Game of Shadows (5 page)

Lucerne, Switzerland

Sean shuddered and woke abruptly as Emily guided the car out of a mountain tunnel and into the outskirts of Lucerne. He'd leaned his chair back a few hours before, with the permission of his boss, and taken a nap. The journey from Frankfurt to Lucerne was drivable in just under four hours. It seemed like a long time to be in a car, even considering the speeds the Autobahn allowed.

He rubbed his eyes and looked around. During the course of the journey from Frankfurt into Switzerland, the weather had cleared up. The sun shone brightly in a nearly cloudless blue sky. The city of Lucerne had been built at the base of the Swiss Alps and next to Lake Lucerne. It was truly one of the most spectacular locations for a city he'd ever seen. The high mountain peaks of Pilatus, and Rigi farther off, accompanied by several other majestic hills surrounding the city, provided epic views from nearly every angle.

"Whoever the original settlers of this town were sure could pick the spots," Sean commented dryly.

"Indeed," Emily agreed. "You snored a little," she jabbed changing the subject.

"Did I?" He sounded embarrassed, but she knew better.

"Yeah, but that's good. Means you were tired and needed the rest."

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm starting to remember why I got out of all this running around the world crap."

"One day back on the job and you're already complaining again?" she continued her attack.

"No. And I've been working for the last week, just so you know." He tried to add a smattering of being insulted to his defense, but it had no effect on the director.

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Agent Zero." She twisted her head toward him and winked. He didn't respond, instead shaking his head and looking out the window again.

She navigated the traffic lights and around the Reuss River that wound its way through the middle of the bustling city. People filled the cafes, restaurants, coffee shops, and boutiques lining the sidewalks along the riverfront. The famous Chapel Bridge spanned the river. It was one of the largest covered wooden footbridges in the world. Next to it, founded in the rushing water, was a hexagonal stone chapel.

The bridge suffered a great deal of damage in 1993 when a fire destroyed many of the old paintings that hung from the bridge's ceiling, but the structure itself remained intact, and renovation efforts had it looking like brand new. Red and white flowers lined the bridge's railing in long, wooden flower boxes.

Emily drove the car past the bridge and into the business center of the city. Banks seemed to occupy every corner in the downtown district, a symbol of Switzerland's dominance in the world of finance. Next to them, appropriately, were several jewelry stores and high-end clothiers, along with a few fancier restaurants.

Just past the center of town, Emily found a parking spot outside a tall, gray apartment building. A flat metal awning extended out over the entryway.

"This is Dr. Ott's apartment," Emily said. "And it's where I have to drop you off."

She handed Sean a key and a Post-it Note with a number on it. "That is the key to Ott's apartment, and the apartment number. Take a look around, and see if you can find anything."

"I'm sure the local police have already done a thorough job of screwing the place up."

"Probably. But it doesn't mean you shouldn't try. It's the first place we should look. Maybe you'll get lucky and find a lead."

He had a precarious look on his face. "And if I don't?"

She shrugged. "Then we'll have to try another angle. For now, though, we don't have another angle. Let me know if you find anything. But keep communication to a minimum. Same protocol as before. You're pretty much on your own with this."

He gave a solemn nod. "Understood."

Sean opened the door and got out, and she exited the driver's side. He stood on the sidewalk for a second and took inventory of his surroundings. A busy coffee shop across the street served a few dozen people inside and six or seven on the streetside tables. A music store, a shop that sold women's clothing, a bakery, and another bank rounded out the opposite side of the road's buildings. He scanned the faces of the passersby, but no one seemed to be paying him any mind.

Emily hit the remote lock on the keys and tossed them over to Sean. He snatched them out of the air and glanced at her questioningly.

"I've got another ride," she said. A second later, a silver BMW of the same make zipped around the corner and stopped on the street. "This one doesn't belong to us," she said, pointing at the black sedan. "So don't be too rough on it." She thought about it for a second and changed her mind. "On second thought, go nuts."

Emily opened the passenger door to the silver car and got in.

He didn't say goodbye to his friend, instead closing the door and turning around to face the apartment building. The BMW's engine revved, and the driver whipped the car back into traffic. Sean watched as the car disappeared around the corner, turning right to loop around and head back toward Germany.

At least he wouldn't have to find a ride if he needed one. Even though it was late spring and sunny, the temperature was fairly cool, for which Sean was grateful since it meant he could wear a jacket and a shoulder holster for his pistol. Despite having a license to kill, he preferred not to telegraph the fact that he was armed to the entire populace of Switzerland. He'd rather not do that anywhere he went, but certain countries had a skeptical view of carrying weapons. The irony was that Switzerland had a stellar reputation for making quality guns.

He zipped up his black jacket a little tighter and headed for the apartment complex entrance.

Inside the metal-and-glass entrance, he found a wide foyer with black and white tiles lining the floor. Two sets of elevators were at the far end. To the right, a wall full of bronze mailboxes nestled between a few fake plants in what he assumed were fake Ming-style vases resting on the floor.

He glanced back down at the piece of paper in his hand: #
529.
Clutching the key in the same hand, he walked steadily over to the elevator and hit the call button. A second later, the doors to his left opened, and he pressed the button for the fifth floor.

The elevator ride was short. When the doors opened again, he found himself in a hallway that extended to the left and right. A sign with two arrows directed visitors as to which way each apartment grouping was located. The one he was looking for was to the right.

He made his way down the hallway. Silver light fixtures with matted glass cast a pale glow into the hall, combined with the sunlight from windows at each end. Sean counted the numbers until he reached the one marked 529. He slid the key into the lock and turned it cautiously. There had been situations in the past where other agents had barged into a locked room only to find a hit squad waiting for them. Sometimes, it wasn't as obvious as an unlocked door or evidence of forced entry. Sometimes, villains were clever. As he eased the door open, he simultaneously drew his pistol. This version of his Springfield XD was compact, with a lengthened grip on the clip for better stabilization. With no silencer attached, he prayed silently that he wouldn't have to use it. Firing a weapon like that in close quarters could do severe long-term damage to human hearing.

Sean shook off the random thoughts.
Stay focused,
he told himself. He led with his pistol, keeping it out in front as he pushed across the threshold. Inside, he found something he hadn't really expected. The apartment was in good order. The black couch was pressed neatly against the wall. A small metal writing desk with a glass top sat next to it. A few documents lay on top, but the rest of the letters and other paperwork were organized and placed in slots on a shelf that ran along the back edge. Either whoever kidnapped Dr. Ott was mindful enough to put everything back where they found it, or the police screwed up the scene.

It looked as if no one had searched the place, though. As he recalled the information Emily had given him, that notion actually made sense. She'd said that Ott was taken while at her research laboratory. That meant the Black Ring might not have even come here. Why would they? If they had Ott, they wouldn't need anything from here.

He closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it again just in case someone was following. To the left was a small bathroom. It was minimally decorated, white walls and tiles, an ordinary glass shower, and a small washer and dryer next to the sink. He crept deeper into the apartment, keeping his weapon drawn and ready. Around the entryway corner, he found a small kitchen with white, Swedish-modern cabinetry, a matching white bistro table with two chairs and a stainless refrigerator. Through a pair of double doors, a balcony opened up with a view of downtown Lucerne. Through some of the canyons of buildings, he could get a peek at sections of the Reuss River.

A loud clicking sound came from a room off to the right of the living room. Sean raised his gun and aimed it through an open doorway. He could see the corner of a bed on the other side. Light poured into the bedroom from a window that was out of his line of sight. But in the light, he noticed a shadow moving around.

He stepped cautiously, careful not to make a noise on the faux wood flooring as he approached the bedroom door. He heard the noise again. It sounded like someone rummaging around just around the corner of the bedroom. When he reached the doorframe, he paused for a second, forcing himself to breathe calmly. Then he whipped the pistol around the corner and checked every corner of the room within two seconds. He saw what was causing the noise and lowered his gun. A pigeon was occasionally tapping on the window with its wings as the bird fluttered them.

Sean sighed. "Stupid bird," he said to himself.

The bedroom was as simply decorated as the rest of the home. A flat black floor bed sat low in the center of the room against the back wall. The sheets were plain white. A few black-and-white paintings hung on the wall across from the footboard. Another bathroom, the master, was situated through a narrow doorway to the left. Across from it was a small closet.

"It's like looking at the IKEA catalogue in here," he muttered.

Although one thing did seem out of place: Next to a black dresser, a wooden desk sat at an angle in the corner. It didn't match any of the other decor, and was clearly much older than everything else in the place. It had a main drawer and two lower drawers on either side of the sitting area.

Keeping his weapon low, but still at the ready, Sean walked over to the bathroom and checked inside, then checked the closet, just in case. Both were clear. He shoved the weapon back in its holster and walked back to the living room. He flipped open a black organizer and searched through some of the entries. Most of Dr. Ott's calendar was open, save for a few meetings she'd written down with other doctors. They must have been research scientists like her.

He closed the organizer and started sifting through some of the other papers and letters on the desk. There were utility bills, a medical bill for a routine checkup, a few pieces of correspondence for new credit cards, and a subscription renewal form for a scientific journal he'd never heard of.

None of it was helpful.

Sean walked over to the kitchen and searched through the drawers, pulling them out one at a time. Again he found nothing, only silverware, a typical kitchen drawer full of scissors, pens and tape, and one with a few hand towels in it.

He rubbed his eyes for a moment then pinched his nose. "What were you working on, Dr. Ott, that got you into so much trouble?"

His voice bounced around the room, but the walls had no answer.

Sean walked back into the bedroom and over to the dresser. He felt a little odd about going through a strange woman's personal things, but if she'd hidden something there, he needed to find it.

Panties and socks filled the top drawer,  which he quickly closed when he realized there was nothing else in there. The second drawer proved equally embarrassing for him and just as disappointing. All he could find were brassieres, pantyhose, and a few more items of underwear that were a little more risqué.

He shook his head as he closed the second drawer. "Sorry, Dr. Ott," he said quietly.

The contents of the lower two drawers were less personal, jeans and T-shirts for the most part. But still, nothing of interest in regard to why the Black Ring would have taken the scientist.

Sean scratched his head. It was one of the most sterile scenes he'd ever investigated. Not a single clue as to what Dr. Ott had been working on or why she'd been kidnapped. The next place he'd need to look would be the research lab. That would be information he'd need to get from the report Emily had emailed him.

He started to take out his phone to check the email when he remembered he'd not checked the antique desk in the corner. He took a few steps over to it and pulled the matching chair out from under the seating spot. He sat down and tugged on the middle drawer. Inside were old black-and-white photos of people he didn't recognize, probably some of her old relatives. From the clothes they wore, it appeared that the pictures were probably taken around the 1930s or early 40s. There was a young man with dark hair and round spectacles with a woman of roughly the same age. In some of the pictures, the man was in a white lab coat. There were a few of the couple together, including one that must have been their wedding day.