Zero Alternative (24 page)

He shrugged and returned to the fridge to pour himself another vodka, struggling to keep his hand steady. Images flashed by of her smile and her naked body, of her vulnerability during the boat trip and of the hard, unflinching toughness she could turn on like a shield. There was something magnetic, almost too hard to…

The bedroom door reopened and this time the music pounded louder, a South American beat drumming below flutes and eerie high-pitched voices. Layla approached him, wearing only a sheer silk vest and panties, her long legs encased in thigh-high fishnet stockings. Her hair hung loose again, back down below her shoulders. Walker felt his mouth go dry and waited for her to reach him, still feeling a little uncertain.

Layla stopped just a few inches away and his breath caught, just as a strand of her dark hair brushed his face – electricity seemed to pass between them, though they had not touched yet.

‘Are you still hungry, then?’

‘Yes,’ he said, staring into her eyes, finally ready to ignore the tendril of nervousness that lingered in his stomach. ‘Are you?’

‘No. But I think I’m in love.’

Walker shivered, felt his hands go cold. ‘Then that makes two of us.’

Her mouth came up to meet his and they kissed hungrily, falling to the floor.

Walker woke from a nightmare, his heart thumping. He glanced to his side but Layla was fast
asleep, shifting a little as he slid his arm from under her and sat up to check the time. 2.37 a.m. – and he was wide awake.
Great
. Cursing under his breath he dragged back the blankets, bending lower to give Layla a soft kiss before shuffling to the living room.

He managed to find his cigarettes in the dark and fired up DeepShare, spending a few minutes scanning the processes the software was running. The Pienaar file wasn’t ready yet, most of the results still in machine-code that DM had presumably been capable of reading, but that were far too difficult for Walker to decipher. He checked the logs: Omega thought the search should be completed in another four hours.

Which meant sleep would be hard. But after twenty minutes of fruitless clicking and studying an increasingly blurry screen Walker yawned and gave up, deciding to return to bed. He was about to open the heavy wooden door when he heard a soft noise from inside and stopped still, trying to identify it.

Was that… sniffling?

It took a second before he realised what it was. She must have been crying softly, trying not to be heard. Not knowing what to do, he went back to the sofa and lit another cigarette.
Why?

Chapter Thirteen

Truth

The sky outside still shone with a few stars when Walker gave up trying to sleep and returned to the living room, his hands tingling with anticipation. Deep had to be done by now. He logged onto his computer and connected the tablet, waiting for the software somewhere in the Cloud to respond. Within a few seconds the icon of a new file named PIENAAR appeared and he grinned, clicking on it and whispering, ‘Let’s see what we’ve found, you son-of-a-bitch.’

The data started with biographical information and childhood stuff, progressively going deeper with an astonishing amount of information. Walker was shocked by how comprehensive Omega seemed to be, and once again he marvelled at how DM had managed to extract order out of data chaos. Then a section towards the end caught his eye and he froze, before clicking through links and nodes in a frenzy.

Please, no
.

Walker heard the bedroom door open and raised his head from his hands, struggling to keep calm. He stood up and switched off the monitor, gazing at Layla. His throat caught at how beautiful she looked, with just a white sheet wrapped around her naked body. He steadied his voice and took a step towards the window, forcing himself to stare outside.

‘Why now?’ he said.

Layla must have noticed his tone, and she answered tentatively. ‘What… what do you mean?’

‘You knew Pienaar from before, didn’t you?’

She didn’t reply. Walker turned back, his anger building as he saw her biting at her lower lip.

‘How…?’ she whispered.

‘Deep found the connection once I ran his name and face. It thinks you’ve known him since Mexico. And the guy is part of the Blackspring network. You’ve worked for them, too.’ Walker
paused, sucking some air in. ‘I can’t believe it – they’re mercenaries, people too damaged even for the special forces.’

Layla nodded imperceptibly, looking down at her feet, silent.

Walker kept staring at her, his insides twisting. There were so many things he wanted to ask, explanations he wanted. But only the important stuff mattered now. He had wasted enough time, and the wolf could be just around the door. Still, there were things he needed to know.

‘Were you there when they killed DM? Did you help them?’ he spat.

She shook, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. ‘Oh God, no. I only found out later, when I brought your computer to Pienaar. I had nothing to do with it, I swear.’

‘But you returned to look for me. Why?’

She grabbed a chair and sat down, elbows on the table, her hands going up to her face. ‘Pienaar realised immediately you didn’t have DeepShare on your machine. They were going to come after you, but I asked them to let me try and get the access my way.’

‘So you were trying to help me?’ Walker groaned, a bitter taste in his mouth. ‘Protecting me from the monster?’

‘I… I didn’t want to see anyone else hurt. Pienaar is dangerous, mad.’

That he could believe. But she was only telling him half-truths, he could feel it. There had to be more, and though it hurt, he needed to dig deeper. His very life might depend on it, not just his feelings.

‘Very noble,’ he said flatly. ‘And you wanted your money, I guess. More, probably, if you got them whatever I knew.’

‘They agreed to give me a few days… Pienaar planted the blood in your flat to give you a push. And yes, more money. But…’

‘I don’t care.’ Walker turned back towards the window, his hands holding onto the sill as he shook. ‘So Reims was a set-up as well, your wound…’

‘No!’

‘Come on.’

‘No,
please
. I had no idea, I guess something changed and they decided to track us down. Maybe they were in a hurry, I don’t know…’

‘Then how did they find us?’

‘Your phone, no?’

Walker snapped back, feeling colder now. She was not giving him the full story, and he was too shocked to think clearly. He’d had enough. ‘A Dorfmann secure BlackBerry? I can’t believe I fell for that. How the fuck would they trace it?’

Layla stood and took a step towards him but he held up his hands, freezing her into place. ‘I… maybe they have someone on the inside,’ she said.

‘You’re not that good when you have to make up lies on the spot.’

‘I almost died after Reims. Please, Scott, don’t do this. You can’t think…’

‘
No
. I couldn’t think before. But maybe now I’m starting to.’ He glanced outside, concentrating on the darkening clouds. It was time to find out the rest, if he could. If she’d tell him. ‘Are they coming here?’

‘I haven’t spoken to them since London –’

Again Walker lifted his hand, still looking away. It could be true. ‘Did you send them stuff from my tablet?’

‘No.’

‘Then why are you here?’ he growled. ‘Why did you tell me his name?’

Tears ran slowly down her cheeks. She didn’t try to wipe them away. ‘Everything since Reims has been real. You have to believe me. I… I want to help you.’

‘Shut up.’

‘Please. I know you can’t trust me now, but I gave you Pienaar’s name because… to help you bring these bastards down. I
was
afraid DeepShare might find out, I just hoped I had a little more time to make you understand.’

‘Understand what?’

‘It – it’s not been easy. But I’m in love with you now, and…’ She trailed off, uncertain.

Walker sighed, lit a cigarette and blew out the hot smoke. It had sounded plausible, in a way. But it was hard to tell – she had proven too good an actress till now. And he wasn’t going to risk it, not any more. He stared into her red-rimmed eyes and nodded, exhaling.

‘Fuck you. I never want to see you again.’

He picked up a small white envelope from the window sill and threw it at her feet. Layla glanced down, then up at him again.

‘It’s fifty thousand Euros,’ he said. ‘Take your fee, get dressed and disappear for a couple of hours. When you come back, I’ll be gone.’

Layla nodded, wiped away her tears and turned back to the bedroom. Before shutting the door she looked at him and whispered, ‘I understand. But I’ll wait for you. If you change your mind, if you need anything – I’ll be here.’

Walker flicked his cigarette out of the window and hurried to his computer, starting to pack the wires.

‘That’s going to be a long wait.’

Pienaar had thought several times about bailing and getting back to Africa in the past few days. He needed the money, but Europe was just too hard for him to stay long. His tastes couldn’t really be satisfied, and what he liked to do was considered uncivilized around here. Goddamn wimps, they just didn’t understand that man was either predator or prey. They had all their little laws and rules, but the beast could not be chained. Not for long, anyway
.

At least the Englishman had called at last: they were in a hurry, now. Desperate for results
.

That’s what he was good at
.

Pienaar smiled
–
organization, the right time and place, a bit of planning. All he needed, to get them results. And maybe have a little fun in the process
.

Siena

The beauty and uniqueness of Siena’s main square, Piazza del Campo, left Walker almost dazed as he sat at one of the outdoor bars and sipped a Campari soda without really tasting it. Throngs of people milled around the nine white-stone slashes in the travertine pavement near the ancient fountain and the central drain, weaving and talking, snatching pictures of the ancient palaces and homes, enjoying the early evening air.

Walker lit a cigarette and his mind bounced back to Layla again. He cursed himself in a low voice and finished his drink, signalling to the waiter for a second one. He needed to concentrate: Mosha would arrive soon and the Serb was going to need a lot of convincing. He opened his rucksack and took out DM’s tablet, making sure the connection to the mainframe was active before diving into the software, finally becoming engrossed just as a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

‘
Buonasera
,’ a gruff voice said.

Walker half-turned and nodded at Mosha, attempting a nervous smile. The last three years had apparently not been kind to his old classmate, who had gained a large amount of weight and shed most of his hair in return. Walker stood and shook his hand, uncertain about how to proceed.

Mosha took off his jacket and sat down, just as the waiter arrived with a drink. The big Serb took it, ordered another one and sighed, his expression grim.

‘So.’

‘It’s good to see you, man.’

‘Yeah. Can you tell me what the fuck is going on now? There’s all sort of stories, and the UK police seem pretty interested in talking to you.’

‘I didn’t kill DM Khaing.’

Mosha smiled crookedly, sipping his stolen drink. ‘Of course not. Who did?’

Walker slid his chair nearer and lowered his voice, their heads almost touching. He rushed through the events, leaving Layla mostly out of it. When he mentioned Pienaar’s name, and Blackspring, the Serb interrupted him, clearing his throat.

‘You’ve heard of him?’

‘Not the guy. But Blackspring – I’ve heard of them all right. Nasty muscle, many former black-ops. Active in Iraq, Afghanistan. They’re guns for hire: the darker the business the better they like it.’

‘I know. Could Frankel be using them?’

‘Sure. A lot of banks have, in the past. Surveillance, industrial espionage and worse. I looked to them too, once, but then…’ Mosha coughed, almost embarrassed. ‘We… decided to keep it in the family.’

Walker shivered. ‘Jesus. Do you think they can be linked?’

Mosha motioned for one of his cigarettes, lit it and took a long drag.

‘That might be hard.’ He paused for a second as Walker finished his drink. ‘The only ones who might be able to dig out something like that are the madmen at…’

The big Serb stopped suddenly and jerked to his feet, flashing a smile at someone sitting a few yards away.

‘Franco, good to see you!’ he said loudly.

The man, a well-dressed Italian in his mid-fifties, smiled back and looked about to come and join them. Mosha dropped a couple of banknotes on the table, then gestured apologetically. ‘I’m afraid I’ve gotta run,
Direttore
– but I’ll call you later.’

He picked up his jacket and glanced over, whispering, ‘Let’s get out of here. Everyone in Siena seems to work for their damn Colle Bank.’

Walker shrugged and they hurried across the square, heading for one of the little side streets leading away from the piazza.

The Range Rover entered the garage and the wide aluminum shutter started to close. Pienaar waited for a couple of seconds, his gun ready. As soon as he heard the car-door click open he rushed from behind a pile of old crates and slammed the panel into the driver. His timing was perfect and Luigi Seu shouted in pain, falling back on the seat
.

Pienaar pointed his Beretta at the man’s face, grinning
. ‘
Move slowly, you stupid fuck
.’

A dazed Luigi nodded and got out gingerly, and the big Australian readjusted his backpack, waiting. His gun didn’t waver, still trained on a spot just below the man’s nose. Luigi glanced at him, his hands fumbling with the keys
. ‘
What do you want?
’

‘
Just to talk
.’

‘
Are you…
’
The Italian’s voice shook
. ‘
Are you the one who killed DM?
’

Pienaar didn’t reply, shoving him through the side entrance and sending him sprawling to the floor. He slammed the door shut and glanced around, making sure they were alone in the house
.