Chasing The Dawn (Luke Temple - Book 2) (Luke Temple Series) (14 page)

The blue and red lights lapped at the buildings and trees, lighting the scene intermittently. People were sprawled around, some chatting, some sat on their own, others being helped by the various police and ambulance crews.

From inside the Mazda the whole picture had an eerie calm; Beltrano pushed the heater up a notch and sat back in his seat. He looked through the windscreen at Delvechi who was still sat inside the back of an ambulance, its rear doors open, being worked on by a paramedic. His arm was being bandaged heavily after the gun wound had been cleaned. Beltrano had tried to shout to him to not follow the man and Miss Chung into the trees but the young officer had not listened and got a bullet in the arm for his troubles.

Beltrano stroked his newly trimmed beard, allowing his hand to brush the tips of the hair, his mind rolling over and over. His phone ringing broke the daydream; he cut the call off and threw the phone onto the dashboard. As the adrenaline from the gunfight had subsided it was replaced with rage.

Damn you professor Brun … damn you.

The professor had fled the scene, but Beltrano knew he would not leave Teramo. He banged both hands onto the steering wheel.

The passenger door clicked open and Delvechi eased into the seat, groaning slightly with the effort.

“Hurt?” Beltrano eyed the bandage.

“A lot.” Delvechi sulked in his seat.

“I tried to warn you. Fools rush in.”

“That guy was trained, no question about it. He hit me in the dark, unless he has eyes like an owl. I asked some of the guests and they said he was claiming to be a charity worker.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, but there is no way he works for a charity. We need to get on their trail, what’s the next move?”

Beltrano looked out through the windscreen. “Bed.”

“What? Bed? But he has taken that scientist woman!”

“We pick up in the morning. They won’t get far, the police are setting up cordons, and I have a feeling they will be heading back into the town. We go home, you need to rest, then we pick things up tomorrow in the station.”

Delvechi was perplexed. “But … but ... I am fine, let’s get onto them now.”

“No, we pick up in the morning.” Beltrano was in no mood to argue, he gunned the engine.

“Fine, what about all these guys?” Delvechi gestured at the scene.

“The local authorities have it under control. We will go over all the statements tomorrow first thing. We can do our debrief with them then.”

“If you say so, Sir, I still think we should start straight away.”

Beltrano drove slowly around the scene and positioned the Mazda down the exit road. Delvechi groaned dramatically as the car hit the tarmac.

“I shall try and drive carefully,” Beltrano growled.

“No, it’s not that, I just realised the amount of paperwork we will have to do tomorrow.”

“Good job you still have one good hand then.”

The blue LEDs lit the way like a runway, throwing beams of aqua against the smooth concrete walls. If any length of time was spent down in the subterranean maze the lighting had a habit of playing with the mind, making it feel as though the individual was swimming through water.

The man savoured the route, breathing in the cool, recycled air as he strode along, multi-coloured piping concealing the intricate, highly tuned instruments at their heart. His own heart rate began to increase, his body knowing when it was getting close to the hub. A tingling sensation trickled down his spine. He checked his watch under the blue light, time was moving forward relentlessly. Each step was clipped with tension; things had to be perfect, just right in their exactness because a lifetime of sacrifice had been poured into the work.

The silence of the tunnel was starting to be filled with a low hum, deep and rolling through the walls. Each step brought the humming closer, the floor imperceptibly started to slope downwards and the lights became dimmer.

The tunnel arced sharply round to the left and the humming now became a loud rumbling. In the distance he could see the solid surface blocking off the walkway. He increased his pace. He halted in front of a solid metal door; it was flush against a concrete wall, no edges, no way in … except one. To the left of the door a thin slot was surrounded by metal, he slipped in his key card and the door unlocked.

We are getting so close … two days.

He was not alone in his underground kingdom; the
chosen ones
were swarming down there with him. They had been down there for two weeks, locked away from the outside world, they had been persuaded it was the only way, no contact, no family, the only thing of importance was their work, until this was completed they were cut off …
only two more days.
They were so pure in their naivety.
They know not of the cause for which they work … the cause they will die for.

Inside the new room the air was warm; it was a compact square room, packed with electrical equipment. The four men inside were moving around like ballerinas, urgent but not panicked. They wore dark blue protective overalls pulled down to casually hang from the waist, their red hard hats were sat around. Dominating the room was a black wall-sized screen with white digital numbers flashing in the top left corner. Running along all three other walls were stations, or electrical desks, a thousand different buttons, dials and switches.

The preparations were almost set,
soon
we will have what we need.
The men did not look at him, too preoccupied to stop. He strolled over to a short, thin man who was knelt on the floor playing with some wiring.

“Is the link all set?”

The man turned and looked up, the black rims around his eyes evidence of the lack of sleep; he didn’t say a word, just nodded.

“Good. It is utterly crucial that the link remains open.” The experiment was not being contained just in the cave.

The men knew their roles inside out, fear driving them.
Poor fools … they work blindly, desperately seeking enlightenment, but they search in the wrong places. There is only one true path, and we are about to light the way.

He eyed the men, each one was so familiar to him, did he feel sadness for their fate? He watched as they worked, the answer was no.

He is all-forgiving; they will be taken to his bosom.

Deciding there wasn’t anything he could do to assist, the man slipped out into the corridor. He needed to wander around the labyrinth; it put him at ease to keep moving. He unlocked the steel door and headed back up the tunnel, blue waves breaking over his face.

Wednesday 14
^th
November

The black sky began its daily fight with the dawn, a fading grey mixed with the lights of Teramo. The wind was the only noise as it blew unchallenged across the fields. The ground was solid due to the frost and the uneven pockets of frozen mud made it look like a pockmarked mass spreading in all directions.

Luke had guided them on an indirect path back into the town, the quickest route would also be the most dangerous. The local police would have been alerted by now and if they had any sense they would be looking at setting key cordons and barriers around the outskirts. He knew time was dangerously low, but being fast and caught was as useless as being slow and dead.

Chung Su stumbled on a loose piece of frozen mud. Not even bothering to attempt to stay upright, she hit the floor hard, not a single noise left her blue lips. Her thoughts edged further and further away, like a gently passing wind they blew through without her being able to grasp them. Images of Brun blew past, he was holding his papers and shouting and screaming. As he floated away he was replaced by the Carabinieri standing in front of her, a gun in hand, staring and smiling, not saying a word. Chung Su tried to talk, opening her mouth, but was unable to produce any sound. The Carabinieri raised the gun and aimed at her, then with a sudden gust of wind he was gone. Her whole body felt in a permanent state of utmost tension, every muscle tightened to the point of snapping. It was a painful struggle to suck in air.

On the floor the world took on a strange patchwork of greys and blacks,
was that someone touching me?
She could have sworn that her skin felt something, it was not a normal touch, hard and tangible, more of a dull sensation. Her body was dragged up off the floor; she didn’t have the energy to lift her head, her hair flowing down to the ground. The rhythmic bobbing enticed sleep and she let her eyes close.

“Come on, Chung Su, stay awake. How are you feeling back there?”

Luke needed Chung Su to talk, or at least attempt to. Half the battle against hypothermia was fought in the mind. The moment it faded then the overwhelming urge to sleep would be irresistible and the body would systematically shut down.

“Chung Su, can you do me a favour and count every time I take a step? It will help me to know how far we have to go. Can you do that?”

Chung Su made a squeak. It was clear they wouldn’t make the northern part of the city; he would have to change strategy.

He scanned the area for any signs of life; way off to his right, there was a thick orange glow in the middle of a sea of grey. From distance he couldn’t make out specifics but
light equals civilisation.
He hoisted her higher on his shoulders and set off in the direction of the orange glow.

***

“I am going to have to sit you down, very briefly. I will be back, I promise.”

Chung Su didn’t acknowledge the words; she heard them but her body was no longer under her control.

Luke rested her on the ground. The cold air attacked his shoulders and neck immediately. They were now within fifty metres of the source of the light. It was a grubby-looking house, the cream-coloured exterior was Artexed and crumbling, the weather attacking it year after year. Now up close Luke could see that the warm orange light was in fact coming from a rear outhouse, too small to be called a barn, too large to be called a shed.

The outhouse looked as though it had been cobbled together from corrugated iron and bricks, all held together with uneven concrete layers. Luke liked the isolation of the property, there were no other buildings between it and Teramo. He drew the Sig Sauer from his waistband, his hands barely able to close around it, and approached the house from the south side, crouching low.

He took a deep breath, his limbs tighter than he would have liked and his jaw aching from gritting his teeth through the cold. During training he had seen operatives in the frozen fjords break their fillings and crack teeth from gritting and chattering. Raising the Sig Sauer he ejected the Parabellum cartridge to make sure the mechanisms were not frozen; two bullets remained. He hoped he wouldn’t need to use them, then he checked the firing action. The tape was still pressed down hard over the full cartridge strapped to the handle.

He put his ear to the wind; there was nothing but silence and the gentle creak of the corrugated iron. This next part would need to be fast and smooth; he tried one last time to loosen his limbs. He then exploded from the wall moving in the direction of the outhouse.

Luke pressed himself flat against the most obvious entry point and rattled the door handle, it was locked.
Try no more than two entry points before using force, the only thing you have is surprise, and for surprise to work you need speed.
Luke moved away from the wall, slipping slightly on broken bricks that were embedded in the ground, his mind alive and crackling. Cut out of the outhouse wall was a rough-looking doorway, filled by a seemingly leftover piece of corrugated iron with a silver door handle glued on. Luke didn’t need to try the handle, the whole door was barely held up, anyone inside would have seen his silhouette moving around anyway. Luke jammed his left shoulder into the door, it flexed and snapped inward. Luke followed it, gun raised.

The room was empty; the orange light was coming from a range of large candles lining a broken wooden cabinet. Luke swung the pistol around the room, taking in detail; the room had a dusty concrete floor. At the far end was a giant hole in the house wall covered by nothing more than a sheet of plastic. It was clear that this was a very raw extension in mid-build. Luke moved over to the sheet of plastic, making sure he placed his foot down heel to toe.

Using the pistol to push back the plastic he was confronted with darkness. He was now into the kitchen area, it smelt musty and damp. As his eyes adjusted he could see the kitchen was a rustic melee of wooden cabinets and a thick stone centrepiece on which sat various bottled sauces and condiments. Luke paused for a second; he picked up a slight rumble coming from the direction of the door. He continued through the house.

The whole place was in a clear state of decay, paint was flaking off the walls and there was no sign of any furniture in the hallway. The entire space was damp. Luke moved in the direction of the rumbling; continuing down the empty hallway he stopped outside a doorway on his left. Keeping the pistol raised, he moved swiftly and smoothly into the room, covering every corner with the barrel. The room had an eerie soft orange glow, a three-bar portable heater gave off an intense heat. The room matched the hallway in terms of interior design, apart from the heater there was nothing but a large tatty armchair and a three-shelf unit. Luke circled the armchair and found the cause of the rumbling, an elderly man was asleep and snoring, he was well into the twilight of his life, creases and wrinkles ran all over his skin.

Luke whistled, and whispered in Italian, “Wake up, old timer. Wake up!”

The man puffed out some noise, stirring slowly. Finally he lifted his head to be confronted with the barrel of the Sig Sauer. To Luke’s surprise he didn’t panic, he just stared.

Luke kept to a whisper, “Who else is in the house?”

The man spoke in a deep guttural voice. “No one. I live alone.”

Luke looked into the man’s eyes, they were hung and dark rings stained the edges. Luke needed to make sure. He clicked off the safety and took a step closer. “You’d better be telling me the truth or I will kill you and anyone else who is here.”