by T E Stouyer
“I suppose it makes sense,” Jenkins agreed. “Either way, we’ll soon know for sure.”
They arrived at the head of the front stalls, near the stage. Jenkins proceeded alone down row A and made his way to seat 13—which was only four seats away. Once there, he began a careful examination of the chair’s padding and metal base, and of the floor underneath it.
After what felt like an interminable few seconds, Jenkins suddenly froze, crouching with one knee on the ground as he probed the floor’s wooden panels with his fingers.
“Did you find something?” Schaffer asked, a rare trace of excitement in his voice.
“Perhaps …” Jenkins replied.
He pulled out a military-type folding knife and ran the blade along one of the floor lines. But the panel he was trying to reach was the one farthest away from him, at the corner of the step delimiting the next row. Jenkins needed to adjust his body position a few times as he tried to angle the tip of the blade in the desired way.
Once the blade was secured in place, he flicked his wrist outward and popped out a wooden panel.
Leicester and Schaffer watched in solemn silence as Jenkins dug his fingers inside the opening and extracted a small metallic box wrapped inside a plastic pouch.
Jenkins stood up and walked back to them. “It was well hidden,” he said. “The slit in the floor was barely perceptible. You’d never notice it unless you knew to look for it.”
The three pairs of eyes converged on the box. It was cylindrical, and covered with a dozen or so hemispheres that were sticking out of its smooth surface, each one labelled with a white drawing of a geometric shape. As Jenkins examined the semi-spheres, he realized they weren’t part of the metal casing as he originally thought. But rather bulging from underneath it, like the buttons on a computer keyboard.
“The data card has to be inside,” he said.
“Well, that certainly is an interesting twist,” Leicester remarked.
“I assume those symbols are the key to opening the box,” Schaffer said.
“A logical assumption,” Leicester concurred.
“We probably just need to press the correct button, or button combination,” Jenkins said. “And knowing Adam, there’s a good chance pressing the wrong one will result in the destruction of the data card.”
“Maybe we could x-ray it,” Schaffer suggested. “We might find a way to bypass whatever security measures Adam implemented.”
“Do you honestly believe he wouldn’t have considered that?” Jenkins countered. “No. I guarantee you the x-ray will be of no help. If we try to be too clever about this, and attempt to open the box any other way than Adam intended, we will lose the card. Trust me.”
“Fine,” said Leicester. “You knew him far better than Karl and I did. We’ll defer to your judgement.”
Jenkins began to examine the box, under Leicester’s and Schaffer’s captivated gazes. He scrutinized every inch of the metallic cylinder, gently turning it over and spinning it around to observe it from different angles.
The auditorium had fallen as silent as a graveyard. And the tension in the air had become almost palpable. Years of searching, of plotting and scheming, of bribing and threatening. All of it came down to this one action. A mistake now, and it would all have been for nothing.
All three men recognized the importance of the moment.
Schaffer stood transfixed, staring unblinkingly at the strange cylinder as though it exerted some kind of magnetic pull on his gaze. And a rare frown had formed on Leicester’s brow. There wasn’t even a trace of his usual all-knowing smile.
Even Jenkins, a hardened soldier with nerves of steel, wasn’t completely immune from the effects of the overwhelming pressure that had built up around them. His heart rate had significantly increased, and his fingers felt somewhat stiffer than usual as he handled the cold metallic object.
But as he studied the various shapes drawn all over the box, trying to divine their hidden meaning, Jenkins suddenly recalled that strange line in the second clue, ‘set the dot’.
He immediately understood what it meant.
A wave of calm rippled through his veins, relieving the tightness in his chest and loosening the tension in his fingers. The answer appeared so simple now. Just as he had expected.
With a look of calm confidence in his eyes, Jenkins once again scanned the drawings on the bulges. He could only spot three that were perfectly round. But two of those were drawings of a hollowed circle. Only one of them was a full disc. A dot. He was about to press it when he remembered something else. There were two dots in the poem. There should be two of them. He kept his right thumb on the first dot and rotated the box slowly to check the other symbols.
Leicester and Schaffer continued to watch Jenkins in silence. Waiting. There had been no need for words. The same thought had occurred to them, so they understood what he was doing.
Having rotated the cylinder by about 180 degrees, Jenkins abruptly stopped. His eyes no longer moved from left to right in a sweeping pattern. They were now fixed on a specific point.
“Have you found the second dot?” Leicester asked him.
“Yes,” Jenkins replied. Without hesitation, he placed his left index finger on the other white disc and pressed the two buttons simultaneously.
The box’s internal mechanism immediately clicked into motion. Like tumbling dominos, one by one the other hemispheres sunk into the metal casing in rapid succession. Once the final rounded button locked into place, the box twisted around itself as the left and right halves of the cylinder began to rotate in opposite directions.
The rotations ended with a sharp clicking sound, and each side abruptly pulled away from the other. The only part still connecting the two halves of the cylinder was a metallic strip fixed at their center. The strip had a shallow indentation on its surface. And inside it was a data card.
Schaffer’s eyes stretched open. “Finally. It’s finally ours.” But then the German frowned. “What about the password?” he wondered aloud. “That woman detective told us we would need it to access the information inside the card.”
“It must be hidden in that strange poem,” said Jenkins.
“No matter,” Leicester declared. “If a password’s required, I’m confident we’ll crack it, in time. The important thing is that we have the card.” He stretched out his hand. “Mr. Jenkins.”
Jenkins briefly gazed at his employer and said, “I can’t do that, sir.”
Leicester stared at him, bemused. “I dare say, Mr. Jenkins, you’ve chosen a rather inappropriate time to develop a sense of humour.”
Jenkins said nothing and put the card inside his inner jacket pocket.
“What on earth are you doing?” Leicester demanded. “Have you gone mad?”
Schaffer turned to the Briton. “I’m sorry, Andrew. But we can’t let you have it.”
“What?” Kincade asked as he kept his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel.
“I said, how much longer until we get there?” Rock shouted from the back of the van.
Kincade glanced at the satnav. “Another five minutes according to that thing.”
“I still don’t get why you guys wouldn’t let me drive,” Soran complained.
The young man was seated on a stool, facing a computer and an array of electronic equipment. Sonar was seated to his right and was looking over their earpieces.
Opposite the two, on the other side of the van, Rock, Lucielle, and Doc Chen were cramped on a small padded bench.
“Drive? Are you kidding?” the giant sneered. “Heck, I’m not sure it was a good idea to even let you come along.”
“Be reasonable,” Doc told Soran. “You know it wouldn’t have been practical. You already have plenty to do before we get there. Starting with getting ready to hack the security cameras.”
“Hulin’s right,” said Arianne, who was in the front passenger seat, next to Kincade. “Please try to focus. There’s little time left.”
�
�Fine, fine,” Soran said as he typed away at his keyboard.
“Speaking of bringing people along,” Rock said. “Can anyone tell me again why she’s here?” The giant peered down at Lucielle who was seated to his left, sandwiched between him and Doc.
The young girl had to tilt her head all the way back in order to gaze up at him. “What’s your problem?” she asked in a belligerent tone.
“Truth be told,” said Kincade as he glanced at Arianne. “I’m not sure it was such a good idea, either. You said it yourself, regardless of how it all turns out, we’re bound to find trouble waiting for us.”
She lowered her eyes. “I know. I really don’t like having her anywhere near danger. But Ashrem was right. The data card was always intended for Luce. Just like the necklace. Adam only asked me to hold on to it because, back then, she was still a baby. For all we know, we might not be able to retrieve the card unless she’s physically present. Personally, I doubt it’ll be the case, but we can’t take the chance. This will be our one and only opportunity to retrieve it.” Arianne turned towards the back and gave her sister a stern look. “Remember Luce, you’re staying in the van with Soran, until I come back for you, is that clear?”
“Yes,” the girl replied in a timid voice.
Rock shrugged. “I still think we should have left her with Ashrem and the old man.”
Lucielle glowered at him but said nothing.
“It’s too bad Ashrem hasn’t recovered yet,” Soran said. “Let’s hope we don’t need him.”
“I know,” Sonar agreed. “He really wanted to come, too. He looked so worried when we left.”
“If you ask me, the old man looked a lot more worried,” Rock commented.
“That’s probably because the professor’s just as concerned for the detective as he is for us,” Doc said. “He seems very protective of her, considering they’ve just met.”
“Yeah, I guess he likes her,” said the giant.
“I like her, too,” said Lucielle. “She’s going to be OK, isn’t she?”
Rock shrugged again. “How should we know? You’re the genius. You tell us.”
Soran and Sonar turned around and shook their heads disapprovingly at the giant, while Doc gave him a chastising look.
“What?” Rock complained when he saw the others’ reactions.
“Don’t worry, Luce,” Kincade called out from the front. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” He then shot a quick glance at Arianne and said, “She will, right?”
The young woman peered over her shoulder and said to her sister, “Yes, I think so.”
Feeling a bit more reassured, Lucielle leaned back in her seat and exhaled.
Arianne turned around and whispered to herself, “At least, I hope so.”
Marie walked out of the hotel bathroom and turned off the lights. She had checked every cabinet, every closet, and every drawer to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind. She turned to Carson, who was waiting patiently by the door, and said, “I’m ready.”
“Good,” he said. “It’s only a short drive from here.”
There were two small suitcases at the foot of the queen-size bed. They each grabbed one, and then exited the room.
Carson gave one last sweeping look inside before he flicked off the lights and shut the door.
Chapter 11 – WIAS
“This is a truly regrettable turn of events,” Schaffer said. “We always believed the fugitives would be the ones to lead us to the card. Then, it would have been a simple matter of swapping it with a fake. After all, no one really knows what secrets Adam locked inside it. To think it would be you, Andrew, who’d be the one to find it in the end …” Schaffer gave a hint of a smile. He looked genuinely impressed by the Briton. “Unfortunately, in doing so you’ve also forced us to reveal ourselves. The card is simply too valuable to give up.”
Leicester had been listening, stone-faced but with a sharp gaze, as Schaffer’s words echoed inside the vast auditorium. “How long have you two been members of WIAS?” he calmly asked.
Schaffer’s expression remained unchanged. He wasn’t at all surprised that Leicester had made the connection. “It’s been many years now,” he replied. “Even before I joined this project.”
Leicester then turned to his trusted associate. “And you, Mr. Jenkins, how long have you been plotting behind my back?”
“I’ve been with the organization from the very beginning,” Jenkins declared.
“Have you?” Leicester said, arching an eyebrow. “And did you ever really intend to go after the clones? Or were you just biding your time until you could get your hands on Adam’s last project?”
“Recruiting the clones has always been one of our primary objectives. By any means necessary.”
“If that were true,” Leicester said. “Why wasn’t any attempt ever made on the analyst? The others were too well guarded inside the Arc facility. But Lucielle’s been living on the outside for a while now. You would have had plenty of opportunities to abduct her. So why didn’t you?”
“The circle of people who are aware of her existence is very small,” Jenkins said. “And in that circle, only a rare few had any knowledge of her whereabouts at any given time. You would have immediately suspected my involvement. We couldn’t risk it. Retrieving the card was the top priority. If, as we all believe, it holds the formula to a virus. One designed by Adam. Then we had to have it. Imagine what our organization could accomplish with such a weapon. And since the child is the only one among the clones who couldn’t possibly know anything about it, we chose to wait.”
“But now that the card is in our possession,” Schaffer continued. “Mr. Jenkins will no longer be … hindered in his pursuit of the fugitives. Including the analyst.” Schaffer crossed his arms over his chest, and his gaze began to bounce around, like it was chasing his own thoughts. He wasn’t so much talking to Leicester at this point, but rather thinking out loud. “I suppose our task will be much easier with you out of the way. But, obviously, your disappearance will draw a lot of attention from some very serious parties. Suspicions will fall on all of us. And on Mr. Jenkins especially. He’ll probably have to disappear, as well. Hmm … I guess it can’t be helped. Regrettable,” the German said once again.
“We’ll have plenty of time to consider our options later,” Jenkins said. “For now, we should leave.”
“Oh? Does that mean you don’t intend to get rid of me?” Leicester said, sounding surprised.
“Of course not,” Schaffer replied. “You’re far too valuable. But we will have to insist you come with us. You’ll be a guest in one of our safe houses, until a more permanent arrangement can be made.”
“Well, that certainly is a relief,” the Briton said. “Though, I feel I must remind you that I’ve assigned hundreds of agents and police officers around this area, in case our runaway friends showed up. I confess, I’m curious about your exit strategy.”
“It’s true that, normally, we wouldn’t even make it to our car under these circumstances,” Jenkins said. “But your men have to secure a very large area. And there are too many ways in and out of this place. It was easy enough to post my own men between this building and the river, which is only a few yards away.”
“Ah! An escape by boat then,” Leicester said. “Hmm … interesting. I think it could actually work.”
Schaffer gave Leicester a probing look. Something bothered him about the Briton’s demeanor. He was far too unruffled given his current situation. Part of the reason might be the relief Leicester himself had professed to feel upon hearing no harm would come to him. But that explanation didn’t completely satisfy the German. Leicester had just lost Adam’s data card. And on top of that, he had no idea what WIAS had in store for him. It would be impossible for anyone not to feel some measure of anxiety under these circumstances, even for a man like Leicester. But Schaffer couldn’t detect the slightest trepidation in the Briton’s voice. Leicester had essentially become their hostage. But the way he acted, you�
��d almost think their roles were reversed.
“You seem to be taking all of this rather philosophically,” Schaffer said. “You haven’t even asked where we’re taking you.”
Leicester shrugged. “That, my dear Karl, is because I have no intention of going with you.”
Schaffer felt a twinge of shock. “What?”
“While I appreciate your gracious invitation,” Leicester continued. “Alas, I’m afraid I have to decline.”
Schaffer and Jenkins exchanged a quizzical look.
“Come now, Andrew,” said the German. “Surely, a man like you would understand the situation.”
“Please, sir,” said Jenkins. “I would really prefer to avoid any … unpleasantness.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Leicester. “That makes two of us.”
Schaffer studied the Briton more closely. “If you’re trying to stall for time, it won’t do you any good.”
“Oh, I assure you, I’m not,” Leicester told him. “But speaking of time …” He paused and then added in a much louder voice, “You’re certainly taking yours.”
“Sorry,” a voice called from above. “I was kind of enjoying all this intrigue and suspense.”
It was with utter shock that Schaffer gazed up and saw a woman lean over the balustrade in one of the box-seats on the wall nearest to them, to the left of the stage.
He immediately recognized her.
It was the same woman he had seen in Nathalie Renard’s hotel room. One of those so-called consultants.
Who was she? What was she doing here?
Schaffer glanced back at Leicester. Was she the reason he had been so calm this whole time?
The German quickly dismissed that possibility. Surely not. Not with Jenkins present. An entire squad of armed men wouldn’t be enough to stop him.
Schaffer instinctively turned to his associate. But doing so only added to his confusion.
What was that look on Jenkins’ face? It wasn’t just surprise. He also seemed to have suddenly become more tense … almost apprehensive.
