They both stood in silence for a moment. The wind picked up, whistling through the iron lattices. Most of the tourists had gone.
“Well, it sounds like a job for another day,” said Mary. “We’re in Paris, dammit. And I’m not going to let this ruin my vacation.” She took Leopold’s hand.
He felt the skin on his arms prickle. “Maybe we should go find the others.”
“Or maybe you should just shut up a minute and appreciate the moment.”
Leopold squeezed her hand. “Yes, ma’am.”
They both turned and looked out over the horizon. The sun had shifted from pink to orange and the sky was nearly black. At street level, endless lines of red and white car lights snaked through the city in all directions. On the lawns below, couples gathered to pick out an empty spot of grass for the tower’s nightly illuminations display.
Mary squeezed his hand back. “When we get back to New York, we’ll get this all figured out. Until then, how about we enjoy ourselves a little?”
Leopold smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
“There’s just one thing.”
“What?”
“On no account am I eating snails. Or frog’s legs. Or that thing with the raw beef and the egg. I just want to put that out there right now.”
“I read about a place nearby that does a killer cheeseburger.”
Mary smiled and drew in closer. “Sounds perfect.”
“Then it’s agreed.” He felt the warmth from her body pressed up against his. “Cheeseburgers and beer. The perfect French experience.”
“I think I’ve had all the French experience I can handle for now. Count me in.”
“Sophie won’t approve.”
“She’ll get over it.”
Leopold didn’t reply, instead pulling Mary in a little closer. The cold wind was making his face numb, but he barely noticed. He felt her body against his. She didn’t pull away.
“Mary…”
She looked up into his eyes.
“About Kate. What did she say when you called her back?”
Mary let go of Leopold’s hand. “Seriously? You want to talk about that now?” She pulled away.
“I just thought –”
“That’s just the problem; you think too much.” Turning on her heel, she walked away toward the elevators.
Leopold sighed, his breath condensing in front of his face. “Okay, okay, just wait a minute.”
She stopped and glanced back.
He walked toward her. “You’re right.”
“About what?” She raised one eyebrow.
“That whatever’s coming is coming and there’s nothing we can do about it. That we should just live for the moment.” He stopped as he drew close. “You know, just jump in feet first and let the universe figure out the details.”
Mary folded her arms. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” she said. “Not much, mind you. But it’s better than nothing.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good. Because that’s about as complimentary as I’m ever going to get.” She shivered. “It’s cold up here. Seeing as you’ve ruined the moment completely, what do you say we go find the others and get something to eat?”
Leopold rubbed his palms together to warm them up. “How about we just give it a few more minutes?” He took hold of her hands. “How’s that?”
Mary moved in closer. “Better.”
He let the moment fall into silence, holding on to each second as it passed by. The night didn’t seem quite so cold, and, for the first time in his life, there was nowhere else he would rather be.
EPILOGUE: FIVE DAYS LATER
Luca Ginelli stepped into the decontamination chamber. He heard the airlock engage and saw the vents in the ceiling open, releasing concentrated plumes of vaporized hydrogen peroxide into the sealed room. Protected by the hazmat suit, the corrosive fumes posed no threat – except to the potential contagions that may have found their way onto the surface of his outfit.
The vents closed and the exhaust outlet slid open, sucking the poisonous air out of the chamber. A green light flashed to indicate the room was safe and Luca pulled off the protective suit, hanging it on one of the wall hooks. He opened one of the lockers and pulled out his lab clothes, quickly changing into them before heading for the exit. Sliding the bolt open, the young technician pulled on the handle and felt resistance. It wouldn’t budge. He tried again, rattling the mechanism with mounting frustration. A faint hissing noise made Luca stop.
Did the airlock fail to engage properly? he thought, looking around the chamber. The green light was still flashing, signaling the environment was safe. He shrugged and tried the door again. No luck.
Peering through the glass, Luca strained to make out the room beyond. Thanks to the bright fluorescent bulbs inside the decon room, all he could see what his own reflection. He looked tired. After several weeks of pulling late shifts and sleeping at the lab he wasn’t surprised, but the face of the man looking back at him was barely recognizable.
Luca almost jumped out of his skin when the face smiled at him.
“Jesus Christ!” his voice echoed against the cold steel of the chamber.
A light flicked on outside and the technician realized there was a man standing on the other side of the door, one he’d never seen before. He was tall and slim, with a hardened expression and a chiseled face. There were faint scars around his forehead and chin. The initial shock wearing off, Luca regained his composure and stared into the stranger’s dark eyes. He immediately wished he hadn’t.
“Dottore Ginelli,” the man said. “I wanted to take the opportunity to speak with you before you retired for the evening.”
Luca heard the man’s voice through the intercom system. The stranger spoke with an accent, a mixture of dialects that the technician couldn’t quite figure out. What was unmistakable, however, was the man’s tone – somewhere between polite and menacing, the vocal equivalent of a switchblade wrapped in silk.
“Who are you?” asked Luca, forcing himself not to stammer. “This is a restricted area. You can’t be down here.” He felt his chest start to tighten, a common reaction whenever he was nervous.
“I beg to differ, Dottore.” The man held up a security pass.
Luca wiped the back of his hand across his nose. “Who are you?” he repeated.
“Please excuse my manners. You might have been aware of the recent change in ownership?”
The technician nodded.
“Well, I’m here to make sure the company I bought is going to be worth the investment. You’ve been doing some very interesting work. I’ve been reading your case files. Impressive.” He flashed a smile, although the expression was cold.
“Then you’ll also know the experiments were a failure.”
“Oh?”
“The nanoparticles we engineered targeted healthy cells as well as mutated ones. They destroyed everything they came into contact with. It was a complete failure.”
“I wouldn’t call that a failure, Dottore.”
Luca rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine coming on. “In what world would you call it a success? Instead of developing a new way to target and destroy cancer cells, we created something even worse than the disease we were trying to cure. I recommended that the research be shut down and the results made public. We could learn a lot from the way this new virus works.”
“That’s not an option, I’m afraid.” The man sighed. “You’ve done some wonderful work, as have your colleagues, but I’m afraid it’s time for you to move on.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your work has been exemplary, and we appreciate the results you’ve given us. Unfortunately, some information has recently come to my attention that paints you in a rather negative light.”
Luca felt the tightness in his chest get worse. “What information?”
“We monitor all incoming and outgoing cell phone signals here. I understand y
ou’ve been having some conversations with the World Health Organization. That kind of behavior won’t be tolerated.”
“My rights are protected by international law,” said Luca, stepping closer to the glass window. “Unlock this door. I’ll be gone by the morning and you can discuss this with my union representative.”
“Your union representative is otherwise engaged. And I’m afraid you won’t be going anywhere.” He rapped a knuckle on the glass. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”
Luca coughed into his hands, feeling something warm and wet against his palms.
“I thought as much,” the man said. “Your work with viruses has been fascinating, but where they excel in terms of transmissibility and virulence, they can often take hours, or even days to reach full strength.”
Luca looked down at his hands. They were covered in a brownish-red mucus. His migraine intensified as he tried to take a deep breath. He felt his heart begin to pump faster.
“For speedier results on a smaller scale, it made sense to look elsewhere.” The man kept his dark eyes fixed on the technician as he spoke. “Some of your colleagues have been doing some wonderful things with synthetic nerve agents.” He smiled again.
His head spinning, Luca dropped to his knees. “What the hell have you done?” he said, struggling to force enough air through his lungs to form the words.
“You can consider yourself the first human test subject for our latest breakthrough. It’s based largely on the VX nerve agent, but we’ve made it a little bit nastier, as I’m sure you can tell.” He paused. “We’ve not been able to come up with a name for it yet. Any ideas?”
Luca didn’t reply, succumbing to a coughing fit. He could scarcely catch his breath.
“Never mind. I’m sure we’ll think of something. The nerve agent we released through the vents is preventing all the muscles in your body from receiving signals from your brain. Following a period of intense muscle contraction,” he let the words sink in, “your body will shut down entirely. I’m afraid it won’t be pleasant.”
The urge to cough faded and Luca felt his throat start to close up. “Wh-who the hell are you?” he said, as the tightness increased. It felt as though he were being strangled by invisible hands.
“I suppose that’s a fair question.” He stepped closer to the glass so that his breath left a fog.
Luca tried to speak but couldn’t. His chest felt as though it were made of stone, and his futile attempts to breathe only intensified the pain in his skull. His heart started to pound more violently, struggling to deal with the shock of what was happening. The searing pain inside his lungs made him want to scream, but nothing came out. Then the pain stopped.
In the moments before his death, Luca Ginelli’s life didn’t flash before his eyes. He didn’t ponder his regrets or wonder what might have been, he didn’t even picture his family and friends. He only noticed the stranger at the window speaking the last words he would ever hear:
“My name is Robert. Robert Blake.”
THE END
LEOPOLD BLAKE WILL RETURN
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About the Author
Nick Stephenson was born and raised in Cambridgeshire, England. He writes mysteries, thrillers, and suspense novels, as well as the occasional witty postcard, all of which are designed to get your pulse pounding. His approach to writing is to hit hard, hit fast, and leave as few spelling errors as possible. Don’t let his headshot fool you – he’s actually full color (on most days).
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