The Einstein Pursuit (26 page)

His limousine was parked just outside the roped-off area that marked the future site of the hospital, and his driver was waiting dutifully. Once Zidane was safely inside the limo – beyond the range of ambitious reporters, prying eyes and the glaring sun – he opened a bottle of chilled Taittinger and filled a crystal flute for himself.

It wasn’t an act of celebration. The hospital project was never in doubt.

And it wasn’t an act of arrogance. There was no one in the limo to impress.

Zidane simply preferred fine champagne to water.

‘Where to, sir?’ the driver asked.

‘The harbor, please.’

‘Very good, sir.’

The driver raised the partition, then pulled into traffic.

Zidane sat back and watched the charming streets pass by as they made their way toward the harbor. He remembered when he had first visited Como, back when the area was known mainly for its production of silk. Sadly – at least for those who appreciated exquisite finery – that aspect of Como’s economy had been seriously weakened as foreign competitors introduced cheaper manufacturing. The silk trade had carried the city since medieval times, but now tourism was the primary industrial focus in Como.

Nestled between the foothills of the Alps and the banks of the lake, Como offered a multitude of museums, parks, theaters, churches and public gardens. The combination of natural and man-made beauty drew thousands of visitors every season. These tourists supported a variety of shops and restaurants throughout the city.

As they approached the water, Zidane tapped on the intercom button and provided further instructions. ‘Keep going to the end of the harbor. Close as you can get to the farthest dock, if you will. Thank you.’

The driver did as he was told, maneuvering the limo to the edge of the roadway adjacent to the most distant pier. He parked the car and hurried to open the rear door.

‘Thank you, young man,’ Zidane said as he exited the vehicle. He had left the champagne flute in the back seat, but he still clutched the bottle of Taittinger.

The driver eyed his hand curiously.

‘Waste not, want not,’ Zidane offered. It was another of the many words of wisdom that he had valued over the years.

‘Of course, sir,’ the driver said.

‘Here, this is for you.’ Zidane pressed a yellow two-hundred-euro note into the driver’s palm.

‘Thank you very much, sir,’ the driver said with a smile. His service now complete, he tipped his hat and made his way back to the limousine.

Zidane turned in the opposite direction and strode purposefully toward the farthest slip. Waiting for him there was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It was the love of his life: his
Amira
.

Named after his mother,
Amira
was a breathtaking yacht focused on opulence rather than speed. It was meant to evoke a sense of luxury, not adrenalin. There were other boats on Lake Como that were bigger and faster, but none had the
Amira
’s grace.

Standing on the lowest of the boat’s three levels was Zidane’s dutiful butler, a man known simply as Frisk.

‘I trust everything was in order?’ Frisk asked as Zidane made his way across the gangplank. His role as butler included nearly every aspect of Zidane’s life, from preparing his meals to arranging his travel. If something unexpected had occurred in Como, it was Frisk who would be held accountable.

‘All went according to plan,’ Zidane replied. He raised the bottle of champagne. ‘Tell me, do we have any strawberries aboard?’

‘The table on the foredeck has been prepared for your afternoon meal. I shall add strawberries to the menu. Also, we are ready to depart at your convenience.’

‘You were able to find the organic hazelnuts?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about the Gruyère?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the salmon?’

‘Flown in from the Pacific this morning, just as you requested.’

Zidane practically drooled with anticipation. He knew the ship’s hold was stocked with these and other delicacies that Frisk had procured while he had attended the hospital event. ‘Very good. Let’s go home.’

In the last half-century, the general populace had developed a much better understanding of this region of northern Italy, due in large part to its having become the preferred destination for some of society’s most recognizable and affluent citizens. The grand summer estates of famous musicians, cinema stars, fashion designers, and business moguls dotted the shores of Lake Como. Many of these properties had garnered praise the world over, appearing in magazines and movies simply to showcase their exquisite setting.

Despite this recent interest, the shores of Lake Como had been recognized for their idyllic beauty for much, much longer. Pliny the Younger had constructed the oldest villas, Tragedia and Comedia, sometime in the first century
AD
. The lake itself and this region of Italy had been popular among the world’s aristocracy for nearly two thousand years.

For a man like Zidane, it was the logical place to call home.

It had been more than twenty-four hours since Cole had detonated the charges in Stockholm. Typically, he would have been halfway around the world by now, basking in the glory of his crime while putting as much space as possible between himself and the authorities. But due to the sensitive nature of this particular job, he was forced to stick around to make sure every specimen had been destroyed in the fire.

If not, he would have to plan another blast.

He had rented an apartment in Stockholm a month before the explosion, paying cash and using an assumed identity. He had needed a base of operations: a place in the same city as his targets from which he could study their every move. He would learn everything he could – the scientists involved, their entry codes, the security measures at the lab and the rotation of the guards – and then he would strike in a way that would ensure success.

Much to his surprise, he had enjoyed his time in the city. Stockholm offered a variety of food and entertainment choices – things he could never find in the jungles, deserts and mountains of his youth. He decided he could get used to the finer things in life, even if he defined ‘finer things’ as simply not having to kill his own dinner.

That
had gotten old over the years.

From now on, Cole wanted to be a better class of criminal.

Someone who farmed out the tasks he didn’t want to do.

Which was why he had brought in Masseri.

Cole had hired him based on his reputation alone. They had never met. In fact, there was no reason for them to
ever
meet. As long as Masseri did what he was paid to do, Cole didn’t need to know him on a personal level. It was a relationship they had developed over many jobs in the past. As long as Masseri held true to his well-deserved reputation as a man who could find and secure anyone, anywhere, there wouldn’t be any issues.

Cole saw no reason why Masseri, having been given an open budget and a handful of men he had used in the past, would have any problems apprehending an octogenarian. He had yet to meet an eighty-year-old who could fend off a trained mercenary, much less half a dozen of them. Yet Masseri had failed to check in during the past twenty-four hours.

When the call finally came, Cole was angry. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

‘I’m still in Pittsburgh,’ Masseri answered calmly.

Both men knew there was no reason to speak in code. The minute this assignment was completed, everything – fake passports, cell phones, credit cards – would be burned. There would be nothing to tie them to either location. Their next mission would bring new destinations and new identities. As such, the only thing they avoided was the use of their real names.

‘Still in Pittsburgh? With the old man?’

‘No … not yet.’

‘What’s the holdup? This should have been a simple assignment. You’re putting me behind schedule, and I don’t like delays.’

‘I don’t like incompetence,’ Masseri countered. ‘So we’re even. Neither of us got what they expected.’

‘What are you talking about? The intel was sound. If you couldn’t find an advantage, that’s on you. Especially given the additional forces I supplied.’

‘Actually,
they
were the problem. If I had handled this myself, they would still be alive.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Your men are dead. All of them.’

Cole was stunned. ‘How?’

‘Bad intel on your part. You failed to mention the special forces.’

‘Special forces? What are you talking about?’

‘Does it matter?’ Masseri asked.

‘It does, actually. If you tell me it’s someone from the Bordo Bereliler of the Turkish special forces, or the Venezuelan Special Operations Squadron, or any one of the many,
many
units in which I have contacts, then maybe there’s something I can do to help. I have more connections than you could possibly imagine. I never thought I’d need to call in a favor to bring in Sahlberg, but if I have to, I have to.’

Cole regretted his words the instant he said them. He knew that no one in their line of work liked to be called out, least of all a professional like Masseri. Supporting a soldier in the field was one thing, but questioning someone’s ability to finish a job was quite another.

He softened his voice and changed his approach. ‘Who are they?’

‘MANIACs,’ Masseri answered. ‘Two of them.’

‘What’s their connection to Sahlberg?’

‘One of them is Jonathon Payne.’

‘Payne?’ Cole asked. ‘As in Payne Industries?’

‘The very same. The other one is named Jones.’

‘And they risked their lives for Sahlberg? Why?’

‘I was hoping you could tell me – after all, you’re the one who failed to warn me of this possibility.’

Cole pondered the new development before speaking again.

Sahlberg was still his focus, but Payne would make for an interesting interrogation. Sahlberg knew the science, but Payne’s secrets would certainly be worth exploring. Given its size, Payne Industries was sure to have a hand in a multitude of R&D divisions. Capturing Payne could open up a whole new world of prosperity. Cole wondered what people would pay for newfangled, cutting-edge equipment – be it a revolutionary new way to mine minerals or a plasma rifle.

At the very least, Payne’s company would pay handsomely for his safe return. Hell, for all Cole knew, there might even be a bounty on him. He had heard tales of corporate espionage taken to extremes, and he wondered if there was an opportunity staring him in the face.

‘I want you to consider Payne a target of opportunity. Sahlberg is the primary objective, but I will double the rate if Payne can be brought in alive,’ he said.

Masseri grimaced. ‘It won’t be easy. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. The old man is one thing, but Payne is an entirely different beast. I want double the rate for Sahlberg, and if I bring in Payne, we’re going to split his bounty fifty–fifty.’

‘Screw you! You’re telling me you can’t handle someone who spends his days in the boardroom? It sounds like you’re slipping.’

Masseri ignored the taunt. ‘Do we have a deal or not?’

‘Fine!’

Cole hung up the phone and laughed. He had no intention of paying Masseri double his rate for Sahlberg. Why would he increase the bounty when it was so much easier to simply kill Masseri for his efforts?

The Egyptian was good, but so were many others.

Easy come, easy go.

After breakfast, they moved their conversation to the living room, where they would be more comfortable. Payne and Jones had learned a lot from Sahlberg, but the revelations about the scientist’s work and his connection to Payne Industries had yet to offer any suspects. They still needed to know more if they were to figure out who had come after Sahlberg, and why.

‘Does the list of victims tell us anything?’ Payne asked as he settled into his favorite chair, a leather recliner he had owned for years. ‘In other words, do their individual specialties add up to something specific?’

Sahlberg frowned. ‘I’m not sure I understand your question.’

Payne glanced at Jones. ‘DJ, help me out.’

He nodded. ‘You said one of the victims was a microbiologist, another was a chemist, and so on. Think about the group as a whole. Why bring these scientists together? What could they have been working on?’

Sahlberg didn’t need to review the list. He was well acquainted with their specialties. ‘Unfortunately, they could have been working on
anything
. Besides the two you mentioned, you’re looking at scientists from nearly a dozen other fields. Physics. Botany. Mathematics. They’re all represented. There’s even a geologist on the list. About the only concentration that isn’t accounted for is astronomy, which means their experiments had to do with earth.’

‘Great!’ Jones teased. ‘That means I can cancel my call to NASA.’

Payne ignored the joke. ‘Think back to your recent conversations with Berglund. Is there anything that became a theme? Maybe some topic that he always looped back to?’

Sahlberg nodded. ‘Tomas was obsessed with the human body – particularly its limitations. He often pondered ways to alter those limitations. For instance, what would we have to do to increase the body’s tolerances?’

‘Tolerances? Like heat, cold, pain – that sort of thing?’

‘I suppose so, yes, but only in the sense of how those types of stimuli are processed. He wasn’t concerned with external materials that could fend off these effects; he was interested in how the body could physically counter invading elements.’

‘Invading elements?’

‘Something foreign to the system.’

‘Such as?’ Jones asked.

Sahlberg thought of an example. ‘Let’s say a splinter of wood lodges itself in the palm of your hand. Pain receptors fire off a message to your brain, letting it know the skin has been pierced. Along the way, the message is interpreted by an area of your spinal column known as the dorsal horn. Before the brain even processes the signal, the dorsal horn has triggered a reflex that causes you to jerk your hand away from the source of the injury. Finally, the brain gets the message. It determines the severity of the event by comparing it to every impulse it has ever received and makes a decision as to how you should react. Does this injury warrant a howling scream or merely a simple wince? Does it call for tears? Should you start to sweat? What about your heartbeat? Should it be faster or slower? The introduction of a foreign body triggers all of this. And that’s just the biochemical response. There are physiological effects as well.’