“Please take a seat,” said the man, indicating the leather chairs in front of his desk.
“Why not,” said Cardinal, trying to decide if the blonde-haired man’s accent was French or Swiss.
“I must compliment you on your choice of Sig-Sauer 9mm pistols. A well-made and deadly weapon in the hands of a trained marksman,” said the blonde-haired man, balancing one of the pistols in his hand.
“I like it,” replied Cardinal, deciding that the man was Swiss.
The man looked at the officer and said, “Leave Sergeant Temuujin in the room. You can wait outside. I’ll call you when I need you.”
With that, a muscle-bound sergeant with cold, unforgiving eyes took a post by the door while Sam and Cardinal sat down. Laid out on the floor in front of the chairs were their gas masks and chemical agent detectors. Sam and Cardinal both cringed inside when they saw their boots. The heels had been ripped off. Their small GPS locators sat beside them.
“I can see from the look on your faces that you didn’t expect us to find your tracking devices. Please, you should give my people and me some credit. To use a North American colloquialism, this isn’t some fly-by-night operation. Now, before we get down to business, can I offer either of you a drink?” said the blonde-haired man as he walked over to a liquor cabinet on the far side of the room.
“Nothing for me,” said Sam.
“I’ll have a Scotch on the rocks, if you don’t mind,” said Cardinal, trying to sound calm while inside, his heart was racing. Their one hope for rescue lay on the tiled floor of the office for all to see.
“Myself, I’m always partial to Cognac in the afternoon,” said the man, pouring the drinks. He handed Cardinal his drink and then took a seat behind his desk.
“How do you find the Scotch? Is it to your liking?” asked the blonde-haired man.
Cardinal took a sip. He felt the amber liquid burn as it slid down his throat. “Yes, thank you, it’s more than acceptable, considering our circumstances.”
“I’m glad that you like it. I suppose that I should introduce myself, my name is Gabriel Cypher,” said the man, lifting his drink in greeting.
“Please to meet you,” said Cardinal. “My name is Gordon Cardinal and my friend’s name is—”
“Samantha Chen,” said Cypher with a grin on his face, “a former U.S. Army medic, who, like you, Mister Cardinal, is now a member of Polaris Operations, a private security company that has world-wide connections. My security people used the latest in facial recognition software to identify you when you were brought in. I have reviewed both your files and you are to be commended on your work. I was particularly impressed with your work in the Philippines last year.”
“And what organization might you represent?” asked Sam.
“Cypher Industries, naturally.”
Cardinal thought about it for a moment and then snapped his fingers in the air. “I know you guys. Cypher Industries is Switzerland’s largest arms manufacturer. I've tried several of their sniper rifles over the years.”
“Hope they were to your liking.”
“They were okay. I still prefer the Barrett.”
“A fine weapon, but we are developing a new .50 caliber sniper rifle that will go into production next year that may be more to your liking. I should also point out that we are the second-largest manufacturer of arms in all of Europe,” added Cypher proudly.
“If you’re from Cypher Industries, then what on earth are we doing inside what I can only assume is a long-abandoned, World War Two-era Soviet military facility?” said Cardinal.
“You have a sharp eye, Mister Cardinal.”
“The poster of Marx downstairs and the unmistakably drab Soviet style of engineering are a bit of a dead giveaway.”
“What I am doing here is none of your business. What I want to know is why you were both caught sneaking about in the middle of the night inside an abandoned vehicle storage facility guarded by the Mongolian military.”
Sam said, “We were tasked by our boss to find out what happened to two missing grad students. We accidentally stumbled across their abandoned Rover out there in the desert and decided to see if we could learn anything about what had happened to them by looking through their vehicle.”
“Then why the gas masks and chemical agent detectors?” asked Cypher.
“After I spotted a Mongolian armored car configured for chemical agent monitoring, I assumed that there had been a leak from an old munitions depot somewhere out in the desert. So I asked our people to send us the gear so we wouldn’t become casualties when we went back to take a look at the abandoned Rover,” explained Cardinal.
Cypher smiled. “Well, at least my cover story is working. I hope the Mongolian Army’s activities in the desert will discourage more people from poking their noses about where they don’t belong.”
“Mister Cypher, we both know that there isn’t a chemical leak, so why the charade of having us take a shower when we arrived?” said Sam.
“Oh, that. It’s for the Mongolian soldiers’ benefit. They actually believe that there has been a spill from an old undisclosed Soviet arms depot in the desert. The operation is highly top secret; not even the local formation commander has any inkling of what is going on out here in the desert. If he did, I suspect that he’d roll in here with a regiment of tanks to shut me down in a heartbeat. The soldiers you have seen to date work for a man with a huge gambling problem. I pay off his debts and in return, he does me the occasional favor,” explained Cypher.
“Like pretend that there is a chemical leak in the desert,” said Cardinal.
“Precisely.”
“Since we seem to be your guests, if you don’t mind me asking, do you know what happened to the two missing students?” said Sam.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know exactly what happened to them. Since neither of you are leaving this complex alive I can tell you that they unfortunately, along with about seventy other people, died when the device I was testing here had a slight technical malfunction.”
“What device?” asked Cardinal, digging for answers.
“Mister Cardinal, no offense but I doubt that you or Miss Chen would understand the science behind the manipulation of tectonic energy,” replied Cypher. “Now, enough polite conversation. I want to know precisely what information you sent back to your friends in the States and what will happen when you are listed as missing. I warn you not to play dumb with me. I have no doubt that your people know your present whereabouts due to the tracking devices that were hidden in your boots, and I don’t want to be surprised by any more unwanted visitors poking their noses in where they are not welcome.”
Sam and Cardinal sat back in their chairs, tight-lipped.
“I had hoped it wouldn’t go this way.” Without saying a word, Cypher pointed at Cardinal. A second later, the muscle-bound Mongolian guard was standing beside him, hovering over him like a predator waiting to pounce.
Sam tensed. If she could get her hands on Cypher, the tables would be turned.
As if reading her mind, Cypher shook his head. He quickly picked up one of the pistols from his desk, and then calmly aimed the pistol straight at Sam’s head. “I would advise against any foolish heroics, Miss Chen. I am a very good shot. From this range, I cannot miss.”
Sam’s heart began to beat wildly in her chest. She bit her lip; there was nothing she or Cardinal could do now but wait for the inevitable.
“I have already sent men to the Dornogobi Hotel in Sainshand to retrieve your possessions, which I have no doubt will include a laptop,” said Cypher. “Don’t kid yourselves; my people will easily crack any security protocols you and your company have in place.”