Karl Webber left his hideout before dawn. It was easy to get out onto the roof and climb down the steel ladders at the back of the building. Scarcely visible in his black clothes, he preferred to leave at the beginning or the end of the concert. Using the stairs which came out of the back of the auditorium directly onto the corridor crowded with concertgoers. His black clothes resembled those of the staff or sound engineers if they were in the building recording a concert. It was a convenient flexible disguise that proved its worth time and time again.
The first thing on the list was to pick up a new set of experiments and at the same time get his shot. Karl walked through the streets at the rear of the Concertgebouw and headed towards Slotervaart. His pickup time was always before dawn with a window of no more than two hours. After that, everything was removed. If he did not make it one day then it would be there the next, and after the pickup he would have to wait a week before the next batch, and his shot was available.
He walked along the van Breestraat and into the Koninginneweg, which ran parallel to the Vondelpark, a place he loved ever since his mother brought him there as a small boy. She would wheel him into the park at the entrance next to the old film Museum to visit the small children's playground further up on the left-hand side. There he would play for about an hour.
When he felt tired they would go on to the second children's playground in the Groot Melkhuis. His mother would have coffee while he played on the swings, one of the few things he could do that required little or no energy. He could never remember playing with other children; he was always alone. Maybe some kids noticed his illness and did not want to be near him, he was not sure, but it never bothered him. He enjoyed being alone.
Karl passed under the A10 motorway which ringed Amsterdam. Cars and trucks overhead created a low rumbling noise which caused minute vibrations in the concrete under his feet. He would have loved to have driven on the motorway but his sickness always held him back. His electric wheelchair gave him plenty of freedom in his early teens, but also got him into lots of trouble. Maybe it was better he never got to drive a car, he thought.
The apartments on the Plesmanlaan across from the canal were old, inconspicuous, and mostly occupied by pensioners. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a key that opened the main door, the only key he had since it was the only door he ever needed a key for. Everywhere else windows and doors provided easy entry. Once inside he headed down the stairs to the basement. As usual, there was no one around at that time in the morning, it was as it always was, totally silent.
The basement contained small storage areas used by the residents, big enough for a couple of bicycles and a few boxes, but no more. There were twenty-four in this section of the building, the rest in the adjoining block. He walked down the badly lit narrow hallway and stopped at the last storage space on the left. Unlike the others, this had no number above it. He presumed it was once used by a long gone caretaker to store cleaning products or tools - now it was his. There was a keyhole but no key could ever turn the lock in the door which looked like all the others in the basement. This was fortified.
Opening this door or any other door Karl used for himself required an instruction manual. It was a simple but effective method of knowing what to do was the trick. Otherwise the booby-trap would be set off. Suddenly there was a noise from somewhere in the building, like someone pulling a handle. Karl stopped moving to listen. He cocked his head to trace the sound. A rumble of water ran through the pipes, someone had flushed a toilet on the first or second floor above.
He turned his attention back to the storage box. The bottom of the door was a couple of centimeters from the floor, which left a gap. All the doors in the basement where exactly the same. Maybe it was a way to prevent people sleeping in the storage areas, or for airing purposes, he did not know. But for him it had another purpose. Karl grabbed the door handle and reached down under the door. He pushed up a small unobtrusive rod built into the door, which ran up to the handle. There was a soft click, Karl lifted the handle upwards, and turned it a quarter anticlockwise. After a second click he moved his hand along the underside of the door to the middle and located another rod. Again he pushed this upwards, and heard a third click. He now turned the handle clockwise, the way you would normally open a door, this time it opened.
Karl stepped into the small storage room and quickly closed it. He stopped to listen once again, silence. In the corner was a small dark gray filing cabinet with three drawers. Karl opened the top drawer just a few centimeters, then opened the second drawer halfway. There was a small unobtrusive mark he had to line up with another mark scratched into the metal frame of the cabinet - click.
He repeated the action with the third drawer, another click echoed quietly in the small storage space. Karl opened the top drawer halfway and slid his hand into the opening, and pulled on a small flat metal lever on the top of the inside of the cabinet. The whole top cover released. He lifted the top of the cabinet revealing four ampoules with instructions on each, and a small piece of paper with four typed numbers and letters printed on it. Next to the ampoules lay a syringe with the needle capped enclosed in a sterile plastic bag.
Karl took the syringe out of the plastic bag and removed the protective cap of the needle. He dropped his pants then sat down on the cold concrete floor with his back to the wall. As he did many hundreds of times before, he injected the syringe into his right thigh. The coldness of the liquid penetrating his massive thigh muscle was familiar and soothing. Removing the needle, he put it to one side, then relaxed against the wall.
He thought about the experiments, which were not always specified. The first major cardiac experiments were random but now he realized he should have carried them out further apart.
All the victims of his set of experiments were specified, with postcodes and house numbers. Previously one or two people might be identified, but not all. This was the first time that the experiments were fully detailed, and he had to work out how to get in and plant them. He had a week to carry them out, but he usually wanted to get it over with as quick as possible, preferably all in one night, like he did on the Overtoom.
Back in the hideaway he would look up the exact addresses from the codes. They did seem familiar, definitely Amsterdam.
It would be ten minutes before he stood up to do some exercises, then feel the medicine take effect. After three to four hours his strength would be fully restored. Karl put all the ampoules into a small travelers pouch around his waist then replaced the top of the cabinet. When in place, he pushed back the lever underneath and closed all the drawers.
Shortly after he was outside the apartment complex, and headed for the Vondelpark. He would try to find a nice spot in the grass and get some sleep. After that he would eat the sandwiches he stole from the staff canteen of the Concertgebouw the night before, and go to work.
Karl sat on the grass on the edge of the small lake in a corner where few would notice him. Early morning joggers entered the Vondelpark, along with the bikers, many in their office best, taking a shortcut through the park. If he had a normal life he could have been one of those people, although he would have preferred to have a job where he used his hands. Sitting behind a computer screen all day long was not very appealing. Maybe work on the trams, the same ones he could now hear racing over the bridge that straddled the top end of the park just a few hundred meters away.
But not now.
When his father walked out and disappeared from his life the idea of wanting to work on the trams disappeared with it.
The sun came out. He could feel the warmth of its rays. He stretched out on the grass, it felt good and soft and surprisingly relaxing. The air had warmed considerably since the day before, the sky was blue. Finally, summer had arrived - he closed his eyes.
Chapter Thirty-One
The Amsterdam Chronicles: Def-Con City Trilogy Part 1 Page 42
