Chasing The Dawn (Luke Temple - Book 2) (Luke Temple Series) (30 page)

BOOK: Chasing The Dawn (Luke Temple - Book 2) (Luke Temple Series)
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Strategies had been dancing across his mind, and like a jigsaw he had started to slot the pieces together, the steps were now laid out. Their world was shrinking, law enforcement and Carabinieri would be crawling all over Teramo like ants, the picturesque town had been turned into a war zone. Luke knew what he needed to do. He would go on the hunt. He smiled grimly to himself.
I have the perfect bait.

56.

“There were complications.” The man held his hand over the mouthpiece and demanded the technicians leave the room. They scurried out like rats filtering into the corridors lining the underground labyrinth. The man put the phone back to his ear. “What complications?”

“She got away … with the man.”

“Really?” The man had to admit he was impressed by Miss Chung. She had far more resolve than he had given her credit for. “We cannot have them disrupting anything further; we are so close … so close!”

“I am working on it, they won’t interfere any further. They are on the run, they can’t run forever. We will destroy them.”

“No! I want the girl brought to me alive.”

“What? To you? What are you talking about? That is far too dangerous.”

“I want her here to witness this. She has given her life the same as we have. She deserves to see it before she dies.” He wanted someone who would revel in his brilliance.

“I have to object to this, I won’t allow it. Why take the risk?”

“Stop wasting time questioning me and find them! Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. I have a good idea where they will head next. If I’m right then we will neutralise them.”

“Then get it done. But only him, I want her alive! She has earned the right. The time is nearly upon us. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, I can feel it … I will not let anybody destroy what we have worked for. Allahu Akbar.”

“Allahu Akbar.” He hung up.

57.

“Bongiorno, Signor. Parla Inglese?”

“Sì, a little, Signor, how can I be of assistance?”

Luke kept up his British tourist act. The man who stood behind the reception desk of the Hotel Gran Sasso was a short stout man; he had a round cherub-like face, with jet black gelled hair. His cheeks were rosy and his teeth a stained yellow. He had a beaming smile but Luke could see in his eyes that he was wary. He eyed the dust-stained clothes that Brun had lent him; they were a mess. Luke pressed himself against the tall counter so the man could not see the blood on his jeans.

“My wife and I are staying in Rome on holiday. We decided we wanted to do some walking trails and get a bit active with some rock climbing. As you can see we didn’t do very well, but what an absolutely stunning place, we have fallen in love with it.”

The man behind the desk puffed out his chest and seemed proud of the observations of his home. “It is a great place. This time of year the air is so fresh and you get the true beauty of the Gran Sasso.”

“Oh yes, yes. We do have a slight problem though …”

“Go on, Signor …”

“The problem we have is that time has run away from us today, and there is still so much more to see. We have decided to stay the night so we can continue our exploration tomorrow and stumbled across your hotel. Could we perhaps book a room for the night?”

“Of course, Signor, it would be a pleasure, let me just check.” The man turned to a computer on the counter. Luke turned his head to check Chung Su was still sat in the handful of chairs arranged in the reception area. Her head was hanging low and she was staring at the floor.

The man sheepishly looked up, and with slight embarrassment spoke. “It seems we have lots and lots of rooms available. I must say it is unusual for us to be so quiet, but it is good news for you and your wife.”

“Great, do you have anything on the ground floor?” Luke didn’t want to be high up; the higher up they were, the further they were from an escape route.

“Erm … yes, sure. How about room eighteen?”

“That’s great.”

The man smiled and nodded. “Right, so that will be sixty-nine euros please.” Luke handed over a wad of cash.

“Now if you could just hand me your passport please, Signor …”

Luke turned up his mouth and shook his head innocently. “Ah … well that is the thing, we actually left our passports in Rome. Obviously we didn’t think we would need them.”

“Neither of you has a passport with you?” the man asked, frowning.

Luke shook his head. “Sorry …”

The man blew out his cheeks and Luke turned on the charm. “Oh, I feel so, so silly now. I suppose we had better just head back to Rome and see Teramo another year.”

The receptionist rubbed his hand along his hairline, rolled his eyes for effect and said, “Well … ok, just this once. Here are your keys.”

Luke gave his best fake smile. “This really is a great place …”

The receptionist beamed. “Your room is over that way.” He pointed toward the lifts. “Just go past the lifts on the left, follow the corridor and you will see room number eighteen.”

Luke called Chung Su over. She smiled at the man behind the counter and felt his eyes examining her dusty and ill-fitting clothes. He produced a yellow-stained smile and nodded politely.

***

The room was tiny; the double bed took up the majority of floor space and a single plant pot sat on the floor with a pathetic-looking plant crammed inside.

“You must not leave this room, understand?” Luke was checking over every inch of the space.

“I understand.” Chung Su sat on the bed with her legs pulled up to her chest. “But I’m hungry.”

“I will bring something back.” He turned on her. “Even if someone knocks at the door, you do not answer, you put the lock on and fake being asleep … clear?”

“Yes, yes, yes. How many times! Where are you going?”

Luke moved into the bathroom to check it over
. Never assume an environment is safe.
“I am going to Professor Vittorio’s apartment in L’Aquila.”

“Then let me come, please,” Chung Su begged.

“No. This one I do alone. Forty minutes there, forty minutes back, and I will be quick.”

In truth, Luke wanted a good look around Vittorio’s place and didn’t want distractions. There was a nagging thought that kept trying to come to the surface when he thought of Vittorio …
what is it?
He didn’t have time to dwell. He checked an old electronic alarm clock on the bedside table; the red numbers told him it was 7.15 p.m.

“Take this.” Luke handed her the Sig Sauer. It was a big decision to leave it. He pushed any thought from his mind that he wanted to protect her;
she is a tool, nothing more.

Chung Su took the gun and rested it on the bed, handling it now as if it were a delicate and dangerous device. Luke slammed the hotel room door shut, and listened for Chung Su to lock it. Once he heard the clicks, he turned and focused in on the next objective.

58.

Delvechi stood with his arms folded, staring out at the array of lights shining back from Teramo. His mind was racing.

Around twenty fireman were stood around the house, doing not much more than staring at it. They were all shouting and gesticulating, but with little urgency. The fire was out.

“We have isolated the gas lines and cut power to the area. I am just waiting for my men to do the final sweep.”

Delvechi nodded his head, he was only half-listening. The call had come through to the station a few hours ago, but it had been described as a gas fire, so he hadn’t been notified. After arriving and assessing the scene, the provincial officers had realised there was far more to it and Delvechi had raced over. He now stood amongst a collection of fire engines, provincial cars and two ambulances. The faint thud of helicopter rotors sounded overhead. It was not a state helicopter which meant the media.

The moment Delvechi had been told the house belonged to Professor Brun he knew in his gut that it was intentional.

“It wasn’t gas, was it?” Delvechi was not asking.

“No, Sir,” replied the fireman. “It was a localised explosion that appears to have originated from outside the property. It’s not really my job but in my opinion I would say it originated from the front porch.”

Delvechi looked around at the range of serviceman. He could see a sense of trepidation and confusion amongst them. They were all starting to realise that it was no accident, and the thought was jarring. He could almost hear them trying to process it
. But this is Teramo. How can this happen here?
Delvechi knew this was what they were thinking because only one day previously he would have been thinking the same.

Strolling over to the woman sat in the ambulance, Delvechi motioned for her to wind down her window. “Evening. That the only body?” He nodded at the stretcher that was now making its way over to them.

“Yes, there was no one else we could find inside.” She eyed him up and down, his long black coat hiding his uniform.

“Male?”

She nodded. “But don’t hope to identify him anytime soon, the explosion caught him head on.”

“Ok. I will need you all to provide a statement, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

“And you are?” she asked.

Delvechi pulled his badge out of his pocket. The woman didn’t seem shocked, she just smiled.

Delvechi knew the body would be that of the professor.
Are they eliminating people who know something? The Korean scientists, Vittorio, Brun …
Delvechi let the thought hang.
Where the hell is Beltrano?

Just then his attention was diverted by a man striding over from where the provincial officers were all congregated.
Officer Nestor.

There was something different about Nestor. The last couple of times they had met, Delvechi had recognised the normal provincial syndrome, a man who was desperate to be important, feeling challenged in his small pond. But tonight Nestor’s face looked drawn, and he lacked his usual pomp and energy.

“Good evening, Signor. Is your senior officer here?” Nestor spoke weakly.

“You can talk to me. What have you found?”

“Not much, Signor, in fact not anything yet. There was an explosion …” Nestor hesitated. His look was one of fear. “My men and I are all a bit … well … I must say this is very unique for Teramo. First we have the laboratory, then the officer shot dead and now
this
. This is a bomb, Signor … a bomb here! Is all of this to do with the laboratory? Is it to do with something over there?” Nestor was getting himself worked up and finally snapped, “We deserve to know! We have to notify the government departments!”

Delvechi didn’t snap at Nestor; he actually empathised with him. He too was desperately trying to make sense of things.

“Officer Nestor, I fully understand your feelings. But this is being handled. Firstly you know full well that you cannot notify anyone as it is our case.” Delvechi touched his badge. “We are working through this …”

“Working
through
this? Working
through
this?”

“Officer Nestor, I ask you to control yourself. It is a very serious matter and we have to keep united; it is part of a wider investigation. I assure you we are doing everything in our power to resolve this, but we can’t do that without your cooperation. You do want to capture the perpetrators, don’t you?”

Nestor restrained himself. “Of course, Signor.”

“Then please continue to do as we ask. Speak to no one, especially any media organisations, we do not want widespread panic. Tell some of your men to go home, keep a handful here and the rest can come back. I will talk with the emergency services, gather what I can before the official report is produced, but then I will sit with you at the station and we can go over details … ok?”

Nestor was overcome with fatigue; he seemed to have barely enough energy to nod. He slinked away back to his men.

Delvechi was swinging in the dark, piecing the jigsaw together bit by bit; it was a putrid image that he was assembling. He felt the sweat building on the small of his back.
I must tell a superior officer …
every time the thought appeared so did the words of the family in Battaglia.

He knew what he needed to do but he couldn’t bring himself to confront it. He was willing it not to be so, but no matter how he tried to rearrange the pieces they always made the same conclusive picture. Who the hell is going to be next?

59.

Luke knew that L’Aquila was the capital of the Abruzzo region but stood in the piazza he did not get that impression. The city had been the victim of a devastating earthquake a few years earlier and it was clear it was still attempting to rebuild.

The taxi driver had given Luke directions to the address, it was east of the piazza. on the Via Fortebraccio. The ache in Luke’s leg was intense and he decided to rest on a bench before making any moves.

The most intense feeling was one of frustration; he was a step behind; the Iranians seemed to have a stronghold in Teramo and had been constantly one step ahead. It was not good enough to just neutralise the threat because he had no idea how far the threat had spread.
Do they have the technology and want to destroy the work happening at Gran Sasso? Or are they still trying to discover and steal?
If a nation as unstable as Iran could copy the experiment then the consequences didn’t bear thinking about
. Could this whole thing be energy-based?

Iran was incredibly dependent on the export of oil, and therein lay their ultimate grievance with the Western economies, who for the majority of the twentieth century were the largest importers of the black gold. In recent times the West flexed their might on several occasions by imposing import bans on Iranian oil to get what they wanted, essentially strangling Iran financially. The motive fit.
Fission,
the thought came into his mind and it sent a chill to think what they would be capable of.

Then he remembered Iran was not the only entity in the equation.
North Korea
; it was widely known within the intelligence community that North Korea was a rapidly growing threat. They had carried out several covert nuclear tests, and it was a reality that they now had the capability to produce large-scale nuclear weapons. Breathing deeply and trying to get focused, Luke rubbed his leg. His hearing was slightly muffled but livable. His head had a dull ache from the blow he had taken in the café. Sometimes he wondered how his body still held together.

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