The Moses Virus (24 page)

“One additional thing,” Gerard said to the commander. “As you approach the castle, keep your eyes open for a maroon Opel. That’s the stolen vehicle that Bailitz’s men used to transport the virus from Switzerland. We’ll be able to confirm that the German couriers with the virus actually arrived.”

“Let’s get going,” Kramer stated.

Tom nodded and said, “I’ll call Crystal Close.”

Kramer said. “Yes, call her. But you should know I’m not depending on her. I’ve had our men combing over the castle’s building plans. We know where the incoming master power lines are. We’ll cut the electrical power about the moment we arrive at the castle. We believe that there’s emergency backup power, which will start immediately, but not be sufficient to power the major surveillance systems. We’re also certain that there are emergency generators which will fire up, but there will be a ten- to twelve-minute window during which you can move through the secret corridor unseen.”

Tom said nothing but smiled to himself. He suspected Crystal Close capable of changing allegiances at will. A failsafe option where they would not be relying solely on Crystal’s promises appealed to him.

Everyone returned to their cars. Almost immediately one of the GSG-9 commander’s men came over to Gerard’s car. He stood at attention and introduced himself as Diethelm Hoener. Then Hoener burst into a smile and got in the car.

The three cars moved out toward Kronberg Castle’s front gates. Getting by the guards—who recognized that these were federal cars—was easy. Bailitz’s guards called their contact at the castle and said that the federal police demanded to speak with Bailitz. The three cars proceeded, winding around the golf course surrounding the castle. Tom’s car turned onto the back drive that swept around to the rear of the castle.

The two federal squad cars approached the formal entrance, which was a gigantic, imposing structure made of stone, lit by exterior spotlights. The cars drove through the entrance and went directly into the general parking area beyond. Otto Kramer left his car. The rest of his squad, four men, all in camouflage fatigues, with black paint on their faces, followed. On the way to the large oak front doors, Kramer spotted a maroon Opel parked near the entrance. The hood was still warm to the touch. He spoke into his microtransmitter. “Gerard, didn’t you say that a maroon Opel was the car that carried the virus? Well, it’s here.”

Gerard gave Kramer the numbers on the license plate for the stolen car. The GSG-9 commander confirmed these matched the numbers on the Opel’s plates in front of the castle. Then he moved into the reception area.

It was about 10:15 p.m., but there were still Belagri employees in the reception area, as if the company were expecting visitors.

There was an imperious-looking Belagri security official behind the large reception desk. “What can I do for you?” he inquired of Kramer, who presented himself at the desk. The tone of this question was unfriendly, signaling that he viewed the commander as an unwanted intruder. The GSG-9 commander, who was a good foot taller than the haughty Belagri employee, displayed no reaction.

“I’m here to see Dr. Bailitz.”

“Really?” came the reply. “On what subject? And at this hour?”

“I’m a commander of the GSG-9, here on orders of the federal police. My business is with Dr. Bailitz exclusively. Relay my message to him, now.” Kramer and his four men looked deadly serious. Still, the receptionist persisted.

“Let me see your identification,” he said.

The GSG-9 commander produced it.

The receptionist sighed, guessing that he was not going to get them to leave. He dialed a number on his telephone, then said, “Sir, there is a commander of the GSG-9 demanding to speak with you. He’s here with four troopers.”

After a moment’s delay, the receptionist said, “I’ve passed on your message. You’ll be responded to directly. Take a seat if you like.”

He nodded in the direction of a grouping of furniture in the reception area. Kramer moved to this area, but remained standing.

Precisely at this moment, lights in the castle flickered, then went off. The receptionist picked up the telephone, which continued to work, and called security. The commander could hear what the receptionist was saying.

The haughty receptionist complained loudly, “How am I supposed to do my job if you can’t keep the power on? Oh, the power’s out everywhere?”

Electrical lights for emergencies came on. The receptionist duly told security of this development. Then the receptionist whined, “You mean that the full emergency backup won’t be working for another ten minutes? You’ve got to be joking. This is outrageous.”

Kramer was pleased. He said quietly in his microtransmitter, “Power’s out here, with emergency backup in ten minutes.”

Gerard replied, “Power’s out here. Small, dim footlights in the corridor, but we can see. The cameras, however, are likely to be out. Thanks.”

From where he was, Kramer could see into the large, but now shadowy, ceremonial hall adjoining the reception area, and in the center of it he could also see the grand stairway.

Several minutes passed. The emergency power surged through the castle, and the lights came back on. Then, abruptly, at the top of the stairs, a most striking blond woman in a close-fitting red dress appeared. Otto Kramer was taken completely by surprise. The woman paused briefly, lit by a huge glass chandelier above her, then descended the grand stairway. She took each step effortlessly, looking down at those in the room, her eyes seeking the man in charge. She zeroed in on the GSG-9 commander, and as she reached the main floor she started walking toward him, holding out her hand to shake his, and presenting him with a warm, gracious smile.

Otto Kramer felt the radiant smile and the seductiveness of this beautiful woman as she approached him. He thought, this must be the woman Stewart referred to—Crystal Close. He returned a tight-lipped smile that displayed courtesy. A siren, he thought to himself.

“My name is Crystal Close,” she said as their hands touched. “I’m senior vice president of Belagri.” She continued smoothly. “Chairman Bailitz apologizes but is tied up with some important business matters and asked me to meet with you. What is the purpose of your visit?”

The GSG-9 commander said, “I’m here to secure a shipment of dangerous material contained in steel canisters. They were transported from Switzerland in a maroon Opel. I did notice that vehicle just before we entered the building.”

Crystal replied, “We have no canisters of any dangerous substance, and that Opel belongs to Dr. Bailitz’s secretary. It has been hers for ten years, and she has been here all day—she arrived early this morning as she always does and has yet to leave. Aren’t Opels one of the most common cars in Germany?”

“The Opel in front of the castle, with its hood still warm from a long drive, has a Swiss license plate with numbers matching those of a stolen car in Montreux,” Kramer said.

If Crystal was taken aback, she showed nothing, but stood her ground. The commander remarked to himself—this woman is tough, no pushover at all. Crystal continued, “Dr. Bailitz asked me to convey to you that unless you have a valid search warrant signed by the Frankfurt superintendent of police, you are out of order being here, and you and your men should leave at once. Do you have such a warrant?”

“We’re not leaving,” Kramer said. “Tell your Dr. Bailitz to have his security force stand down. My team will be coming up.”

The man at the reception desk looked at the GSG-9 commander with sudden respect. The commander had stood his ground.

Crystal remained in her place, watching Kramer who had refused to leave. The smile on her face changed from warm and engaging to polite but absolutely firm. She turned and walked up the steps of the grand stairway to the second floor.

Gerard commented to Kramer over his microtransmitter, “We’re continuing to move through the secret passageway on the second floor. The lights have been on for the last few minutes, even though the lighting is dim. We assume the surveillance systems are working, and we’ve been noticed if anyone is monitoring the equipment.”

The three men, Tom, Gerard, and Hoener, the GSG-9 soldier, had entered the secret corridor and climbed the back stairway. They stopped at each window along the passageway, looking into the rooms.

Tom said, “We need to figure out where the virus is.”

Gerard added, “Keep a lookout for refrigeration equipment. They’ll be storing any unsealed virus under heavy refrigeration.”

The first two rooms they observed from inside the passageway had tables with computers and technicians working on papers at their desks. The view of what was in the third room, however, caused all three to gasp.

In the center was a platform, about four feet high, holding a giant model of a city with miniature skyscrapers, roads, hotels, and houses. They could make out that there were small cars and larger trucks on the roads, but also cars parked along the edges of the streets. Trees, public fountains, even scores of people walking were also shown. The detail was impressive: there were railroad tracks, a couple of factories, and even several oil derricks, which looked substantial, probably made out of cast iron. On the periphery, there were papier-mâché mountains ringing the city. There were tall fans on four sides of the city.

“Amazing,” said Tom. “This must be a model of Nairobi. It’s a room I didn’t see when I was here yesterday.”

“You told me about Bailitz’s first target,” said Gerard. “But this model is so complete. Hearing you talk about it is one thing. Seeing it makes Bailitz’s plan more sinister and real. Every one of my colleagues at E.I.S. has the same nightmare: being unable to stop a virus pandemic that rages out of control.”

“Like SARS?” asked Tom.

“Exactly. In three to four weeks, it spread from one province in China to thirty-seven countries. We stopped it, but only barely.”

Gerard was silent for a few moments, staring into the Nairobi room.

“What do you see?” Tom asked,

“I’ve spotted at least two cameras. Bailitz can watch everything going on in this room without being in the secret passageway.”

Otto Kramer interrupted, speaking to them over their earphones. “We have to assume that the woman Bailitz sent down to meet me has told Bailitz about your going up the back passageway. In any case, with the power back on, the surveillance systems will be working again. Check to see if the passageway’s been booby-trapped.”

The soldier accompanying Tom and Gerard shone his flashlight in the passageway. “There are some simple black boxes on the floor every twenty feet or so.”

In Tom’s and Gerard’s ears, from the microtransmitter, came the voice of the GSG-9 commander to his soldier, Hoener. “Check them out, now,” said Kramer.

Hoener knelt down while Gerard held his flashlight on the black box. The soldier studied the box, then said, “It’s wired into the wall. There are eight wires leading from a hole in the box into the wall.”

In their ears, again, from the microtransmitter, came Kramer’s voice. “Don’t fool with any of those wires. Some are real, others are fake. If you cut the wrong wire, the system will short out and—I would guess—an explosion of some sort will occur. Even worse, I’ll bet that all the other boxes would go off simultaneously. Bailitz has planned for the possibility that a hostile might enter the secret passageway.”

Tom said to Gerard, “Bailitz knows about the GSG-9 downstairs and undoubtedly suspects we’re in this passageway. We must hurry.”

Gerard nodded and moved further down the corridor, with Tom and the soldier close behind. The next one-way mirror in the hidden passageway showed the interior of a gleaming laboratory. There was a metal door with a thick glass panel on an adjoining wall. From where Tom and Gerard stood, there was no entrance from the secret passageway into the laboratory.

Inside, half a dozen scientists were dressed in cotton scrubs and disposable gowns. They were wearing latex gloves and had headgear on, clear plastic shields enclosing their faces. Tubes ran out of the back of the shields to sets of filters strapped to their waists. At the entrance, there was a retina scanner and at the other end of the room there was a large freezer against the wall.

Tom said, with some excitement, “We’re here. These must be Bailitz’s scientists working on the virus—under orders to find an antidote.”

Hoener quietly said, “I see two guards at the front door to the lab.”

Tom spotted them. “They’ve got Hazmat suits on.”

Gerard added, “That’s dress code for anyone in a room with a communicable virus in it. What are they doing?”

“They’re each carrying Eliseo R5 6-mm BR repeaters,” said Hoener.

“What are they?” asked Tom.

“High power, highly accurate, rapid firing rifles. Deadly. These people mean business.”

Abruptly, Tom realized he was outclassed. This was the big time, he acknowledged. No game, at all. How could he, or he and Alex, for that matter, have brought these professional warriors down? He felt fear.

Gerard was staring at the freezer. “I’d guess the virus is there.”

The three men were studying the laboratory so intently that they completely failed to notice that someone had come up behind them in the secret passageway. “The canisters are, in fact, in the freezer,” a voice said.

Tom was so startled that he whirled around to confront this voice. Standing before him was Crystal, looking as beautiful as ever. But there was also, he thought, something urgent in her eyes. “You’re in serious danger here,” she said. “Bailitz is in his office. He doesn’t appear to know you’re in here yet, but the camera surveillance will have picked you up. The arrival of the GSG-9 squad has put him on edge. He’ll be on the lookout for trouble.”

Tom thought, Bailitz must know about us from your telling him, Crystal. But he said aloud, “Why would I trust anything you say?”

“If you did trust me, I’d say you’re a fool,” Crystal answered. “But you don’t have much choice, do you? I’ll give you a reason, though. I never thought Bailitz was mad enough to turn a catastrophic menace like this virus loose on the world. And he’s willing to do this without having found the antidote. I think he may destroy the company—a risk he now seems willing to take. I find this unacceptable. He’s a wholly different person now that he physically has the virus.”