Chasing The Dawn (Luke Temple - Book 2) (Luke Temple Series) (44 page)

“But … you are dead,” Chung Su managed.

Vittorio sniggered. “I certainly hope not.”

I don’t understand,
the words rattled around her head. It all seemed so impossible, but yet stood in front of her, in flesh and blood was Professor Vittorio. “I don’t understand.”

“Come now, Miss Chung, I appreciate it was a shock, but I believe if you look hard enough you can understand quite well.”

She could not, and Vittorio’s words confused her even more. But then as he tucked the cloth back in his pocket she felt a pang of familiarity, something surreal in his appearance, beyond mere recognition.

He continued calmly. “Firstly, I must apologise for my brother. He relishes the harsher side of our work, but please don’t take it as anything more than passion.”

Chung Su had a cold tingle run down her spine. In his face she saw a ghostly overlay taking shape. He became familiar in his features, the dark-ringed eyes, the grey flecks … all that was missing was the thicker beard.
Beltrano is his brother?

“Well, where do I start?” Vittorio grabbed a wheeled chair and positioned it so that he was sat facing her. “This is all so much to take in, isn’t it? And believe me, not just for you, but for me also. I am a tremendous fan of your work. With the resources you have had to make do with, you have been incredibly inventive in the research you have been undertaking.”

My work?
Her mind went to her colleagues. The web of deceit seemed so tightly wound that she had no clue as to what was real and what wasn’t anymore.

Vittorio continued: “You are here, at the heart of all that you have been searching for. I suspect that Roland may have brought you up to speed a little on what we have achieved?”

Chung Su just stared; the light in Vittorio’s eyes flickered and flashed. She was in the presence of greatness, but a dark shadow clouded the room, as though she were sat with a fallen angel.

“Professor Brun would no doubt have wanted you to know the full story,” Vittorio nodded. Chung Su thought she saw a momentary flicker of pain run across Vittorio’s face as he mentioned his old colleague, but it vanished as quickly as it arrived. “Well, here it is.” Vittorio gestured around the room with his hand.

Come on Chung Su, be strong, be strong.
But all she could muster were four words: “You killed Professor Brun.”

The pain again flashed across Vittorio’s face. His leg began to bounce up and down incessantly. “Roland was a good man, none of this could have been possible without him, but we are called upon to take tough decisions, and unless we make them we cannot raise ourselves out of the darkness. He went too far, Miss Chung … the speech at the gala was only ever meant to include the speed of the neutrino, but as you saw the misguided morals of my dear friend overran him. It is not a decision I regret, but it is one that saddens my heart. He was a brilliant man, a fantastic partner, but he could never have shared our dream. He is one of them, it is in his soul …” he trailed off.

“I don’t understand.” Chung Su was lost. “But … but …” the mixture of thoughts overwhelmed her, and then one memory struck her. “But your brother interrogated the professor?”

Vittorio smiled. “All part of the charade, actors on a stage.”

Chung Su ran it through her mind. The young Carabinieri floated through, pieces falling into place. “You needed his colleagues to think he was really searching for you …”

Vittorio nodded. “It was vital. By treating my disappearance as genuine it allowed my brother to eliminate anyone who got too close. He was interrogating people to understand what they knew, all under the guise of a good Carabinieri officer.”

My colleagues,
she thought.

As if reading her mind, Vittorio spoke solemnly. “That included your countrymen, Miss Chung.”

Chung Su convulsed.

“Now, now. Come on. You put them into danger, it was inevitable. We knew about them for a very long time. It was in fact my brother who felt that we could use them, and it seems as though he was right.”

“Use them?” Chung Su snapped.

“Yes, once we knew they were attempting to supply you with data, we felt we could begin to make sure they fed you the wrong data, all very subtly of course. We kept them on the primary OPERA experiment; they never even knew what we were undertaking here. That is the joy of Western orgainisations such as CERN; they are afforded the luxury of freedom. Money is their key to doing what they want. That freedom allowed us total secrecy. Your countrymen were consistently fed incorrect data by Professor Brun after tests and calibrations. All very masterful. We felt that it would slow you down much more effectively than simply eliminating your colleagues.”

Chung Su wanted to scream. The pain and embarrassment were unbearable. She had been completely and utterly manipulated, along with her whole team. They never had any hope of replicating OPERA; the shame was born from the irony that her team should have just followed her own studies; they became so reliant on the data they applied it verbatim … and they lost.

Vittorio took a deep breath. “Roland rode the journey with me, but our tracks would always diverge.”

Chung Su hardened. She had felt such a loving connection for Professor Brun, and Vittorio had betrayed him. The tears came, but they fell silently.

“Come now, Miss Chung, you are stronger than this.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Why?” Vittorio seemed shocked. “That is not a question I was expecting.” He leaned in close. “Why did you carry out the work you did? It was for the same reason I did. We are so very similar.”

“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” she said feebly.

“Oh please, Miss Chung, you are disappointing me. You surely are not that naive? Your leaders want to crush them as much as we do … we simply serve different masters. I must say it took a while to learn what was happening, the men you sent were good at their job.” Vittorio looked down at the floor. “But for us … for you and I, Miss Chung, there is more, isn’t there? This is not about power or control … what really fires us, burns inside our hearts is the
discovery!
Standing on the shoulders of great men and forging our own path.” Vittorio’s eyes burned brightly.

Chung Su felt utterly ashamed to see a great man transformed into a psychotic maniac … and to feel so connected with him. The pain and suffering of so many was brought into sharp focus by the events of the past week. Her mind jumped to her countrymen, the horrors she feared they went through …
all for my work.
Her pulse rate shot up as she thought she would be subject to the same horrors when Beltrano finally got the chance to interrogate her.

Chung Su groaned. “The invite to the gala?”

“Oh that was merely the means to get you here; after my brother had drained every last drop of truth from your countrymen, we knew we had to speak with you, and it just so happened that this year’s gala had fallen to me … we take the opportunities when they present themselves. My brother was confident that after your masters had not heard from their little spies such an invite would be too good an opportunity to pass up. “He smiled.

Chung Su felt ashamed that she had thought the invite had come to her by merit alone.

Vittorio nodded. “We gave you what you craved … acceptance. Please don’t be disappointed by that. I fully understand the need to be accepted, to work out why you are shunned, repressed for no reason other than what blood courses through your veins.” His face contorted with anger.

“You wanted me here so you could capture me …”

“I don’t like the word capture. My brother wanted to simply kill you but I convinced him you deserved to be able to see what we have here, the moment that will change human history. You and I could have been brother and sister in the fight, Miss Chung, but life decreed that was not to be. You will have your moment in history … it will be your finest, and your last.”

Chung Su closed her eyes. At the end of everything there is nothing left to fear, and it slowly dawned on her that she would not be leaving the laboratory alive.

“But why all of this?” Chung Su asked.

“All of what?”

“The secrets, the lies …” Chung Su felt the leg ties dig into her skin as she tried to move.

“Because we must live in shadow until the light is ready to shine.”

Chung Su had had enough of the rhetoric. “Answer me, Professor, why the hell go through all of this? You had everything …”

“Did I? I had nothing; I watched as the West bled my country dry, I watched as they sucked everything away from us, killing who they wanted, destroying what they wanted. Did they give anything back? No! Every major scientific breakthrough, vaccines, energy resources, they packaged and sold …” He was pacing around the room. “They are even destroying themselves. They destroy the world for all of us; they invade our lands, churn our crops and blacken our skies … all for their own gain. They have shamed us for centuries! Well, no more. I have given my life to see them humbled and I have built my temple with which to strike. I spent years making my way up an organization I despised, an organization my father despised, all the time being someone else, hiding from the world. Now Allah has given us the power with which to strike back!
Allahu Akbar
!”

“God does not have a place in science … this is
your
evil, none of this is a higher power!” Chung Su grimaced at the thought.

Vittorio quoted as if reading from an almighty text, “Anybody who has been seriously engaged in scientific work of any kind realises that over the entrance to the gates to the temple of science are written the words ‘Ye must have faith’.”

“Max Planck,” Chung Su answered drily.

“Very good, Miss Chung,” Vittorio smiled. “A most brilliant man. He was wise enough to see that faith drives
everything
.” Vittorio’s face softened and he peered deep into her eyes. “Can you not see?’’

“But men will fight you for what you have created … whatever it is that you have done, Professor, look at the pain it has already caused.” Chung Su was weakening.

“Pain? What about
our
pain, yours and mine, Miss Chung. Tell me you do not feel it, that same pain and pride?” Vittorio asked.

Chung Su shook her head.

“Come on, you feel it, right in here,” he jabbed a finger at her heart. “You feel the burn. You let yourself be used, let yourself be poked and prodded. You were not so stupid …
you wanted it.
”

“No!” The force of Chung Su’s scream checked Vittorio and he straightened. “No!” she screamed again. Everything was overflowing, the shame, the hurt, the fear. Her life now seemed like an empty vessel that someone else had filled up.

Vittorio’s lips creased at the sides. “There is that fire! I have so much to show you, and I know you cannot resist the urge to discover the true
how.
For so many years I have hidden who I am, but tonight that is no longer a burden I must carry.”

Vittorio turned and walked over to the television screen. He pressed a button and it whined into life. It showed no picture, only a digitised clock at the top left-hand corner of the screen. It flashed 6 p.m.

Vittorio went to say something but stopped himself; he gave the familiar smile. “You were not alone in Teramo … and for that I am sorry, because it means I have ordered my brother to speak to you after we are done.”

Chung Su kept stoic.

Vittorio barked some orders in Arabic and the door swung open. One of the men who had brought her in bent down and cut away her ankle ties; the skin throbbed.

“I trust you will be no trouble?” Vittorio asked and offered her his arm to aid her in standing up. She refused and gingerly stood. Vittorio started out of the room. “Follow me.” She hobbled after him, walking back out into the tunnel.

They came to a solid steel door. Vittorio typed some numbers and the door slid open; he gestured for her to step inside.

Decontamination Unit.

“There is no need to shower in front of me, Miss Chung, but please spray your clothes and put a suit on.” Vittorio gestured to a dark blue protective suit hanging up on a peg, along with plastic goggles and a red hard hat.

Chung Su grabbed the jet nozzle of the canister of CBRN decontaminant and sprayed. Vittorio did the same on his side of the room; they then both suited up. Chung Su felt an acute sadness at the familiar procedure.

Vittorio pulled out a piece of cloth. “Please, Miss Chung, indulge me.” He gestured that it was to go over her goggles. Chung Su was reluctant.

“I promise you it is merely for dramatic purposes. It is not to cause you any harm.”

Chung Su sighed.

“Come on, we must be quick.” Vittorio raised the cloth, not giving her any choice. She closed her eyes and let Vittorio press the cloth against her goggles, tightening it around the back of her head. The world was black once more.

“Please take my arm.”

Chung Su felt for his arm, taking hold. She heard the door slide open and a wave of noise rush in.

The heat and exertion was causing sweat to drip down Luke’s back and face. The dry-bag was tucked against his side as there was not enough space to keep it on his back. Gripped in his right hand was the S Frame. He had the torch beam on and the small circle of light was his only illumination.

The initial abseil had indeed allowed him to reach the first metallic level; he had left the rope hanging, which wasn’t ideal as it was a concern that other posted guards would notice the ventilation hatch and the rope leading down, but he had no choice. The problem he was then faced with was there was only one direction the shaft led, and that was horizontal.

He had been edging along at a snail’s pace, and he was thankful that he had never suffered from claustrophobia because there appeared to be no end to the shaft. He stopped to wipe the sweat away from his eyes. There was a genuine worry that the shaft was not going to lead anywhere. Perhaps it would only lead to a smaller shaft that dropped further down into the abyss, and if that were the case he would be stuck.

You have made a mistake, Luke.

The voice was a niggling doubt that wouldn’t leave him. Lying there, he turned the torch to his newly acquired watch: 6.07 p.m.