Pressure (21 page)

“We really should get back to work, Carrie,” he said. “I'd like to finish analyzing this before the end of the day. Can you check the video camera? We'll want to make sure it's still functioning correctly before we begin this next part.”

“Sure,” Carrie said, nodding.

She tried to remain upbeat and positive throughout the remainder of the day, but it quickly became clear to her that she had upset Dr. Barbet. They still spoke, but his tone and demeanor were perfunctory and professional, without his usual friendliness. Assuming she must have touched on a sore spot, Carrie let it go. His husband probably wasn't thrilled with the long hours the doctor was putting in here at the clinic, and obviously the adoption process had suffered some setbacks. It wasn't her place to pry. Instead, she focused on helping out, and learning what she could about the creatures.

*   *   *

She met Abhi for dinner in the cafeteria. That evening's offerings were chicken parmesan or seafood salad. Carrie chose to pass on both and went with the salad bar instead. Abhi, on the other hand, opted for a helping of both main courses, but somewhat surprisingly, he didn't eat much of either. Instead, he listlessly pushed the food around on his plate, like a child trying to convince their parents they'd eaten more than they had. Carrie noticed that he wasn't as talkative and outgoing as normal, either. More worrisome, he kept glancing around the cafeteria, as if looking for someone.

“Are you okay?” she asked, finally.

“Sure.”

He nodded, but Carrie remained unconvinced.

“It's just that you haven't eaten much,” she said. “Normally, you would have inhaled that plate by now and gone back for seconds.”

“I had a late lunch,” Abhi replied. “I guess I'm just not hungry now. My eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

His tone was flat, and he didn't look at her while he spoke. Instead, his gaze continued to flick around the room. Carrie glanced around, trying to be inconspicuous, but saw no cause for concern or alarm. The cafeteria was barely occupied. In addition to Abhi and herself, three nurses sat at one table, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. The only other people present were the cashier and the chef behind the counter.

What the hell is with everybody today?
Carrie thought. Everyone must be just restless, she decided. Perhaps cabin fever was setting in. Especially in Abhi's case, since he had nothing to do all day. Carrie resolved to mention it to Barbet and Ochse. There was no reason Abhi should have to stay here any longer, now that the media's interest in the crash had faded.

“You miss your paint thinner, don't you?” Carrie teased, hoping to illicit a smile or maybe even a laugh.

Instead, Abhi uncharacteristically ignored the playful comment, and glanced down at her tray.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Let's clear off our trays.”

Without another word, he stood up abruptly, and carried his still nearly full tray across the cafeteria, weaving around the tables. Frowning, Carrie did the same, following along behind him. She watched Abhi slow down as he passed beneath a fire sprinkler in the ceiling. He glanced up at it, and then quickly away. His posture stiffened. Her concern for him deepened. It occurred to Carrie that perhaps the older man was suffering some form of post-traumatic stress disorder, brought on by their multiple encounters with—and narrow escapes from—the creatures haunting the trench. Abhi had lived an adventurous life, but he'd also been through a lot these last few weeks. Maybe the strain had finally gotten to him.

“Abhi, are you sure you're feeling okay?”

He didn't respond, and instead of turning around, he quickened his pace. Carrie followed him to an alcove where diners were supposed to leave their trays, plates, cups, and utensils for the staff to carry to the dishwasher. A small window offered a view of the kitchen. Next to the window was a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. Abhi sat his tray down and nodded at a woman in the kitchen. As Carrie placed her tray in front of the window, the woman walked out of sight. A second later, the door opened.

“Ah,” Abhi exclaimed, suddenly sounding like his normal, exuberant self. “Rosalina! How nice to see you again. Carrie, come here. I want to introduce you to a new friend of mine.”

Rosalina was middle-aged and rotund, and although she smiled at Abhi, she didn't respond to him. She simply held the door open and impatiently motioned at them to step through. Abhi did. After a moment's hesitation, Carrie followed.

“Carrie, this is Rosalina. Rosalina, this is my friend Carrie I was telling you about.”

“Hello,” Carrie said to the woman as the door shut behind them. “It's nice to meet you.”

Rosalina didn't respond. Indeed, she didn't seem to acknowledge Carrie at all.

“She doesn't speak much English,” Abhi said, “so don't be offended.”

Without giving them another glance, Rosalina wandered back over to the window and retrieved their trays. Then she hustled them off to the dishwasher.

The kitchen was hot, humid, and noisy. A large exhaust fan in the ceiling seemed to do little in the way of clearing the atmosphere, and instead, thrummed like a jet engine. The dishwasher rattled and boomed. Carrie's sense of smell was assaulted from all sides with a bewildering array of aromas, simultaneously mouth-watering and repulsive. Chicken parmesan and marinara sauce lingered strongly in the air, but so did the stench of garbage and chemical cleaners. Steam seemed to cling to everything, and already her hair felt damp and limp.

“Abhi.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the clatter. “What are we doing back here?”

“I wanted to introduce the two of you to each other.”

“Isn't that what you just did? She didn't seem particularly excited to meet me.”

“Aye. Well … come on. This way.”

Abhi led her past a massive industrial oven, and a long counter littered with the aftermath of an afternoon of food preparation. Carrie turned back to look at Rosalina, but the woman had already disappeared, apparently having work to do elsewhere in the labyrinthine kitchen. Abhi stopped in front of a pantry door, and glanced around. Then, apparently satisfied, he opened the door and motioned for Carrie to walk inside. She did, but the pantry was dark.

“Abhi, I can't see shit. And to be honest, I'm not in the mood for jokes anymore. What's this all about?”

“Hold on.”

He shut the door, plunging them both into total blackness. Carrie heard him fumbling against the wall. A second later, he found a light switch and flicked it. Carrie squinted against the sudden glare. Then she gasped in surprise. The pantry was a huge, walk-in affair, with floor to ceiling shelving on both sides, packed with an assortment of bulk-sized canned and dry goods. Standing in the center of it was Dr. Barbet.

“Are we having a party?” she quipped, recovering from her initial surprise and annoyance.

“Did you tell her anything?” Barbet asked Abhi.

“Nothing yet,” he replied, coming around to stand at Carrie's side. “I figured it best to wait until we were all together.”

“Good.”

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Carrie demanded. “Both of you have been acting weird all day, and no offense, but I think we're all a little bit too old to be hiding from the adults.”

“Please,” Barbet said. “Keep your voice down. This is one of the few places I'm absolutely sure isn't under surveillance, but we should still use an abundance of caution while we talk.”

“Under surveillance?”

He nodded. “This entire facility is monitored. Alpinus has cameras and microphones in every room—hidden in the sprinkler systems, the ventilation shafts, the waiting rooms and lounges, even the televisions. All incoming and outgoing calls are monitored, as well as all Internet traffic. They even have aerial drones monitoring the outside grounds. The only place I know for sure isn't monitored is this pantry and the food-prep freezer.”

She pointed to the grille of a ventilation shaft above them. “What about that?”

“I removed the covering earlier and checked,” Barbet insisted.

“Maybe I should start at the beginning?” Abhi said.

“Yes,” Carrie replied. “Maybe you'd better.”

“This morning,” Abhi said, “I noticed that all of the mercenaries from Takenaka's ship were gone.”

“I noticed that two of them were missing this morning, too,” Carrie said.

Barbet held up a finger, interrupting her. “Please. It is dangerous to stay in here for too long.”

“I thought you said it was safe?”

“They can't hear us, but if we're gone too long, and not showing up on any of the cameras, they'll notice we're missing.”

“At first,” Abhi continued, “I thought perhaps a few of the crew had recuperated and were discharged. But I'd gotten to know some of them over the past week. We'd been playing checkers and such. I mean, we're not friends, but they were polite enough. Social. You'd think at least some of them would have said goodbye. And then there were the ones who I know couldn't have recovered already. One of them, Etienne, this ex-French Legionnaire, had two broken legs, several broken ribs, and a broken collar bone. The man was in traction yesterday, but when I went to his room this morning, he was gone. When I asked the nurses about it, they didn't have any answers. When I pressed them, they were vague. I didn't get the idea they were lying to me, necessarily. It was more like they were just as confused as I was. That made me curious. So, I started checking around, and when I found out that all of the mercenaries were gone, I went to Dr. Barbet.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Carrie asked.

“You were with Paolo,” Abhi replied. “I didn't want to trouble you. At least, not until I'd found out what was going on. There's no reason to hit the panic button if there's not really a panic. But I'm coming to you now, right?”

“So, where did they all disappear to?”

“They took them out last night,” Barbet confirmed.

“Who did?”

“Ochse and his men. Alpinus security. And they weren't transferred to another hospital. If they had been, there would have been some record of it. I would have had to sign off on all discharge and transfer papers. Also, if they had been moved to other medical facilities, private or otherwise, they would have been transported in ambulances. For the number of patients we're talking about, that would have involved a caravan. Nobody saw anything like that. They were secretly removed from this facility overnight. One of my nurses saw it, but was too afraid to say anything about it to anyone, at first. She's a single mother with three children and she doesn't want to lose her job.”

“What did she see?” Carrie asked.

“She said Ochse and his people took them all down to the loading docks and put them all into black vans. She didn't see where they went after that. She said the patients didn't seem concerned, and seemed to be going along voluntarily. We have to assume that either Ochse made a deal with them, or lied to them about their destination. I'm guessing it is the latter.”

“So, where are they now?”

“I don't know,” Barbet replied.

“See, I think you do know,” Carrie pressed. “I think you know a lot more than you're telling us, Doctor. You seem like a good guy. Whatever it is that's really happening here, I don't think you like it. I don't know—maybe your conscience is bothering you after our talk in the lab, but there's a reason you're here with us now.”

“Of course there is. After our discussion this afternoon, I had one of the nurses whom I trust slip Abhi a note, advising him of the surveillance procedures, and giving him instructions on when and how to meet.”

“Then why lie to us about where Takenaka's crew are?”

“I'm not lying about that. I don't know where they are.”

“You're not lying about that?” Carrie stepped closer to him, backing the doctor into the corner. “Then what are you lying about?”

Barbet seemed to deflate. His shoulders slumped and his face fell.

“Quite a bit,” he admitted, “I've been lying all week, to you both, and to Paolo, as well.”

Carrie stared him in the eyes. “About what?”

“About many things. Especially Paolo, and about his condition.”

“He's not improving, is he? Even with the antivenom?”

Barbet averted his gaze and stared at the floor. “No, I'm afraid he's not.”

“You son of a bitch … why would you lie to us about that?”

“Because Alpinus threatened me. Ochse said if I didn't do what they wanted, they'd make sure Paul got deported, and make sure our adoption process was unsuccessful. And they could. They could easily follow through on that.”

“Who's Paul?” Abhi asked.

“His husband,” Carrie replied. “What do they have on him, Doctor? I'm assuming it's some kind of blackmail?”

“Yes, although it feels more like bullying to me. Paul … he got into some trouble when he was younger, years before we met. It involved kickbacks and graft for a building he was designing. As I said, this happened years ago, and there was never a conviction. There's no record of it. But Alpinus knows about it, and they have access to certain documents and e-mails that the authorities never obtained.”

“So they're a bunch of blackmailing bastards,” Carrie said. “Okay. And I'm betting they lied about never receiving the egg, too.”

Still staring at the floor, Barbet nodded in resignation.

“Those fuckers.” Carrie spat. “I knew it. I knew I was right! Ochse was so condescending, insisting that I must have misheard them—that I was mistaken. And you went along with that, Doctor.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. I understand why now. But that still doesn't explain why they lied about the egg in the first place, and it especially doesn't explain why they wanted you to conceal the truth about Paolo's prognosis. Why would they want us to think he was getting better if he wasn't?”