there within two hours.
The Audi’s engine was sharp and responsive; it had been left for collection at the long stay car park, all engine serial numbers would have been removed, but Luke had learnt the hard way that no one could be trusted. He would have to change cars regularly whilst in the country, paying cash for rentals, that way even his Group 9 handlers wouldn’t know his vehicle details. Sometimes the most dangerous enemy is the one within.
Luke mulled over the operation objectives; Ernesto Vittorio, a prominent professor of particle physics, had gone missing. He was a fellow at the Laboratori Nazionali del Gran Sasso, and had been working on a new range of experiments that had been shortened to the acronym OPERA. Luke had only two objectives; first, gain as much information as possible around Vittorio’s disappearance and, second, if the target was alive, locate him and get him onto German soil.
Luke never questioned his objectives; he occupied his mind only with achieving them. Group 9 and the European community were so interested in this disappearance because OPERA was a joint-funded project; it had investment from several areas including European governments, overseas corporate interests, universities and CERN.
The smallest flicker of a memory played across his mind, an echo from a past life. The involuntary spasms of memory were like a stutter he had learnt to control. The Group 9 psychological therapists were not interested in he
lping him embrace the memories, they wanted him to push them deeper. Luke felt the same, he didn’t want them there, they belonged to someone else. He checked the electronic car clock, it was 10.02 a.m.