“He’s not waking up. It looks serious. He’s out cold.”
“Have you tried everything?”
“Yes, everything I could, but nothing’s working. The ambulance is on its way.”
“What do you think it is?” Tanya asked.
“My guess is as good as yours. It looks like acute poisoning, but still,” he said and paused, “he ate the same things we did, but we feel okay.”
Tanya flinched when one of the journalists stood up.
“Excuse me, is there a problem?”
Tanya shook her head. “No, not at all. We’re just discussing a few last details.”
The journalist sat down, glancing over at the big clock on the wall.
Tanya grabbed Ben’s arm. “We have to do it ourselves.”
“But what about Mustafa?”
With a sharp edge in her voice, she replied, “He’s not here, is he? And he specifically didn’t want us to cancel. We should tell it like it is—our honorable colleague has become acutely ill, but that he is a vital part of the project.”
Ben pondered for a few seconds. “You’re right. We should do it.”
“Okay, then. Ready?”
“Ready.”
Tanya tensed her jaws, took a deep breath, and spun around.
“Hello, everyone. We’re ready to begin; thank you so much for your patience.”
She and Ben went up on the stage and sat down. Ben poured two glasses of water, and Tanya nodded.
“Honorable journalists, welcome to this press conference, where we will walk you through the work we’ve been doing for the past year—namely, the work of documenting the systematic environmental offenses committed by the multinational company QuantumCorp”
30
“This means that contaminated water leaks straight into the groundwater and spreads. It’s a disaster every time something like this happens, but what we’re seeing in the case of QuantumCorp is on a completely different scale. The contaminated water has spread to at least twelve different aquifers in this region alone. The consequences of this are extremely serious. And that’s just in Chile.” Tanya paused, shifting her eye contact with the journalists before continuing. “In the western part of South America, we’ve found more than sixty-two mines in which QuantumCorp works the same way.”
A dozen hands rose into the air. Tanya pointed to a woman in the middle of the room, who stood up.
“Lisa Lert, NRT News. Are you sure about that number? Sixty-two?”
Tanya smiled grimly. “Absolutely sure. After the press conference, we will distribute an information booklet containing all the data we’re presenting today.”
Lisa Lert sat down, and Tanya continued.
“Our investigation has shown that this atrocity is happening in other parts of the world, as well as illegal mining operations, all under the auspices of QuantumCorp. We have gathered evidence cases from Zimbabwe and Liberia, for example. Take a look.”
Tanya nodded to Ben, who pressed a button on an iPad. A projector in the ceiling lit up, and a video flickered behind them. It showed a group of men without protective gear working in a large, muddy hole. Using axes and shovels, they filled bucket after bucket with muddy soil that was then dragged out of the hole. Whoever was filming slipped, and the scene moved erratically. A few seconds passed before it stabilized again. Someone shouted, and people started to move away from the edge of the hole.
There were more shouts, and some of the men tried in a panic to climb up along the muddy walls. Their hands couldn’t find a hold, and one by one, they slid down. As if in slow motion, one of the sides collapsed, first haltingly, then faster until all the sides came crashing down. The screaming voices were cut off when the miners were buried alive. A couple of journalists cried out, but Tanya raised her hands, calling for quiet.
“This video was taken in Liberia a month ago. As you can see, the poor men in these countries work under terrible conditions. They risk their lives for less than a dollar a day.”
Suddenly, the room spun before Tanya’s eyes, and she fell silent. Most of the journalists didn’t notice her gently swaying back and forth, since their attention was still directed at the video. She grabbed the edge of the table to make the room stop spinning.
A weak voice echoed in her head, and she thought she was experiencing some type of audio illusion. She shook her head to make it disappear.
Now. Do it now. Now. Do it now.
Ben whispered, “Tanya, what is it? Are you okay?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine. Super fine.”
Ben frowned at the strange comment. Tanya rubbed her temples, and light flashed in front of her eyes. The voice inside her head grew louder.
Now. Do it now. Now. Do it now.
A drop of sweat ran along her forehead and she wiped it away. She abruptly stood up. Several of the journalists had, by now, switched their focus from the film to her and were staring at her curiously.
“I apologize,” she said shakily, attempting to chuckle. “We’ve had a big week. Let’s move on.”
Now. Do it now. Now. Do it now.
She walked around the table, and panic intensified in her mind as the voice grew more and more forceful.
Now. Do it now. Now. Do it now—kill them!
She fell silent and closed her eyes. The whole room was staring at her now. Ben stood up, walked over to her, and put his arm on her shoulder.
“Tanya, are you okay? Do you need to take a break?”
Tanya opened her eyes, and Ben took a step back when he saw how they glittered.
*
So close. Xi entered the Oriental Mandarin’s exquisite lobby. A group of people came down the steps, and Xi stepped aside to let them pass. Pain pounded through his right leg with every step he took, but he ignored it. That didn’t matter right now. He pushed it from his mind until it was nothing but a distant memory. He headed up the stairs and found it—a sign that said Techyx Press Conference.
A couple of guards stood in front of the doors leading to the room where the press conference was being held. Xi watched as two women walked up to the guards, held up a pair of access cards, and entered. Xi swore. He had to get hold of one of those cards, but how? He stepped aside as the seconds ticked by, frustration growing within him.
A man opened the door and came out of the conference room appearing agitated. He grabbed one of the guards.
“Where’s the bathroom? I have to get some water for one of the presenters. Something is wrong with her.”
The guard pointed to the left, confused, and the man ran in that direction. Xi grinned—his chance had arrived. He followed the man into the bathroom. Inside, the room smelled like a mixture of flowers and detergent. As Xi entered, the man was filling a small plastic bottle at one of the sinks. At first, he took no note of Xi, but when Xi made no effort to go into a toilet stall, the man looked at him in the mirror.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to need your access card.”
The man frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I need your card. Give it to me now and I’ll let you live.”
The man glared at Xi. “Get lost before I call the guards.”
Xi lowered his head and took a step forward. “You’re right,” he said softly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
The man shot Xi a bewildered look, turned off the water, and screwed the top back on the bottle. Just then, Xi let his knife slip into his hand from his sleeve, and in a sweeping motion, he sliced the man’s throat wide open.
The pulmonary vein pumped blood like a fountain with each heartbeat, and the man pressed his hands against his throat in a futile attempt to stop the blood. Before long, he dropped to his knees. Xi stood over him and pulled the access card from around his neck.
“You should have just given it to me.”
The man’s eyes rolled back, and he fell over. Xi washed off the blood-stained card and lanyard, then pulled it over his head. As he walked out of the bat
hroom, he grabbed a yellow ‘wet floor’ sign and put it in front of the bathroom door. He took a quick breath and approached the guards at the door.
Soon. He could almost taste it.
*
Something was wrong. Hugo got up and took a few steps to the side to see better. The female researcher stood on the podium and swayed. Her male colleague held his hand on her shoulder and said something to her.
Freya leaned toward Hugo and whispered, “What’s happening?”
“Something’s going on.”
The two researchers made no effort to stop the press conference. A couple of journalists rose.
“What is it? Is everything okay?”
The male scientist gave a thumbs-up and someone to the right laughed. Hugo shook his head. He watched as a wave of anxiety began to slide over the people closest to the stage.
“He’s lying. Something is wrong.”
Hugo’s brain went into overdrive. He scouted around to find out what his instincts were warning him about, but he couldn’t pick up on any threats. The video on the wall had stopped, but the researchers still did nothing. Another journalist stood.
“Are we going to continue or not? I don’t have time to sit here all day.”
Something inside Hugo clicked. It more of a feeling than a thought. The last twenty-four hours had been like a fog, and he was struggling to give himself time to process everything they had been through. And that was probably why he hadn’t seen it before.
What now flashed through him was like a white light of realization. If you were going to carry out the perfect attack—not just a bloody coup, but a spectacular act—it would require willpower beyond the ordinary. It would require a mind for detail and the ability to form a plan that would place all blame on the innocent. And who is more innocent than the victims?
The female scientist turned to her colleague and let out a blood-curdling scream.
*
The whole room froze as one. Tanya’s voice went up an octave, and her screams increased in intensity. The journalists in the front row took a frightened step back when Tanya took a tiger-leap toward Ben.
Ben stumbled backward with Tanya on top of him, screaming and clawing. People screamed and shouted around them, and Hugo gasped.
“They’re the assassins themselves!”
He rushed forward, passing two men who stood like statues staring at what was playing out in front of them.
He stumbled onto the stage, and the two scientists, who had been in complete harmony only a few minutes ago, now fought for life and death. The woman clawed long, bloody wounds into the man’s face, and he screamed.
“No! Tanya, no! Help me!”
Hugo rushed forward, and a couple of journalists broke out of their paralysis when they saw him running toward danger. They also began to move toward the struggling scientists. Hugo leaped over a chair, past two screaming women, and jumped toward the white-clad woman who was using her long nails like weapons.
He caught a whiff of blood as he soared toward her. He hit her high up on the shoulder, and the two of them tumbled back. The woman shifted focus from her colleague to Hugo. She got onto her feet as smoothly as a panther, and Hugo her eyes glitter in a way he had never seen before.
“Stop!” he roared.
The woman either didn’t understand what he said or didn’t listen. But it didn’t matter. She licked her lips, and to Hugo’s dismay, she ran her fingers into her own forehead and ripped downward. Blood streamed down her face, and the people in the room let out a gathered gasp of horror.
Hugo knew that the scientist was beyond all ability to communicate. The only thing they could do now was to try to immobilize her until the police arrived. Both of the journalists Hugo had passed had now come up behind her but were clearly unsure how to proceed.
Hugo thundered, “On my signal! Three, two, one, now!”
But a fraction of a second before they jumped on her, the other scientist roared, and the room froze to ice once more.
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It was a sound Hugo had never heard a human make before. It had come from somewhere deep within the male researcher’s throat, and it was equal parts primal and terrifying. The man squatted and began to rock back and forth. The two journalists who had rushed forward to help Hugo found themselves standing between the two rabid scientists, and they hesitated. And that hesitation was enough.
The woman, her face covered in gore, leaped and began tearing into one of the men. Hugo saw the attack coming and threw himself at her but found her to be inhumanly strong. He tried in vain to grab hold of her arms but failed. She waved her arms like weapons, and the blood that dripped from her face made every part of her skin slippery and impossible to get a real grip. One of the journalists turned and retreated as his courage betrayed him.
Hugo yelled, “Come on! Help me!”
But the man hesitated and took a few more steps back.
“Hugo!” Freya rushed forward with the yellow bag in one hand. She threw it to the terrified journalist, who swallowed hard and then threw himself toward Hugo and the screaming woman. They struggled to get hold of her until finally, Hugo managed to wrap his legs around her waist and grip her in a headlock.
Freya tried to hold the woman’s flailing arms. The scientist got one arm free and sliced Freya on the cheek.
Freya reacted instinctively and punched the woman in the face, which made her calm down. But the calm only lasted a few seconds. Her primitive instinct returned, and she roared so loudly that Hugo felt his eardrums vibrate.
“The bag!” he gasped. “Now!”
Three meters away, the man stood just there, staring uncomprehendingly at Hugo.
“Now! Give it to me!” came Freya’s booming voice. That got him to move. He ran forward and threw the bag onto the floor next to her.
“Can you hold her?” Freya asked.
“Yes—get the machine out!”
Every muscle in Hugo’s body was stretched to the limit as he held onto the manic woman. It felt like a rusty dagger was lodged in his shoulder. Freya leaped to the bag, ripped it open, and took hold of the scanner. She pulled out the two metal sensors and tried to hold them against the woman’s head. The crazed researcher pushed it aside.
“Hold her!”
Hugo tasted blood in his mouth. “Okay—now!” he shouted.
Freya brought the metal plates back, and this time they made contact. Freya pressed the button, and a low hum emanated from the machine. A few seconds passed, and as the scanner buzzed, the woman’s frenzied screams subsided and her body began to relax.
Hugo saw small, flashing stars as he slowly let her go. The woman went limp and dropped to the floor, moaning. Freya stumbled onto her legs and reached down to Hugo.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
He grabbed her hand and pulled himself up. “I hope so. I think so. A bit sore, though.”
At that moment, another abysmal noise bellowed through the room. Hugo and Freya spun around to see the other researcher rushing toward them.
*
Xi couldn’t believe his luck. A roar pierced the conference room door, and both of the guards tensed. They hesitated for a few seconds, and Xi studied them. Another bellowing sound rumbled from the other side door, and Xi flinched.
The voice—if that’s what it was—didn’t sound human. It sounded like whatever was screaming was in unimaginable pain. As Xi watched, one of the guards mustered some courage and opened the door. He stuck his head in, then turned and said something Xi didn’t hear. He pulled out his weapon, fully opened the door, and shouted to his colleague. Then the two men rushed into the room. Xi saw a piece of the utter pandemonium through the doorway.
What was going on in there? But now was not the time to hesitate. Not when he’d come so far. Xi tightened every muscle. This was his moment. He held his knife close to his body and barreled through the open door. Nothing could have prepared him for the chaos that met him inside. About thirty people stood back a considerable dista
nce from a man in a white lab coat who shrieked as if possessed. Chairs lay overturned. The white-clad man ran straight toward some journalists standing next to a woman (also in a lab coat) who was lying on the floor. The woman’s face was covered with dark red blood, and she wasn’t moving.
Xi recognized the screeching man as one of the researchers who was supposed to present to the assembled journalists today. Xi flinched at the sight of the scientist’s insane eyes, then took an involuntary step back. At the front of the room, one of the people attending to the unconscious woman stood, bounded toward the deranged researcher, and tackled him to the ground. As both men collapsed, it struck Xi who this challenger was: it was Hugo.
A shock passed through Xi’s body. His instincts had been right, after all. Hugo was here. The scientist and Hugo rolled around on the floor, and a woman nearby shouted.
“Hugo, look out!”
Both of the guards were rushing forward, weapons drawn. “Stop!” they commanded.
Hugo pulled his fist back and landed a straight right on the researcher’s jaw. The man kneeled, swayed, and nearly fell, but managed to remain upright. Then, unexpectedly, he turned away from Hugo, as if he’d lost interest in the fight.
“On the ground! Now!” shouted the guards. They took a step forward, but the scientist made no effort to listen. He lifted his hands as if to pray and then began to tear at himself on the neck. Blood was soon streaming down, staining his white coat bright red. Xi blinked in surprise.
The guards came closer. “Now! Get down!”
As if the bloodied scientist finally heard them, he slowly turned toward them and exposed bloody teeth. Everything was still for a moment; then he rushed toward the guards, screaming. Immediately, they opened fire. The bullets lifted the wounded man’s bloody body into the air like a tattered mitten. He flew back, crashed to the floor, and moved no more.
Hugo grabbed hold of one of his comrade’s extended hands and pulled himself up. Just a few feet away, a wave of white-hot rage flooded Xi’s mind. He barreled toward the guards, punching one of them in the throat and bringing him to his knees. Xi hurdled him and struck the other between his legs; that one dropped, too.
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