2 The Dante Connection (29 page)

“In this regard, I agree with Doctor Lenard.” Daniel looked at Charles. “Please escort Monsieur Aumont out.”

The director complained loudly and then resorted to threats. He had no qualms using his position and connections as leverage. I could see the fear beneath it all, but I knew it was not concern for the people in the school’s ball room. It was fear for himself and his reputation. Charles took him by the elbow and pushed him out of the door. I was relieved. Now I could speak without the overwhelming concern that I might be disclosing national secrets.

“You are a goddess.”

I blinked at Pink. He had completely swivelled his chair to look at me. I didn’t know how to react at this exaggerated praise. He smiled at me and turned back to his computers.

“He’s being looked after,” Charles said as he stepped back into the converted bus. I closed my eyes briefly when he shut the door behind him.

“Doc, are you okay?” Manny moved to get up, but stopped when I lifted my hand still holding the programme and pointed it at him as if it were a stop sign.

“I’m fine. It’s just cramped in here.”

“Okay, boys and goddess.” Pink turned and winked at me. “I have the school’s security cameras on the monitors here.”

“Well done, Pink.” Daniel got up from the conference table and pushed past me. I sucked in my breath when his protective jacket touched me. He stopped behind Pink to look at the monitors.

“Pink?” I whispered to Colin to take my mind off the tight space.

“I’m a big fan of her music, Doc.” Pink moved his head until he could see past Daniel to make eye contact with me.

“Oh.” My smile was not genuine. I did not know what or who he was talking about and this sudden social acceptance was confusing. I reverted to work. “Pink, can you put the security footage on all the monitors here? That way we can all see it.”

“Sure.” Within seven seconds all the monitors in the bus flickered to life with black and white images of the school interior. I walked to the third computer station and stared at the three monitors.

“Is this a live feed?” I asked.

“Yes, it is.”

“Hmm.”

“What is it, Doc?” Manny asked.

I didn’t answer him immediately, but continued watching the monitors. Each wide monitor was divided into six screens, showing different camera shots all over the school. I focussed on three. “This is not a live feed.”

“Sorry to disagree with you, goddess, but it is.”

“Look at cameras three, seven and ten,” I said. Spending my days in a viewing room looking for the smallest clues had made me unusually detail-oriented. “The shadows–”

“Oh my God, you’re right.” Pink moved closer to the monitors. “The sun is no longer shining, yet here you can see it streaming through the windows. This must have been recorded earlier and put on a loop.”

“We don’t have eyes inside,” Daniel said. “Except for Ian’s guys, we are blind.”

“Doc, you need to do something.” Manny got up and moved to us. I retreated, but he followed to look me in the eye. “Do some of your Mozart voodoo and tell us where Kubanov is and where he stashed that bomb.”

“I can only tell you where Kubanov is if I see him. Whether he wears a disguise or not, I’m sure that I’ll recognise him.”

“Our priority is finding out if there is a bomb, where it is and what it is,” Daniel said. “And we need to do it soon. I don’t want anyone inside that ballroom to even suspect that something is amiss.”

“My guys are busy covertly looking at the ventilation system, the food and as much else as they can,” Ian said. “The problem we face is time and subtlety. In order to not spook this Kubanov, we can’t storm around. That means that we could really do with some ideas, Doctor Lenard. These guys tell me that this is not your first picnic with Kubanov. Maybe you can give us some insight into how he plans to deliver this.”

Again everyone turned to me. I was not comfortable being the centre of attention. The pressure and the confusing, yet interesting word choices kept me from catching the message my subconscious was trying to deliver.

“I need to get out of here,” I said as I walked to the door. “Space and time.”

I didn’t care if they agreed or not. If they wanted my help, they would have to accept my process.

I stepped into the overcast morning and pulled my scarf higher around my throat. I walked around the side of the building and stopped when I had a full view of the main entrance. It looked like most of these exclusive academic institutions. A sweeping rounded staircase led up to heavy wooden doors which were closed. The seven-story building had not been built in this or the last century. My knowledge of architecture was far too limited to guess its age and design.

I heard footsteps on the paving behind me. It wasn’t the controlled footfalls of law enforcement men, but rather movement which would have been almost inaudible if other shoes had been worn. A thief’s walk.

“I’m here,” Colin said softly.

“I know.” I didn’t look at him when he stopped next to me. We stood in silence for a few minutes, my mind not reaching that elusive bit of information. I knew that the men in the bus were not idly waiting around for me. Most likely they were working all possible angles in desperate pursuit of ending this. They had the training and tactical knowledge how to handle situations like this. I was sure there were numerous operational manuals they had had to study on this subject. I had limited knowledge and no experience.

In all honesty I could not imagine the pressures of their lives. At this very moment I felt the oppressive weight of responsibility pushing down on me. These men were tasked every day with life-and-death decisions made under unimaginable stress and time constraints. I had been asked to help stop a potential bomb and was hard pushed to not succumb to the desire to return to my safe viewing room or home. Yet I would not. I knew in a small way I could help. If nothing else, I had to open my mind to that clue.

I inhaled the cold air and closed my eyes. Irrationally hoping that only a few moments of Mozart would give me answers, I gave myself over to the power of his
Symphony No. 5, one of his childhood symphonies. It could not have been five minutes later when I opened my eyes wide and looked at Colin. I waved the crumpled pamphlet at him. “It’s in here.”

“What is?”

I stared blankly at him for a second, then ran to the bus. Soft footsteps followed me. The door to the bus opened before I reached it. Charles held the door and I rushed inside. On one of the monitors was the view from a security camera mounted on the bus’ roof and aimed at the spot I had been standing. They had been watching me.

“Doc?” Manny’s posture communicated readiness to act.

“Look at the breakfast programme.” I unfolded the badly crumpled glossy paper. “They should be eating breakfast now. In half an hour there will be a speech by the president, followed by a final performance of all the children.”

“Yes?” Daniel said, looking at the pamphlet.

“Look at the picture at the back. It must have been taken during their dress rehearsal. All the performances are by individual students. It is the final performance that includes everyone, like on this photo.”

“Oh God, of course.” Ian took two steps to the conference table and ordered two of his men to the stage.

“What is it, Doctor Lenard?” Charles was the only one who did not have a shocked or relieved expression on his face.

“Look at the smoke on stage. A smoke machine would be the perfect delivery method to get a pathogen out there. Not only would it be strongest around the president’s son, but it would be all the children. Whichever adults are exposed to the spores would be an additional reward.”

The next ten minutes were sensory overload for me. The interior of the bus vibrated with battle-ready alpha-male body language. All of them were barking orders into phones, two-way radios and microphones. Silence settled inside the bus, everyone waiting for feedback from the people they had been communicating with. Daniel was the first to receive news from his earpiece. His body stilled and then shuddered.

“Secured,” he said to us. “They have the smoke machine.”

Another few minutes of silent communications and Ian sank into the closest chair. “Son of a bitch, that was too close.”

“Update?” Manny asked him.

“One of Daniel’s guys got a biosensor from the Hazmat team and took it in. The smoke machine doesn’t have any explosives in it, but the biosensor is reading a pathogen around the machine. They’ve secured the area and unplugged the machine. The Hazmat team is sending one of their guys in to secure the machine and take it in. After they tested the air backstage, one of my guys took the biosensor and discreetly tested the air inside the ballroom. So far we have an all-clear, but my guy is still moving around the ballroom. We’re trying to attract as little attention as possible.”

“Because we still have a Russian to catch,” Pink said. “I can’t get these cameras to work, boss. We don’t have eyes inside.”

“Well.” Daniel drew out the word. People did that to give their brains time to come up with an answer or solution. “After the final performance we will make an announcement. We’ll use the usual gas leak excuse, and say that it’s not an emergency, only a security concern. That is why we could hold off a full evacuation, but we need them all to leave the building.”

“What if Kubanov has a plan B?” Colin asked. Angry looks were aimed at him so fast, he lifted both hands. “Just asking. I might have had a back-up plan.”

“What do you think, Doc?” Manny asked.

I shook my head and lifted both shoulders. “I don’t know. He’s arrogant enough to believe that only one plan was needed, that nothing or no one would foil his plan. But on this I refuse to speculate. Too many lives are involved.”

The men discussed this for a few minutes. They were in full agreement.

“We need to get everyone out as soon as possible,” Ian said. “We’ll take the risk.”

Charles unfolded his arms. “We’ll secure all the exits, getting everyone to leave through the front doors. It might cause a bit of a bottle neck sending them out one by one, but that way we can control everyone leaving.”

“We can station Doctor Lenard at the bottom of the stairs to check everyone coming out. Hopefully we’ll flush out Kubanov.” Daniel looked at me. “You sure you’ll recognise him?”

“No. I can never guarantee a sure result of anything. It is simply impossible. I am, however, confident that I will be able to recognise his body type and involuntary nonverbal behaviour.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Ian stood. “Let’s move out.”

“Doc, you’re with me,” Charles said and waited for me and Colin to follow him out of the bus. Pink was the only person to stay behind. Charles led us to the main entrance. “I’ll set you up in the safest place you can imagine.”

Chapter TWENTY-SIX

“
This is not
the safest place I could imagine.” I stood stiffly at the bottom of the wide staircase. The wooden front doors looked even larger than they did from my earlier viewpoint.

“They’ve already won the argument, Jenny.” Colin’s voice had a smile in it. It annoyed me even more.

“I have three snipers aiming their rifles at me, Colin. How is that safe?” I turned to him, my lips tight and my eyes accusing. “Tell me.”

“I’m only going to tell you the same as Manny and Charles told you.” He stopped trying to hide his smile. “Those guys are looking out for you. They have the best vantage points. Two behind us and one in front? I’d say they have us covered.”

“With weapons.” I knew my words came out clipped and strong, but I had never liked weapons. After my first experience with Kubanov, I liked them even less.

“You remember the signal, Jenny?”

“Of course I do. I’m not dull.” I turned from him in disgust. Charles had insisted I practice it seven times. How difficult was it to lift one’s right fist into the air?

As much as I had wanted to, I didn’t take offence. These men were more than the average police officer. Without anyone revealing my autistic tendencies, Daniel and Ian had noticed that I was non-neurotypical. They had not once treated me with less respect or courtesy, but had adjusted their approach to make it easier for me. My respect had been growing for them by the minute.

While Daniel and Ian’s teams had been getting ready to herd all the children and their parents out of the front door, Charles had explained the strategy of the three snipers to me. Logically it had sounded good. It did not feel good.

Firstly, they were there to keep me safe. They also had direct communication with Ian and Daniel and would get the word to them the moment I recognised Kubanov. I wouldn’t have to speak or interact or even point. I merely had to lift my fist.

They would immediately stop anyone else from exiting. Other officers posted on a perimeter around me would move in and apprehend whoever had exited before I lifted my fist. In theory it sounded like a simple and easily executable plan. Lifting my fist was an insult to my skill-set, but I had doubts.

My doubts became of lesser importance as the front doors opened and Manny came rushing down the stairs. He looked harassed. More than usual.

“Doc, we’re running into some trouble inside.”

“What kind of trouble?” My hands felt very cold as adrenaline forced blood away from non-essential body parts.

“There are too many exits. We don’t have enough people to cover those, and help evacuating the people. Daniel’s guys are covering the exits and Ian’s people are stretched really thin.”

“You can’t possibly expect of me t
o help you with the people?” Had he lost all his ability to consider the implications of such a request?

“Not you.” Manny sighed. I blinked a few times at the combination of desperation and disgust on his face. “I need Frey to help us contain these folks. Will you be okay out here?”

Colin moved to say something, but stopped when I looked at him with censure. “I have three men with sniper rifles supposedly protecting me. I dare say I’m safe out here.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Manny’s
levator labii superioris
muscles curled his top lip. “Come on, Frey. Time to be your entitled, charming self.”

Colin touched my arm. “Are you completely sure you will be okay?”

“Go, I’ll be fine.” I pulled my arm closer to my body.

“You’ll remember the signal?” He nodded at my scowl. “Okay. You need anything, you shout for me, okay?”

“Go, Colin.”

He and Manny ran up the stairs and disappeared into the building. Again I was staring at the closed doors with three high-powered killing instruments aimed at me. I shuddered.

Fortunately I didn’t have any more time to think about that. One of the heavy wooden doors swung open and a GIPN team member stepped out. He tilted his head as he communicated into his headset. He straightened as the first person left the building.

One by one people came through the door. Men, women and children. The adults were all dressed befitting their stature. The children who were not in school uniform were in clothes that could have been costumes or trendy, youthful outfits. There appeared to be a system. First the woman would be sent out, followed by her child or children, the father being last to join them. Men and women dressed in black suits urged them to their cars. I had come to the conclusion that all the black-suited men and women were from Ian’s team.

The majority of the adults leaving the building were exhibiting nonverbal cues of great agitation. They did not appreciate being in a position of lesser power, forced to follow orders. A few were exceptions and showed genuine cooperation and care within their family core. Not one of them was Kubanov.

One of Daniel’s team members joined me. A brief sideways glance at his protective gear identified him as GIPN. There was no need for conversation and I returned to scanning each individual coming through the doors.

Recognition slammed into my consciousness with lightning speed.

There was no warning, no blackness threatening my peripheral view, no tightness in my chest. This was completely different than usual. I was fully cognisant of my environment, of every new person leaving the building, but my body was frozen. Books and the internet taught lay people only two responses to danger. Fight or flight. Very few ever mentioned the freeze response. This particular reaction in the face of danger happened more often than anyone acknowledged, but it was the first time it happened to me.

My muscles were completely unresponsive to my brain’s desperate orders to obey. Practicing seven times was not going to help me now to lift my fist. Not even with Kubanov standing right next to me.

“You know it’s me standing here, don’t you, Genevieve?”

I hated feeling so powerless. I hated that I couldn’t speak. I hated above all that he pronounced my name in the French way.

“I suppose this drama playing out in front of us now is for my benefit. How sweet. Everybody looking for me with such vigour.”

I couldn’t even move my head to look at him. It left me at an even greater disadvantage. I couldn’t read his nonverbal cues. I couldn’t tell if he was being playful in a sick psychopath manner or whether he was leading up to action. Did he have another bomb in the building that he planned to detonate with me watching here? I wanted to scream, but most I managed was an increased blinking rate.

“You have proven yourself to be much more than simply a worthy adversary, Genevieve.” The genuine respect I heard in his voice grated my every value and belief. I did not want the respect and admiration of a man like Kubanov. “I underestimated you. But here’s the thing. I don’t often repeat little mistakes like this. You have revealed so much about yourself in the last week, Genevieve. I feel like I truly know you now.”

The coward in me wished for an episode. Unaware of my surroundings, I would not have had to listen to his threat issued so conversationally. I was terrified to think of the ways that Kubanov now thought he knew me. Was this knowledge of me going to put those around me in danger? I knew Manny, Colin, Vinnie and Francine had skills and contacts to protect themselves. But what about Phillip? The man I had come to view as a mentor in all thing social?

“Don’t worry.” Kubanov sounded genuinely consoling. “Your cleverness today has completely foiled my plans. All these good people are safe from me. For today. Since those irritating Men in Black wannabes unplugged the fog machine, there is no other threat.” He laughed softly. “Well, except maybe for the ladies running too fast in their high heels. Those things can be deadly.”

Only part of my brain was now listening to him. He boasted about how he had planned this for months. How easy it had been to get Professor Tremont’s cooperation. There was malicious pleasure in his voice when he told me how he had enjoyed the shock on Manny’s face when he had detonated that bomb. He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know or suspect, so I gave his bragging less attention. I poured most of my energy into the other part of my brain sending messages to my muscles. There was a complete communication breakdown. I couldn’t even feel the cold in my hands I knew for certain was there. None of my muscles reacted.

“Are you having one of your famed episodes, Genevieve? Do you even know that I’m here? It’s a pity, really. I wanted to ask you if you liked the Beata Beatrix that I had especially painted for you. Personally, I thought it was a masterpiece. And the flowers. Did you like them? Oh well, I’m having a wonderful chat with you, so I suppose it doesn’t really matter if you can hear me or not.”

Another two families left the building as we stood in companionable silence. Not only was I fully aware of Kubanov next to me, I also imagined feeling the crosshairs of the three sniper rifles on my chest and back. Again I begged my right hand to form a fist and lift. Nothing happened.

“Actually, I hope that you can hear me. I want you to know that you might have won this time, but the next time you won’t be this lucky. I’m a little strange like this, you know, Genevieve. Once I set a goal, nothing can deter me from achieving it.

“In your case, it would be to eliminate a target. You think you are so smart, but you lack a few things, Genevieve. Like ruthlessness and especially the ability to kill without remorse. Yes, you are not strong like that.” He snorted. “Well, looking at you now, you are quite the weak little human, aren’t you? Standing here all blacked out and useless to everyone. See that beautiful girl running to her mom? Yeah, I could kill her right now and you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

Tears of frustration formed in my eyes and I blinked them away. If I could not get my body to respond, I would use my brain. And my brain was telling me that it was a wise strategy to let Kubanov think that I was not aware of his presence at all. Tears running down my face would take away the security he felt in taunting me.

“No, I’m not going to kill anyone today. Pity though. It would have been a stupendously remarkable day for me. Right now there are simply too many cops around. And of course the three snipers watching us right now. They are not even half as smart as you, Genevieve. You would have figured out by now that I was not a real cop. They’re just too easy to outwit.”

His voice lost its easy friendliness. “This is not over, Genevieve. You destroyed my reputation by taking away my forgeries. Today you have taken away my revenge on the man who killed my brother. A plan that has taken me almost a year to form to perfection. When you entered my life six months ago, I generously decided to include you into this plan. I was going to let you live through the embarrassment of having your reputation blown to bits. Pardon the pun. But I have changed my mind. I have something much stronger in mind for you now. Believe me when I say that you will suffer for this. I will get you, my dear Genevieve. Not today, not tomorrow, but soon.”

I heard him walk away. The inability to do something, anything was possibly one of the worst experiences I had ever had. Another three families exited the building one by one before I could feel my fingers move. I inhaled deeply, closed my eyes and tried to lift my right fist. My fingers barely curled into a fist and my hand was shaking with the effort. With the same suddenness I had frozen, my muscles responded to my brain’s messages. My fist shot up in the air.

I was gulping in air, my fist still raised. Uniformed and black-suited men and women rushed around me towards the door to intercept the man who had just stepped outside. Other members of Ian and Daniel’s teams were halting the two families who had not yet reached their cars. Manny and Colin was running to me at the same time as two uniformed men.

“Don’t approach her!” Colin shouted as he picked up speed. His British accent was gone. “Don’t touch her!”

The two uniformed men slowed down and stopped a few metres from me, staring at me curiously. Colin reached me a few seconds before Manny. He covered my icy fist with his warm hand and tried to lower my fist.

“Jenny? Hey, I’m here. Let go, love.” He pulled harder on my fist until my arm went stiffly down. He didn’t let go of my hand, slowly opening my fingers one by one. He held my hand between both his, rubbing heat into it.

“What happened, Doc? Where is he?” Manny glanced at me, but quickly returned to scanning the grounds. “Where did you see him?”

“He was here.” It sounded like I had been running, not them. I was winded. “He was standing right next to me.”

“What the hell?” Manny turned his full attention on me. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. He’s gone.”

Manny’s lips tightened. He inhaled to speak and I knew it was going to be sarcasm.

“Millard, wait.” Colin took my other hand, put both between his hands and continued rubbing them. He lowered his head a bit to be closer to my height. “Jenny, what happened?”

Angry tears filled my eyes. “I froze, Colin. I could hear everything he said, but I couldn’t even move my head. He taunted me and spoke for such a long time. Then he walked away. I don’t know where he went. All I know is that I heard him walk towards the parking area. He was wearing a GIPN uniform, so he could be anywhere.”