“I do.”
“You have a strange way of showing it.”
“There wasn’t time to tell you. I couldn’t shake the feeling that you, me, Gaëlle, and Huck weren’t going to make it out of the sewers alive. The broken vial was a last-minute decision that will ensure we all make it to the street, where there is protection,” Nick said.
“Once Dragan realizes that you’re not really infected, he’ll kill you.”
“I’m responsible for Dragan having the smallpox that he’s already got. If this attack happens, all those deaths are on me. I made it possible. I couldn’t live with that. This way, I guarantee that I will have a chance to stop him.”
She couldn’t fault him for having a conscience. In fact, it was nice to know that he did. But it didn’t make her any less angry or any less afraid for his safety.
“It’s suicide,” Kate said. “You idiot.”
“Where’s your optimism?”
“I prefer being realistic.”
“You’ll rescue me before anything bad happens,” Nick said.
“Don’t be so sure. I was too late in Antwerp.”
“You made up for it later.”
“That’ll be hard for me to do if you’re dead.”
“I think you’re missing the point here,” he said. “I’m trusting you with my life. How much more could I trust you than that?”
Kate squinched her eyes shut. “Ugh!”
—
Litija squinted at the screen. “It looks like they are saying goodbye.”
Joe shook his head. “I think Nick is up to something.”
“How can you tell?”
Because he’d heard their conversation. “He’s got that sparkle in his eye.”
It was true, he did. Or maybe Joe just imagined it.
“You can see a sparkle?” she asked.
“Can’t you?”
The phone rang. Joe hit a switch, putting the call from the tunnel on the speaker.
“Nick is the smallpox sample now,” Kate said.
It took a second for Litija to wrap her head around that. At first what Kate said made no sense at all to her, and then she realized it was brilliant. Things could move forward exactly as Litija had planned. The only difference was that now the box carrying the virus wasn’t titanium, it was flesh and blood.
“How is he getting out of the lab without infecting everyone?” Litija asked.
“He’ll strip out of his clothes and put himself in an impermeable vinyl suit like the blue ones hanging in the control room,” Kate said. “The suits have independent air purifying respirators that operate on a battery with a six-hour charge. But there’s one thing he needs to know first. Does Dragan have the smallpox vaccine? If Nick can get it within the next seventy-two hours, he has a chance.”
“Yes, of course he does,” Litija said, though she had no idea if Dragan did or not and she didn’t care. It was the only answer Nick wanted to hear so that’s what she gave Kate.
“Gaëlle will lead the others out of here and up to the street,” Kate said. “I’ll bring Nick to the manhole on rue Boissonade. Have the sewer utility van waiting to roll.”
Rue Boissonade was a good choice, Litija thought. It was a residential side street that ran along the northern perimeter of the institute, on the other side of the block from avenue Denfert-Rochereau. There was little chance of any cars or pedestrians there at this time of the morning, and there would be few, if any, surveillance cameras. Daca and Stefan wouldn’t be able to see them, but the two snipers could still watch the major cross streets and give her plenty of warning if the police were coming.
“There’s one thing I need to know first,” Litija said. “What happens if he tears his suit going through the little tunnel you just dug? He could infect us all.”
“I’ll tape up any tears.”
“Won’t you get infected?” Litija didn’t care about Kate’s health. What she was worried about was Kate starting an outbreak herself in Paris and ruining everything.
“I was vaccinated for smallpox in the military,” Kate said. “It was part of our preparation for chemical warfare.”
“Okay,” Litija said. “Give the phone to Vinko.”
Vinko got on the line and they had a quick discussion in Serbian. Litija told him that Nick was now the virus but that everything else was to go exactly as planned. When she was done, she caught Joe staring at her suspiciously.
“Why weren’t you talking in English?” he asked.
“He’s not very good at English and I wanted to make absolutely sure there were no misunderstandings,” Litija said. “Or people could die.”
It made sense to him. Joe nodded his approval. “Starting with us.”
Definitely, she thought.
—
Nick went through an air lock in the back of the lab that presumably led to the room where scientists donned their positive pressure suits. Instead, he walked off the set into the basement where Chet was waiting for him with the blue biohazard suit on a hanger. There was an open bottle of red wine and a plate of cheese, prosciutto, and grapes on a table for Nick, too.
“Well played,” Chet said.
“The real credit goes to that spider of yours,” Nick said, unzipping his sewer worker’s jumpsuit and stepping out of it wearing only a T-shirt and Calvins. “You ought to sell it as a novelty item. It would go over big with little boys eager to scare their sisters and mothers.”
“Too late. You can buy radio-controlled spiders for twenty dollars on the Internet,” Chet said, scooping his spider from the floor. “This one costs two grand. It’s left over from a movie I worked on. So is this biohazard suit. It only looks and sounds like the real thing. It’s not actually impermeable, and the respirator doesn’t purify the air you’re breathing or exhaling.”
“I’ll try not to wear it around anyone infected with a real virus.” Nick popped a few cubes of cheese in his mouth and poured himself a generous glass of wine, which he drank like water. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Boyd, Willie, and Tom came down the stairs as Chet was helping Nick into the suit. It looked like something an astronaut might wear for a moonwalk except with a huge transparent hood instead of a helmet.
“That was a brilliant performance,” Boyd said.
“I thought I overacted and made the bite look more like a gunshot,” Nick said, stepping into rubber boots with his suit-covered feet.
“You had to. It was a silent movie,” Boyd said. “Every gesture and emotion has to be exaggerated to make up for the lack of dialogue. But you conveyed the abject horror perfectly. It really felt like you were doomed.”
“Because he might be,” Willie said. “Kate’s right, Nick. You’re an idiot. Making yourself the virus was a dumb move.”
“I admire what he’s doing,” Tom said. “He’s risking his life for one chance to save thousands of Americans. It’s noble.”
“Be sure to put that in his eulogy,” Willie said. “It’ll bring everyone to tears.”
“You’re almost as bad as Kate,” Nick said.
Nick taped his boots to his ankles with duct tape. He got up and headed for the air lock. “You all did great work, as usual. Willie, you’d better get in your car, we’ll be going soon.”
“I won’t lose you,” Willie said, heading back up the stairs.
“Once we’re gone,” Nick said, “the rest of you get out of here and take the first flight back to Los Angeles.”
Nick gave everyone a thumbs-up and walked through the fake air lock into the lab.
“You can find me in Miami,” Boyd said. “I’m not going anywhere near Los Angeles until I hear how this turns out.”
“That makes two of us,” Chet said.
“Three,” Tom said. “I’m meeting my family in Walla Walla.”
—
Kate was already in the control room holding a roll of duct tape when Nick entered the lab. He walked across the lab to the air lock and stepped inside. The door closed behind
him. He waited for the green light that indicated the air had been sucked out of the tiny room and new air pumped in. It was all for show, of course, none of that was actually happening, but they had a lie to sell if anyone was watching.
The green light went on and Nick stepped out. He modeled the suit for her.
“How do I look?”
“Very stylish,” she said. “I’ll go through the tunnel first and wait for you on the other side. I’ll check you out for tears and tape up any that I see.”
“You’ll get infected,” Nick said.
“I’ve been vaccinated.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“How would you know?”
“I would have seen the scar,” he said.
“You must have missed it.”
“I gave you a very thorough examination,” Nick said. “I can map every freckle.”
“I don’t think I am going to be in any real danger of infection, do you? I’ll see you on the other side of the tunnel,” she said and crawled inside.
He waited a moment, then carefully crawled in after her. It was a tight fit, but the diamond core driller had left the walls fairly smooth, and he went slowly. When he got to the end, she helped him out of the hole and checked his suit out for punctures or tears.
She tore off a few pieces of duct tape, putting one on each knee and another on his back, where the shape of the respirator stuck out like a backpack under the suit.
“Were there some rips?” Nick asked.
“I don’t think so. I covered the scratches just to be on the safe side,” she said. “Follow me.”
They walked single file down the corridor, through an IGC access tunnel, and then into the sewer. A sign on the wall read rue Boissonade. They reached the ladder to the manhole and Kate climbed up first, pushing the manhole cover up and sliding it aside. She climbed out into the predawn darkness and saw the SAP truck parked at the curb under a street lamp. Litija was in the driver’s seat. The three Road Runners, Gaëlle, and Huck were standing a safe distance away on the sidewalk behind the van, as if Nick might explode and they didn’t want to get hit by the shrapnel.
Kate climbed out and waved Vinko over. “Help me ease Nick out of here.”
Vinko looked like he’d rather have a hot coffee enema, but he came over anyway.
As Nick slowly emerged, they each took one of his arms and gently eased him out of the manhole, careful to make sure his suit cleared the opening without scraping it. The instant Nick was out, Vinko joined Borko and Dusko behind Gaëlle and Huck. It was like the three Road Runners were using Gaëlle and Huck as human shields.
Kate led Nick to the back of the van and opened the doors for him. Nick stepped inside the empty cargo area. Once he was settled on a bench, Kate started to climb in, too.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Litija said, turning in her seat to look at them.
“I’m going with you,” Kate said.
“No, you’re not.” Litija lifted a Sig Sauer P239 off her lap and aimed it at Kate. “Get out.”
“It’s okay, Kate,” Nick said. “I don’t need your protection anymore. I think I’m way past that now.”
“I thought I was more than protection to you,” she said.
“You thought wrong,” Nick said. “Good luck to you.”
“I’m not the one who is going to need it.”
Kate stepped out and slammed the door closed behind her. Litija set her gun down on the passenger seat.
“Put on your seatbelt,” Litija said. “We don’t want any accidents.”
Kate watched the van drive away before turning to face Gaëlle and Huck and the three Road Runners.
The Road Runners had guns drawn, and Gaëlle and Huck had eyes wide with fear. Dusko moved a short distance from the group and aimed his gun at Kate.
“You really don’t want to do this,” Kate said to the men.
“It’s not a question of what we want,” Vinko said. “We follow orders.”
Kate stared him down. “I’d reconsider if I were you. If you don’t lower those guns, you’ll be killed. We have protection.”
“You don’t look protected to me,” Vinko said.
She stayed stoic. “You’re making a mistake.”
Vinko and Borko aimed. So did Dusko.
Huck took Gaëlle’s hand. Gaëlle squeezed it hard and they both closed their eyes. What they heard next sounded like two sandbags hitting the ground. It took a second for Gaëlle and Huck to realize that they weren’t shot. They turned around and saw that Vinko and Borko were dead on the ground, both shot in the head.
Kate didn’t hear or see the shots, but knew she had Walter, up on a rooftop somewhere, to thank for saving Gaëlle and Huck. She looked at Dusko now. He stood very still, eyes wide, and then toppled face-first to the ground, a knife in his back. Antoine Killian stood a few feet behind Dusko. Kate had no idea how the enormous man had got there or where he’d come from so fast.
“Merci,” Kate said to him.
He nodded and offered her a polite smile. “Je vous en prie.”
She assumed it was French for “You’re welcome” or “No problem.” Antoine stepped up, pulled his knife out of Dusko’s back, and wiped the blood off on the dead man’s jumpsuit.
A black BMW 7 Series sedan slinked around the corner behind Gaëlle and Huck and glided smoothly to a stop beside Kate. Willie was at the wheel and lowered the passenger window to speak with her.
“I’ve got a strong tracking signal on Nick,” Willie said, holding up a tablet device that was plugged into the car’s USB port. “They’re crossing the intersection of boulevard Saint-Michel and boulevard Saint-Germain.”
Kate turned to Gaëlle and Huck, both of whom looked shell-shocked. “It’s all over. You’re both safe now. Thank you for everything you’ve done. Now get out of here fast and maybe go on a vacation for a few weeks.”
She got into the BMW, and it sped away.
—
It wasn’t until the car was gone that Huck Moseby realized that the fat man who’d stabbed Dusko had disappeared. Now he and Gaëlle were alone with three corpses. Huck didn’t know what had just happened or who the fat man was or who the woman in the car was or who the hell had shot Vinko and Borko. All he knew for sure was that he’d barely escaped death and that Gaëlle was holding his hand.
He looked at her and thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was literally the woman of his dreams. It was hard to believe that she actually existed.
“If you’ll have me,” he said in French, “I will devote my life to making you happy.”
She smiled. “You have a deal.”
They kissed softly and then walked away, still holding hands.
—
“The first time we met,” Nick said, buckled in tight in the back of the van, “I’d just emerged from a coffin in a fake diamond vault in Belgium. Now here I am in a hazmat suit, infected with smallpox, and we’re driving through the streets of Paris in a sewer van. Who would have imagined that?”
“You lead a wild, exciting life,” Kate said.
“You do, too.”
“But it’s been much more profitable for you than me.”
“It doesn’t seem like it at the moment,” Nick said.
“I’m sure you’ve been in situations as bad as this.” She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “How many times have you had a gun to your head or a knife to your throat?”
“This is different. I can talk myself out of those situations.”
“I’ve seen you do it and it was amazing, especially the way you played Dragan. Nobody has ever done that before. It’s not just what you say, it’s also the outrageous risks you take at the same time. You’ve inspired me.”
“Really?” Nick said. “To do what?”
“You’ll see,” she said.
She remained silent as they headed north through central Paris, along much of the same scenic route that Gaëlle had taken with Nick and Kate during their
Uber ride. They hit the A1 freeway, taking the ramp for Lille/Aéroport Charles de Gaulle/Saint-Denis. Nick figured they were going to an airport to board Dragan’s private jet for a trip to another country. Suddenly Litija exited off the freeway and drove into an industrial warehouse district miles away from the airport.
“Are we taking the scenic route?” Nick asked.
Litija ignored him and proceeded through the rotting gates of a sprawling abandoned factory. The cavernous brick buildings had multiple smokestacks and were tangled in the gantries, pipes, and conveyors belts that ran through them, around them, and over them. She drove into one of the buildings, which was the size of an airplane hangar, and stopped the van.
“Where are we, Litija?”
“At a turning point for both of us.” Her cellphone rang. She answered it and put it on the speaker. “Hello, Dragan. I’ve put you on the speaker and am talking to you in English so Nick can hear you, too.”
“I’m very sorry about what happened to you, Nick,” Dragan said. “But I can assure you of two things. Thanks to your quick thinking, you’ll survive and our project can still go forward as we planned. You’ll be a very rich man when this is over.”
“I like that,” Nick said.
“In a few minutes, you’ll be on my plane and on your way to my lab, where you’ll get the best medical care and you can watch our plans take shape while you recuperate.”
“Recuperate? I thought I was getting the vaccine.”
“You are,” Dragan said. “But not immediately. We need to wait for the virus to multiply in your bloodstream so we can extract a potent sample that we can work with.”
“You’re using me as an incubator?”
“It’s not how I would have liked to do things, but you’re the one who dropped the vial. So we’re turning lemons into limoncello, as they say.”
“Okay, so what’s the delay?” Nick asked. “Why are we sitting in this warehouse?”
“I can answer that,” Litija said. “There’s been a little change in plans, Dragan. I wanted you to hear Nick so you’d know he was with me and that he’s still alive.”