by Alex Lukeman
"I hadn't thought about it. We'll think of something."
"We don't have to steal the samples," Ronnie said. "We just have to destroy them, along with the research. It's probably in the same building."
"Typical Jarhead thinking," Lamont said. "When in doubt, blow it up."
"So?" Ronnie said. "Your point?"
"Seems like a good idea to me," Nick said.
"Hold on," Elizabeth said. "You can't just blow up a Swiss research lab."
"Why not?" Nick asked.
"Well, because you can't. It's Swiss. They're neutral."
"They may be, but Krivi isn't," Nick said. "We can't take the samples with us. We can't leave them behind. What else are we going to do?"
"He's right, Director," Selena said. "We have to destroy it."
Elizabeth looked at her pen and forced herself not to pick it up.
"I hope I don't regret this," she said. "Steph, find out where Schmidt lives. Nick, you'd better make damn sure you've picked the right building before you push the button. Take the Gulfstream and leave tomorrow."
"What about weapons? We need more than pistols for this in case we run into opposition. MP5s, C-4, detonators. Not so easy to take those through Swiss customs."
"Take them on the plane. You'll have diplomatic passports, they won't search you."
"While you're arranging things, how about a safe house? We could be there a while."
"I'll see what I can do."
"I always wanted to see Switzerland in the winter," Lamont said.
"Lots of snow," Ronnie said. "And mountains."
"Do you ski, Nick?" Selena asked.
CHAPTER 15
Zurich in winter was everything the tourist magazines said it was, a picture-perfect example of old world Europe. Six inches of fresh snow lay over everything, turning the city into a calendar shot for the travel agents.
The safe house was a five story building in the Aussersihl, a district of residential buildings and shops lying between the Sihl river and the train station. Lamont sat down on a low couch and surveyed the room.
"Beats the place we got in India," he said.
"Harker borrowed it from Langley."
"I wonder if she sees Hood outside of work," Lamont said.
"Like a couple, you mean?"
"Why not?"
Nick shook his head. "I can't picture that."
"What's the plan?" Ronnie asked.
"Pick rooms and get settled in. Check the gear and contact Harker. See if there's anything to eat in the kitchen."
"We passed a market on the corner," Selena said.
"I want to stay in as much as possible. The locals might assume we're tourists but we stand out. No need to call more attention to ourselves than we have to. Selena, you speak the language. If we need something, you'll have to get it."
"No problem. I can pass for German, they won't think anything of that."
"I'll set up the comm," Lamont said.
"Let's unpack the weapons," Nick said.
They had four MP-5s with thirty round clips and extra ammo for each. There were eight kilos of C-4, enough to take out a fair sized target.
They had vests that would stop most pistol rounds, though a .45 would knock the wearer down. The vests weren't always proof against a Kalashnikov or FN but they were a lot better than nothing. They were uncomfortable and heavy. If things worked as they should, they wouldn't need them. But things didn't always go as planned. When it was time to go in, they'd wear the vests.
Lamont activated the comm link and brought Stephanie on line. Her image was clear on the screen of their laptop.
"I've located Schmidt," she said. "He lives in an exclusive apartment building in the north central part of the city, north of the lake. Krivi has a villa on the eastern side. Very upscale."
"Have you figured out where Schmidt works?" Nick asked.
"No. I haven't spotted him. A lot of people go in and out of his building and the satellite isn't always in position. You're going to have to put eyes on him. There's a garage in his building where he keeps his car. The registration says it's a red BMW 635, a classic. The number is ZH 478664."
"Okay."
"I'm sending you the locations of the laboratories. It's possible the samples are in a lab on the second floor of Krivi's corporate headquarters, but I'm leaning toward another location, just outside the city. That makes more sense to me. It's out of town, private, and there's plenty of room for a bio-containment set up. I'm sending a picture and the architectural plans."
The plans and address scrolled out of a printer Lamont had set up on the dining table next to the open laptop.
"That's great work, Steph."
"It was easy. The plans are a matter of public record. The picture comes from the corporate website. I think it's probably the best bet, but you need to confirm it."
"If Schmidt goes there tomorrow, we'll check it out after everyone's gone home."
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Good hunting," Stephanie said. She broke the connection.
CHAPTER 16
Ronnie sat next to Nick in the front seat of their rented Range Rover, parked down the street from Schmidt's apartment building. Selena and Lamont were in a second car on the other side of the city, staked out where they could watch the entrance to Krivi's sprawling home. It was still early and very cold. Nick kept the heater and defroster on. He wasn't worried about being spotted. A car idling in the frosty Swiss morning wouldn't attract attention. Schmidt had no reason to suspect anyone was watching him.
A red BMW emerged from the underground garage of the building and turned into traffic. Ronnie eyed the plate through binoculars.
"That's him," Ronnie said.
Nick put the Range Rover in gear and pulled in behind Schmidt, half a block behind. Traffic signs were everywhere, large blue signs with white letters and arrows and unpronounceable names. Nick didn't try to memorize the route. For one thing, he didn't know where Schmidt was going. For another, the GPS unit on the Range Rover's dash would record everything. If they needed to retrace it later, it wouldn't be a problem.
After twenty minutes, the traffic began to thin. They were heading west, out of the city. Nick dropped back but kept Schmidt in sight.
He touched the transceiver in his ear. "Selena, you copy?"
"Copy, Nick."
"We're on Schmidt. It looks like he's headed for the lab outside the city. What's happening on your end?"
"Krivi came out about five minutes ago and got into a chauffeured Mercedes. We're four cars behind him. He's going west, but we don't know where, yet. Could be his corporate building or maybe the lab."
"Stay on him and let me know if he's coming this way. Krivi is AEON and it's possible he might recognize one of us. Be careful he doesn't spot you."
"Copy that."
"Out."
"Krivi?" Ronnie said.
"On the road to somewhere. They're behind him."
Ahead, the red BMW slowed and turned into a sloping drive leading to a low, sand-colored building. It was three stories high, landscaped with low shrubs and flowerbeds buried under snow. The building had black tinted windows. A separate wing at the end had no windows at all. A tall chimney rose above it. Nick slowed as they drove past the entrance.
Gold letters inset into stone on either side of the drive announced Dass Pharmaceuticals. The drive was barred by an iron gate set into a low wall along the front of the property. A guardhouse stood to the side. Schmidt's car stopped and a guard emerged into the cold, his breath making small clouds as he bent over and looked into the car. He was dressed in a dark blue paramilitary uniform with a military style cap. He had an MP-5 slung over his shoulder and a pistol on his hip. A second man watched from within the guardhouse.
The guard stepped back and saluted. The gate opened and Schmidt drove through.
"Pretty serious firepower for a security guard," Ronnie said. "Backup, too. I wonder what they've got in there."
&n
bsp; "Plague samples, maybe," Nick said. "Krivi must have serious clout to get permission for weapons like that."
"Hey, it's Switzerland, the land of happy cows, Swiss cheese and banks," Ronnie said. "Money always talks."
"That wall doesn't put up much of a barrier. I'll bet he's got a hell of an alarm system. Motion sensors, laser beams, the works."
"I can get past those. I brought along a few gadgets Harker got from Langley's dirty tricks shop."
"Now we know where Schmidt works," Nick said. "Ten to one those samples are stashed somewhere inside."
"Yeah. Could be anywhere inside, though," Ronnie said. "That's a lot of floor space."
"We'll find it."
Nick drove on until he came to a place where he could turn around and park on the side of the road. His earpiece sounded.
"Nick, you copy?"
"Copy."
"Krivi is headed your way," Selena said. "He should get there in about five minutes."
"We're about a mile on the other side of the lab. Meet us there. Eyeball the layout as you go by."
"Got it. Out."
Twelve minutes later, Lamont and Selena pulled up behind them. Selena got out and came over. Nick rolled down his window.
"Krivi went into the building," Selena said. ""What now?"
"Now we go back to the safe house and make a plan. Did you get a good look as you went by?"
"Yes. It looks too easy. There must be hidden alarms."
"I had the same thought. You saw the weapons?"
"I did. I wonder if those guards are here around the clock?"
"We'll find out tonight," Nick said.
CHAPTER 17
Alexei Vysotsky finished reading the report from Valentina Antipov, AKA Valentina Rosetti, and felt the tightness around his forehead that meant his blood pressure was going up. He took a deep breath and reached for the bottle of Moskovskaya vodka he kept in his desk drawer.
Gutenberg, he thought. You son of a whore.
Valentina's report didn't identify what it was that Gutenberg had stolen from the "Russians" but Vysotsky was convinced it was the sample case taken from the dead hands of Major Kaminsky. What else could it be? Alexei had to admit it had taken real balls to snatch the case on Russian soil from under the watchful eyes of a Spetsnaz squad. It meant that he'd better not make the mistake of underestimating Gutenberg as an enemy.
Alexei was under a lot of pressure to find whoever was responsible for the raid on the train. It didn't help that he was convinced someone in his own organization, someone high up, had told Gutenberg where and when the samples were being transferred. But who? Who had the knowledge? It was a very short list.
The Director of SVR, Boris Vishinski. His deputy, Vladamir Kamarov. The Interior Minister and probably the president. Possibly an aide, someone in Kamarov's or Vishinski's office who had seen the memo about the transfer. Major Kaminsky himself. If Kaminsky was the traitor he had already paid for his treachery, but Alexei didn't believe it was him. The only other person who knew was himself.
If he couldn't prove it was someone else, he'd end up getting the blame. The Soviet Union was gone but the old ways of dealing with difficult internal problems were returning. In this case, blame could mean a bullet in the back of his head.
Vysotsky hoped it was an aide who was the traitor, but in his heart he knew it was one of his two bosses, Kamarov or Vishinski. It would be an unpopular accusation. He needed solid proof and he needed it soon, before the finger pointed at him.
He poured a water glass full of vodka and downed half of it and felt some of the tension leave his body. He always thought better after a drink or two. One of the reasons he'd reached his present high position within the ranks of SVR was his ability to drink and stay focused when the vodka was flowing. Others became careless, they made mistakes. Not Vysotsky.
Vysotsky considered why someone would betray his country. The usual reasons were depressingly common. Money. A woman. Anger at a slight or failure to gain recognition or promotion. Belief in another's ideology. Misguided idealism. A sense of secret power.
All of those were good reasons, if any reason for treachery was a good one. But which of those, if any, applied to his two chief suspects? Alexei took out a pad and began making a list.
Power.
Failure/anger @ system/individuals.
A woman.
Ideology/belief/idealism.
Money.
Both men had power, public and secret, and plenty of it. There was only so much power to be had and they had both gone about as far as they would. Kamarov could become Director of SVR in the event Vishinski stepped down or was removed, but that was the extent of it and was uncertain at best. Power couldn't be ruled out as a motive, but how did the theft of the plague samples further that aim? It wasn't immediately apparent. Vysotsky put a question mark next to power.
Neither man had any reason to feel slighted by the system. They had succeeded where many had failed. It was likely there was a personal grudge or two in their histories but enough of a grudge to betray the nation that had rewarded them? Vysotsky didn't think so. He drew a line through failure.
Kamarov was widowed and was not involved with anyone, as far as Alexei knew. Men like Kamarov and Vishinski were routinely surveilled. If Kamarov was seeing someone, it would have been discovered. Vishinski was married, well satisfied with a vetted mistress on the side that he kept in an elegant apartment in Moscow. Alexei crossed a woman off his list as a possible motive.
Neither man had shown the least deviation in political correctness, but such things could be kept hidden. Who knew what a man really thought? Both men were hard liners, like Alexei himself. He knew both men well and he didn't think either one would be tempted by the illusions of the West. It was unlikely, a real stretch. Vysotsky crossed off idealism as a possibility. These were not idealistic men.
That left money. Neither man had any particular problems with money. Kamarov's uncle was one of the hated oligarchs and his favorite nephew lacked for nothing. Vishinski was well off by Russian standards, even by Western ones. Their positions entitled them to many perks and benefits.
Even so, Vysotsky thought, for some there is never enough..
He decided to dig into the finances of the two men. He'd have to be careful. If they discovered what he was doing, the hammer would fall. It was the nature of life in the circles of Russian power. It had always been that way, since the days of the czars.
Alexei drained the rest of the vodka. Then he took out a lighter and set fire to the list he had just made. He dropped the burning paper in an ashtray and watched it curl and blacken.
He poured another glass. As he sipped, he had an uneasy thought. What would happen if the disease got loose? Gutenberg must know what he had and only a madman would unleash such a terrible weapon. One of the reasons the Korean lab had been raided was to take that potential out of the hands of North Korea's unstable leader. At least, that's what Vysotsky had been told. The plague was safer in Russian hands. If it added to the Federation's arsenal of bio-weapons, so much the better.
He put the thought aside. Time to begin looking for the traitor.
CHAPTER 18
Lights on the corners of Krivi's laboratory buildings cast a bright glare into the night, reflecting from the harsh white of the snow covering the grounds. There was no moon. The sky was filled with dark, unseen cloud and the scent of a coming storm lay heavy in the night air.
Nick and the others had parked a quarter of a mile away. They were dressed in black and armed with the MP-5s and pistols. The C-4 and detonators were in a pack Nick would carry once they got out of the car.
"Those lights are a problem," Nick said.
"Once we're a little closer, I can take care of that," Ronnie said.
"You got something in your bag of tricks?" Lamont asked.
Ronnie held up an odd looking device shaped like a radar gun.
"This puts out a focused EMP burst. It's simple, point and shoot. Aim at th
e light, and out she goes. No sound to bother anyone."
"One of Langley's toys?"
"Yup. You know, we should have our own shop for stuff like this. Harker could set it up where we practice urban targets. There's plenty of room."
The metal building across from Project headquarters was used to practice live fire against electronic targets that popped out of rooms and mock buildings and alleys at random places and intervals. The shooter had to make an instant decision. Friend or foe? It was easy to mistake a toaster or a baby for a bomb, a beer bottle for a gun. There were a lot of dead, fake civilians in that building, though there were a lot fewer than when the range had first been set up.
"'ll talk to Harker about it," Nick said. "Steph would appreciate another techie type to talk to."
He unfolded a set of plans for the ground floor of the lab and spread it out across his lap and clicked on a small flashlight. In the back seat, Lamont and Selena leaned over to look.
"This wing at the far end still looks like the best bet for entry," Nick said. He moved the light over the page.
"No windows, so no one sees us from inside. There's one exit door, on the far side away from the main entrance. Cameras on the corners. With Ronnie's gadget we can take out the cameras and the lights without knocking out the lights up front. If we're lucky, no one will notice. On the other hand, the guards will be at a monitoring station. If they're paying attention, they'll come looking to see what's up when the cameras go out."
"Rules of engagement?" Selena asked.
"It's a hard call. They may not know what's going on in there. Take them out but try not to kill them. If they start shooting, all bets are off."
"What if the samples aren't there?"
"Then we get the hell out of Dodge and come up with a new plan," Nick said. "But I'll bet they are."
"Let's get it done," Lamont said.
They pulled on black balaclavas against the cold and to conceal their faces from any cameras.
"Weapons free," Nick said.
They moved out of the car, black ghosts against the white countryside. The road was deserted. Snow was starting to fall, thick, heavy flakes that stuck to their clothes. They ran in a low crouch to the wall bordering the grounds. Ronnie settled behind the wall, pointed his EMP device at the nearest camera and pulled the trigger. He did the same to the camera on the far corner. Then he aimed at the nearest light. It went dark, with a soft pop. He followed up with the second. It went dark.
