by A. D. Winch
Alexander and Sasha took the key to Captain Hudson’s place and left the restaurant first.
Thirty minutes later, Johan, Eric and Ursula did the same. They acted like tourists, found a taxi and asked to be taken to Benarraba. The driver was gruff, and the taxi smelt as if he did not believe in showers, but once they were moving fresh air blew through the car.
Rolling hills and small mountains surrounded them as they left Gaucin behind. Mediterranean trees grew from the dry, dusty land; spread across the hills in clumps and patches. The road twisted and turned. Over the noise of the engine, cicadas could be heard. A few cars passed them, coming back down the mountain but otherwise the road was empty. As they got nearer to their destination, the road split and thinned down to one lane. There were no cars, no houses and no people, just trees, bushes and cicadas. The driver slowed down as the bends increased, but they continued to climb. Within five minutes, they were on a plateau, and they could see the village of Benarraba. Like Gaucin, it was full of white-washed buildings topped with terracotta roofs. The taxi took one last bend and then they drove down into the village.
Johan stopped the taxi at the first house they came to. The car blocked the narrow road, and the driver huffed as he drove away, unhappy with the size of Johan’s tip.
“Where do we go now?” asked Eric.
Ursula looked at the bit of paper with the exact address on and tried unsuccessfully to find a street sign. She showed it to Eric and Johan, but neither of them could help.
“We will find it,” said Johan.
Eric agreed, and the two of them walked off.
“We should ask someone,” shouted Ursula.
“We’ll be okay,” Eric shouted back.
A builder came out of a house nearby, and Ursula showed him the paper. The man read the address and pointed a dusty hand in the opposite direction to that taken by Eric and Johan.
“It’s this way,” shouted Ursula, but she was ignored.
Eric lifted his hand above his head and beckoned her to join them, but he did not bother to look her way.
If they want to go that way, let them, thought Ursula and walked off in the direction she had been shown.
Houses began to close in on her as the road narrowed further. When she looked beyond the white walls, she could see that many houses seemed to be clinging to the steep slopes. She felt that if she leaned against one it would be pushed down the mountain and smash into a million pieces.
She continued walking, enjoying the warm sun and the clean air. As she neared the end of the road, she saw Alexander standing outside one of the houses. Much to Ursula’s relief she saw that this one was securely built on flat ground, overlooking the slopes and the mountains beyond.
“It’s perfect,” smiled Alexander as she neared him.
Ursula couldn’t work out if he were genuine or sarcastic.
“There’s no mobile phone signal, an antique laptop but no internet, and no landline. We are effectively cut off.”
It was a three-storeyed house right on the edge of the village. Like the other houses, it was white-washed but the windows and doors were framed with terracotta bricks. The ground floor windows had ornate black bars protecting them and on the higher floors there were flower boxes in the same style. After staying in Captain Hudson’s house in Paris, Ursula could already see the design touches from his wife.
“Where are Johan and Eric?” Alexander asked, looking worried.
“They refused to ask someone where to go and walked off in the wrong direction.”
“They’ll find us eventually. It’s not a big village,” Alexander said, trying to sound relaxed about it.
Ursula stood in the doorway and looked at the view from the house. Hundreds of trees, all in slightly different shades of green swept out on the slopes surrounding them.
“This is beautiful,” she said and went inside.
Two hours later, Johan and Eric arrived. Johan was swaying as he walked, and Eric was helping him down the narrow road.
Alexander was waiting outside the house. His hands were on his hips and in one hand he was holding his mother’s diary. He looked as if he had just sucked a lemon and was trying to remain calm. When Eric and Johan saw him, they started to giggle, and Johan ended up coughing.
“Where have you been?” asked Alexander, sounding like an angry parent.
“We had a nice tour of the village,” Eric answered with a smile.
“We made some lovely new friends who insisted we join them in a glass or two of Sangria,” Johan added.
“But Eric is only thirteen!”
Johan stopped smiling and looked seriously at Eric, “You are only thirteen! But you told me you were eighty-three.”
They both started to giggle again.
“After all this time together, I find out you have lied to me. I am shocked!”
Johan stumbled; Eric caught him, and they giggled even more.
“You’re acting like a couple of children,” Alexander reprimanded.
“Well, at least one of us is acting his age,” replied Johan. “Eric, you must grow up.”
“You’re drunk!”
Johan dismissed the comment with his hand, “Drunk skunk. You need to lighten up.”
“I’m going to get some water,” Eric announced and walked into the doorframe as he tried to enter the house.
Johan went to follow him, but Alexander took hold of his arm and held him back.
“He’s thirteen!” he repeated. “He’s just a boy!”
This time, Johan looked genuinely serious. “You are a good man Alexander Johansen. He may not say it, but Eric appreciates what you have done for him. You have looked after these two children and protected them as best you can, but they are not going to live to the same age as me nor will they live to the same age as you. From what you have told them, and from my own research, we know that they have a year left at best. Let them live a little before they die. What else do they have?”
“They don’t have to die. I can stop it,” Alexander said desperately. His grip strengthening on Johan’s arm as he spoke.
Johan gently removed Alexander’s fingers from his withered bicep.
“With plankton gloop? I don’t think so. They are not only human. Do not forget this. You are trying to save a fish by giving it oxygen. I am going inside. I will have a siesta, and when I have sobered up, we can discuss this further. Maybe two heads are better than one.”
Johan stumbled through the doorway and went to find a bedroom. Alexander walked a short way from the house and sat on a worn bench to ponder his father’s words. The cicadas were loud but otherwise it was peaceful. He could smell the baked earth and the trees as he admired the rolling hills and mountains that stretched out in front of him.
His mother’s diary rested on his lap. He picked it up and turned to the passage that he could not understand. It was the one when she had seemed to go mad and talked about aliens and spaceships. The words were written neatly across the page, but he couldn’t focus on them.
‘They are not only human. You are trying to save a fish by giving it oxygen,’ thought Alexander. It didn’t make sense.
He began to read the last passage again but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get Johan’s comment out of his head. The words on the page read like a Science Fiction story anyway. UFOs and aliens had never interested him. They were just a product of people’s over fertile imagination or those who did not have a full grip on reality. Yet here was an account by someone he trusted who had her feet firmly rooted in science. His mother may have been eccentric at times, but she was never mad. He picked through the words on the page, trying to find parts that he could contest or throw doubt over, but he found it hard to concentrate.
‘You are trying to save a fish by giving it oxygen, you are trying to save a fish by giving it oxygen, you are trying to save a…’
Suddenly, everything became clear. He knew what they had to do, but first he had to speak to his father.
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***
Chapter 27 – Release Date
Scientists and agents filled the small meeting room. There was much chatter about the events that had taken place on the base, and the noise level gradually rose. Those present interacted with the scientists on the computer screens and were keen to bring them up to speed with the escape of White King. All the seats were taken except for one. It remained vacant, and no one dared sit on it.
As soon as Agent Angel marched in, the room fell silent. He glared at the empty seat and cursed under his breath. Everyone heard him as he then spat, “Schwarzkopf!”
“Let’s begin,” he bellowed and looked at the seven display screens. Doctor Noel Bandura, Olivier Martel and Florence Caron, were all in Morocco. The four remaining screens showed scientists in Iceland, Australia, Alaska, and Diego Garcia. All the faces on the screens were looking at him. They looked scared but not as worried as the faces actually inside the room. Agent Thebe, Agent Elara, Professor Warne, Professor Li and Doctor Khan, looked as if Agent Angel was about to rip their heads off. They were right to be worried, but even Agent Angel knew it was not their fault.
The only person in the room whom he blamed did not look concerned at all. She sat nearest to the podium and fixed him with a look that was impossible to read. Agent Angel could not work out if Jean Kurtz were foolishly brave, a fool or simply oblivious to the trouble she had caused.
Since Schwarzkopf and White King had escaped from the base, new protocols had been introduced, and the weaker links had been replaced. Kurtz only survived because of her connections. If Agent Angel could have done away with both her, and her influential father, he would have done so. Unfortunately, his hands were tied and his one past mistake continued to be an itch that he couldn’t scratch.
“Thebe, Elara, status report.”
Agent Thebe replied, “We have been working with the Mexican authorities, and Team Col have been to Mexico. We found a bus driver who remembered Schwarzkopf and White King boarding at Cuidad Juarez, and disembarking in Mexico City. We got hold of the video footage from the bus station, and we spotted them boarding a bus to Velacruz but that’s where the trail goes cold. We don’t think they took another bus, but they could have used another mode of transport. It is probable that they attempted to, or succeeded in, leaving the country. Velacruz is a thriving port. We have contacted the port authority and have a long list of the ships that left the port during the week after the fugitives arrived in Velacruz. We have started to contact these ships but so far Professor Schwarzkopf and Eric Meyer have not appeared on any passenger or crew manifests. If it were me, I would have given false names and a stack of dollars. Someone would have smuggled them onboard one of the ships if they were paid enough.”
Agent Angel shook his head at the news that they had reached a dead end.
“This is your fault,” he snarled and pointed at Jean Kurtz.
She shifted her position in the chair and smiled nervously at him.
“Find them, Agent Thebe!”
“Yes, Sir.”
Agent Angel walked into the centre of the rectangle and faced four of the display screens.
“You’ve been sent blood, DNA, brain fluid and God-knows-what-else that was extracted from White King. What have you done with it? You first,” he pointed at a heavily made-up female scientist in Iceland.”
“We have been analysing the samples you sent us, but it is proving difficult to keep them in a state of stasis. As soon as the samples are placed into storage they degrade to such an extent that we have to work around the clock – day and night,” she sighed.
“Is that a problem?”
“No, Sir,” she answered instantly.
“Can I make a suggestion?” asked a grey bearded scientist in Alaska.
“It had better be a good one,” replied Agent Angel.
“Stop analysing and just use the samples. The moment we received the pack from you, we put them to work. We took an ovum and spliced White King’s DNA with it. We then placed this in a glass dome and added spermatozoa. We have an embryo already, and we are repeating this with more ovum.”
Agent Angel started to smile, “Now that is what I wanted to hear.”
“Within the next two days, we will reinsert it into the womb of the surrogate mother. If the embryo survives, that is.”
Jean Kurtz smiled knowingly. These findings had already passed over her desk, and she was already using them.
“Share your research with the other labs. I want us all moving down the same path. We all have the same goal here people. Let’s not try to score points against each other. It will only anger me.”
“We will,” replied the Alaskan scientist. “You need to be aware that we are also onto the first stages of growing a human embryo completely into a child on culture media.”
“But that’s never been achieved,” said the scientist in Iceland.
“It doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. We will send you our findings so far.”
“Good work,” applauded Agent Angel. “Now, what is happening in Morocco?”
Olivier Martel spoke, “We strongly believe that we have almost exhausted our questioning of the Benjamins. Consequently, we have almost documented their extensive knowledge of the subject we call Black Queen. We followed Doctor Noel’s advice; we have been extremely pleasant to them, and they have been moved to bigger quarters. We have allowed them to walk around the base, under armed guard, and they have responded well. The woman is more open than the man, but she seems to talk for both of them anyway. They are very eager to talk about Black Queen and have answered all our questions. Florence Caron and I have a week of cross-examination to conduct with them, but after that we do not believe that they will have anything else that is useful for us.”
“Complete your task and then dispose of them.”
“Dispose of them? Do you not mean release them?”
“I know what I mean,” stated Agent Angel. “After making them your guests and showing them our work, do you think that releasing them is the best course of action?”
“I didn’t say that, Sir,” back-tracked Olivier Martel, “I don’t want them released. I was just checking. I understood your choice of words correctly.”
Agent Angel rocked forward and back on his giant feet.
“Dispose of them. Make it look like an accident in the mountains and leave their bodies for the wolves and vultures.”
Olivier Martel agreed, but his voice was shaking as he did so.
There was complete silence in the room, and Agent Angel walked back towards his podium before turning to the scientists in the room.
“That leaves you, Miss Kurtz. What have you and your team discovered this week?” Before she could speak, Agent Angel answered for her, “Nothing. And are the pods open for you to work on?”
Jean Kurtz opened her mouth to speak, but Agent Angel cut her off.
“No, the pods are not open. And why are the pods not open? Because only that traitor Schwarzkopf knew how to open them. And where is Schwarzkopf now? Oh, I know, you helped him to escape.”
Jean Kurtz was doing a passable impression of a goldfish.
“You have a month to show me that you, and your team, are worthwhile. After that month, I will take action. That’s your one and only warning,” he paused. “Everyone, dismissed.”
An hour later, Agent Angel entered Agent Hoover’s surveillance room and stood behind him.
“I have been told you needed to see me, Hoover. I hope this is not a waste of my time. What did you want to tell me? Have you had any luck in locating our fugitives?”
“Not really, Sir. I am searching all ports that ships leaving Velacruz were destined for, but so far no positive IDs but I…”
“Shut up for a second. What’s this on the Temara screen?”
One of the screens flashed in front of them, and the military base appeared larger.
“Zoom in.”
“But I…
“Just wait one goddam second.”
Agent Hoover fell silent and slowly enlarged the image.
“There, in the shade of that tree. Top left. Zoom in further.”
Two figures were sat on chairs near to a sad-looking tree. One was doing some knitting while the other was reading. A soldier stood nearby, and he looked distinctly bored.
“I can’t believe that I have two prisoners sunning themselves! Well, they won’t be around for much longer. Once Martel and Caron have finished their interrogation, we will be saying goodbye forever to Mr. and Mrs Benjamin.”
“Without meaning to sound disrespectful, Sir. I don’t think that would be a good idea,” stuttered Agent Hoover nervously.
Agent Angel crouched down until his mouth was next to Hoover’s ear, “And why do you not think that would be a good idea?”
Instantly, Agent’s Hoover fingers moved over his computer display, and he tapped on a received message.
“This is what I’ve wanted to tell you, and why I contacted you. Look.”
A message appeared on the computer screen. Agent Angel read it and breathed in deeply. Gradually a smile grew across his face. He straightened himself up to his full height and patted Hoover on the back.
“Well done, Hoover. You’ve made me a happy man. I’ll be honest; I didn’t think it would work, but your gamble looks to have paid off.”
Both men read the message again.
“We could clear up here, Hoover. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” and Hoover allowed himself a satisfied smile.
“We need to answer. Give something back, something like a carrot on a rope that they can then hang themselves on.”
Agent Angel looked at the Benjamins. They had not ceased to be useful yet.
“I like you, Agent Hoover,” grinned Agent Angel. “Now, what shall we reply.”
Mémé and Granddad Benjamin had no idea that they were being watched from a satellite orbiting the Earth. They thought the only person interested in them was the soldier assigned to chaperone them, and he didn’t look that interested.