Calypso Directive (41 page)

Raimond rubbed his chin. “It seems our employer has been withholding critical information from us. Frau Morley already had an asset in place with Foster, while she left us wasting time looking for him in Prague.”

“Why would she do that, when we could have easily brought Foster in?”

“She was stalling. Probably because she doesn't want to pay. The last time we spoke, she tried to cancel our contract.”

“I thought you changed her mind?”

“So did I.” After a pause, Raimond added, “We
need
this fee, Stefan.”

“I know, but what do we do with her? If we let her go, she'll call Morley.”

“So we don't let her go.”

“You're not suggesting that we kill her?”

“No. At least not yet. First, we find out everything Morley is doing. Then, we decide what to do with her. She could be valuable bargaining leverage if Morley chooses not to pay.”

“Jah. Agreed.”

Raimond and Stefan walked back toward Julie. Raimond stood behind her and began to caress her hair.

“You have been very cooperative so far, Ms. Ponte. You have followed the rules. This makes me very happy. Now, I want you to tell me everything.”

“I'll try,” Julie replied. Her skin crawled as he stroked her. She steeled herself so as not to shudder under his touch.

“Tell me about this ploy with the man you called Agent Nelson. I don't understand the purpose. If you are working for Vyrogen and Ms. Morley is working for Vyrogen, what are you doing in Vienna wasting time?”

She lowered her eyes.

“Ms. Ponte?”

“Foster doesn't know that I work for Vyrogen,” she said. “Morley couldn't risk him running again, so we had to think of a different way to get him back. The stick wasn't working, so we decided to try the carrot. My assignment was to get close to Foster; get him to trust me. But it was taking too long. So, Morley came up with the idea of setting up a meeting with a confederate FBI agent. Nelson was going to offer Foster protection.”

Her candor surprised Raimond. He expected to be breaking fingers by now. “This is a very clever plan, but there is still something that confuses me. Your plan seemed to be working. So why did Meredith call me today and direct me to your apartment?”

A volcano of fury and fear erupted inside her. This was the bastard who had tortured Isabella—broken every finger on her left hand. “You'll have to ask her that question,” she said, through clenched teeth. “I didn't even know she'd hired you until now.”

Raimond began to ask Julie another question, when he was interrupted by the ringing of his mobile phone. He answered the call in German. As he listened to the voice on the other end of receiver, he began to shake. Stefan walked over to his brother and tried to listen to what was being said. Something was very wrong.

Raimond finished the call. His fingers opened and the phone dropped to the ground with a clatter.

“What is it?” Stefan questioned in German.

“Udo is dead. Our brother is dead.”

“What? How?”

“Traffic accident. He drove his motorcycle into a fucking trolley. He was killed instantly. They didn't even take him to the hospital.”

Stefan stared at Raimond, but said nothing.

Raimond began pacing back and forth behind Julie's chair. Then, he stopped and unleashed a guttural, primeval scream full of rage and anguish. His throaty roar reverberated off the metal shelving and uninsulated ceiling structure. The hairs on the back of Julie's neck stood up.

Julie was fluent in German, although she had no intention of making this detail known to her captors. She had not met Udo Zurn, but she surmised that he was the thug who grabbed her from behind at the State Opera. Terror welled up inside her. The violent brother, the one pacing behind her, was infinitely more of a danger to her now than he was five minutes ago. Before, he had been agitated and cold. Now, he was burning with rage and hatred over the news of his brother's death. Julie knew that she would be the likely target of his fury. She would be bludgeoned, whether she cooperated or not.

She began to tremble.

“This is your fault, bitch!” Raimond screamed at Julie. He walked around in front of her, boldly facing her. “You and your American bitch boss, Meredith Morley. If it hadn't been for the two of you, Udo would still be alive.”

Julie looked down at her knees in silence, saying nothing so as to avoid provoking him with her eye contact.

“Answer me!” Raimond screamed at her.

“What do you want me to say? I don't even know what you're talking about.”

He struck the side of her head with his open palm. “Liar!”

“Raimond!” Stefan screamed in a high-pitched voice.

Raimond glared at his younger brother.

“This woman did not kill Udo!”

Raimond grabbed Julie's face with his left hand, gripping her from below the chin—his fingers and thumb squeezing her cheeks. He raised her chin angle so that she was looking up at him.

“Who was the man on the black motorcycle that took Foster?” he questioned, releasing her jaw at the end of the sentence.

“What man? I never saw a man on a motorcycle,” she replied, trembling.

“You lie!” He struck her again, this time across the cheek. She yelped and her eyes began to fill with tears. “It was part of your plan. You arranged the meeting,” he said.

“I have no idea what you're talking about. You parked your fucking van in front of me, blocking my view. Then, someone grabbed me from behind and drugged me,” she said, brazenly.

Raimond drew his hand back to strike her again, but Stefan seized his wrist. “She's telling the truth, Brother. We grabbed her before the motorcycle chase. She was already unconscious by the time the black motorcycle appeared.”

Raimond's face contorted with rage. He jerked his hand free from his younger brother's grip. He walked quickly over to the van, opened the rear cargo door, and disappeared inside. Seconds later, he reemerged, face expressionless, and clenching a pistol in his right hand. He marched over to Julie and pressed the muzzle of the pistol firmly into her temple.

“Tell me who killed Udo!”

“I don't know,” she cried.

“Who is the black rider?” he screamed, spit flying from his lips, veins bulging in his neck and forehead.

“I don't know. I swear I don't know,” she screamed back.

“TELL ME. . . . TELL ME NOW, OR I SWEAR I'LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!”

“
W
HO THE HELL
are you people?” Will asked, scanning the four stoic faces seated opposite him inside a luxury appointed suite at the Wien Intercontinental Hotel.

“My name is Special Agent Reed. You've already met Special Agent Nelson,” Albane said, nodding at AJ. “Collectively, we are members of a special US government interagency task force assigned to investigate cases of multinational espionage and corruption. That is all I am at liberty to disclose to you at this time.”

Will nodded, stood up, and started walking toward the door.

“Where are you going, Mr. Foster?”

“If you're not going to be straight with me, then I'm outta here.”

“The minute you walk out that door, you can forget about rescuing Julie,” she called after him. “You can't get her back on your own.”

He stopped in his tracks, but he did not turn around. With his back to her, he said. “Will you help me rescue her if I stay?”

“We
will
rescue her if you stay. All we ask in return is that you answer our questions about Vyrogen.”

He turned. “What would you like to know?”

•   •   •    

ALBANE LOOKED OVER
her shoulder into the adjoining room at Will. He was sitting on a sofa, lost in thought. She turned back to AJ. The look in AJ's eyes told her damage control was necessary. She could see that his mind was a whirlpool, spinning with questions and doubt. She had years of experience in the Tank to call upon, giving her perspective on the tangled, thorny events of the Vyrogen case as it had unfolded. With less than two days on the job, AJ did not.

“I know what you're thinking, and no AJ, it's not always like this,” she said. Then, laying a hand on his shoulder, she added, “This case is an aberration.”

He searched her eyes, hoping to find a glimmer of truth he could never glean from her perfectly anodyne speech. “Everything has gotten so twisted, I don't know what to think. Since we've left Boston, we've committed espionage against our client, impersonated Czech and US government agents, and kidnapped a man. I thought we were supposed to be the good guys.”

“I know it might not feel like it, but we
are
the good guys. We don't wear uniforms or carry badges, but we do serve a higher calling. Meredith Morley put us into a horrible situation. Not only did she hire us under false pretenses, but she meant to use the Tank as an instrument of malfeasance. We don't work that way, no matter how much money the client is offering.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “And for the record, we didn't kidnap Foster, we saved him from the real bad guys.”

AJ saw the glimmer in her eyes he needed to see. “You're probably right, but that doesn't quell the indigestion I'm feeling right now. This is nasty business. I had no idea the world outside academia was like
this
.”

“The real world is guns and roses; you'll get used to it.” Then, with a smile she added, “Next thing you know, you'll be asking to borrow keys to Kalen's Ducati.”

AJ laughed.

Her expression turned serious. “I need to debrief Nicolora. Please go in the other room and keep an eye on Foster. Don't let him do anything stupid.”

He nodded and did as she instructed.

Albane pressed “0” on her phone.

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Coordinator.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “Coordinator, Social, request conference call with Founder One.”

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Founder One is standing by; let me patch him in.”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “I listened to the entire broadcast of your Foster interview. Consider me up to speed.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “I believe him.”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “So do I.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “Now what? Foster is clearly the victim here: kidnapping, genetic piracy, human rights violations, torture . . . it's a long, dirty list. What Vyrogen did is unconscionable.”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “I know, but before we deal with that, we have the immediate problem of the bounty hunters and Julie Ponte. After Kalen's report from Ponte's apartment, I confronted Meredith about torturing the roommate. She admitted to hiring German bounty hunters to find Foster, but swears she never authorized torture. I have the Coordinator uploading the bounty hunters' bios to your computer as we speak.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “I'm receiving them now.”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “The men we're dealing with are brothers: Raimond, Udo, and Stefan Zurn. Raimond is the brain, Udo is the brute, and Stefan is the tech.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “I don't understand why they are still in the picture. When Meredith hired us, why didn't she have the Zurns stand down?”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “According to Meredith, she tried, but Raimond Zurn refused and went rogue. The case became personal for him. Now, with Udo Zurn dead, we must consider Raimond to be unstable and likely to seek revenge for his brother's death.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “They have Ponte. What do you want us to do?”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “What we always do in situations like this. Rescue her.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “Assuming we're successful, what do we do with Ponte and Foster when we're done?”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “Fly them back to Boston on NIATROSS. From what I've learned tonight, Foster deserves to get his life back. I'll even help him out with a new identity.”

A. Mesnil—
RS:Social
: “What about the client?”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “Don't worry about that; you have more urgent matters to attend to. I'll handle Meredith. Founder One out.”

Albane strode into the adjoining suite and with fire in her eyes, addressed her colleagues. “Gather round. . . . we've got a rescue mission to prep.”

•   •   •    

“
HAVE YOU EVER
participated in a hostage negotiation, Mr. Foster?”

“Call me, Will. And no, I haven't.”

Albane crossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair. “Although some would disagree with me, I consider hostage negotiations to fall under the umbrella of Game Theory. Are you familiar with the logic problem commonly referred to as the Prisoner's Dilemma?”