The Sirani Connection

by Estelle Ryan

  “Hey, girl.” Francine’s tone was gentle. “You’re doing great. Now tell me if Shahab placed sensors on your body.”

  She blinked once.

  “She’s saying yes,” Colin said.

  “I saw that. I can see you guys on the security camera.” Francine cleared her throat. “Bree, do you know how many Shahab placed on your body?”

  She blinked once.

  “Okay, now please count out how many by blinking. Five blinks for five sensors. Okay, start.”

  Bree blinked. Again. And again. And again. By the time she blinked twelve times another tear rolled down her cheek.

  She stopped at fourteen.

  “Bloody hell.” Manny stepped forward and leaned towards Colin’s phone. “Can we stop these things?”

  “Give me a sec. I want to speak to Ivan’s team and his IT guys.” The call ended.

  Only now did I take the time to observe the rest of Bree’s nonverbal cues. There wasn’t much to assess since she didn’t move at all, the tension in her muscles unmistakable. Yet there could be small cues that might prove important. I looked at her feet. She was resting her weight on the sides and the heels of her feet, avoiding any pressure on her toes. Her legs appeared normal under the cover of her plaid trousers, as did her torso. Even this scrutiny didn’t enable me to see the sensors Shahab had placed on her body.

  I looked at her chest and noticed her erratic breathing. At first I had thought it was due to the immense stress she was currently experiencing, but this seemed more. “Are you injured?”

  She blinked once.

  “Are your ribs broken?” That would explain why she was taking such shallow breaths.

  She blinked once. Another tear rolled down her cheek. Then she closed her eyes for a few seconds, her attempt to regain her composure obvious. She opened her eyes and looked over my shoulder.

  Jiří was walking towards us, an unfamiliar device in his hand. “Hello. I’m Jiří. I won’t touch. I test for sensor.” His broken English was softly spoken and his approach careful as if he didn’t want to startle Bree. He held the device towards her and walked around her. He nodded. “There is transmission. We need to block.”

  Colin’s phone vibrated and he swiped the screen. “Francine, you’re on speaker.”

  “Jiří, is it transmitting?”

  “Yes. I go get jammer from truck.” Jiří ran full-out to the opposite side of the bridge.

  “Hang in there, girl.” Francine’s voice had that slightly distracted tone it had when she was simultaneously working on her computer. “We’re going to jam every signal even thinking of transmitting and you’ll be good to go.”

  I studied Bree’s face. When I’d seen her after she’d saved our lives in the Zeman’s house, she hadn’t given the impression that she was particularly concerned about the injury above her eyebrow. Yet now it was completely hidden under badly applied make-up.

  “Did you put make-up on your injury?” I pointedly looked at her eyebrow.

  She blinked twice.

  “Did Shahab do this?”

  She blinked once.

  I considered this. The make-up and sunglasses could be because Shahab didn’t want to attract unwanted attention to her. But if that was his reasoning, why place her in an unmoving position in the middle of a famous tourist attraction?

  Bree looked over my shoulder and narrowed her eyes. Then her uninjured eye shot wide open. She stared at me.

  “You just saw something that scared you.”

  She blinked once.

  “Look at it again.”

  She looked past me towards a deserted artist stall. When the police had evacuated the area, they hadn’t allowed the local artists and hawkers to take their wares with them. The informal stand held three easels with notebook-sized, colourful paintings of Prague—the castle, Charles Bridge and the Dancing House. Smaller paintings were displayed on the ground and a fourth paint-stained easel held an incomplete painting. There were no paintbrushes or tubes of paint, only spray cans.

  I looked back at Bree. “Did Shahab leave something by the art?”

  She blinked once.

  “I have jammer.” Jiří ran closer and put the square device on the ground a metre from Bree. “Francine, I turn jammer on.”

  “Okey-dokey. See you soon, Bree.” Francine’s voice was cut off.

  “Now you speak.” Jiří looked at Bree.

  She blinked twice.

  “Do you think the sensor will still transmit?” Manny asked.

  She blinked once.

  “Bloody hell.” Manny rubbed his hands over his face. “Doc?”

  “She’s being truthful.” I took a moment, then looked back at the artist’s paintings. “Bree, is Shahab’s weapon by the art?”

  She blinked once.

  Immediate panic tightened around my chest like a pressure belt. The artist had set up a mere six metres from where we were standing. If Shahab was indeed using the weapon Doctor Novotný had developed, six metres would still give us an immediate lethal dose of that opioid. The breeze was blowing in our direction. We had no chance.

  Colin took my hand in a warm and firm grip. “We’re okay, love. Just breathe.”

  I gasped when I realised I’d been holding my breath. I mentally started playing Mozart’s Violin Sonata No. 36 in F major and took three slow breaths. “Ivan, the hazmat team need to remove everything that is there. Or wait a moment.” I turned to Bree. “Is it safe to move or should they put it in a containment case? Blink once for moving it and twice for containing it.”

  She blinked twice.

  “Get that done.” Manny turned to Ivan. “And later I hope you shout at the bloody hazmat techs. They should’ve found it first time around.”

  Ivan’s lips were in a thin line when he nodded. “There will be hell to pay.”

  Bree’s eyes followed him as he walked away, the fear on her face intensifying. I needed her attention back to me. “Is this the only device Shahab had?”

  She looked back at me and blinked twice.

  “How many? Blink out the number.”

  She blinked three times.

  “Holy mother of all the saints.”

  Bree’s eyes strayed again to the artist’s area. Three men dressed in their protective suits, complete with helmets, walked awkwardly towards the artist area. The little I could see of their faces showed their doubt. Two of the men were carrying what looked like a large crate. They reached the art and opened the crate to reveal a thick lining inside and seals that would prevent whatever contaminant they put in there from leaking.

  They first placed the eight painted canvasses in the case, then carefully placed the spray paint cans on top of that. The third man paused when he picked up a can with a dark blue sticker around its side, but no lid. He spoke in Czech and the others turned to first look at him, then the can. One of the others took out a device and held it close to the can. He jerked and spoke in Czech.

  “There’s opioid in that can.” Ivan put his fists on his hips and spoke in Czech before he turned back to us. “They’re locking that in and it will be tested.”

  The relief on Bree’s face was unmistakable. Yet she didn’t move. I thought about this. “Do you know where Shahab placed the other cans?”

  She blinked once.

  I trusted her judgement whether it was safe for her to move or not. I’d rather she acted in an abundance of caution than dismiss whatever knowledge she had, resulting in numerous deaths. “I just want to confirm that you still don’t feel safe to speak or move. Correct?”

  She blinked once.

  “Then we need to find out where Shahab placed the other cans.” I waited until she blinked once. “Is it in a public place?”

  She blinked once.

  “A tourist attraction?”

  She blinked twice.

  “A government building?”

  She hesitated, then blinked twice.

  “A building?”

  She blinked once.

 
I took a moment to reconsider what I’d learned in this case. “Is it an organisation that helps women?”

  She blinked once. And stared at me, hopeful.

  I looked at Ivan. “What is the name of the organisation that employs Natálie? The one that helped Klára?”

  “The Free Women’s Council.” Ivan waved at Jiří to come closer. “The FWC is the largest NGO in Czech as far as I know.”

  Bree watched him as he spoke in rapid Czech to Jiří. He turned back when Jiří sprinted away from us. “We’ll deploy a team there now. It’s close to one of our fire departments, which is equipped to deal with hazardous agents like this.”

  “You’re doing great, Bree.” Colin’s tone was gentle. “We only need one more device.”

  She looked over our shoulders in the direction we’d come from. Her eyebrows pulled up and in, her face losing colour. Her fear was escalating. I didn’t know how to calm her. I wasn’t good at this.

  Colin shifted a bit closer and spoke to Bree in a low tone. He reassured her that Ivan’s team was the best in Prague and our team the best in Europe. As he continued talking to her, I considered his statement. I didn’t have other teams to compare our successes to and decided Colin’s claim could not be proven and was therefore moot.

  “They found the device.” Ivan walked closer and stopped next to Manny. “Shahab didn’t try to hide it at all. He just left it in the reception area.” He leaned a bit closer to Bree. “My team made sure there’s nothing transmitting from here. You can speak now. It’s really safe.”

  “I don’t know if it’s safe.” She whispered through her teeth, barely moving her lips. Bree closed her eyes and swallowed. When she opened her eyes, she looked at me. “He said the smallest movement, even speaking would set them off. He said the sensors could not be stopped from transmitting. I believe him. I don’t want to set off the last one. I’m not moving.”

  “Then don’t move.” Manny’s tone and expression was calming, but the tension in his body high. “Just tell us if you know where that last bloody device is.”

  “I don’t know. He only told me how he’s going to enjoy seeing me kill all these capitalist infidels on the bridge.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He said I deserved to be punished for being a deviant. That it will be my fault that so many women in the FWC will die. That’s how I know about the Free Women’s Council.”

  “Oh, Bree.” Colin sighed. “None of what he said against you or anyone else is true.”

  “I know.” She swallowed. “But he’s sick. Really sick.”

  “Do you mean physically or psychologically?” I didn’t always know to which neurotypicals referred.

  “He’s definitely sick in his head.” Her eyebrows pulled together. “But he looked ill. He was sweating a lot and lost his balance a few times. There’s something very wrong with him.”

  “How did that bastard get you?” Manny asked.

  Bree closed her eyes again for two seconds. “My fault. I followed up on the medical equipment Roxy mentioned. I have a friend who sells these expensive machines and I asked her to find out if someone ordered specific equipment. She found a name and a delivery address. I thought I would just drive by in my new rental car and check it out.” She looked at Manny. “I was going to phone you as soon as I knew it was something worth looking into.”

  “Daft woman.” Manny’s expression was not as unkind as his words. “What happened?”

  “He must’ve seen me sitting in my car. One moment I was still checking out the building, thinking about calling you, and the next the window next to me exploded. At least that’s what it sounded and felt like. He’d broken my rental’s window and pulled me out through it.” She looked at Colin. “That guy following me was slumped in his car. I recognised him from before and thought I would be even safer since he was there. I don’t know if he’s okay.”

  “Where was this?” Ivan was standing with his smartphone in his hand.

  Bree gave the address and exhaled in relief when Ivan glanced at his phone, then ran to where his team was standing. Not having access to phones or even two-way radios was slowing us down. But it was possibly also keeping us and others safe from being poisoned with a lethal dose of an opioid analogue.

  “Tell me exactly what Shahab said to you.” If I knew, I might deduce his current location from that. “Especially about the third device.”

  “He has that with him.” She swallowed. “After he dragged me from the car, he took me into that building. He pushed a gun into my ribs. I couldn’t fight.”

  “You did everything right,” Colin said. “You stayed alive.”

  She gave Colin a grateful look and forced herself to slow her breathing. “All the equipment is standing in the building. It looks like a lab. But everything is turned off. Shahab taunted me about the footage from the police station that had been deleted and that I was a suspect. He said it was fun to play with me. He tied me on top of one of the long lab desks and...” She took a few shallow breaths and looked at me, tears in her eyes. “He asked me what you know about him. I didn’t tell him anything.”

  “He tortured you.” I tightened my grip on Colin’s hand and forced more Mozart into my mind.

  “He broke my ribs. Then he decided it would be fun to break my toes.” This time the tears spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t know toes are so difficult to break.” She blinked a few times, her gaze watery. “I don’t know for how much longer I’ll be able to stand like this.”

  I didn’t know what to say. How did one console a person while they were still suffering from horrendous torture? And how did one ask for more information when that would only cause more emotional and psychological distress? But we needed to know. “What else did he say?”

  “He asked how many of your team was here. He named everyone. He knows who you are. And he wanted to know if everyone is here. I didn’t tell him anything. It was strange. He asked me if you guys liked me. He said that it was as if Allah sent me to him so his job would be easier.” She paused for a second. “He sounded crazy, as if he wasn’t in his right mind. He said he didn’t know how he was going to get to them, but if you liked me, it would be perfect. He said you would come for me. Then he said you took everything from him, so he will take everything from you.”

  Adrenaline sent cold fear through my system. Standing in front of this woman who’d been tortured because she’d protected us—me—humbled me. It also motivated me to push the darkness in my peripheral vision back and focus on what she’d said.

  I turned to Manny, too scared to verbalise my conclusion.

  “Doc?”

  I shook my head.

  “Spit it out, missy! I don’t have time for your little problems.”

  “Your attempt to calm me by insulting me is weak. I can see the contrasting concern on your face.” But his method had worked. I inhaled deeply. “Shahab wants to avenge the death of Sahar and the humiliation of being deceived. The bridge and the FWC is the perfect revenge on Czech’s involvement and the city that took Sahar from him.”

  “But?” Manny’s expression led me to believe he knew what I was about to say. He was already turning his torso, ready to move.

  “We took a lot from Shahab.” I counted on my fingers. “His job, his reputation, all his assets, everything he’d saved up to get back at his own country and later Sahar and Czech.”

  “Holy bloody hell!” Manny ran.

  “Motherfucker!” Vinnie’s face first went white, then red with the realisation and he immediately ran after Manny. “Roxy!”

  I gave Bree one glance, took my hand from Colin’s and ran faster than I’d ever run in my life.

  Shahab was in our hotel room. With Roxy, Francine, Phillip, Natálie and Klára.

  Chapter TWENTY-TWO

  I LEANED FORWARD AND put my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. We were in the elevator going up to our hotel floor. Vinnie was shifting from one foot to the other. Manny was swearing nonstop, glowering at the panel displaying the flo
or numbers as we moved up. Colin stood next to me, also breathing heavily after our sprint here.

  “Vin, we have to do this right.” Colin put his hand on Vinnie’s shoulder.

  “She didn’t answer her phone. She always answers her phone when I call. Always.” Vinnie swung around and glared at Colin. “He’s got Rox, dude. My Roxy. And Franny.”

  “And Phillip.” My throat closed as I tried to push the words past it.

  “He’s not going to fucking live to see another day.”

  “We have to do this right, big guy.” Manny pressed his fists against his eyes. “Dan and Ivan are taking the URNA team up the stairs. We need to give them time to do their job.”

  “I can do that job.” Vinnie punched one fist into his open palm.

  “Vin.” Colin tightened his grip on Vinnie’s shoulder. “We need to keep everyone alive.”

  “Not that motherfucker.”

  “Stop.” Manny straightened and turned to look at Vinnie. “Get your bloody head on straight or you’re going to get Roxanne and Francine killed.”

  “And Phillip.” My voice was hoarse.

  Manny nodded at me. “And Phillip and the two other women.” He looked back at Vinnie. “We need to contain the situation until the trained URNA guys can do their jobs. Can I trust you?”

  Vinnie’s nostrils flared, but he nodded once.

  Manny jerked when his phone vibrated in his hand. He swiped the screen and put the phone to his ear. “Ivan?”

  I knew it was physically impossible, but it felt like my stomach dropped to my feet when I saw Manny’s expression. I straightened and wrapped my arms tightly around my torso.

  “How many?” Manny pressed the heel of his hand against one eye, nodded and ended the call. He looked at us. “Gabriella was wrong. There are more than three devices. One exploded prematurely in a delivery van and killed the driver. The young mother who ran to help him when he crashed into a street light was also killed by the opioid weapon. As well as three of the five first responders.”

  “Fuck!” Vinnie lifted his fist as if to punch the metal wall of the elevator, but held back and slowly lowered his arm. “What else did Ivan say?”