The word immaculate sprang to mind. Golden hair, perfectly edged, halted its enticing descent immediately on meeting the bottom of her shoulder blades and refused to budge from its stilled position. Every strand had to have been glued in place to the slim-fitting white blouse to behave so obediently. An unusual item of trivia to hold his attention but something to focus on, something to take his mind off …
“Your appointment, Mr Daniels,” said the beauteous vision of administrative efficiency, taking a delicate step aside to permit him access through the opening.
He expected grandeur and wasn’t disappointed; everything was as imagined and more. The cavernous space before him reeked of luxury. At the far side walls of sheer glass presented a panoramic view of the Munich skyline bathed in unusually warm sunshine for this time of year, as his feet sank further into the deep pile of the lightly patterned carpet. The absence of clutter magnified the presence and stature in the centre of the room of the elegantly sculptured piece of highly polished wood with accompanying leather-coated chair he assumed to be her work station. Unable to locate his audience he turned to face the glass walls through which he’d just entered.
“We can see out but they are unable to look in,” said the voice from behind and he turned to face her pristinely dressed shape appearing from apparently out of nowhere, armed with an apprehensive smile.
He edged forward to get a better view of her hiding place, a cleverly concealed recess. Yet another large space, only this one housing a wide screen LED television atop a manicured wood sculpture posing as a cabinet. No more than three feet high its length reached to both sides of the recess, suggesting it had been purposely built for that one piece of space. She pressed the button on the remote control and the HD image disappeared, shortly followed by the large screen itself as the inbuilt motors lowered the electronic device into the cabinet. There was a recurring theme to this extraordinary place of work, class, sheer class.
“President Keller appears to be maximising the sympathy vote over the murders of his friends. I suspect he’ll be a shoe-in for re-election when the time comes around no matter how low his ratings get over the next three years or so.”
“I guess so.”
“Are you alright?” she asked. “You’re looking a bit pale and you’re sweating.”
“Bit of a chill,” he said, though his words failed to placate the look of concern in her eyes.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded and tried to smile.
“I confess to being somewhat bewildered by the unusual method of your approach.”
“How is your arm?” he asked.
“Well enough for you to give me a proper welcoming hug if you insist.”
His approach brought a look of bright amusement to her face and he stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“Is the light in your pocket a sex toy or are you pleased to see me?” she said with a laugh.
Matt retrieved the object, the blue light glowing strongly, and his heart sank.
“There isn’t much time,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your office is bugged. The blue light is audio, the red is for visual. The numbers here tell me the frequency being used by those listening in.”
He held it forward and slowly turned in a circle, stopping the moment the light increased its glow. Matt walked to the desk and slid a hand under the rim, his fingers soon retreating back into view with the offending object.
“I don’t understand ...”
“It’s not over,” he said quietly. “They’re still searching for an effective remedy to the Milieu virus.”
“How can they be? The conspirators are all dead. There is no conspiracy left.”
“It’s not over,” he repeated. “There were five designated users of the vault. Four of them were on the very plane which the media are now reporting as being blown from the sky by a terrorist. The fifth is still running free.”
“But the President is personally involved in the case. It’s surely only a matter of time before they bring the last one to justice and reveal all to the world.”
“The press conference you were watching is a repeat from yesterday. Did you hear Keller mention at any time anything about a conspiracy?”
“He said there was more to come.”
“Not about the conspiracy. I’m guessing the more will be about the hunt for the bomber, the one who planted the device on the private jet carrying these four supposed beacons of American society. Keller wants two terms. How do you think it would look if he reveals his Vice President was involved in the conspiracy? He’s trying to protect reputations, notably his own, hence the bombing of the plane which he’ll pass off to the public as an attack against the American people so as to avoid the wrong kind of media speculation. That’s how it works.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “But even if you are right it no longer has anything to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me, as long as the fifth man is out there.”
“You’re starting to scare me,” she said.
Her expression, so full of hope and optimism a few short minutes ago, had converted to questioning disbelief.
“What does it have to do with you?”
“I’ve been to see Maria,” he said.
“You went to Maria before you came here!”
Her dark eyes adopted their ‘that’s not funny’ mode and he couldn’t be sure what she would say next.
“I went to make sure she was okay.”
“How many times have I said to you, we no longer live in an honourable world,” she said.
“Honour never entered my head. It was a conscience thing, redemption or something.”
“And?” she demanded.
He searched for the best way to break the news. In the end he decided to just go for it.
“While I was recovering at Maria’s she took samples from me and sent them to a scientific laboratory. She explained it as being necessary to monitor progress. Except there was another reason why they wanted samples, one she didn’t tell me about. They were also testing my body’s recovery from the antidote and I apparently exhibited signs of effectively combating the side effects of the counter serum, or to put it another way …”
“You could be the antidote to the antidote,” she said, as the realisation dawned.
“Yes. Or at least something in my body could be.”
“And Maria was aware of this?”
“Yes, which explains why she kept saying I didn’t want to talk to you when you rang. She is not all she seems. We were all fooled by her.”
“But there is no need to continue ...”
“Unless …”
“Someone still intended to use the virus. But who would do such a thing?”
“The man responsible for developing the original strain is also the man who treated me at Maria’s. He’s trying to locate me as we speak. Maria told me.”
“It could be a matter of duty of care, the professional ethics of his scientific discipline. Not everyone is conspiring against Matt Durham.”
“Like I said, the fifth user remains free.”
“You believe it is this man,” she said.
“Yes, he’s called Marius Kronk. I’ve actually met him on a few occasions but didn’t connect the dots. He told me he was only involved for the science but I think it’s the weapon he’s more interested in.”
“The virus and the antidote?” she said.
“Yes.”
“He will be caught, like the others.”
“The guy has direct access to President Keller which gives him a considerable power base. He’s coming for me. I just don’t know when or how he’s going to make his move …”
The sound of an intercom bleeping on the desk interrupted the conversation.
“Yes, Edith,” answered Gratia.
“The President of United States is addressing the country,” said the responding voice.
Gratia resurrected the screen. Seated at his desk in the oval office the tall and elegant silver-haired man was already well into his address.
“Every arm of the nation’s security apparatus is on the case and has been working 24/7 to locate the perpetrators of this vicious atrocity against our people and our democracy. I can report to you that, at great cost of additional lives, we have destroyed the nucleus of this terrorist cell responsible, taken the lives of those who would wage an unjust war against our great nation. Except one, the ringleader, now America’s most wanted.”
Matt knew what was coming and his heart sank.
“His background,” continued the President, “is shrouded in mystery to authorities all around the world, but I can reveal to you he has Canadian citizenship, obtained through permanent residence having lived in the territory for over three years and passed the necessary tests. I have spoken at great length to the Canadian Prime Minister and she has offered the cooperation of her nation’s intelligence service to hunt down this man. I give you my solemn promise he will have no hiding place and will be apprehended and brought to justice.”
Matt could see Gratia holding her breath.
“The name all Americans, all decent hardworking people around the globe, should burn in their memories is the name of Matthew Arnold Durham, Matt Durham to his supposed friends and acquaintances …”
Gratia’s frightened eyes darted towards his face in search of solace, some kind of words of encouragement. He had none to offer.
“The man’s made his move,” said Matt.
“You expected this,” she said. “That’s why you used your real name to make the appointment.”
The absence of response confirmed it and she reacted by wrapping her arms around him. Matt groaned.
“There is something wrong with you.”
“It’s okay, it’ll pass,” he said, trying to sound convincing.
“What are we going to do?”
“You’re not doing anything other than stay here and carry on like nothing has happened. It’s me that has to run.”
“No, Matt, no,” she said.
“Yes. It’s the only option available.”
“No,” she repeated. “I won’t stay without you.”
“The only chance I’ve got is to move fast, light and often and I can do that better if I’m on my own.”
“No,” she said for a third time.
The pressure of her body crushed up against him mounted as she tightened her hold. She didn’t want to let go and neither did he, but time was growing short. Snapping up the remote to increase the volume he whispered.
“There isn’t much time.”
Four short words and he felt as though his heart was about to break in two.
“I love you Gratia Fuchs. Three words I should have said such a long time ago.”
“Five,” she said.
“What?”
“I love you Gratia Fuchs is five words not three. And you are right. You should have said it a long time ago.”
“Timing,” he said. “Not one of my strong points.”
Cradling her gingerly in his arms she squeezed harder than he would have preferred and he groaned again.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hurt myself trying to avoid something yesterday.”
He tightened his hold slightly as a means of reassurance and she relaxed hers. The touch and feel of her soft and warm body, the sweet scent of her long raven hair, held him in their comforting grip once more. This was a safe place, a haven, for his weary mind and aching body. Rehearsal went out of the window as the carefully prepared words evaporated into the stratosphere to be replaced by the raw emotion tumbling free from his mouth.
“It was always you, only ever you,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Hush, we don’t have to talk about it right now.”
“We do,” he said. “Rosa Cain somehow touched my heart in a way I can’t describe, can’t explain. But she never held it in the palms of her hands the way you do. No-one else could. When I heard you’d returned to Schafen I thought you had gone from my life forever and I was lost, didn’t know what I was going to do with you no longer by my side. I should have said this a long time ago then you would never have had any reason to doubt me.”
He relaxed his hold.
“No, don’t let go of me.”
“I have to.”
“No, you don’t. Turn yourself in and fight the accusations in court.”
“If I’m caught they won’t send me to a detention centre to await trial, it’ll be a medical research facility where they can pick my body apart.”
“More reason to surrender to the German police then you can fight the extradition process.”
“Somehow I don’t see the authorities here putting up much of a struggle. You heard what the President said. My terrorist cell took out the Vice President. No-one in this world is going to give me the time of day, either here or back in the land of the free in the good old US of A.”
Her silence confirmed the harsh truth.
“I’ll send you a message as and when. Promise me you’ll look after yourself.”
She nodded and they separated, fingers touching at each other’s tips as they slowly drew apart. Leadenly he made his way to the door, strength sapping away at each step and he prayed she wouldn’t notice the physical struggle.
“Wait!”
Fingers resting on the handle, energy seeping from every pore of his body as the nausea took a hold he struggled to find the mental strength to answer.
“I have to go,” he finally managed to say.
“And I said wait God damn you.”
The strong grip on his sleeve spun him round then threw him off balance and he fell against the immaculately cleaned glass before sliding down on his rear. The left side of his coat flapped open to reveal the source of his discomfort.
“You’re bleeding!”
“It’s okay. I’ll attend to it once I’m out of the building.”
“You won’t get to the elevator never mind the street.”
Gratia crouched to take a closer look.
“This is a bullet wound. How did it happen?”
“Like I said Maria wasn’t all she seemed.”
“You stupid, stupid, man,” she said.
Using a hand to pin his weakening body against the glass wall she attempted to examine the injury with the other. Edith burst through the door.
“Gratia, there are a number of armed men coming up from the foyer to your office. Oh my God!” she shrieked on seeing the mass of red.
“It’s too late,” said Matt.
“They are not here yet. Edith, set off the fire alarm to cut the power to the elevators. And tell Jurgen to stop whatever he is doing and get in here.”
“It won’t delay them for very long,” said Matt. “Listen to me, Gratia. There are some things I need to tell you before they get here.”
Chapter Forty
Shoot the Pig