INCEPTIO (Roma Nova) (12 page)

XXIX

How the fuck had she survived?

He’d ‘acquired’ the active ingredient via a contact at the East Coast Poison Center. There was no known antidote. Unless those Roma Novan bastards had one and kept it secret. Their scientists weren’t that advanced, were they? Renschman shivered. It was rare he experienced anything remotely related to doubt, let alone fear. Maybe he’d attacked somebody he couldn’t defeat.

He slammed his hand on his desk. A pen rolled off onto the floor. No, nobody was that invulnerable. Those bloody people had ruined his childhood. Now they were doing it again.

Half an hour later, he handed the new weapon back to the range master. Curious – the lightness made it feel like a toy. But the grip was like a standard-issue grunt sidearm he used in his twenties. Perfectly adequate to terminate a life.

XXX

I made my way to Grattius’s teaching room ten days after the attack. He gave his formal good wishes for my recovery and, a minute later, we resumed the punishing study schedule.

Two days later, he was making me sweat on a text about the treaty with the Ottomans after the fall of Constantinople when I heard boots thudding along on the tiled hallway. The door burst open and Dexia, of all people, rushed in.

‘Come with me now, please, Carina Mitela.’ Her face was deadly serious, almost frowning. She extended her hand as if she was going to grab my arm.

‘Captain,’ came Grattius’s calm voice, ‘kindly explain.’

‘Sir, we don’t have time. Sorry.’ She went to take my arm, but I stepped back.

‘Not until you tell me why.’

She looked impatient. ‘There’s an incident, downstairs, in the reception area, and I’m taking you to the safe room. Now.’

Two other soldiers fell in behind us and she hustled me along in the direction of the elevator.

‘Dexia, what’s happening?’

She didn’t answer. Her gaze was fastened on the elevator display panel flicking through the floors.

I stopped. ‘I am not going one step further until you tell me – now.’ I planted both feet on the ground and steadied myself by holding on to the gallery rail. A tingle passed across my shoulders like a little alarm, and my pulse speeded up. I had a really bad feeling about all this. The doors swished open.

‘Please get in. We’re trying to protect you.’

‘No. Not until you tell me.’ I searched her face for clues. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

‘Where is he? What’s happened to him?’ I grabbed hold of her arm and shook it.

She peeled my fingers off. ‘He’s fine; he’s got it all under control. Our orders are to take you to the safe room,’ Dexia persisted.

‘Screw your orders. I want to know. Now.’

‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ she said. She gazed into the distance. She nodded as if listening, but I didn’t see what to. ‘Very well,’ she said to nobody in particular. She glanced at me. ‘Not very. I suggest the security centre?’ She focused on something over my shoulder as she listened. ‘There in five. Out.’ She dropped her gaze to my face. ‘The situation’s stabilised, but still playing out. We’re going to the security centre where they’re monitoring it.’

She wheeled around abruptly and we rode down to the first floor, hurrying through an optical-controlled door into a plain room manned by beige uniforms, some sitting at desks but most in front of banks of monitors. The ambassador was there, her face tense, immobile. Favonius was bent over, hands braced on the desk in front of the monitors, talking to one of the soldiers. They both looked in my direction as I entered the room.

‘Carina,’ said Claudia. ‘Oh, my dear, come and sit down.’ She took my hand and led me to a table at the back, and seated me in a chair with its back to the monitors.

‘What’s going on?’

She looked directly at me and took both my hands in hers. ‘Two Americans with FBI ID came to deliver what they said was a subpoena ordering you to appear in the district court. The receptionist alerted the security office immediately.’ She relaxed her face a little. ‘It’s standard practice when any American law agency calls. We ensure we have one of ours present as a professional courtesy, if for nothing else. Captain Tellus was the duty officer. As soon as he entered the reception area and recognised Jeffrey Renschman, he sounded an immediate alert. Renschman drew a gun, but Tellus reacted very quickly and was only slightly wounded.’

The pattern of the floor tiles wobbled, swirling and merging for a few moments before it settled back into its original rigid state. I recovered my breath.

‘What’s…what’s happening now?’ I looked away from Cornelia, skewing around toward the monitors.

Faleria answered. ‘We think Renschman got past the scanner with a ceramic resin mix weapon. I didn’t know the Americans had developed them beyond the experimental stage.’ She shrugged. ‘If it’s a prototype, it won’t be too stable, so he may or may not be able to fire another shot.’

I swallowed hard. ‘Where’s Conradus now?’

‘Behind the reception desk with the staff,’ said Faleria.

I searched the monitors and saw him on the central one, crouching, poised on his toes behind the end of the counter, two other men huddling behind him. ‘We’ve moved up a support team, including a marksman to take Renschman out if necessary,’ continued Faleria.

‘So what now?’ I amazed myself, sounding so detached.

Before Faleria could answer, I heard Conrad’s disembodied voice over the monitor speakers.

‘Give it up, Renschman. There’s a SWAT team just behind that door, ready to take you out. You’re never going to win this one.’

‘Maybe, but I’ll take you with me. Your little tart will feel bad about that for the rest of her life. Serve the bitch right.’

My hand flew up to my mouth. I hunched back into my chair. Claudia squeezed my other hand in support.

Unbelievably, Conrad laughed. ‘We’re tougher than that, Renschman. And she’s more so, more than you’ll ever know. I’ll take the bullet for her any day to stop you. And if I can kill you on the way, then that’s a bonus.’

In the security room, heads turned in my direction, eyes fixing on me.

‘Fine words.’ Renschman’s voice grated. ‘You won’t risk it.’

I heard Conrad laugh again.

What was he on?

‘Now!’ came his whisper.

Barely a nanosecond later, Faleria spoke into the mic and the glass panel behind the front desk flew open. Renschman’s attention was momentarily diverted and Conrad leapt out at him. I heard two gunshots, a third, followed by the high-pitched explosion of breaking glass. Another, the deep crack of something heavier breaking. Armed soldiers burst into the reception area. More shots. The monitors filled with figures in combat fatigues, shouts accompanying their rapid movements. Within seconds it was over.

Faleria spoke a clipped command into the mic.

One of the soldiers trotted up to the camera and gave her report. ‘Area secured. One enemy light casualty, one secured, one friendly medium casualty, two civilians unhurt but in shock. Medics on their way.’

I closed my eyes. A hand on the back of my head forced it over, something touched my chest and I threw up into a wastepaper bin.

Dexia smiled down at me, wiped my mouth and gave me a plastic cup of water. Then I started shaking.

‘Calm down, Mitela, looks like a flesh wound. He’s tough as hell. He’ll be fine,’ she said.

Claudia Cornelia looked furious at Dexia’s casual tone. ‘That’s enough, Captain.’

‘No.’ I looked up at Dexia, then across at Claudia. ‘No, that’s okay. I want to see Conradus. Now.’

Dexia took me down to the wrecked reception. The dark glass wall was intact but the reception desk gaped open in two shattered halves, surrounded by an oval patch of splintered glass. Renschman and another suit were lying face down on the floor, handcuffed and guarded by soldiers. I stepped around the glass and damaged furniture. A medic was kneeling on the floor, back to me, obscuring a beige-clothed body, one of whose legs was bent up at the knee. Another medic was setting up a collapsible gurney. She clicked the lock into place, joined the other medic side by side and lifted the body across onto the gurney. When they raised it to waist level, I nearly passed out. Conrad lay on it, desperately still. A large pad secured with a bandage was tied around his upper leg. Red stains were spreading through the fabric of his beige pants either side of the pad. His face was pale, pulled into harsh lines, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. One of the medics finished tying a second bandage around Conrad’s upper arm. He half-opened his eyes, looked around and saw me.

‘Why aren’t you in the safe room?’ he croaked, and frowned at me.

‘Do you think I would go skulk there while you were in danger?’

He sighed. ‘It’s over. We’ve stopped him. Only sorry I didn’t get the chance to blow his head off.’

I stared at Renschman as he was pulled to his feet by two soldiers. As they took him away, he limped and stumbled. He threw me a venomous look. I flinched like he’d struck me in the face.

The medics had put up an IV drip for Conrad and wheeled him away, pushing through the chaos. I went to follow but a stretched arm prevented me.

Dexia. ‘Let them sort him out.’

Later that evening, I sat in the sick bay room I had left only a while ago, watching by his bed. Still pale, his skin sagged over his cheekbones. A plastic tube from his nose was taped above his lip, and the line from the IV drip was embedded in the back of his hand. Dark red stains under his fingernails from dried blood. The doctor had said the bullet had passed straight through his leg, avoiding bone or vital organs or veins. He would recover well because of his natural strength and acquired fitness, he said. But Conrad looked so ill and vulnerable, I didn’t believe him.

He ran a light fever but it subsided after forty-eight hours. On the following day, although he looked tired, he was half-sitting up and arguing with me.

‘Is it always going to be like this?’ I touched his forearm. ‘I mean, you getting shot, me having an anxiety attack?’

He laughed. ‘Well, it’s hardly likely to be the other way round, is it?’

‘I guess not.’

XXXI

I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Steven Smith the next afternoon. We sat in the birchwood conference room with Favonius, Sergia and Gaia. Yesterday’s attack had caused a monumental diplomatic row. It couldn’t be hushed up like the poison letter. The legation had sent a strong condemnation first thing that morning to the American Secretary Of External Affairs – Junior Hartenwyck’s father. In diplomatic speak, that ranked one below declaring war. An SUV had been allowed into the legation grounds earlier in the day, under guard, to collect Renschman and his colleague from the secure basement room where they’d spent the night.

I’d been petrified of being taken by Renschman on the outside, but somehow he’d got inside, into my safety cocoon. Twice. My head swam with reaction. I took another gulp of water. The July sunshine streamed through the window glass. I was grateful for the calming effect of the air-conditioning murmuring away in the background.

‘I think we’ll find they’re able to grant you a Certificate of Loss of Nationality immediately in return for the legation not publicising this incident.’

‘I just want it over, Mr Smith.’

‘I know. I do sympathise. I asked Favonius earlier today to insist they send a consular officer to hear your oath of renunciation within the next forty-eight hours. I understand this is scheduled for this afternoon.’

I looked up from my study of the table. ‘Thank you so much for your support through all this.’

‘My pleasure, Carina Mitela.’

I stared at him.

‘I know the certificate has to be issued, but it will be backdated to today. You’ll cease to be Karen Brown from this afternoon.’

The certificate arrived four days later; even the formidable Favonius was impressed. We stood by the railing on the walkway outside his office, looking down at the garden.

‘I’m sorry you’ll be leaving us so soon, Carina Mitela, but I’m delighted at the positive outcome.’ I was astonished at Favonius’s friendly tone.

‘Yes, it’s ended well.’ I looked him straight in the eye. ‘I trust all this hasn’t endangered your agreement with the External Affairs Department. You must have put in a lot of hard work on it.’

He went very still.

‘I’ve learnt one thing here that’s surprised me. I seem to be able to take life-threatening events in my stride. But then I come from tough stock.’

Now he knew.

‘I’ll be sure to let my grandmother know all about how you’ve supported me.’

I had a farewell meeting with Claudia Cornelia and her husband. He gave me his private email address.

‘Please don’t hesitate. I know what it’s like. There’ll be moments when you yearn for some trivial, stupid thing, like a Hershey bar.’

He laughed when I made a face at the thought.

‘No, truly.’ He became serious. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, I think you’ve come through a rough time very well. I envy you the journey of discovering the pleasures of Roma Nova. I lived there for four years with Claudia before she was posted here.’ He smiled. ‘When we arrived in Washington, I was excited to be returning “home” to the EUS, picking up with former colleagues and friends. But you know what? I was disappointed. I found it superficial. I missed the committed sense of community, of responsibility, if you like.’ He glanced over to Claudia. ‘We’ll be posted home to Roma Nova within the next two years, and I’ll be thankful to be back there.’

Was he pushing the official line, or saying it to make me feel better? Glancing at his serious face, I believed his words came from the heart.

Conrad and I left in the same formation as we had arrived – SUVs ahead and behind us. I turned and waved to Gaia Memmia, Aelia, standing next to her father, and Grattius. Political stuff aside, they – apart from Favonius – had given me not only friendship but their unstinting support. I was still as nervous as hell about going to Roma Nova. But not as relieved as shaking off the threat from Renschman.

On the way to Sterling Dulles, I looked at the olive leather-bound book Grattius had given me as we shook hands under the legation portico. It was a set of Catullus’s love poems. What an old romantic. Conrad considered some of them were a bit ripe, but I didn’t care – it was a lovely gesture. A good way to enter my new life.