27
First Charlie had to go see a guy about a job.
The villa held sixteen bedrooms on the top two floors. Since there were only seven scientists, they all slept on the floor holding the kitchen and the parlor. The upstairs bedrooms were used for monitoring ascents. Almost half the bedrooms, including the extra ones along the servants’ corridor, remained empty.
Brett had naturally taken the largest for himself. The room even had two sets of tall French doors with balconies looking north and east. As Charlie hoped, Brett was seated at his desk. Not packing. Not doing anything.
Charlie did not go hard. He did not push. He took the same tone of voice he’d used a hundred times before. Brett was just another soldier Charlie wanted to re-up. The last thing he could show such a guy was how desperately he was needed.
Charlie said, “I’d appreciate it if you did something for me.”
Brett sneered. “What, now you’re trying to get on my good side?”
“I’m not sure you have one. And if you did, I’m not sure it’d be worth trying to find.”
Brett turned his face back to the grey day beyond his window. “Whatever.”
“Make a list of the top people in your field.”
“What?”
“Biochemistry related to the brain, right? Focus on the ones who are between jobs. Make a check mark by those you feel are most qualified to take your place.”
Brett was watching him now. The fact sank in. “You’re replacing me?”
“I just want to be ready when you cut and run. That’s what you’re sitting here planning to do, right? Leave your teammates at a crucial point and bolt. Show them just how trustworthy you really are.” Charlie stared down at him for a moment, his gaze saying what any officer knew how to communicate without words, which was, There’s more where that came from.
When Brett remained silent, Charlie let himself out.
Either it worked or it didn’t.
The main room they used for ascents was located next to the techies’ chamber, so the monitoring equipment could be wired in and the events recorded. The upstairs rooms were somewhat cramped, with narrow windows and a ceiling that leaned inward to match the roof’s slope. Gabriella clearly had not slept well and still carried traces of that shattered look. When she asked if he would make the ascent for them, Charlie readily agreed.
Gabriella settled the headphones onto his ears and asked, “Can you hear me?”
“Five by five.”
“Shall I close the drapes?”
“No need.” The day had grown darker still. Charlie shifted his weight to fit around a lump in the old mattress. The room smelled of dust and disuse. He had slept almost six hours. Even so, jet lag hovered in the background like a distant fog. “Gabriella, I need to ask about your family.”
Her hands froze on the keyboard. “What about them?”
“Where are they?”
“My mother is an anesthesiologist in Milan. My sister lives in Greece. She is a physiotherapist. Her husband runs one of the big luxury hotels.”
“Can you get your mother to go visit your sister?”
Her eyes widened. “You think she is in danger?”
“If they can’t find you, they might use her to get to you.”
“Mama loves to spend time with the grandchildren. If I ask, she will go.”
“Ask her today.”
“All right.”
“This is important, Gabriella.”
“I said I would do it.” She started typing again. The rushing wind filled Charlie’s ears. “You are entering Base Level now . . .”
Charlie was on the move before she even finished counting.
He could hear her go through the drill—find the next danger, identify the route to safety, stay safe and in control at all times. He registered the words, but in truth he was already gone. Like he shut his eyes and in one instant he was out there.
The sense of being pulled through a massive vortex of power was constant. The images he received were brilliant flashes, photographic stills etched into his brain with multiple lasers.
When it was over, Charlie flew back into the chamber and inside his body with the same sense of catapulting force.
He gasped and sat up.
“Charlie?”
He swung his legs to the floor and sat there a second. Letting his heart rate settle. Filtering through the images. Setting them into careful order.
“They’re coming. Tonight.”
“What?”
He was already up and moving for the door. “Tell everybody to stay indoors. Call your mother. Do it now.”
“Who is coming, Charlie?”
He opened the door and forced himself to slow down to a more acceptable pace. “The enemy doesn’t always need a name.”