“That can’t be a coincidence,” AJ said.
VanCleave sniffed. “I don’t deal in coincidences, only in probabilities.”
AJ laughed. “Okay, then I think the probability is high that we will be taking a road trip to Vienna in the very near future.”
Kalen jiggled the keys to his Ducati. “Race you there.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“How did you get this number?” Meredith said into her iPhone.
“From Xavier Pope. I’ve been trying to reach him for the past two hours, but he hasn’t been picking up. He gave me very specific instructions: in case of an emergency where he cannot be reached, I am to contact you directly… I think this qualifies as an emergency,” said Bart Bennett with a hint of trepidation in his voice.
“You have my attention, Dr. Bennett. So please, start at the beginning.” She listened without interruption as he related the morning’s events. He went on to explain that Pope had sent him hundreds of samples for analysis over the previous two months, and how he believed the connection between today’s sample and the others was indisputable. When at last he fell silent, she said, “You did the right thing calling me. Loyalty and discretion are prized and rewarded in our organization. Since Vyrogen acquired Wien Bioscience eighteen months ago, your name has crossed my desk more than once as someone who is a rising star. It looks like that director position might have just opened up. Now, tell me, does anyone else know about this?”
“Yes, the woman who brought me the sample, Julie Ponte, and my lab assistant, Jon Henning.”
“I want you to listen very carefully. All computer files and records associated with this event need to be deleted. All hard copies and prints need to be destroyed. Any slides or sample volumes need to be packaged and locked in the secure refrigeration unit for pick up by one of my couriers.”
“Okay, I understand. What do you want me to tell my assistant, Jon?”
“Don’t worry about Mr. Henning. He’s going to be reassigned.”
“Reassigned? Nothing bad is going to happen to him, right? I mean, it’s not his fault he found out. He was just doing his job,” Bart protested feebly.
“What would ever make you think such a terrible thing? Of course nothing is going to happen to him. We just need to occupy his mind with other things right now. A transatlantic reassignment will give Mr. Henning other things to think about besides antibodies and lymphocytes.”
“He’s been a great lab technician. I’d hate to lose him.”
“The world is full of great lab technicians. Besides, Director Bennett will have much more pressing responsibilities to fret over than the job satisfaction of lab technicians. Am I making things clear?”
“Yes, crystal clear.”
“Good. Now, tell me about the woman who brought you this sample, Julie Ponte. I want to know everything.”
Meredith collapsed onto the king-sized bed in her hotel suite at the Copley Plaza and stared at the ceiling. Her morning had begun with a slap in the face, but thanks to Julie Ponte, she was officially back in the game. To say she was in control of the situation would be an overstatement, but at least she was equipped with knowledge she could use to influence each of the players’ next moves. As she lay there, still dressed in the frayed Princeton University T-shirt she wore as nightshirt, she weighed her options.
The report from Pope needled her. Yes, the surprise Health Ministry inspection could have been legitimate, but she harbored doubts. If Nicolora had directed his minions to infiltrate her Chiarek Norse facility, then it was because he didn’t trust her. She wondered if he truly trusted anyone. When they were together, he was always probing, testing her loyalty. It had driven her crazy. One day, when she’d finally had enough, she blasted him in a fiery, accusatory assault. Instead of denying her allegations, he had argued vehemently that she adopt a similar philosophy, stating that trust is a luxury that people in power cannot afford. Surveillance is the cornerstone of prescience, he stated; intelligence collection the cornerstone of insight. She asked him to teach her to think as he did — like a field general in battle — and he had granted her request.
In the years since their split, she had honed her skills.
She had contemplated a variety of security breach scenarios concerning Chiarek Norse, and prepared for them. Tracks had been covered. Electronic files, paper documents, and official statements for multiple contingencies had been readied in advance. If the inspectors had been Nicolora’s team, she was confident they hadn’t discovered anything of consequence. Still, she couldn’t stand not knowing. Her lips curled into a coy little smile. It was time for her to spend some private time with her old teacher; collect some intelligence of her own. She had reserved her hotel room for an extra day for this very exigency. In her experience, a man’s mind was surprisingly unfettered after a fierce orgasm. She decided she would not tell Nicolora about Julie Ponte — at least not before she knew his true agenda.
Her hunting dogs, the Zurns, were another matter. When she had last spoken to Raimond, he was still in Prague, trying to pick up Foster’s trail at the infamous cybercafé. His pride was bruised after the events in Prague; she was confident he would not underestimate Foster again. Still, he had threatened to blackmail her, could she rely on his discretion? She had already tried firing him, but that had only enraged him. She exhaled slowly. Realistically, she was stuck with the Zurns to the bitter end. With a single phone call, the brothers could be standing in Ponte’s apartment in less than four hours. Better to send them to Vienna now, while the window of opportunity was still open. There was no telling how long Foster would linger in one place before running again.
Next, her mind drifted to Julie Ponte, and how she could best use this new chess piece that had appeared on the board. Was Ponte a knight or a pawn? Could she intimidate Ponte into cooperating with her? From talking with Bennett, it was obvious that she was clever. Had Bennett not already been read into CALYPSO, Ponte would have succeeded in using his laboratory to uncover Foster’s secret — and possibly Meredith’s agenda — without anyone the wiser. If she had not yet pieced together the connection between Vyrogen, Leighton-Harris, and Chiarek Norse, she undoubtedly would in short order. Meredith inspected her fingernails. French-manicured, polished, elegant… nothing like the razor sharp claws she deployed in battle. If she were in Ponte’s position, she would size up her enemy, quickly realize it was a fight she couldn’t win, and ditch Foster. Actually, if she were Julie, she would negotiate a lucrative payoff and turn him in herself. This begged the question, what type of woman was Julie Ponte? How deeply did she care for Foster? Would she be willing to sacrifice her career to help him escape, or would she cave under pressure?
Meredith picked up her iPhone. It was time to find out.
Chapter Twenty-Six