7

ROOFTOP. SOUTHAMPTON, ENGLAND.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 10, 1912. 10:10 A.M.

The Agent stood atop a building overlooking the Southampton harbor. His perch was the perfect vantage point to watch a line of fidgeting third-class passengers boarding the ship. Gawkers clapped along with the band, competing with screeching gulls and the cheering crowd to create a boisterous din.

It had been seven years since the pogrom in Kishinev destroyed his life. He hated Weiss for delaying his revenge even one day longer. The wait would end today. The traitor hadn’t shown himself as yet, but he would.

The Agent was confident he could spot Theodor Weiss in the black of night during a thunderstorm, and on this morning, the bright sun shone in a clear blue sky. Weiss would travel as a third-class passenger: scientists were logical to a fault. To disappear, he’d pick the most unassuming form of passage. Weiss was among this crowd; of that, the Agent was certain.

No one who knew the real Vitaly Jadovsky would mistake the Agent for the propagandist, but a bit of disguise went a long way. The Agent was now a fair match for the Russian’s grainy passport photo. Dressed in a black top coat with black tie and gray whiskers (attached to his chin with spirit gum), he should easily pass through customs. Then again, perhaps he wouldn’t need to …

For there was Weiss!

The Agent established the vial’s hiding place instantly—in the worn black satchel the scientist clutched tightly in his left hand. Even from the rooftop, the Agent could see the tension in Weiss’s fist and forearm.

The Agent swiftly made his way to street level and entered the moving current of the crowd, keeping Weiss in his sights. The scientist was clearly traveling alone, with no companion to call for help or play the hero. Perfect. The raucous mob scene provided sufficient cover, but also a logistical problem: How to snatch the bag with the least fuss and fewest witnesses?

Closing in on his target, the Agent quickly considered his options. Killing Weiss was best, but it was unlikely to go unnoticed or unchallenged in such a crowd. It was also risky to murder the defector before the Agent was certain he had the Toxic. After the ruse with the dummy vial on Brocken Mountain, the Agent could not dismiss the possibility that Weiss might pull the trick again. The simplest ploy was to knock down Weiss from behind, then grab the bag in the confusion and quickly disappear into the masses. If the Agent couldn’t steal and authenticate the Toxic before the ship sailed, he’d finish his business on board.

A steam whistle let out a blast. His whole body went taut. He was within thirty feet of Weiss—only to be brought to a dead stop by an unacceptable development.