Shadow Zone (16 page)

“I know you’re suspicious of government types. Hell, so am I. But you can’t screw around here. You can’t let Gadaire get what he wants.”

He took another swallow of his beer. “I don’t intend to.”

“Your intentions might not be good enough.”

“Intentions seldom are unless followed by effective action.”

“What action?”

He didn’t answer.

Her hand tightened on her mug. “Dammit, tell me you have something in mind.”

“Oh, I do.” He met her gaze. “I’m just not sure you want to hear it.”

“Try me. I came a long way to hunt you down. I’m not leaving without answers.”

“Answers can be dangerous. If we end our time together right now, you’ll have no idea of any action that could possibly cause you megatrouble later. It falls under the category of prior knowledge.”

“Prior knowledge of what?”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” He stared at her for a long moment, weighing his options. He finally smiled. “I’m going to steal the sample from Gadaire.”

She had been afraid he was heading in that direction. “According to both you and Baker, Gadaire is a criminal heavyweight with all the manpower that implies. Are you insane?”

“No, insane would be to just hand this over to a government man. Even if he claimed to have your country’s best interests at heart.”

“What do you intend to do with it? Hide it under a rock?”

“It’s tempting. That alga stayed down at the bottom of the sea for centuries without disturbing the balance of power.” He held up his hand as she opened her lips to protest. “No, I know it’s too late. But wouldn’t you like to know what we’re dealing with? If it turns out to have the weapon potential Gadaire believes, I’m not entirely opposed to eventually turning it over to someone for safekeeping, but I’d never give it to just one person or even one government. That’s entirely too much power. Marinth, of course, is Melis Nemid’s passion, and I think she should have a say in the matter.”

“Of course she should.”

“How much input do you think the Defense Intelligence Agency would give her? How much input would it give any of us? I’m not inclined to bring in the police or any government authority. That would be the quickest way to lose control of the situation.”

“And you can’t stand not to be in control, can you? You were sole authority on that submarine for too long.”

“Practically all my adult life. It was a necessity that I learned to trust my own judgment.”

“And you never made a mistake?”

“I made mistakes, but I never tried to cover them up, and I never made the same mistake twice. As captain of a nuclear submarine, I was too visible to get away with that shit. But government agencies are different. They can hide their corruption or inefficiencies in a thousand tiny cubbyholes. I’d rather depend on myself.” He leaned back in his chair, and added softly, “Like you, Hannah. I’m not the only one who is a control freak. You’re getting over the first shock and feeling the same dread I am of letting Baker come in and run the show.”

Hannah stared down at the tabletop. “What makes you think you can just waltz into Gadaire’s office and walk out with the sample?”

Kirov smiled.

Hannah knew that smile. She was starting to waver, and he knew it. Damn him.

“I got a little outside help. Martin Driscoll, a man who has made a career of waltzing in and out of supposedly secure places. I’ll introduce you to him tonight.”

Hannah stared at him. Was she actually considering this?

Kirov pointed to her mug. “Drink up. Contrary to what most Americans believe, the beer here is served cold. You don’t want it to get warm.”

“You’re pretty damn sure I’ll go along with this. Otherwise, you never would have told me about your plans.”

He shrugged. “You and I look at things very much the same way. I could be wrong, of course. In any case, I’m now at your mercy. It’s whatever you say, whatever you want.”

“You’d never allow yourself to be at anyone’s mercy, Kirov.”

“Oh, but I would,” he said quietly. “It just has to be under very special circumstances. It would be my pleasure to be at your mercy in any number of situations, Hannah.”

Look away from him. She mustn’t feel like this. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks but finally managed to pull her gaze away. “I don’t believe you’re capable of giving up power to anyone. I may call your bluff someday.”

He smiled. “I look forward to it. But now I think you have a decision to make.”

Yes, she did. She thought about it for another moment. Then she sat up straight in her chair. “If we’re going to do this, we need to do it right.”

His lip curled in the faintest smile. “We?”

“We. And we can’t just hit Gadaire’s office.” Hannah picked up her mug and took a long drink before setting it down with a firm click on the tabletop. She was thinking hard, weighing options. “We need to break into the Trinity College lab at the same time.”

CHAPTER
8

Gadaire strolled across the grassy main square of Trinity College and made his way toward the vine-covered herbarium, a building that housed hundreds of thousands of botanical samples.

Lights were illuminating the building. Good, Lampman was burning the midnight oil on the project. That was what he liked to see.

As he entered, Dr. Simon Lampman lowered his clipboard, obviously surprised. And, perhaps, even a bit frightened.

Excellent.

“Mr. Gadaire . . . I didn’t realize we had a meeting scheduled.”

“We don’t. I’m just here for a bit of reassurance.”

“About what?”

“Convince me that I’m not wasting my time with you.”

Lampman scratched his face in the place once occupied by a bushy white beard he’d had when Gadaire had first met him. The facial hair was gone, Gadaire noted, but the nervous habits remained. “I told you there were no guarantees. You may think this is a colossal waste of time, but in science most of our time and effort is spent eliminating possibilities.”

“And how many possibilities have you eliminated?”

“Thousands. But you have to realize that this is a most unusual assignment you’ve given me. You want me to tell you what can cause these TK44 alga samples to acquire very dramatic properties, which is all well and good. I’ve tackled projects like this before, but it helps to have a sample that reflects the final state.”

“As much as I’d like to provide you with the ‘after’ sample, it probably hasn’t existed for thousands of years. You knew this going in, Dr. Lampman. If this is too much for you, perhaps Taylor McDaniel or Chad Foushee at Oxford would like my money. I understand they’re doing some impressive things in the botany program there.”

He stiffened. “They’re good. Not as good as I am, but good enough. But if you’re still concerned about confidentiality, you’d be making a mistake. Your secret might be safe with them until the first scientific conference, when they’d be in the hotel bar bragging to all of us about the money they were making off you. A drink or two after that, they’d be telling us exactly what the project is about.” Lampman shrugged. “But if you don’t care about that . . .”

Gadaire hadn’t expected such a well-thought-out defense. Lampman might be intimidated, but he wasn’t going to cave. “Don’t play me. We need to move this along. What more do you need?”

“It’s not a matter of resources. We’re dealing with living cultures that need time to grow. We must be patient.”

“I don’t have time to be patient. Is there anything else I can supply you with?”

Lampman thought for a moment. “Information. A clue, a hint, anything you can give me from the historical record.”

“We’re working on that.” Gadaire felt his sinuses closing as they always did when he came into the herbarium. Damned plants. He was probably allergic to a dozen of them. He should have waited and had Lampman come to him, but he’d wanted him to know that he might drop in on him at any time. A little pressure never hurt. Lampman worked here in his ivory tower and forgot who was in control. He was sensing that the professor might have ambitions, and that could be dangerous. Lampman didn’t seem to realize his only task was to produce and produce fast. Gadaire might have to reinforce that part of their agreement. But right now he had to get out of here. He backed away from Lampman and turned toward the door. “As soon as I know anything,
you’ll
know. But in the meantime, I expect results from you. Instead of relying on historical data, creative thinking seems to be in order.” He headed for the door. “I want something on my desk by next week.”

Hannah walked with Kirov down a back alley in Dublin’s Liberties district. The cobblestone paths were wet, and the night air was thick with the spicy odor of hops from the nearby Guinness brewery. She smiled. “I see that you’ve wasted no time making yourself comfortable in another city’s seedy underbelly.”

“I’m comfortable wherever I am. It’s only a mind-set. This is just temporary. As a matter of fact, my partners and I are relocating tonight.”

“Relocating where?”

“I’ve rented a place closer to the target. I already have a surveillance camera there trained on the arena’s private entrance to chart the comings and goings of Gadaire and his team. I figure it’s time we move our base of operations there.”

They rounded a corner, and Hannah spotted a white-paneled van with three people standing next to it. As Kirov led her toward it, she turned to him. “Friends of yours?”

He nodded. “And of yours.”

As they came closer Hannah tried to make out the figures gathered beneath a building-mounted streetlight. A man in his sixties, a less-polished man in his midtwenties, and . . .

“It’s really not nice to keep people waiting,” Eugenia said as she started toward them.

Hannah sighed and shook her head. “I thought you were going to wait at the hotel.”

“I thought so, too. Not my style. Too boring. I decided to shadow you to the bridge and make sure nothing went wrong. Good thing I did, because Charlie here was going to put a bullet into our friend Walsh.”

Kirov said curtly, “I told you to stay here, Charlie.”

“Sorry, Kirov,” Charlie said. “I thought you needed backup.”

“I would have asked for help if I’d needed it,” Kirov said. “What’s wrong with your hand?” Charlie’s right hand was tucked between his left biceps and torso. “What did you do to it?”

“Actually, I did it,” Eugenia said. “On our way back here, he tried to overpower me. He thought he could pin me down.”

Charlie showed Kirov his swollen hand. “She tried to break my hand.”

“If she had really tried to do that, she could have done it and much worse,” Kirov said. “You’re lucky you’re not in a hospital emergency room trying to get your hand reattached to your wrist.”

Eugenia smiled as she hugged Kirov. “You always know just the right thing to say to flatter me.” She turned back to Charlie. “Put it on ice, and it will be fine in the morning.”

Kirov stepped back from Eugenia and shook his head at her. “I
suppose
it’s nice to see you again, my indiscreet little busybody.”

She clicked her tongue in response. “I didn’t like the way you had treated my friend Hannah. The aloof-asshole routine worked for you when you were younger, Kirov, but now it’s just rude. Don’t do it again.”

“I’ll try, but the aloof-asshole persona fits me too well, Eugenia.” Kirov turned back toward the group. “Hannah Bryson, meet Martin Driscoll. He’s the man I told you about.”

Driscoll took her hand with an elegant panache. For an amused moment she thought he was going to kiss it, but he only gave a quick squeeze. “My privilege, dear lady. I’ve gotten into many tougher places before, so don’t you worry. Nothing’s going to stand between me and a few paltry dishes of your alga.”

Hannah smiled. “Nicely put. It’s not exactly diamonds on the French Riviera, is it?”

“No, ma’am. But a job is a job. And I already have some ideas about how we’re going to pull it off.”

“Good,” Kirov said. “Because I’ve just been informed that we’re also going to be raiding the labs of Trinity College.”

Driscoll looked as if he had just heard a joke he didn’t understand. “Right. So will this be before or after we break into the headquarters of an international arms merchant?”

“We’ll figure that one out later,” Kirov said. “But Hannah made a believer out of me. We should do it.”

“And I suppose you do everything that a pretty woman tells you to do. Not that I blame you. Hormones can do crazy things to a man’s judgment.” He nodded to Eugenia. “And here’s another lovely lady. My boy goes out for a pack of smokes, comes back with this pretty little woman, a mangled hand, and a story about how you were duped into meeting another woman from your past. And now you tell me that this woman wants us to break into Trinity College?”

“It’s not like we’re after the
Book of Kells,
” Kirov said. “But I have a feeling you’ll charge me as if we were.”

“A fair day’s wage for a job well-done.” Driscoll winked at Hannah. “I’m sure the lady agrees.”

“The lady agrees,” Hannah said.

Kirov rolled his eyes. “Before the lady drives me to the poorhouse, I propose we discuss this later. Right now, we’re packed up and ready to move to our new base of operations. I propose we pile into the van and continue our conversation there.”

Half an hour later, they entered the sparsely decorated eighth-story apartment that Kirov had rented. The ancient building elevator had groaned and whined all the way up, but the apartment itself was in new condition, featuring a window that offered a spectacular view of Aviva Stadium.

“It looks like a spaceship,” Hannah said, gazing at the illuminated structure in front of her. “I like it.”

“I knew you would,” Kirov said. “It was my first thought when I saw it. Those modernistic curves are your aesthetic all the way.”

Eugenia stepped around a tripod-mounted video camera set up in front of the window. “Your camera, Kirov? I thought your Peeping Tom days were behind you.”

Kirov peered at the camera’s LCD viewfinder. “You know what they say . . . Once a voyeur, always a voyeur.” Satisfied with what he saw in the viewfinder, Kirov moved back. “I actually set this up to keep tabs on one of the arena’s private entrances, the one that Gadaire, his driver, and his private security team use. The video is stored on a hard drive down there on the floor. Charlie, it will be your job to scan through the recordings and write down the make and license-plate number of every vehicle going in, plus the day and time.”