Kalen had taken station strategically at the northeast corner of Kärntner and Philharmoniker, in front of a Starbucks coffee shop, and catty-corner to where Julie and Will were standing at the Wiener Staatsoper, the Vienna State Opera House. From his location, he would be able to observe the meeting between AJ and Will at the Café Sacher and intervene within seconds if necessary.
VanCleave had rented a room at the Hotel Sacher facing south and positioned almost directly above the hotel’s outdoor café. From his bird’s eye vantage point, he could see all the players, monitor foot and vehicle traffic in and out of the T-shaped intersection, and use a directional microphone listen to conversations within a seventy-five meter radius.
E. VanCleave—RS: Technical: “Got ‘em. Calibrating the directional mike… I have good audio… Ponte is wishing Foster good luck. She just kissed him.”
K. Immel—RS: Physicaclass="underline" “Foster is moving. He’s crossing the street. Bio, get ready.”
A. Archer—RS: Bio: “Roger.”
The second and third stories of the State Opera overhung the first story, creating a covered walkway and allowing more space for pedestrian traffic along Kärntner. The portico was supported by stone columns that formed a series of arches. Occupying the southwest corner of Kärntner and Philharmoniker, the portico was two arches deep by five arches long. Will and Julie had taken position under the portico and behind one of the many columns.
“I think I see him,” Julie said to Will, peering around a cream-colored stone column toward the Hotel Sacher. “There, in the black jacket with the blue pocket square. He’s looking around… He just sat down facing the street.”
“Wish me luck,” Will replied.
Julie leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. “Good luck. I’ll be right here watching.”
He crossed Philharmoniker Strasse and walked toward three maroon awnings, each adorned with a printed golden ‘S’ encircled by a wreath — the logo of the Sacher hotel and café. Seven small round bistro tables, each with two chairs, formed a modest row along the window front. The brisk evening air made the café’s indoor seating a more welcome choice for most diners, so only five people sat outside. Only one sat alone facing the street.
Will paused ten paces from the tables and surveyed the landscape. He scanned the crowd, looking for men in black with curlicue wires dangling from their ears and government-issue overcoats. He found none. Only automobile traffic, wandering tourists, and a man showing off his sport bike to a raven-haired girl in front of a Star-bucks down the sidewalk. Will took a deep breath and walked up to the table where the agent was seated.
A. Mesnil—RS: Social: “Talk to him, Bio. Engage him, or we’ll lose him.”
“Mr. Foster, my name is Special Agent Nelson. Thank you for coming.”
Will stood motionless, considering. “You look a little young for a federal agent.”
“Would you believe I’m five years out of the academy? My nickname in the Bureau is Babyface. I hate it, but whatcha gonna do,” AJ improvised.
A. Mesnil—RS: Social: “That’s good, Bio. Keep it up.”
“Please, Mr. Foster. Have a seat. We’re just going to talk. That’s all,” AJ said.
Will stared into the young man’s hazel eyes. AJ met Will’s gaze and held the eye contact. After several seconds, satisfied, he pulled back the empty chair and sat down. “You called this meeting. Talk.”
“You asked for proof, so I brought it. This USB key contains data and documentation we’ve obtained from the Chiarek Norse facility — the very facility where you were detained. Vyrogen Pharmaceuticals took extreme measures to keep these files secret, and now we know why. We’re here to help you Mr. Foster, but we need your cooperation.” AJ said and placed the USB key on the table in front of Will.
A. Mesnil—RS: Social: “Don’t say things like that. You sound like you’re setting him up. Tell him your goal is to protect him and Julie. Help him get his life back. Empathy, Bio, empathy.”
“Cooperation?” Will said. “So you want me to testify against Vyrogen? Is that the only reason you’re here?”
“We’re here to protect you and Ms. Ponte. I want to help you get your life back. That’s our number one priority. From the files we’ve commandeered, we have a pretty good picture what Vyrogen has been up to. But I’m not going to lie to you, we could definitely use your help to fill in some of the blanks…”
A. Mesnil—RS: Social: “Good. Now appeal to his sense of duty. We need to protect other innocents like him.”
AJ continued, “We can protect you against Vyrogen, but we also need to know if there are others. Others like you, research subjects who survived and need our help. My job is to make sure that Vyrogen is stopped, and to help the innocent people who they’ve hurt.”
A. Mesnil—RS: Social: “Beautiful, Bio.”
“Assuming I believe you, what are you proposing?” Will asked, still making no move to pick up the USB key.
E. VanCleave—RS: Technical: “Bio, he’s not going take the USB. Go to secondary marking protocol. Gently swipe your right toe on Foster’s leg. Do it now.”
“I’m proposing that you come with me. Ms. Ponte can come too, if she chooses. We’ll debrief in a safe location here in Vienna. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll take you home under protective custody.” As he spoke, AJ slid his right foot forward six inches and hit the table leg, awkwardly. He missed.
“Before I consider going with you, I need to see your credentials,” Will said.
AJ nodded. Below the table, he made another sweep with his right foot, this time successfully brushing Will’s left pant leg.
“Have your contact at Orange Telecom ping Ponte’s phone again,” Raimond Zurn barked. “I still don’t see them.”
“The accuracy is only plus or minus fifty meters, brother. The last triangulation puts their position at these GPS coordinates. We need to be patient. Remember, they could be inside a building. The ping works anywhere that the phone has a signal,” Stefan said.
“There,” Udo said, pointing out the right passenger window of the van. “The girl is there, standing against that stone column.”
“Good eyes, Udo,” Raimond said, pressing the brake pedal and slowing the van to a crawl. “She’s alone. Look for Foster.”
“He is there,” Udo said. “At that café on the other side.”
Raimond smirked and brought the van to a stop along the curb. He shifted the automatic transmission into park, flipped on the hazard flashers, and turned to face Udo and Stefan. “Stick to the plan and everything will be fine. In twelve hours, my brothers, we’ll be counting our money and drunk on Augustiner.”
K. Immel—RS: Physicaclass="underline" “Bio, we have a bogie, incoming, your three o’clock. Grey jacket, blue jeans, black boots.”
AJ turned his head to the right, looking east toward Kärntner Strasse. A man in a grey jacket was walking straight toward them, quickly and deliberately. His face was expressionless and cold.
Will scooted his chair back away from the table. He turned to his left to see what AJ was looking at.
Raimond Zurn crossed the threshold of the Café Sacher outdoor dining area. He stepped around two empty tables and was upon them.
“You,” Will said with disdain to the bounty hunter he had tussled with on the streets of Prague. His stomach tightened. How could he have been so stupid as to agree to meet this guy Nelson? It had been a double-cross from the beginning, and he had fallen for it.