by James Flynn
The old man had said his name was Daniele Mordi. On bringing Chung Su into the property it became clear that he did live alone, the whole place was in disrepair. Upstairs there were two bedrooms, if that’s what you could call them, and a bathroom. One room had nothing in it but a giant wardrobe taking up one whole wall, the other had only a double bed and a bedside cabinet. Daniele now stood in the corner of the bathroom. A sink, a stained mirrored and a large ceramic free-standing bath completed the décor. He looked distant, seemingly drifting into a past memory. Without a word he left the room. Luke wasn’t worried about Daniele, the old man had no phone, no computer, apparently no means of contact with the outside world; he was a hermit in the true sense of the word.
Chung Su’s energy was fading, her body was adjusting to the pain, the circulation reviving the nerves.
“I am going to let go now, ok? But you need to stay in the water for a little while longer, do you understand? It is for your own good.”
Luke didn’t wait for a response; he removed his hands, pins and needles still stabbing all over. Chung Su looked at him, tears down her face, teeth gritted against the pain, but she didn’t leave the water, knowing that it was necessary. Luke sat back against the wall, fighting to keep his brain alert and working, the cold had kept them awake but now inside and warmer tiredness would creep up to take hold.
***
Luke walked out onto the landing carrying Chung Su; she had several towels wrapped around her provided by Daniele. She had been stripped gently by Luke, the wet clothes couldn’t stay on. He moved in the direction of the empty bedroom and kicked open the door. The window did not have any curtains or blinds so the fresh morning light streamed in.
Daniele had been busy laying blankets out on the floor; he had rolled up two as pillows. Luke gently placed Chung Su onto the blankets, removing the towels and wrapping the blankets around tight. There was not much response from her as he forced a blanket under her head. There would be no more talking tonight.
Exhaustion overwhelmed Chung Su and she closed her eyes and escaped into sleep. Luke moved over to the wardrobe, opening it up to see if there were any more blankets available. He would need to stay awake while she slept and he wanted some comfort. The inside of the wardrobe matched the inside of the house; it was messy, dirty and damp. Materials of all shapes and sizes were stacked on top of each other, on closer inspection they were in fact various items of clothing. As Luke picked through them a picture frame slipped out and crashed onto the floor. The image was of three men, arms over each other’s shoulders, smiling. A rifle stood against each of their legs, looming behind was a mountain range. The men didn’t wear military uniform, instead they wore tatty khaki shirts and shorts complete with flat caps tilted to the side. In the bottom corner a faded black pen mark read 1942.
“Fighting is never the answer.” Daniele’s deep voice was weak.
Luke turned his head to see the old man resting in the doorway. Looking back at the picture, the man stood dead centre was obviously Daniele. Although he was much younger and his face far more innocent the green eyes had remained the same. Luke raised the picture.
“Partisan?”
Daniele nodded. “Almost four years. Four years of trudging and roaming across the valleys and along the coast defending my country.”
“Caught?”
Daniele winced. “Yes, we had dug into the mountains, forty of us. It was winter … harsh. We had made a name for ourselves and parties were sent to remove us. They succeeded. Twenty dead, nineteen captured … only I remained at the end of it all.”
Luke placed the picture back into the wardrobe. “You should know better than most that fighting is sometimes necessary.”
“Necessary? That is a word persecutors favour. Your Italian is strong, so I assume you are military.”
“You fought for your cause, and you won, and that was for the greater good. Sometimes it is unavoidable.”
Daniele let out a phlegm-soaked laugh. “Won? My boy, the moment you pick up a gun there will never be a winner … never.”
“And if the enemy holds guns? Surely, then, for the greater good we must pick up arms to fight back?”
Daniele lowered his head in sadness. “Perhaps, but the sound of victory will not wipe away your acts, nor wipe clean your hands. I will make some porridge and set it on the stove for you both to eat later.”
Luke nodded.
“Should anyone come asking then you have my word I will say I have never seen you. Your war is no concern of mine. But I ask that you are gone by tomorrow morning.”
“Once it’s dark we will move.” Luke closed the wardrobe door.
“You are lucky; there will be heavy cloud tonight.” With that, Daniele shuffled out and down the hallway.
Luke sat on the bare floor and rested against the wall. Chung Su was in a deep sleep, eyes twitching under her eyelids. Luke’s limbs ached, but he knew he needed to keep himself awake. The mission, the mission, the mission. He hadn’t had a chance to fully process events back at the Collurania Observatory, Who were the men after Chung Su? Why were they after her? Why didn’t the Carabinieri fire at us? The thoughts were dull beats in his tired mind. He had no clue how Group 9 gathered their intelligence but as per usual he had been dropped into what had been outlined as a simple seek and detect operation: a scientist goes missing within a European territory and some government hierarchies somewhere want to know what, where and how … he had not been given the whole truth.
He smiled to himself; to his superiors this had never been a standard operation. Not for the first time since rejoining Group 9 he felt like an ant in an anthill.
We breathed life into the neutrino.
They were Professor Brun’s words. The past forty-eight hours had tipped everything on its head. Vittorio was no ordinary scientist. Luke did not understand the intricacies, he didn’t need to, he could sense from the room and the subsequent violence that it was something big that had been discovered by Vittorio. If Brun was to believed this would be something that had the power to enhance life, or destroy it. Luke knew that the human race would normally sway to the latter; there was more profit in it. Whatever it was had been big enough to force Professor Brun into resigning from OPERA, a place where he had become the very heartbeat.
He looked down at his hands, they were red and raw. Nor wipe clean your hands …
Luke was not a mindless drone; he knew full well the brutality of the actions he took. He had wrestled with it on more than one occasion, the death and pain he accepted as a factor of the success of the mission. Group 9 was not interested in mindless thugs, they wanted educated and rounded individuals, yet deep down, deep in the soul they had a knack of choosing individuals that were somehow lost. Luke saw it consistently in his fellow operatives. They were all trained to operate alone, to think as individuals, to act as individuals. Actions were not ordered but taken on by the operative in order to complete the mission. A mission, more often than not, was sanctioned in order to stop lives being destroyed. He looked around the room. Would he end up like Daniele, living in isolation with nothing more to show for courage than a brown faded picture?
A faint rhythmic thudding started up.
I need to speak to Chung Su. Should I have spoken with Brun at the Observatory? He will be a target. Luke was no nearer to finding out information on Vittorio’s whereabouts and now he had stuck his head above the parapet there was only one route he could take, and that was the forceful one.
The rhythm became louder, now accompanied by grinding metal wheels travelling along a track. Luke jumped as he saw a blonde-haired figure out of the corner of his eye. He stood up, tripping slightly on the edge of a blanket … there was nothing there.
Sliding back down the wall, he dropped his head into his hands, as much to block out the daylight as to gather his thoughts. He processed events, assessed possible options and slotted together a phased action plan.
Phase One would be to re-enter Teramo undetected with C
hung Su, Phase Two would be to head back to his hotel and check to see what activity was focused on it – at this stage he had no idea whether the authorities were onto the fake identity he used to book the hotel. Phase Three would be to torch the Audi and then find a new means of transport to head to Vittorio’s residence in L’Aquila.
Strategies always sounded so simple, and often the simplest were the most effective, but Luke knew that each phase was far from simple to achieve, a vast array of external factors would be working against him. For their own sake he hoped the authorities were fully prepared.
29.
The boiling water trickled over the dry granules, running and searching for gaps to fill, slowly submerging the dark mound. The strong aroma leapt out, wisps of steam carrying it around the room.
Beltrano sucked in a deep breath; it was a divine smell and one that he relished. Stirring the rich liquid with a spoon he walked back over to the desk and placed the black coffee amongst the scattered papers. The local Teramo officers had spent much of the night interviewing and collating witness statements, Beltrano had appeared at the station and confiscated everything they had, starting the process of trawling through them all.
Most were unhelpful. Despite being well-educated, supposedly intelligent individuals, many of the guests at the gala hadn’t noticed the charity worker calling himself Robert Reid . It had been very easy to zero in on the man who had disappeared with Miss Chung, he was the only statement missing off the list, however the why was a mystery.
The people sat with the mystery man on table five were not a lot of help either, they gave a good physical description but it appeared he shared no personal detail; he is a professional thought Beltrano. Picking up a statement from a Mrs Scheintag who was sat opposite on the table, Beltrano reread the description: Short dark hair, with a slight curl. Feminine brown eyes, thin face but not gaunt, a slight kink on the bridge of the nose. He was not handsome, but neither would I say he was ugly.
Descriptions did not come much broader; there were no particular outstanding features that set Mr Reid apart from the crowd. Beltrano was not disheartened by that, because currently this Mr Reid was running round a small Italian town with a stunning Asian physicist, and that did mark him out from the crowd.
Chung Su was definitely a pretty creature. Beltrano’s mind jumped back to the previous evening, her shivering body. It would seem he was not the only person wanting a chat with the Korean beauty. He felt the anger bubble up as his memory brought back Brun’s speech.
The office door swung open. Delvechi strolled in, sporting his right arm in a sling.
“Sorry Sir, the painkillers must have knocked me out, and it isn’t easy to dress in this damn thing.” He half-lifted his arm.
“Coffee?”
“Thank you, Sir, but I’ll make it. I think if you made it, it would blow my head off.” Delvechi shifted to the instant machine. “Well, that was quite a night, who would have thought a party full science nerds would turn into such excitement? Now this is what I signed up for.”
Beltrano picked up a statement from a Mr Lini. He read it through, noting with interest that Mr Lini had stated: Mr Reid spoke in fluent Italian. He said he was part of Amnesty and was posted here in some educational programme. Beltrano read the words again, they did not sit well, the apparent fluency of Mr Reid’s Italian and the fact he was saying he was part of Amnesty triggered alarm bells. Beltrano had seen statements like that before.
Delvechi sat at the table. “Incredible, isn’t it, three gunmen in the same place? I think that two were together, and I’m not sure if they were shooting at the hot woman or the other mystery guy.”
“I am not interested in the duel gunmen.” Beltrano took a long swig of coffee.
“Why not, Sir? They seemed the aggressors?”
“Did they? I am not so sure. Besides, at this moment our single mystery man has taken captive a well-respected North Korean physicist who was visiting our shores for the convention. It is our job to assure her safety, is it not?”
“Of course, Sir, but they must be connected, and surely it all must connect to Professor Vittorio’s disappearance? Perhaps if we find the other two they will lead us to him and her.” Delvechi worked away on an itch under the sling.
“I want to focus on this Mr Reid, he is the bigger threat at this point. Let the guys out there hunt the other two,’ Beltrano nodded at the office door. “Mr Reid could not have got far, he was on foot, and he has Miss Chung to contend with, his progress will be slow. They are still local.”
“Unlikely, surely they would have jumped town by now? That’s if he hasn’t killed Miss Chung already. This is a case now, Sir. Are you telling me that you don’t think this is connected to Vittorio’s disappearance?” Delvechi couldn’t hide his smile.
“I never said that.”
“Probably best I alert the wider authorities in adjoining towns, in case they have bolted.”
“No. We do not alert anyone, all that would do is slow us down.” Beltrano moved closer to Delvechi. “This has become a covert operation, Officer Delvechi, do you understand?”
Delvechi looked puzzled. “If you say so, Sir.”
“I do. I am confident that Mr Reid and Miss Chung are still local and still both alive.”
“But how are you so sure?”
“Because Mr Reid did not come to Teramo for Miss Chung.” Beltrano threw down the remaining coffee. “Now I need you to spread the word amongst the men out there that they need to contact every guest who was present last night and inform them not to talk to any media, the vultures will be swarming.”
“I get all the exciting jobs,” Delvechi huffed, strolling out the door, slamming it behind him.
“I fear there will yet be time for excitement, my boy,” Beltrano whispered to himself.
30.
The waves crashed against the rocks, the deep rumbling was followed by a white salt spray erupting towards the sky. The wind felt like a weight pushing against her frame, relentless in its power. In the distance a silhouette appeared atop a flat-topped rock. She stared hard, trying to focus on the shape, squinting through the barrage of wind-blown salt. It was a person, she could make out no detail, but there was a deep feeling of recognition.
A force suddenly took hold, an energy flowed through her bones and she found herself cutting through the wall of wind, dragging her feet through the shingle, staggering toward the sea. As her feet touched the tide she stopped to look at the person on top of the rock; they had not moved. The closer she got the more she was compelled to reach out to them. Plunging herself into the freezing, bubbling water her breath was stolen from her lungs. She gasped and spluttered, thrashing her arms and legs to try and stay afloat.
Exhaustion took hold, but with every thrash of her arms she was getting closer to the person who stood motionless on the rock. The wind and water stung her face; her limbs throbbed with pain.
The silhouette slowly turned; as if a fog was lifting, her eyes caught the first true sight of the person … Grandfather. Panic took hold. She tried calling but a huge wave smashed over her head, submerging her under the dark water. Her energy had left her. She reached an arm up in one final attempt to break for air, but her body slipped down and down until there was nothing but darkness.
Chung Su jolted awake, her eyes flicking erratically from left to right, taking in her surroundings. She sat up, flinching from the pain in her body. She was on the floor, a window above let an orange light in. A blanket was wrapped around her naked body; she only had vague memories of being placed down and covered. Then the previous night’s activities flooded back into her mind, and a sickness rippled through her stomach. Moving gently, she rolled over to scan the rest of the room, jumping as she came face to face with her captor.
He was sat against the wall, his eyes looking up at the window; they were bloodshot. The fear and severe cold had meant she had not taken much interest in how the man had looked the previous evening. He was Western with pale skin; t
he orange light caught his dark hair and gave it a red tinge. Chung Su didn’t want to move, a childlike instinct told her that if she didn’t move and hid under the blanket everything would go away, the monster would disappear. No, no, this man must not see I am afraid. I must be strong. I must …
It was all so unnatural, she was used to being fearless in pushing intellectual boundaries, gender boundaries, but this was something completely different, more immediate, it was true fear. The short, putrid Korean military officer raced through her mind, then her heart sunk even lower, realising that she would now probably never make it home. She didn’t even know if she would make it out of the room alive. Her nakedness rendered her extremely vulnerable.
“Bad dream?”
Chung Su was surprised by the calmness in the man’s voice. He was still looking up at the window; she had no answer for him.
“I empathise. You had early-stage hypothermia but we caught it in time, your appendages should be fine although you will experience severe aching for the next twenty-four hours.”
Chung Su’s thinking was still hazy so she focused on his lips when he spoke. As if he knew what she was doing he pronounced every word slowly and mouthed it clearly. He still didn’t look at her.
“Miss Chung, you are in no immediate danger, not from me. If I wanted to hurt you I would have. But let’s be clear. I am not here as a friend. It is in our mutual benefit that you stay alive. It is not important who I am, what is important is who you are, what you are doing in Italy … and who the men trying to kill you are.”
Chung Su didn’t know how to respond, each question had so many answers. After witnessing events the previous night she knew that the whole situation was out of her control … I have never been in control. Despite his promise of not wanting to kill her she was not naive enough to fully believe it. I must not betray my country.
“Let’s start at the top, what are you doing here, Miss Chung?”
