Red Alert (28 page)

'What is it?' Whitlock asked eagerly.

'Were you told about Nino Ferzetti?'

'The maintenance worker Ubrino impersonated to ge into the building?'

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ic same. Well, Commissioner Kuhlmann had the al police go round to Ferzetti's flat to see if he was all He was still out cold when they got there. They aged to bring him round and he told them he was dng with a Vito Cellina last night. He also works in maintenance department. I called Jacques in Zurich had him run a check on Cellina. He's clean but it is out his stepsister, Louisa, had been involved with i Red Brigades before her death from a drugs overdose : year.'

'So Cellina could be Calvieri's contact inside the build5?' ?'He could be, but I still have my suspicions. It's all too nvenient. It's as if Calvieri wanted us to find out about ellina. Why else would Ubrino have mentioned Ferzetti? auld be wrong, of course. That's why I want the two I you to get on to it right away.' 'Do you know where he is at the moment?' I 'In the basement. That's where the maintenance depart nt is housed.' 'We're on our way, sir.'

The lift only went as far as the foyer, but there were stairs ading down to the basement to the right of the reception sk. They ignored the sign on the door, staff only, and ended the stairs to a tiled corridor. To their right was a ring door leading into the workshop. To their left was a am-coloured door with the words erhaltung man iger stencilled on it in black. The maintenance manager's Bee. Paluzzi rapped loudly on the door. 'Herein,' a voice called out.

They entered the room. The man behind the desk was eavyset, his face remarkable only for its surly expression I black-framed glasses. The name tag on his grey overall entitled him as Hans Kessler. Paluzzi told Kessler in

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German that he was a security adviser and asked hii where they could find Cellina.

'What's this all about?' Kessler demanded in Ger getting to his feet and removing his glasses. 'Vito's a go worker --'

'We don't want a reference,' Paluzzi cut in, 'we wa to talk to him. Are you going to take us to him or do have to call Dieter Vlok and tell him that his maintenar manager is refusing to cooperate with the authorities i a matter of national security?'

Kessler scowled but did as he was told, leading the into the workshop where he identified Cellina as the i standing with his back to them on the other side of room.

'We'll take it from here,' Paluzzi said to Kessler. 'Than you for your help.'

Kessler looked from Paluzzi to Whitlock, then turne and left the room, muttering under his breath. The other five maintenance men in the workshop were watchir them. Only Cellina seemed oblivious to their presence, was not until Paluzzi approached Cellina that he notic the blowtorch in his hand. He was welding. Pah stopped a few feet away from Cellina, out of range of th blowtorch, and called out to him. At first he thoug Cellina hadn't heard him but a moment later he switche off the power and looked around.

'Are you Vito Cellina?' Paluzzi asked in Italian.

Cellina pushed the visor away from his face. He was; gangling man in his thirties with collar-length brown hail and a sallow complexion. 'Yes. Who are you?'

'Security. I'd like to talk to you about a friend of yours^ Nino Ferzetti.'

'He's not here,' Cellina said, glancing nervously about him. 'He didn't come in to work this morning.'

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bat's because you spiked his drinks last night.' d't know what you're talking about,' Cellina stam

ripped the visor from Cellina's face then ed him by the front of his overall and slammed against the workbench. 'I'm in no mood to play with you. I want some answers and I want them r!'

ae of Cellina's colleagues picked up a screwdriver, rwhen he tried to approach Paluzzi he found his path by Whitlock, who had unfastened his jacket to the bolstered Browning. The man took a hesitant backwards, then tossed the screwdriver on to the rkbench. Whitlock ushered the men from the workshop hovered menacingly at the door to dissuade any of

from returning. 'Now it's just you and me,' Paluzzi hissed, tightening igrip on Cellina's lapels. 'Where's the vial Calvieri gave ťyou this morning?'

? Cellina made a desperate grab for the blowtorch. He laged to curl his fingers around the handle before iluzzi brought the butt of his Beretta down savagely on : back of his hand. Cellina cried out in pain and jerked fingers away from the blowtorch, which clattered on nhe floor. Paluzzi twisted Cellina's arm behind his back I frogmarched him to the bandsaw in the middle of the am. He switched it on, then forced Cellina's face on to cold metal workbench. Cellina struggled in vain to ak Paluzzi's hold as his face was pushed ever closer rards the serrated blade.

Til tell you where it is,' Cellina screamed, his eyes wide irith fear. 'Please, no more. I'll tell you.'

'I'm listening,' Paluzzi replied, still pushing Cellina's ace towards the blade.

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'It's under my workbench,' Cellina shouted breat lessly.

Cellina's face was within inches of the blade whe Paluzzi reached down and switched off the machine^ Cellina crumpled to the floor, shaking, his face buried it his hands.

Paluzzi hauled him to his feet and shoved him toward the workbench. 'Show me,' he snarled, then unholstere his Beretta and pressed it into Cellina's back. 'And do ; slowly.'

Cellina crouched down and pointed a trembling finger at the metal cylinder attached to the underside of workbench with masking tape.

'Did he say what was in it?' Paluzzi demanded.

Cellina shook his head. 'He just told me to keep it hŤ in the workshop. Out of sight. That's why I taped it beneath my workbench.'

Whitlock crossed to where they were crouched and peered at the metal cylinder. 'It certainly looks intact.'

Cellina frowned at Whitlock. He spoke no English.] Whitlock eased himself into a position where he could study the cylinder more carefully. It wasn't booby trapped.| He peeled off the masking tape, then stood up and checked the serial number: $114785. The same number as on the cylinder stolen from Neo-Chem Industries.

'I'll call the Colonel,' Whitlock said, walking to the| wallphone beside the swing door.

'Did Calvieri say why he wanted you to keep it here?'| Paluzzi asked Cellina.

'All he said was that someone would contact me this afternoon and I was to give it to them.'

'Who?'

'I don't know. He said they would identify themselves j with a password.'

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i'What was in it for you?'

Cellina sagged against the workbench and ran his figers through his hair. 'My stepsister was a Brigatista in ilan. She died last year frorrt a drug overdose. Calvieri breatened to tell my mother about Louisa. She knew auisa died from drugs but she didn't know anything

aut her ties with the Red Brigades. She suffered a heart

ick within days of Louisa's death. It nearly finished her Another shock like that would surely kill her. I >uldn't risk it. You must understand that.'

'And how's she going to react to your arrest? Have you

jught about that?'

Cellina buried his face in his hands again.

Paluzzi crossed to where Whitlock was standing by the ring door. 'What did the Colonel say?'

'He wants me to take the cylinder up to the office traight away. It'll have to be sent for analysis. He's rranging for a security guard to take Cellina off our bands but he wants you to wait here until the guard rrives.'

'Sure,' Paluzzi said, then noticed Whitlock's question ng look towards Cellina. 'I'll tell you about it later.'

Whitlock nodded and reached for the swing door. He addenly turned back to Paluzzi. 'What would you have yne if he'd called your bluff?'

'He didn't, did he?' Paluzzi replied, glancing at the Ibandsaw.

'But what if he had?'

'It could have got a bit messy,' Paluzzi said with an ^indifferent shrug.

'You would have carved up his face?' Whitlock asked fin disbelief.

'What use is a threat unless you're prepared to back it

fup?'

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'Now I see what the Colonel meant,' Whitlock mut tered.

'About what?'

'You and Mike being a bad influence on each other,* Whitlock replied, then disappeared out into the corridorj

'I'm not convinced,' Philpott said, turning the cylinder! around in his fingers. 'I still say it's a red herring. That'sj why I don't intend to tell the others until it's been analysed.! If they think there's a chance that it's the real vial it could 1 lull them into a false sense of complacency. And that-] would jeopardize the search.'

'Your confidence in them is touching, sir,' Whitlock; said, fighting the anger in his voice.

'I have every confidence in them,' Philpott replied sharply. 'I know they wouldn't let it affect them consciously. But the subconscious plays tricks on us all with out us even realizing it.'

The door opened and Kolchinsky entered breathlessly. 'I came as soon as I could. But why the secrecy?'

'Because I'm not convinced this cylinder contains the virus,' Philpott replied, placing it on the table. 'You didn't mention anything to Visconti, did you?'

'I did as you said and told him you needed me back here to help you co-ordinate the search.'

'Good. I've arranged for Ingrid Hauser to join him when she's finished checking her areas.'

Kolchinsky picked up the cylinder. 'The serial number's the same. What makes you think it's a dummy?'

'We found it too easily. Calvieri's planned this operation down to the last detail. I find it inconceivable that he would slip up at this late stage.' Philpott relit his pipe. 'But this is all speculation. We can't possibly know until

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c contents have been analysed. One of our helicopters is siting for you on the helipad. The lab technicians in arich have been put on immediate standby.' : 'I hope you're wrong about this, Malcolm,' Kolchinsky aid, holding up the cylinder.

'So do I,' Philpott replied.

Kolchinsky slipped the cylinder into his pocket and left.

IjBachstrasse was a gloomy, deserted cul-de-sac off the

pjtoquai, a wharf on the banks of Lake Zurich. The

JVoad was strewn with bricks and masonry. The buildings

'themselves had been derelict for years. A hoarding at the

'entrance to the cul-de-sac warned: falling masonry.

cars parked at owners' risk. A second hoarding was

more ominous: unsafe structures. dangerous. keep

out!

UNACO owned Bachstrasse. They had erected the hoardings. They had strewn the bricks and masonry on the road to give the impression that the buildings were unsafe. Privacy was essential. Their European Test Centre, housed in a network of soundproofed catacombs, ran the length of the street. The only way into the Test Centre was through the warehouse at the end of the cul-de-sac. It was a rectangular building and, like the other buildings in the street, its windows had long since been vandalized. The battered, corrugated-iron door could be activated electronically from inside the Test Centre, provided the correct password was given. The password itself was changed every day. The roof, like the door, could be opened from inside the Test Centre but, for security reasons, it was only used in emergencies.

The helicopter descended into the deserted warehouse

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and when it landed on the concrete floor the roof slidf back into place. The pilot cut the engine. A circular section*! of the floor, fifty feet in diameter, which supported the| helicopter, was lowered by means of a hydraulic press and I locked into place beside a landing stage. The two halves | of the floor closed above the helicopter.

Kolchinsky unfastened his safety belt and picked upl the small, insulated lead case at his feet. It contained the \ metal cylinder. He clambered out of the helicopter andl made his way down a set of metal stairs to where a| white-coated technician was waiting to take the case from j him.

'Monsieur Rust is waiting in his office for you,' the! technician said politely, then strode with barely contained! impatience down one of the corridors leading from the| landing stage.

Kolchinsky headed down another corridor and paused ] outside a door marked: J. rust-directeur. He knocked. An overhead camera panned his face and a moment later.j there was an electronic click as the door was unlocked.: Kolchinsky entered the plush office and the door closed^ behind him. Rust activated his wheelchair and approachedi Kolchinsky. They shook hands.

'I think you know Professor Helmut Scheffer, head of! our science department,' Rust said, indicating the black- < haired man sitting on the sofa against the wall.

'Of course,' Kolchinsky replied. 'How are you, Helmut?'

'Well, thank you,' Scheffer said, getting to his feet to shake Kolchinsky's hand.

'Emile made good time,' Rust said, glancing at hisj watch. 1.40 p.m. 'It can't have taken him much more than' twenty minutes to fly you here from Berne.'

'About that,' Kolchinsky agreed, then sat down in the

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ather armchair in front of Rust's desk. He looked at beffer. 'How long will it take for your people to analyse lie contents of the vial?'

'Had it been a glass cylinder, a matter of seconds. We wild have used either infrared spectroscopy or nuclear agnetic resonance. But not with metal. It will have to be at open inside an isolation chamber.' 'Like a glove box?' Kolchinsky asked. 'Glove boxes have been known to leak. This chamber's idowless. The whole operation will be carried out by cans of closed-circuit television cameras using mechan al hands which are operated from outside the chamber, ace the cylinder has been opened a sample can be isferred to a glass vial for analysis. The results will bow up as a series of oscillations on a graph which we i use to identify the different components that make up lie substance.'

'But how long will it take?' Kolchinsky repeated. 'How long?' Scheffer pouted thoughtfully. 'Anything |up to two hours.'

'Two hours?' Kolchinsky parroted in disbelief. 'The jway you described it, it sounded more like twenty min?utes.' 'I only outlined the process for you,' Scheffer said ^defensively. 'I'd be glad to explain it in more detail if you ^want.'

'It wouldn't mean anything to me if you did,' Kolchin ; sky replied with a quick smile. 'Science was never my !;strong point.'

Scheffer moved to the door. 'They will be waiting for me in the lab. I'll let you know the moment we've identified the substance in the cylinder.'

Rust activated the door, then closed it again behind Scheffer.

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'Two hours!' Kolchinsky exclaimed, getting to his feet.} 'I never thought it would take that long.'

'Neither did I.' Rust indicated the armchair in front of | his desk. 'Sit down, I'll order us some tea.'

'I can't sit around here for the next two hours. I've got to j get back to the Offenbach Centre. There's still so much to \ do, especially if the cylinder does turn out to be a dummy. ] You can call Malcolm when the results come through.'

'I'll get hold of Emile for you,' Rust said, reaching for] the telephone.

'Two hours?' Philpott said afterKolchinsky had finished! briefing him. He took a sip of tea then sat back in his| chair. 'Not that it matters. We have to keep searching.'

'Where's Visconti?' Kolchinsky asked, picking up his*] Beretta from the desk.

'Sit down,' Philpott said, indicating a chair. 'Have some i tea and calm down. You're like a hyperactive child at the I moment.'

There isn't time -- '

'Sergei,' Philpott cut in, pointing to the chair.

Kolchinsky slipped the Beretta into his shoulder holster \ and reluctantly sat down.

Philpott poured him a cup of tea. 'Ingrid Hauser's; working with Visconti now. I'd rather use you as ani auxiliary. That way you can help out if one of the teams falls behind schedule. It will save us having to pull out one of the other teams to help them.'

Kolchinsky nodded and lit a cigarette.

The telephone rang.

Philpott answered it. He listened in silence. 'Thanks for \ letting me know,' he said at length, and replaced the receiver.

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'What is it, Malcolm?' Kolchinsky asked anxiously,

ticing the concern on Philpott's face.

'That was Vlok. He has just received a bomb threat.'

jraham and Marco knew their recall had nothing to do |with the vial, that much Philpott had told them on the Itelephone. Apart from that they were just as much in fine dark as the other three teams who were already in the |office when they got there.

'What's this all about, sir?' Graham asked. 'There's been a bomb threat,' Philpott replied. 'Dieter I Vlok took the call. The caller claimed to have planted a Ibomb somewhere close to the building. It's due to go off j at three o'clock.'

'That's in thirty-eight minutes time,' Marco said, look\ ing at his watch.

'Have you told Calvieri?' Whitlock asked. 'I haven't told anybody outside this room. Vlok's the only other person who knows about it. And I've sworn him to secrecy. I haven't even told Commissioner Kuhlmann, and I don't intend to. Strictly speaking, the bomb threat falls under his jurisdiction but knowing him, he'll want to evacuate the building as quickly as possible. And that could make Calvieri panic, especially as he specifically warned us against staging a bomb scare.'

'Where is Kuhlmann ?' Whitlock asked. 'Interrogating Cellina,' Philpott replied. 'You're going to have to postpone the search for the vial. At least for the time being. We have to find that bomb.' 'If there is a bomb,' Graham said. 'I'm not taking any chances, Mike.' Philpott shook his liead in desperation. 'If there is a bomb, and it goes off, and

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it comes out later that we received a warning beforeha there's going to be hell to pay. Heads will roll. Startir with mine.'

'You're going to have to try to reason with Calvieri,| Paluzzi said to Philpott.

'I intend to. I'm sure he won't let us evacuate building but he might be able to find out if there is bomb. And if so, where it's hidden.' 'Leaving us to defuse it?'

'Of course I'd rather bring in the bomb squad, Mike but their first priority would be to evacuate the building. 1 And that would give Calvieri itchy fingers.' Philpott| gestured to Kolchinsky. 'Sergei's worked out the ar for each team to cover. I want you to get on to it rig away.'

'We're just clutching at straws, sir,' Graham said. 'What | chance have we got of finding it?'

'Have you got a better plan, Michael?' Kolchinsky; snapped angrily, opening the door leading into the outer office. 'Let's go. The Colonel will bleep us if he gets any positive feedback from Calvieri.'

Philpott waited until they had left then dialled the extension number Calvieri had given him.

Calvieri was watching an interview with the French Prime Minister when the telephone rang. He crossed to the side table and answered it. Philpott told him about the bomb threat.

'The Greek ELA?' Calvieri said.

'That's who the caller claimed to be representing,' Philpott replied. 'We have to evacuate the building. If the bomb --'

'No,' Calvieri cut in angrily. 'I've told you already, I'll

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the button if any attempt is made to evacuate the ding.'

iPhilpott exhaled deeply, struggling to control his term r. 'I'm not going to argue with you, Calvieri. There isn't e. If you're not prepared to have the building evacuated i at least find out whether there is a bomb or whether i just a hoax. You've got the contacts. I don't need to nind you that it's just as much in your interest as it is | ours to get it defused in time.' ^Tll look into it.' 'It's already two twenty-five -- ' 'I said I'll look into it!' Calvieri replaced the receiver,

i spun round and punched the wall furiously. 'What is it?' Ubrino asked anxiously. 'Get Bettinga on the line,' Calvieri said softly. 'Why, what ' 'Just do it!" Calvieri yelled.

Ubrino nodded hesitantly, then picked up the receiver nd dialled a number in Rome to find out where he could |contact Bettinga.

Calvieri looked down at his hand. The skin around the f knuckles was torn and the blood trickfed down between this fingers. He noticed Sabrina watching him carefully. He sat down opposite her. 'You think I've finally snapped, don't you?'

'No, but I think you're pretty pissed off about some thing,' she replied, holding his stare.

'You could say that.' Calvieri winced when he tried to flex his fingers. 'This is going to hurt like hell in the morning.'

'I assume from what you said on the phone that there's been a bomb scare.'

'You're very perceptive,' Calvieri replied, then looked across at Ubrino. 'Well?'

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'They are trying to find out where Signore Bettinga is at the moment,' Ubrina said, his hand over the mouthpiece.

'Who are you talking to?'

'Larusso, one of the cell commanders in Rome.'

'I know who he is! Ask him if he's got the number of the ELA headquarters in Athens. That's all I want to know.' Calvieri turned back to Sabrina. 'Yes, there's been a bomb threat. Are you familiar with the ELA?'

She shook her head.

'It stands for Espanastatikos Laikos Agonas which,; roughly translated, means the People's Revolutionary j Struggle. Radical fundamentalists, nothing more.' Calvieri; took the transmitter from his pocket and turned it around in his hand. 'I've spent months planning, and perfecting, this operation. And now the ELA are threatening toj ruin it all. If the bomb were to go off the whole complex would be evacuated. The perfect opportunity for a; search.'

'It sounds like a case of the biter bit. If, of course, there | is a bomb.'

'There's a bomb, I'm sure of that. You'll find - '

'I've got the number,' Ubrino called out.

'Call it and ask for Andreas Kozanakis head of the! ELA.' Calvieri turned back to Sabrina. 'As I was saying,| you'll find that anonymous bomb threats are invariably ! hoaxes. But if an organization gives its name, that means \ they're after publicity. And who's going to take themj seriously if they're not prepared to back up those;] threats?'

'The voice of the expert,' Sabrina said with disdain.

Calvieri stood up, pocketed the transmitter, and crossedj to where Ubrino was standing. 'Any luck?' 'It's ringing,' Ubrino replied.

The receiver was lifted at the other end of the line.

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'Tony,' Ubrino said, extending the receiver towards pCalvieri.

'Hello, who's speaking?' Calvieri asked in Greek. 'Andreas Kozanakis. Who is that?' Tony Calvieri, Red Brigades.' 'It's an honour - '

'Shove your honour,' Calvieri said tersely. 'I want to tknow if the ELA have planted an explosive device at the tOffenbach Centre due to go off at three o'clock. Yes or Ino.'

There was silence. 'Answer me!' Calvieri snapped.

'I am not at liberty to discuss that with you,' Kozanakis plied.

'How's Alexis?' Calvieri asked, his voice calm. 'What?' Kozanakis replied, the question catching him off guard.

'Alexis, your daughter. How old is she now? Seventeen? iighteen? It's her first year at Rome University, isn't it? I elieve Lino Zocchi promised to keep an eye on her for Jrou. Pity he's in jail. I'd hate something to happen to her. ic's got her whole life ahead of her.'

'Leave Alexis out of this,' Kozanakis said, a note of flxiety creeping into his voice. 'Then tell me about the explosive device.' Kozanakis exhaled deeply. There was a pause. 'Semtex. [wenty pounds.'

'Nasty,' Calvieri said. 'Where is it?' 'I don't know. One of my aides installed it.' Calvieri looked at his watch: z.33. 'You've got exactly reive minutes to find out where the Semtex has been hidden. If I haven't heard from you by two forty-five then I'll call Rome and have a couple of my Brigatisti visit Uexis at her residence. I'm sure she'll amuse them.'