The Signal

by John Sneeden

  After taking the bag from Reid, Zane unzipped it and removed a pistol, a Glock 23 with Osprey suppressor and laser sight. It wasn’t his usual Glock 17, but he had no complaints. What was good enough for the FBI was good enough for him. After making sure the pistol was in working order, he pulled out five magazines and a palm-sized tactical flashlight. He loaded one magazine into the Glock and put the other four inside his black fleece jacket.

  Armed, Zane removed three sets of radio transmitters, which included wiring and earbuds. Carmen and Brett were already wired, so he and Reid quickly assembled the devices and verified that they were operating. Zane placed the remaining set inside his coat for Skinner.

  Next, he rummaged through the remainder of the items in the bag and produced a black Beretta Px4, which he placed in the cup holder between the seats. “And I’ll leave this baby with you.” He winked at Brett.

  “I’m amazed that you trust me with that,” Brett said. “And don’t forget the other goodies I put down in there.”

  Zane frowned and directed the beam of his flashlight into the bag. “Very nice.” He removed six flashbangs—or stun grenades—taking two and giving the other four to Carmen and Reid to split.

  “Okay, let’s go over this one more time, folks,” Zane said, turning to the side so that he could face everyone in the car. “Brett, you’re going to remain here to extract the team and the hostage when we return. Keep the satellite view of the buildings up, and be ready to coordinate logistics if called upon.” Brett gave a quick nod. “If you find a better extraction point, proceed to that place as long as it’s one that we can find with little trouble. I recommend you remain here, but I’ll let that be your call.”

  Brett nodded again as he pecked away at his laptop, which used its own encrypted Wi-Fi system.

  “Do you have our position up yet?” Zane asked.

  “I do.” Brett swiveled the screen around so that all could see.

  “Petrosino and Reid, we follow these trees that run parallel to the paved road.” Zane traced his finger along the picture of the trees in the satellite view. “We don’t want to be seen, but we do want to stay within sight of the road, because when we’re even with the construction site, we'll know we have another sixty yards before turning left and following a perpendicular line of trees back into the property.”

  “Which should eventually put us here.” Carmen leaned forward and pointed to the place where Skinner was currently positioned. “Right next to that cluster of buildings.”

  “Correct.” Zane noticed that Brett was staring at the windshield. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, I know you better than that.”

  “Was just concerned about what you’re going to run up against inside. Something tells me there’s a lot of firepower waiting on you. And we both know—”

  “We both know you’re right,” Zane said. “There is going to be a small army waiting for us in there. I’ve had that same concern myself. Unfortunately, we don’t have time to bring anyone else in. The nearest Delphi team is hours away.”

  “No, I realize there isn’t time to bring in more operatives,” Brett replied. “I guess I’m wondering if Connor wasn’t right that maybe it’s time to bring in the authorities. At this point, what we have is a simple kidnapping. Nothing more.”

  “I disagree with you that this is a simple kidnapping,” Zane replied. “They’re getting ready to commandeer the world’s largest particle collider and use it in ways it wasn’t meant to be used. I’m no physicist, but I think we all know there is the chance they could blow this place sky-high if they push the equipment past its limits. Remember, those underground pipes run for seventeen miles through both France and Switzerland. Any kind of chain-reaction explosions could be catastrophic.

  “All that said, do you really think we have the time to get the Prévessin police out here and then get them completely up to date on everything that’s going on? We’re talking hours, and we don’t have hours. On top of that, I’m pretty sure Prévessin is little more than a village. My guess is we could count the number of uniformed officers on one hand. The nearest swat team is likely in Geneva, and they don’t have jurisdiction.”

  “I think at this point the CERN staff is probably already aware that VanGelder is missing,” Reid suggested. “We’d have no problem getting them on board if we explained this is where he was taken.”

  “Agreed. But who are they going to call? The Geneva police have no jurisdiction over this particular site, and it would probably take hours for the Prévessin police to bring in sufficient force to retake the facility. Not to mention our own possible arrest for operating on their soil.” Zane let that sink in for a few seconds and then said, “Look, we both know if we can retrieve VanGelder and prevent damage to their facility, we’ll be fine. Both the Swiss and the French will be more willing to slap us on the wrist if we can get the whole thing sorted out and prevent a catastrophe.”

  Brett sat motionless for a moment and then said, “I guess you’re right. I was just concerned about what might be waiting inside. He could have anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five men in there.”

  “Understood.” Zane reached over and squeezed Brett’s shoulder. “But to be quite honest, I believe we have an advantage.”

  “How so?” Brett asked.

  “Stealth. Something tells me their men will be spread throughout the compound. If we can peel this onion one layer at a time, taking their defenses apart piece by piece, then we’ll be fine. On top of that, they’re probably feeling a little too secure for their own good. They’re likely running on the assumption that we’re not working in conjunction with the Swiss authorities. If they thought we were, they never would’ve shown up at the banquet. And they're also probably assuming we’ll be unable to connect all of the dots that lead out here to CERN. That gives us an advantage.”

  “Zane’s right,” Carmen said. “Our only option is to go in right now.”

  After seeing Brett finally nod in agreement, Zane turned toward the back seat and said, “Let’s move out. We follow the line of trees. No lights unless we agree it’s absolutely necessary.”

  As the others checked their equipment one last time, Zane reached up and disabled the overhead light so that the interior wouldn’t illuminate when the doors were opened.

  The three operatives then exited the vehicle and disappeared into the trees.

  *

  Despite the fury of the storm, the three operatives had no trouble making their way through the trees. They walked in single file, with Zane in front, Carmen next, and Reid bringing up the rear. There was little undergrowth to slow their progress, so they reached the point parallel with the construction site in just under two minutes.

  From that point forward, Zane began to count each step. When they had traveled approximately sixty yards, he held up his hand. He pointed to the left and led the group deeper into the woods, following the perpendicular line of trees that ran back into the compound. After mentally counting off another hundred yards, he lifted his hand once again, indicating they should stop. He then dropped to one knee in the snow, followed by Carmen and Reid.

  After waiting and listening for two minutes, Zane pointed his flashlight directly ahead and turned it on twice in quick succession. Five seconds later, there were two answering flashes of light in the distance. By prearranged plan, the three fanned out into a semicircle, lifted their weapons, and waited. A few seconds later, Skinner stepped out from behind the trunk of a tree like a snow-laden phantom.

  “All clear?” Zane asked in a low tone while lowering his weapon.

  “All clear,” whispered Skinner, dropping to one knee next to the others.

  “Here, get wired in before we move out.” Zane handed him the radio kit. Skinner took off his coat, clipped the transmitter onto his belt, and stuffed the two wires up into his shirt. He ran one of the wires down his sleeve, where the microphone was affixed to his cuff, and he ran the other through his collar, pus
hing the earbud into place.

  Satisfied that everything was secure, Skinner twisted a knob at the top of the transmitter and spoke softly into his left cuff. “Testing. Over.”

  The other operatives signaled that they could hear him.

  “All right, now tell us what we’re up against,” Zane said.

  “It might be better if I showed you.” Skinner motioned them to follow him.

  The group followed Skinner back in the direction he had come from. After two minutes of walking, he brought a finger to his lips and slowed his pace. The others followed suit, and thirty seconds later, he pointed through the trees to the left. A group of buildings could be seen through the tangle of trunks, even though the driving snow was making it difficult to discern any details.

  Tapping Carmen and Reid on the shoulder, Skinner whispered, “Stay here and keep an eye out while I take Zane in for a closer look. I haven’t picked up any sign that they’re patrolling the woods, but you never know.”

  “Roger that,” Carmen replied.

  Skinner turned to Zane. “We’re going to walk about twenty yards, then we need to drop and crawl the rest of the way.”

  Zane nodded, and the two set out. After several minutes of crawling, Zane wiggled his way to the last bush at the edge of the woods and used a gloved hand to push aside several branches. The first thing he noticed was not the buildings, but the weather. It was obvious that they were in the midst of a full-blown blizzard. Clouds of snow were tossed around by a chilling wind, and the land was covered in a thick layer of white. Zane could see that the weather was going to have a larger impact on their operation than he had first imagined. The sooner they could get inside, the better.

  “This is the first of several connected buildings.” Skinner pointed to the one directly in front of them. “It’s hard to see, but based on my study of the satellite images, there should be three more just beyond.”

  “Brett said that you were reasonably certain Mironov was here,” Zane said.

  “Correct,” Skinner replied. “And I say that because there are two tangos guarding the entrance to the closest building. It might be hard to see them, now that the storm has gotten worse.”

  Zane pulled out a monocular and focused it on the lighted entrance directly in front of them. While it was hard to see, he was able to make out two sets of glass doors. He also noticed that a sidewalk ran from those doors to a parking lot off to the right. As best he could tell, there was only one vehicle parked there, a small coupe partially buried in the snow. “I take it the tangos are standing just inside the glass?”

  “Correct. At least they were before.”

  “Wimps.” Zane lowered the monocular. “I can’t see a thing.”

  “Before, I was further down and at a better angle. But even if we were in that spot, I doubt you’d be able to see them unless they were right up against the glass. The snow is just too heavy now.”

  Zane looked up in the air. “Yeah, I can’t figure out if this is good or bad. My mind says it’s never a good thing to operate in these kinds of conditions, but on the other hand, my gut tells me it might actually work in our favor.” He looked through the monocular again. “What kind of weaponry?”

  “Semi-automatic rifles. Likely AR-15, although I can’t say for sure.”

  “Obviously not standard security personnel for a physics lab," said Zane. "Have you seen anyone else?”

  “No, but my guess is they’re covering all the entrances and have men scattered throughout the interior.”

  “What about perimeter patrols?”

  “Always a possibility,” Skinner admitted. “But strangely, I haven’t seen anyone out and around.”

  “It may confirm my theory that they’re not expecting any visitors,” Zane said, his breath forming into clouds. “That, or their men just aren’t interested in getting out in this mess. Anyway, I think we need to assume there are armed patrols out here. From everything we’ve seen, Mironov is a man who values security, and it wouldn’t be like him to let his guard down completely. He has to know that there is at least the small chance we figured out where he was taking VanGelder.”

  “Unless we're the beneficiaries of some false assumptions he’s making,” Skinner said.

  “Maybe. We can't count on that, though. What can you tell me about the buildings? Do we know how many there are?”

  “I counted four from the satellite view. The one here in front of us is connected to a second building by an enclosed corridor that runs across an open space. Together they form an H-shape. And beyond the second building, there are two others: a very large building that appears to house a number of offices, and a final one on the far end.”

  “So if I’m hearing you right, if we can get into this building in front of us, that will give us access to all four. Correct?”

  “Correct,” Skinner said.

  “Do we know where the control room is?”

  “I believe it’s in the building on the far end, the fourth one.”

  “You don’t sound certain,” Zane said.

  “Actually, I am reasonably certain. I found an article in which a group of physics students were touring the room, and there was a picture of them standing outside the building before entering. The picture matches the tilted satellite view of the one I was referring to. It has an odd exterior of ribbed gray metal. There's a parking deck beyond that.”

  “Have you done any reconnaissance of the deck?”

  “Not yet. It’s new and doesn’t show up on the overhead satellite view. I just happened to find it right before you arrived using the street view, which has more current imagery.”

  Zane didn’t speak for about a minute, the snow continuing to cover him.

  “What are you thinking?” Skinner finally asked.

  “I think I just figured out how we’re going to get in there.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  AMANDA DIALED CARMEN’S number three times, but each time it rolled into voice mail. The Italian gave the greeting, but used another name. Amanda assumed it was some sort of false identity.

  “She’s still not picking up,” she said to Philippe, ending the call. “Do you see anything?”

  The two were both crouched behind the Peugeot in the field across from CERN. Philippe still believed the vehicle they had just seen was connected to all that was going on, but it had disappeared to parts unknown. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “Were you able to see where that car went?”

  “No, but I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of it or the people inside.”

  “Who do you suppose it is?” Amanda already knew the answer. Neither she nor Philippe had any way of knowing who it might be. It could be Renaissance security officers patrolling the perimeter, or it could be Carmen. For all she knew, it could just be a group of teens cruising around looking for a good place to smoke pot or make out.

  “I have no idea.” The pastor frowned as his mind sifted through all the possibilities. “But we must begin to pray. God will take care of us, and He will let us know if danger is close by.”

  When Amanda kept staring at the road, he said, “Don’t worry, my dear. God is going to take care of everything.”

  “I know He is.” She looked over at Philippe and then down at the ground.

  “What’s wrong? I can tell something is bothering you.”

  She looked back up at him again, afraid and confused. “Nothing is wrong… per se. I’m just concerned about something I feel led to do.”

  “And what is that?” asked Philippe.

  “I’ve been doing some praying.” Amanda could see concern in his gentle eyes, which made what she was about to say even harder. “I prayed at the cathedral, and I prayed in the car… and well, I feel as though I’m supposed to do something.”

  “Amanda, I need you to be more specific.”

  “I don’t know… but I do feel like I’m supposed to go there.”

  “As you probably guessed, that concerns me. Did you re
ceive this from the Lord?”

  Amanda looked over at him. “I honestly don’t know. I’d be lying if I said I felt some special revelation or divine calling. All I know is this—I feel drawn to those buildings, the ones that are right through those trees. Whether that’s God or whether it’s just me being concerned for my friends, I can’t really say.”

  “I appreciate your honesty… And while I can’t stop you, I must say that I believe your place is here… our place is here. Your friends are professionals who know how to deal with the criminal element. You and I are children of God, and our battle is a spiritual one.”

  “Our battles are typically spiritual. But then again, we’re also sometimes called to action. Do you wonder why you felt led to come out here and pray, and to bring me along? We could’ve just as easily prayed from the safety of St. Pierre.”

  “I did wonder about that, but I have also felt strongly that I should pray. In the end, I decided that God wanted us to pray in close proximity, for purposes he chose not to reveal.”

  “Exactly. You felt strongly that you should pray. Notice you weren’t given any instructions for me, specifically.” Amanda reached over and put her hand on his shoulder. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t want to go in there. I really don’t.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “But at the same time, I can’t stay here. That would violate my conscience. Is it God? I have no way of knowing. You're a godly man, and I know if you felt this way, you’d do the same.”

  “Je comprends. I understand there is nothing I can do to dissuade you. Whatever is moving you must be the Spirit. At least, I hope it is.” Philippe reached out and patted her on the back, sending a cloud of snowy mist into the air.

  Amanda’s mouth turned up into a slight smile, realizing it must have taken a lot for Philippe to get on board with what she was about to do.

  “Oh, just one more thing,” he said, opening the door of his car. After searching for something between the seats, he finally handed her a flashlight. “At least take this with you. And please only use it if you have to.”