Milieu Dawn

by Malcolm Franks

Matt holed up in Hallstatt, a short drive from Klagenfurt and within an hour of St Wolfgang. Numbering under a thousand inhabitants the town had been built alongside and up against a cliff face, separated from the impressive lake by a single lane road. It was not uncommon to see the images of the array of buildings reflected into the glassy waters of the lake during summer. The picturesque scene was constantly used by travel companies the world over to attract tourists.

  He’d remembered this place as the town without time, a reference to a bygone age when sun dials were the norm. The surrounding mountains are so tall the winter sun failed to rise above them, and was therefore unable to cast light down upon the dials. Bereft of light, the ancient timing mechanisms were rendered useless during the cold darkness of the year’s final season.

  Matt had come to regard the place as an open prison. Other than access to the nearby railway station from across the lake the only other communication artery into the main town was the narrow road, barely able to hold two mid-sized vehicles abreast.

  Living space was at a premium here. Matt considered himself fortunate to have come across a room in what was described as a period villa. Built around the sixteenth century an estate agent would have described its main selling point as being quaint, filled as it was with low timbered ceilings. He’d rented a small one room apartment on the top floor. Whilst it was an okay space for a short stop it was entirely impractical for a long stay. There was barely enough room to swing the proverbial cat.

  The sloping roof was so steep Matt had to crouch before getting into the double bed, whilst over on the other side he had to continually bend his head when sat at the desk. At one point Matt had resorted to sitting on the floor, cross-legged under the small window, to work on the laptop. It didn’t last long. Cramp soon set in to his legs, the physical discomfort adding to his sombre mood.

  His mind drifted back to the fraught departure scene at Klagenfurt airport. Gratia was incensed at his obstinacy, her voice getting angrier by the second. Matt played his role well, becoming ever more unreasonable with each heated exchange. He could see Rosa, stood behind Gratia, smiling approvingly at his thespian prowess. Her ongoing approval provided little in the way of consolation.

  Worryingly, apart from an initial text and a brief phone call, Matt hadn’t heard from Rosa since. She had promised to keep in regular touch but so far, zilch. To add to his anxiety, he discovered the files downloaded from Chen’s computer to be encrypted. Matt had made numerous attempts to try and link them to a variety of programmes he’d found on the internet, without any success.

  His rising frustration almost led him to breaking a golden rule of being in hiding, trying to contact Victoria himself. Fortunately, good sense prevailed and he put the phone down before it was answered. The right decision, he reasoned.

  Money, or rather lack of it, compounded his problems. Matt realised he would have to move on soon or risk being stuck in Hallstatt with no visible means of support. He decided to give Rosa one more day. Matt put on his shoes and headed out into the narrow street to take a break. He turned left and walked towards one of the ferry stages, hands in pockets, via the main square. The day was pleasant enough, sunny without being too hot, and he considered a relaxing trip on the still waters of the lake might reduce the irritation he was feeling.

  Elderly tourists crowded through the narrow streets. Several bus loads had arrived earlier in the day and nearly every one was armed with a small, digital camera. He knew he’d have to be careful not to be inadvertently snapped in a background shot.

  The touch of human flesh slid around his arm and a hand rested on his wrist, making him jump in surprise.

  “How are you doing?” asked the woman’s voice.

  “Jesus, Rosa. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  She gave out a hearty, throaty laugh.

  “You’re supposed to be on your guard at all times. Be thankful it’s only me who stole up on you.”

  He exhaled deeply to allow his heart to return to its normal beat. Rosa wore a half-sleeved white cotton top buttoned right up to the collar, which surprised him given the heat. A peach coloured mini skirt and brown sandals completed the holidaymaker disguise.

  “Where were you going?” she asked.

  “Thought I’d get the ferry across to the other side and hike a bit. I’m starting to feel like an inmate.”

  “In Hallstatt?” she said. “I’ve always thought it was quite picturesque and relaxing. I thought you’d made a good choice, coming here.”

  “There’s only so much to see. Once you’ve been up and down the street a couple of times here that’s about it. And the place is so eerie.”

  He paused.

  “Did you know the Catholic community here bury their dead vertically, because of the shortage of land space. Then, after ten years, they exhume the bodies and cut off the skulls.”

  “Cut off the skulls?”

  “Yeah, they decorate the skulls and then put them on show in a church cellar.”

  “What do they do with the rest of the bones?”

  “God knows. I stopped taking an interest once I read what they did with the skulls. And you wonder why I’m going stir crazy.”

  She tugged gently at his arm.

  “I suspect a real prison is much worse than this,” she said with a broad smile. “Come on, you can buy me a coffee and some strudel and I’ll see if I can cheer you up a bit.”

  “Not sure I’ve got enough money left for strudel.”

  Rosa came to an abrupt halt, looked into his eyes and frowned.

  “This place really has been getting you down,” she said. “Never mind, I suppose this isn’t the first time you’ve made me pay my own way,” she added with a wide smile.

  Her infectious grin usually cheered him, not today. He felt Rosa’s grip to his wrist tighten, prompting him to return an awkward smile. They took shade under a sun umbrella outside a café in the town square, sitting directly opposite each other. Matt ordered, in commendable German, and the refreshments soon arrived. He was going to strike up the conversation when Rosa raised the index finger of her right hand and waved it slowly from side to side.

  “Strudel first,” she grinned.

  Matt never could understand how someone as petite as Rosa could eat volumes of all the wrong stuff and never put on an ounce of weight. He watched at the loving way she manipulated a segment of the strudel into the spoon, and then covered it delicately with the side cream. The expression on her face oozed enjoyment as the sweet confection slipped into her small mouth.

  “That is so good,” she said. “Want to try some?”

  He shook his head politely. To deprive Rosa of any of her beloved strudel must surely constitute a criminal offence in Austria. She gave him a thoughtful smile before returning to the plate. Her reluctance to offer him any immediate news of the outside world began to play on his mind, add to his sense of growing frustration.

  “Right Mr Grump, that’s me sorted. What have you been up to these last few days?” she eventually asked on completion of the task.

  “Zilch, zero and zipping nothing,” he replied.

  She chose to dismiss his remark.

  “Not to worry,” she beamed.

  “Not to worry? You try being imprisoned in a single room apartment with the head banging trap of sloping roof day in, day bloody out.”

  She grinned mischievously.

  “What are you looking so pleased about?” he said.

  “You don’t like being confined, do you? I reckon it’s a man thing, eats away at the macho psyche.”

  “Look, if your only reason for being here is to poke fun at the frailties of men then you may as well bugger back off to St Wolfgang,” he snapped.

  A deep frown crossed her face.

  “Matt? It’s me, Rosa. Remember?”

  He shook his head dismissively and looked away to avoid eye contact. He heard her rise and sit in the chair next to him. Her hand stroked at his lower arm. After a short hesitation he hal
f-returned her gaze, feeling her blue eyes searching deep into his mind.

  “Shall we walk for a bit?” she asked.

  They strolled up the narrow road to the other end of town arm in arm, in silence. She could sense his brooding unease. Rosa slipped away, into the local bakers, re-appearing shortly after with a loaf of sliced bread.

  “Let’s give the local ducks a treat.”

  They sat at the lakeside, on a wooden pier-like structure, their bare feet soaking in the cool water. As they serviced the hunger of the growing mass of birds, Matt felt the tension ease and started to relax.

  “I didn’t mean to snap,” he said.

  “It’s okay. I’d forgotten what it was like to go to ground. It always drove me slightly nuts being confined to a small area, excommunicated from the rest of the world.”

  “I’ll be fine from here on,” he sighed. “Now I’ve had the chance to yell at someone. It’s a shame it had to be you.”

  She gave out a throaty laugh and nudged him.

  “That’s what we Rosa’s are best at; happy to accept verbal bashings without taking offence.”

  They retreated to their own thoughts. Rosa had something on her mind, judging by the way she picked at the bread.

  “Martha tells me you’re not with Jenna,” she said. “When I turned up at your door ...”

  He laughed.

  “Sometimes what the eyes see isn’t real, but mostly it is.”

  She tore a morsel of bread from the slice and tossed it playfully at his face.

  “So I jumped to a conclusion. It happens on occasion,” she said with a broad smile. “What conclusions would you have reached if Stefan answered the door in one of my blouses?”

  “That the guy had some serious issues,” replied Matt wryly.

  Another morsel of bread speared towards him. He ducked to evade it. Rosa cocked her head and looked at him.

  “Gratia keeps asking if I’ve heard from you.”

  “Does she? What did you tell her?”

  “I haven’t heard from you.”

  “Well, that’s what we agreed. What have you said to the others?”

  “Same thing,” she said. “Only Catherine knows we’re still in contact.”

  “Yeah, sounds about right.”

  They returned to feeding the wildlife.

  “So Gratia’s missing me then,” he said.

  “Apparently,” she replied.

  “What can I say? I’m a babe magnet.”

  “You wish. She’s only attracted to you because she gets off on danger.”

  He smiled.

  “Like you.”

  “No, not anymore,” she said, after a pause. “I only came out of retirement to save your sweet ass because Catherine asked me.”

  “Otherwise you wouldn’t have come?”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” she said with a warm smile.

  “I would have come for you.”

  “I would have made you.”

  Neither spoke as they focussed on the loudly yapping beaks circling the water in front of them. He tossed the last crumb into the lake.

  “You’ll like Stefan, when you eventually meet him,” she said.

  “I’ve no doubt I will.”

  “No, you will. Really,” she said.

  “I meant it, Rosa. I’m sure I will like Stefan. After all, the guy’s must have something about him to take you on.”

  Rosa nudged her body hard against Matt, almost toppling him over. Fortunately, they were well away from the side of the pier and he managed to stick out a hand and regain his balance. They laughed like playful children as she tried again. Unable to shift him, Rosa reached into the lake and scooped water up into his face. Cursing her sleight of hand he tried to grab her but she jumped up to move out of his reach, laughing at his spluttering attempts to clear his eyes.

  Matt cupped his hands into the lake and started to rise to his feet. He felt her hands urgently tickle his rib. Matt tried to pivot and dowse the water over her blonde hair, only to lose his footing. The result was a slow motion backward-like somersault into the still cool waters of the lake, scattering the surrounding wildlife still waiting for crumbs.

  Matt surfaced and saw Rosa doubled up with laughter, circled by amused tourists attracted to the noisy commotion. A nearby duck stretched out its neck and pecked at his finger, believing it had spotted bread in his hand, causing Rosa to laugh louder.

  He dragged his body onto dry land and rested on a single knee, dripping wet. Rosa’s shadow appeared, coupled with the slowly quelling sound of her ongoing laughter.

  “That about makes up your day,” she giggled.

  “Ha bloody ha,” he said, wiping the liquid from his face.

  “This is what happens when you take me on. I thought by now you’d have known better than to try and …”

  He sprang forward. With his right arm he tapped at the back of her knees, causing her legs to buckle. His left arm wrapped itself around her waist and he lifted Rosa from the ground, up into his arms.

  “Matt. Don’t you dare, I’m warning you …”

  He leapt into the air and Rosa screamed an obscenity. It was only as he fell back onto terra firma she realised he’d been teasing her.

  “You rotten sod,” she said.

  He grinned in triumph as he dropped her feet to the ground and her throaty laugh returned to spring out into the warm air.

  “Enough?” he said.

  “Yeah, okay. At least it’s improved your mood.”

  The episode reminded him of an event some time ago, in Victoria, when Jack was alive. He and Matt had tussled by the dockside. On that occasion too, Matt was the one participant to get drenched.

  “Oh well, I was beginning to feel a little hot and bothered,” he said dryly. “You don’t mind if we nip back so I can shower and change?”

  “As long as there’s room for two,” she quipped.

  “If there’s one thing in this world that really gets my goat it’s a …”

  “…a tease, I know. You’ve told me often enough.”

  And her throaty laugh rang through the air once more.

  They headed to the apartment, arms linked, Matt dripping a steady line of water as they strolled.

  “What are your plans?” she suddenly asked, out of the blue.

  “I wish I knew. One thing is for certain, we can not rely on the political classes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All this time I had it in my head this Milieu thing was dead in the water. The truth of the matter is the politicians have done nothing, as usual. Meanwhile, final preparations are being put into place to unleash the virus on an unsuspecting world. The whole bloody thing is just about to dawn. Have we been naïve, or what?”

  “So what are you saying, the media?”

  “It has to be a real option this time. Get the thing into the open. Then let the damned politicians sort everything out.”

  “There is another angle.”

  “What?”

  “They might be on the right track, with modifications.”

  He stopped and stared at her, incredulous.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Her eyes seemed to retreat at the terseness of his response.

  “You heard what happened to Eva-Maria? Why shouldn’t those sort of people be put down, removed from society completely?” she asked.

  “It is one thing to punish evil, but these people have cast their net much wider. If you’re old or infirm, perhaps with a minor misdemeanour against your name, then you’re at risk. What if Stefan committed a minor breach to ordered life and was removed from society? How would you feel if Martha or Gerhardt were decreed to be too old, diseased and beyond the financial means of repair? What then?”

  “The Spartans used to throw their new born disabled over a cliff.”

  “And you know what happened to them. Eventually they couldn’t muster enough suitable specimens to maintain their society, resulting in the end of Sparta.”
/>   “Okay, probably not the best example,” said Rosa. “But you catch my drift.”

  “God, Rosa. If I didn’t know better I’d start to think you had decided to switch to the opposition.”

  “Come on, the thought must have crossed your mind. I know how you feel about the evil within society. Catherine told me what you said you’d do with Eva-Maria’s killers. So a part of you believes the idea is not entirely without some merit. And if humans managed their affairs the way Mother Nature manages the rest of the environment, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “There is a right way and a wrong way. Theirs is the wrong way.”

  “You are so wonderfully righteous, Matt Durham. Shame Michael Daniels arrived on the planet before you.”

  He exhaled deeply uncertain how to react to her words. Had she really changed sides? Surely Rosa, of all people, couldn’t turn. Not after what had gone before. Yet he wasn’t angry at her remarks. Perhaps, subconsciously, he hadn’t completely dismissed the concept in his own mind.

  “Go on, admit it,” she said. “The idea is not totally without substance.”

  “Maybe,” he said reluctantly. “But I’m still not enlisting, even if you are.”

  She laughed, and appeared to take no offence. He noticed the laughter lines around her eyes had deepened since he first met her, though this took nothing away from her perfectly formed face. They resumed the stroll back to his apartment, both in reflective mood.

  “You’re much in demand,” she said to break the silence.

  “Really?” he said. “I hope she’s pretty.”

  “The Japanese authorities want you extradited for killing Tanaka. The Chinese want to execute you for the murder of Chen. In Europe meanwhile, the Germans want to question you about a mysterious death in Hameln. French authorities want to interview a man fitting your description, seen leaving a house where a father and daughter were shot dead. In Italy you are the chief suspect in the case of a man found drowned in the sea off Bussana Nuova. The police in Pamplona search for a triple murderer. There are no reported sightings of you around Pustoshka in Russia, but I suspect this will change in time.”

  He ground to a halt and stared into Rosa’s blue eyes.

  “Do you know what connects the dead men, Matt?”

  “Something tells me you’re about to let me know.”

  “They were the surviving members of the original Milieu conspirators. Some had been given fresh identities. All had been exiled to obscure locations. Yet within a matter of weeks they are dead, all in suspicious circumstances. You are in the frame for each and every one. The only good news is the enforcement authorities know neither your name nor your current whereabouts, or what connects these deaths.”

  The look in her eyes was harsh, making it impossible for him to misunderstand the situation.

  “There’s a new group in town. And these people, the ones you’re taking on, have the highest possible connections.”

  Matt was struck by her careful choice of words. She had said he was taking them on, not her or anyone else. Not even Catherine Vogel. Rosa had painted the bleakest of scenarios. He had to question her loyalty.

  “It’s time for that shower,” he said.

  With hot water battering his body Matt’s thoughts were in turmoil, utter panic. He was no longer certain he could rely on Rosa, unsure if she was now friend or foe. Had she been foe however, then Rosa could have given up his location. Then again, there was no mistaking the chilling undercurrent of her message. What the hell was he going to do?

  He stepped out and dried hurriedly. Rosa stood with her arms crossed at the window, discreetly looking out onto the lake. She never moved from her fixed position all the while he dressed. He kept wondering how he was going to approach the forthcoming conversation, and how careful he should be with his words.

  “Do you fully understand the deep shit you’re in?” she said, turning to face him.

  “I’ve got the gist of it.”

  “We’re not talking about one powerful, clandestine group hunting you down. Before much longer, virtually the entire planet’s judicial authorities will be in on the chase.”

  “Seems like it,” he said.

  The following silence was deafening. Matt guessed she was leading up to something, something he probably wouldn’t like to hear.

  “Catherine wants me to bring you in,” she said.

  “Does she now?”

  “Yes. She thinks the only chance you have is to come in, with the files.”

  The news shocked him to the core. Why? What was it about that simple statement that should have set alarm bells ringing? True, he hadn’t expected her to say this. But something else in the statement bothered him.

  “There’s no dealing with maniacal people intent on mass genocide.”

  Rosa stepped up to him. She placed a hand to each side of his face, then leant forward and kissed his lips.

  “What was that for?”

  “The odds are not good,” she said softly. “They have spent months setting this trap and you walked into it, blindfold. The only reason the trap hasn’t shut is because of the files.”

  Matt gazed into her blue eyes, unusually subdued.

  “I’ve been a wanted man before.”

  “Not on this scale.”

  He considered her words.

  “What else has Catherine said?”

  “She thinks it’s a long shot. But there might be some room to negotiate, as long as you bring in the files.”

  He searched into her eyes.

  “You know I can’t agree,” he replied. “Billions of lives are at stake. How could I trade my life for theirs?”

  She sighed deeply, disappointed as much as anything else.

  “Why did I know you were going to say that?”

  “Because you know me, Rosa,” he replied. “How could I say anything else? What was the point of everything we went through together before, only to give up at the first hurdle this time round? I can’t believe you, of all people, would throw in the towel so easily.”

  Rosa responded by edging forward and wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug.

  “What is it, Rosa?” he whispered. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  She eased away to study his face. Her upper lip trembled with uncertainty.

  “I’m pregnant, Matt.”

  Rosa said it plainly, without joy or celebration, merely as a fact. As shockwaves go this one was way beyond the Richter scale, temporarily numbing his senses. Anger flickered briefly inside him before reason returned. This was the real purpose of her visit today. Rosa had come to say goodbye.

  “Congratulations,” he said softly.

  She didn’t reply

  “You must really love this consultant guy.”

  “His name is Stefan. And yes, he’s good for me.”

  “I guess you’ll not want me to come to the wedding, in case I accidentally let something slip about your past life.”

  Her smile was barely non-existent. Matt waited for Rosa to speak. She hugged him again, tighter than before.

  “I do want you there. Why do you think I brought the message from Catherine, you won’t make it without her help.”

  He said nothing.

  “You’re going to be pig-headed and stay out aren’t you?”

  “I don’t have a choice, Rosa. You know I don’t.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. Matt always believed he could rely on Rosa, if no-one else. But her priorities had changed. Though disappointed, he understood why. He kissed gently to the top of her head.

  “Have you heard the phrase scorched earth policy?” she asked, looking up into his face.

  “Yes.”

  “In intelligence circles this means leaving your quarry with nowhere to run, without means to survive. Once your name is released to the authorities any assets will be frozen, business and personal including property. Then they’ll deprive y
ou of access to those who might help you. If they get desperate this means taking people out of play, starting with St Wolfgang. After that they’ll move systematically from one venue and person to the next, and so on.”

  He guessed the direction she was taking him in.

  “Promise me you’ll think about Catherine’s suggestion, before you finally make the decision to go on.”

  Her concern was genuine, touching even. If it was a direct choice between Rosa and the files then he would face a real dilemma.

  “I need some time, time to think the whole thing through,” he said.

  “You’ve got tonight. Catherine wants me to bring you in tomorrow.”

  “No pressure then.”

  “No,” she whispered. “No pressure.”

  Matt’s mind raced with indecision. Could he really place at risk those lives he valued most in the world? Yet to return the files was utterly the wrong thing to do. It would represent an act of complicity in mass genocide of epic proportions, an unforgivable sin against humanity. He was torn, uncertain.

  “When is your wedding?” he asked.

  “Three weeks on Saturday. Why?”

  “Will Catherine be there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t make a decision as big as this overnight. Tell her I need more time to think it over. Ask Catherine if she’ll meet me secretly on the morning of your wedding day. Can you do this for me?”

  “What is there to think about? Pretty soon it will be you against the rest of the world. Surely you must see that?”

  “I always liked a challenge.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Matt,” she said. “We’re trying to keep you alive!”

  He eased his head back and looked into her eyes.

  “I know. I need time to come to terms with it.”

  “Promise me you’ll show up.”

  “I promise.”

  “Cross your heart?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  She sank her head back against his shoulder.

  “Now everyone knows you can take me down,” he said. “How are you going to explain letting me get away?”

  It didn’t take long for Rosa to come up with the answer.

  “You obviously did a runner, when I wasn’t looking. It’s not like you haven’t done it on me before.”

  He laughed out loud.

  “Yes, Toronto,” he said. “How could I forget?”

  They stood for a while.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll be honeymooning in Victoria,” he said.

  “We are actually. But it will be Victoria in the Seychelles, not Canada. I want to give the bikinis one last run out before completely wrecking my figure.”

  It made him smile.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” he said. “You’ll always be beautiful, Rosa Cain, always.”

  The small craft had been in service for dozens of years and could be described as compact, at best. This was particularly true of the rear end which sat perilously close to the surface of the water. It felt cramped due to the numbers of tourists on board. They always seemed to turn up in large groups, making personal space a premium. The only saving grace lay in the agreeable quietness of fellow passengers. Fortunately Matt and Rosa were first to the only two seat wooden table at the back end of the boat, allowing them a degree of privacy. An eight thirty start, the lake tour normally lasted around an hour and a half. Matt estimated they were about half way through the cruise.

  He looked at Rosa, who did her best to smile.

  “The lake is so peaceful, even stiller than this afternoon’s trip. I could sit here for the rest of the night,” she said. “You can see every ripple of the water under the moonlight.”

  Matt nodded in agreement. It struck him Rosa would make a good mother. She somehow looked ready for the trials and tribulations of motherhood.

  “What?” she said.

  He shook his head.

  “Nothing,” he replied.

  Curiosity found its way onto her face. Realising he wasn’t going to add anything further to his comment, Rosa reached into her shoulder bag and produced a plastic A4 sized wallet, folded in half.

  “You will need this, to keep you going” she said.

  Matt opened the wallet. Inside were mounds of currency, a mixture of one hundred and of fifty Euro notes.

  “Where did this all come from?”

  “I was thinking ahead.”

  Rosa had anticipated his reaction. She knew him better than he thought. She raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  “We’re nearly there,” she said.

  He could see the shoreline, twenty yards or so distant. This was the place they had identified on the earlier run.

  “Be careful,” she said.

  “I will.”

  Rosa stretched out a hand and gripped his arm. I’m sorry, said her eyes. He smiled, picked up her hand and kissed it.

  “You’ll make a beautiful bride.”

  She released his arm, stood up and made her way down the aisle to the inner cabin. Rosa stumbled awkwardly, spilling drink filled glasses to the floor. Immediately the other guests sprang up to try and help Rosa to her feet, constantly asking if she was okay.

  As planned, Matt used the distraction to lower himself over the side. He hung there for a second or two, motionless. Then he released his grip. Sliding off the boat felt almost symbolic to Matt. For in this one moment he recognised he had likely slipped out of Rosa Cain’s life, for the very last time.

  Once onshore he rummaged for the bag they had left earlier and hurriedly changed. After checking everything was there, he headed up to the train station and began the long trek. No trains ran along the line at this time of night.

  Matt’s mind filled with all manner of thoughts. He felt confident Rosa could successfully pull off an explanation for his disappearing act. Then his thoughts turned to Gratia, and the others. He started to worry for their safety. Salvation lay in bypassing the encryption. Failure meant surrender to the worst of all possible foes. Matt had to succeed.

  Chapter Thirty

  Lake Dancing