Into the Lion's Den (90 page)

“The list is true or false? I hardly doubt that we could have such leak.”

“Michael's people swear it didn't come from us!”

“Offer these hackers three hundred millions. If they refuse, then it's false. If they agree, pay and solve the problem. Discreetly.”

“Including our ones?”

“If they can't keep some hackers away from us, they're useless.”

“All right.”

“Good night, Ferdinand.”

“Go home, Konrad, I can solve this with Goran. Don't worry. Perhaps it's only blackmail.”

“I'm certain of that. Someone is pitting the German government against us. They want to force a close examination of our methodologies. Find out who is behind those hackers. I'm sure this is related with Guntram's disappearance. It's someone who knows us very well.”

“We can't be certain of that! Do you really think that the lad is a traitor? No way, Konrad!”

“Not him! I think someone is using him as a diversion and this is no coincidence at all. If we find the one who did this with the list, then we will find Guntram.”

“This is very far fetched, Konrad.”

“I think not. Our new enemy is very patient and knows us very well. Let's fix this situation before it escalates.”

“Of course. Go home, you need some rest.” 'You're starting to see plots everywhere,' Ferdinand thought but decided to be quiet.

“Yes, you're right. I'll go home and think over this. This has nothing to do with Repin and I'm convinced that this person used him to get to me; to hit me where it was most painful.”

“Guntram left you because of Roger. No one but you is responsible for that. You should have left the boy alone in St. Petersburg. You played with fire and got burnt. Don't come crying now. I'm more concerned about the boy's health than with your crying. I only hope that his heart can endure the news. Go home now.”

“Good night, Ferdinand.”

March 22nd 2006

Aschaffenburg.

The week had been absolutely madness at the firm. Nicholas was overwhelmed by two cases and he had to help him. Michel had shouted long in Paris with Repin for losing his child to some strangers and probably members of the Order. The Russian was furious and desperate at the same time, biting the hook he had left dangling in front of his eyes. He had travelled to Buenos Aires to look for Guntram.

Lintorff on the other hand had been cleverer and didn't believe the story of the false Guntram going back to Argentina. He had no idea where to look for but he was still focusing his efforts in Europe and around Vienna. The charade with the hackers had only kept him busy for a week and he had easily evaded the authorities, offering them, sotto voce, information about some of his clients, just to prove how transparent he was. 'Exactly as always, sacrifice one pawn to keep the tower or the knight. He's getting better and better.' He had had to remove the young hackers from Europe before Lintorff would have found and killed them. 'If he can take apart a six months plan in a week, then my chances to finish him are dimmer than I originally estimated. The American journalists have no chance at all against him and I, have nothing really big against him. I thought that losing Guntram would weaken and distract him, but his senses are sharper than before. The bastard even used my ruse to eliminate some of his internal competition!

I'm afraid that now he's more alert than before.”

But his main source of concern was his son himself. Although the boy had truly forgiven him and did his best to look fine when his father was around, he could feel the deep sorrow pouring out of his boy; exactly as when he had lost his wife. His health was deteriorating with each passing day, refusing to eat, forgetting to take his pills, always nervous and afraid that the Russians would come after his father… and heartbroken because Konrad von Lintorff had lied to him.

Guntram was almost catatonic the whole day, according to Fairuza, not speaking with anyone or only sitting in the garden to look at the trees and sometimes he would draw something that was immediately destroyed.

'I can't lose him again. Perhaps it's time to forget about the Order and Lintorff. Revenge means nothing if I ruin my child's life or kill him in the process. I'm just a man fighting against three hundred years of oppression and the worst part is that no one gives a shit. Ease, self indulgence and passivity are this world's driving forces. I have to take Guntram away so he forgets that monster. How could he fall in love with him?' Michel thought dejectedly as he went to kiss his son hello and get one of his forced and sad smiles.

March 25th

Aschaffenburg.

“Papa, may I sleep with you tonight? I don't feel well,” Guntram's voice woke Michel up in the middle of the night.

“Come here and lay down,” he answered, doing his best to hide his concern. This was the first time that his child had complained about something and he had looked truly sick since the afternoon, refusing to dine or watch TV with him. He had fallen deeply asleep several times during the day.

“I can't lie down, I can't breath well. I feel suffocated.”

“Do you have any kind of pain in the chest? Did you take your pills?”

“No, no pain at all and I took my pills. Just let me stay with you,” Guntram pleaded. “It's nothing like I've felt before.”

Michel jumped out of the bed and got dressed while Guntram sat in his bed, panting and coughing. “I'm driving you to the hospital now. Can you dress by yourself or do you need help?”

“Just let me sleep.”

Michel swore in French and knew that it was worse than he had previously estimated.

Michel sat in the empty waiting room for a long time. Four hours passed by before a young doctor came out of the ER room to brief him. “Is he all right?”

“I'm afraid your son's condition is serious, Mr. Lacroix. He suffered a pulmonary oedema and we had to drain out the liquid by puncturing his lungs. It's a relatively common complication with patients with heart failure. He will remain in the ICU for a day or two and then, we will move him for a day to a normal room. We need to be certain that he's stable and his lungs and heart responding well to the treatment. You may see him tomorrow at nine.”

“Will he be fine?”

“His reaction so far has been adequate, sir. His cardiologist will speak with you tomorrow. Excuse me now, please.”

“Thank you doctor,” Michel answered automatically.

Buenos Aires was not the same without his angel. Before it had been a source of joy to visit it, expecting to see him and get a smile or a kiss from him. It was empty now. Zakharov had done his best to look for Guntram, but nothing so far.

Lacroix had no idea also and although he had given him many names from Guntram's past in Argentina, nothing had come up. The lawyer was clean. His entire security team was still in Brussels or in Geneva, fulfilling their duties and the man had not changed a single thing in his schedule. Working in Brussels from Mondays to Thursdays and taking a flight in the night to Frankfurt where he had a flat for the weekend. He had never security around him and if he had something to do with Guntram's disappearance he would have not been so crazy as to be running in the open.

Lacroix was almost driving him mad with his constant calls and reproaches for losing Guntram in Vienna.

The small meeting room in the hospital awoke many ghosts in Michel, 'they still use creosote to clean hospitals,' he thought, wrinkling his nose at the piercing partly faded smell. 'Exactly as when Cécile was for the last time in a hospital.' He closed his eyes dismissing the painful memory.

“Mr. Lacroix? I'm Dr. Siebenmorgen, I'm the cardiologist in charge of Maurice's case.”

“Good morning, doctor,” he answered, shaking's the man's hand.

“I've spoken with doctor Rammstein about your son's case. He's progressing well and we are confident to release him in four days time, but his general prognosis is not encouraging. His lungs accumulated fluids because his heart is not pumping well enough, meaning that his condition is deteriorating at a fast pace. This kind of heart patients, especially one with such a negative history and young age can be easily placed on the top of the transplants lists, but you must be aware that the risk of dying during such surgeries is over fifty percent.”

“Does he need a heart transplant?”

“Not yet but soon. Of course there are other therapeutic and surgery measures we can take to delay it, but you must understand that this is something you must face, with some luck, in a few years. It's also a surgery that needs a lot of mental preparation for the patient.”

“I understand, doctor,” Michel whispered. “May I see him now?”

“In the afternoon. He's still under sedation. He needs to rest as much as possible and be in a stress free environment, but his own doctor will inform you.”

“Thank you, doctor,” he said totally defeated.

“Hi, are you Konrad?” The young nurse asked Michel, before letting him in the ICU room.

“My name is Michel Lacroix. I'm Maurice Lacroix's father,” he barked with a barely contained fury at hearing his enemy's name. Obviously his son had asked for him.

“Sorry, my mistake. Patients tell the most funny things when they come out of the anaesthesia. He said many times Konrad and I assumed it was your name. Yes, here it's fine, I should have checked beforehand,” she excused herself while rummaging the papers attached to her clipboard. “Maurice is awaken now and responding well.

Come in, you can see him now.”

“Thank you,” the man walked along the corridor of beds, only separated by some curtains, to his son's bed.

“Hello,” Guntram smiled weakly as his father took his hand. “That was for not being there when I had measles. You look horrible.”

“I was not handsome to start with, so everything is fine,” Michael joked, squeezing lightly his son's hand, enormously relieved. “Your mother was blind, I guess.”

“Please, don't say that. Everyone says I take my features from you.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better: I can breath on my own. The needle was very big. I'm glad I'm done with my vaccinations.

I will never look at them the same.”

“The doctor says you can leave tomorrow the ICU and after two more days, you can return home.”

“I'm glad. They starve you here.”

“It will not improve any sooner, my son. Fairuza sends her regards.”

“Thank you,” Guntram answered, wondering why his mind was back to Konrad. 'He's a bloody snake!

He fucked with your own uncle! Forget about him!'

“I will let you rest and see you tomorrow at eight.”

Konrad was so nervous that night and he didn't know why. The usual glass of cognac had done nothing to sooth his nerves. Once more he turned around in his side of the bed, hearing the snores of the 'bloody beast' hidden in Guntram's closet, defending her place with all teeth. 'Never judge an enemy for his size. I'll ask her vet to sedate her and take her away.'

'I wish I could be in her place. I can't shake off the feeling that there's something very wrong with Guntram!'

Chapter 30

May 4th, 2006

Zurich

Crossing into the enemy's territory was something he was familiar with. He had been doing it since he was twenty years old. After so many years, he was still marvelled how confident people felt at their own “lairs” that they never checked anything. The brother of the most wanted man for the Order was standing in front of the Lintorff Privatbank in Börsenstrasse under the scornful look of the frontispiece caryatids, and the three apes guarding the gate had not even taken a look at him. 'Lintorff still has the same holes he had in his security as in 1989'.

He crossed the street and one of the big apes cut him off. “Michel Lacroix. I have a date with Mr.

Davenport at the Legal Office,” were his magical words and the huge man moved aside. 'Lintorff could spend some more and feed them with herring, perhaps their brains could develop a little.”

For appearances sake, he went to the reception girl, an extremely good looking and elegant blonde woman and repeated the story. She smiled kindly and spoke over the phone.

“Someone will be here to take you to Mr. Davenport's office.”

“Thank you.”

Another secretary, in her mid-fifties this time, led him to the 4th floor where you could read all the lawyers names written in golden letters. 'Still the idiot of Merenghetti is here. Only good for dealing with Italian Mafia heads. No idea of corporate law.'

“
Notaire
Lacroix, thank you very much for coming. Mr. Lefèbre has spoken so highly of you.”

“I thank you the time you take to see me. Our client, Mr. Rochefoucalt wants to marry again and I've noticed some irregularities in his properties' listings. I was hoping you could enlighten me…”

“Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Davenport.”

“It's been a pleasure and I should thank you. Speaking with you has been most educational. Have you never considered to write a contractual law treaty?”

“No, where would be all of us if magicians tell people where is the rabbit hidden?”

“You're right, we need to look after our own interests,” the lawyer chuckled.

“That's the idea behind a guild.” Lacroix smiled, while the other man pushed the elevator's button. Once inside he pushed the number five button and he took a deep calming breath. Now was the dangerous part. To catch a slippery eel with more teeth than a moraine and temperamental as a rabid shark.

The young secretary looked in awe at the medium size man, elegantly dressed with his overcoat casually but elegantly hanging over his shoulders, 'French, no doubt'.

“Can you please tell the Duke that Jerôme de Lisle is here to see him?” he repeated and the girl opened her mouth.

“Do you have an appointment, sir?” she whispered, thinking hard how the man could be here and why Clara had told her nothing. 'De Lisle as the Duke's boyfriend? The same that stood him up in Vienna?'

“Be a dear and run to his secretary and tell her I'm here. Or better, go and get von Kleist or Pavicevic, the young one.” Lacroix explained her kindly and slowly as the girl was obviously in shock.

The tall and proud figure of Ferdinand, followed by two of his aides, came out of one of the doors and Lacroix simply said. “Ferdinand, my boy. Be useful and tell Konrad that I'm here.”