“You can get up,” Briggs said.
With a groan, Root straightened himself off the floor. He laid the case in his lap and draped his arms over it. “You’re sure?”
“Unless Svetic’s got a couple dozen men we don’t know about, there’s no way he’s been following us. We’re okay.”
“Thank God. I can’t believe it.”
Tanner heard the snick-snick of the case’s latches being opened. He glanced back. “What’re you doing?”
“Briggs, relax. If the canisters had leaked, we would’ve known by now. There wouldn’t be an Innsbruck.”
Or a Europe, Tanner thought. Or worse. “Good point.”
“And if they just started leaking, we’re already dead,” Root added.
“Thanks for that. You really know how to brighten—”
“Oh, Jesus,” Root murmured. “Oh, God, no….”
Tanner felt a punch of panic in his belly. “What?” he said. “What is it?”
“That stupid son of a bitch!”
Tanner flashed his headlights to get Oliver’s attention, then pulled over. Behind them, Cahil did the same. Tanner shifted into park and turned in his seat.
Root was sitting with the case in his lap, the lid open. He stared, ashen-faced, at its interior.
“Jonathan, what is it?” Tanner said. ‘Talk to me!”
In response, Root swiveled the case in his lap so Tanner could see. Inside were the six cylindrical slots cut into the foam for the canisters. Of these, only four were occupied.
Two canisters were missing.
39
Tanner didn’t reply. He signaled Oliver and Cahil, Emergency, tighten up, then pulled out and started driving. His mind was spinning. They were in trouble, serious trouble. The whys, wheres, and hows were unknown. They needed to get to safety and regroup.
They arrived at the Austrotel five minutes later. Once they were locked in the room, Tanner told the group about the missing canisters. Everyone began talking at once, questions overlapping one another. Briggs held up his hand for silence, then turned to Root: “Explain.”
“I didn’t think he would do it. I thought I’d talked him out of it. He said he agreed—”
“Stop,” Tanner said. “Slow down, start from the beginning. Who’s ‘he’?”
“Istvan. Until ten years ago, he and I were the only ones left from the group. He was Frenec’s grandson. You remember, the Hungarian partisan from my grandfather’s team?”
“I remember. Go on.”
“Istvan and I were a lot alike. When my father passed this on to me, I decided I wanted to know everything there was to know about virology and biochemistry. I wanted to understand Kestrel. Istvan was the same way, but he took a different course. He became a doctor. Being the last two of the group, we felt a special bond. It was our job to keep Kestrel safe — or the world safe from it, to be more accurate. We became good friends.
“In November of 1993 Istvan called and asked for a meeting. We met here in December. He wanted to take some of the Kestrel samples back to Budapest. The Soviet Union had collapsed, Hungary was going through a revolution … He was buoyant — flush with freedom. He thought it was time we took Kestrel out of its box and studied it. He’d been specializing in HTV research and had convinced himself Kestrel held the secret to a cure. If we could understand its inner workings, he thought, we could cure AIDS, cancer, multiple sclerosis — any number of the autoimmune diseases.
“I was tempted to say yes, but I couldn’t. I thought the risk was too great. We debated it for days. In the end I convinced him — or so I thought. We spent a few more days catching up and sightseeing, then parted company.”
Root sighed and shook his head. “The only thing that makes sense is that he changed his mind and came back. He waited until I was gone, then went to the bank and took two of the canisters.”
“You said you were the last one,” Tanner replied. “If Istvan’s dead, who’s got the canisters and where are they?”
“You don’t understand,” Root said. “Istvan never made it back to Hungary. On his way home his train derailed in the Steiermark Alps. If he had the canisters with him, they’re sitting at the bottom of a lake called the Neumvield See.”
The room was silent for a full minute. Finally Cahil said, “Fine, that’s the bad news. The good news is, we know where they are and we can be pretty sure they’re not leaking. Otherwise … well, we’d know.”
As Cahil had been speaking, Tanner was watching Root’s face. “What, Jonathan?”
“It might be nothing.”
“Your expression says something else. What?”
“Anton Svetic’s son — the father of the Svetic we’re dealing with now — and Istvan were friends. Their families had stayed in touch after the war … visited one another on holidays …”
“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying. Istvan wouldn’t have told anyone else about—”
“I don’t know.”
McBride said, “Oh, God.”
Tanner strode to Root and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Jonathan, look at me.” Root did so. “Is there any chance — any chance at all — that Istvan told anyone else what he wanted to do with Kestrel? Could Svetic’s father have known about your meeting in ‘?”
Root hesitated. “There’s a chance.”
“Christ!” Oliver blurted.
Root said, “You have to understand: Istvan didn’t see things that way. He thought I was paranoid — a cynic who saw doom in everything. He knew Kestrel was dangerous, but it never occurred to him anyone would want it for anything but research. He was dedicated to helping people. In his excitement over the possibilities … who knows?”
Tanner walked to the window and stared out. My god, he thought. Could it be? Could this be the answer to where Svetic had gone? As a backup to the primary exchange, had Svetic gone after Istvan’s canisters? Abruptly Tanner realized it might already be too late. Despite all they’d gone through, Svetic might already have Kestrel.
“We have to assume the worst,” Briggs murmured. “We have to assume Svetic knows, and he’s either planning to go for them, or already has them.”
“What do we do?” Oliver asked.
“You, Joe, and the Roots go on to Oberndorf and meet the embassy people. Get on the plane and go home.”
McBride said, “Wait a second—”
“Four out of the six canisters are safe,” Tanner continued. “We have to make sure they stay that way. You and Collin will see the Roots and the case home. Bear and I will chase the other canisters.”
“How?” Root said.
“You’re going to tell me the quickest and surest way to find this lake. If Svetic hasn’t already beat us there, we’re going to head him off at the pass.”
40
Tanner’s instinct was to return to Trieste for Susanna, but he quashed it. Kestrel had to come first. He’d said it himself: If it became necessary, their lives were a fair price to pay for keeping Kestrel safe. In theory, it was an easy decision; in reality, much harder. If it were his life alone, Tanner would have little trouble with the sacrifice, but this was Susanna. He’d made a promise to see her home safely.
Sensing Tanner’s anguish, Bear did his best to reassure him: “I’ll take care of her. You worry about finding that lake and the train. We’ll be waiting when you get to Trieste.”