“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Nervous?”
“I’d be a liar if I said otherwise.”
“Good, then you’re not overconfident. Overconfidence, in my experience, is an omen of failure.”
Will offered up an awkward smile, but said nothing.
“Raimond Zurn may be vicious, but I promise you, he has no idea what’s about to hit him,” she said. She reached into her pocket, retrieved a button with an adhesive backing and fixed it to the inside of his shirt collar.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“A microphone transceiver, disguised as a button. When you talk, we’ll be able to hear everything you say.”
“Like a wire they use on cop shows on TV?”
“Exactly, just much smaller. Do you remember your handle?”
“Yes. It’s Foxtrot.”
“Coordinator, this is Social. How do you copy Foxtrot?”
R. Parish—RS: Coordinator: “Social, this is your Coordinator. I copy Foxtrot, Lima Charlie.”
“Good. We can hear you perfectly.”
“How will I hear you? Shouldn’t I have an earpiece or something?” Will asked.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea. There will be a lot of chatter on the circuit, and if you’re not used to it, it makes it hard to think. Trust me, I’m speaking from experience. It’s better if you’re not distracted. You’re going to have your hands full just talking to Zurn.”
Will nodded. His eyes expressed all the emotions he felt without uttering a word to her. He pulled his jacket collar up and began walking toward the church.
The front entrance of the Karlskirche was situated behind six Corinthian stone pillars supporting a Doric portico mimicking the Parthenon in Athens, but these doors were kept closed and locked except for special occasions. Regular access to the church was via a set of tall wooden double doors on the west side. Viewing hours for tourists ended at five o’clock. Catholic evening mass began at six o’clock, and the church was closed to the public after the conclusion of mass. The west entrance was locked promptly after mass, and the church was closed until the next morning.
Kalen had arrived thirty minutes before the rest of the team, bypassed building security, and unlocked the doors from the inside. After a survey of the nave and transept, he exited the public area of the church through a set of doors beyond the altar that lead to the restricted areas of the church where he would complete his final preparations for the engagement.
Also already inside the church was Stefan Zurn, who had arrived before Will but after Kalen. To his delight, he had found the west entrance unlocked, which allowed him to sneak inside without having to fuss with breaking in. However, an unlocked entrance also meant that he was not alone. He took care not to make a sound as he crept along the dark west corridor. Before entering the nave, he stood motionless and surveyed the pews to ensure no one was praying in the church. Killing a man or woman of the cloth was not on his agenda.
Karlskirche was undergoing extensive interior renovations. A massive scaffold occupied the west side of the church, stretching from the ground level up, over one hundred feet in the air to the top of the cupola. The scaffold was so tall that an elevator had been installed within to facilitate travel to and from the dome. Marble structures everywhere were being polished to remove centuries’ worth of candle smoke from their surfaces. Frescoes adorning the dome of the cupola were being meticulously freshened and retouched. The division between the old and the renovated portions of a structure was dramatic visual evidence of how the grandeur of the church had faded over the years.
For Stefan, the scaffolding had been an unexpected gift. A sniper’s dream. The interlocking steel trusses were bathed in shadow. Horizontal platforms with interconnecting ladder stairs formed staggered tiers all the way up to the ceiling and offered him a firing angle to every location inside the church except for directly beneath him. It was almost too easy, he thought to himself as he worked his way up to the fifth level platform. Once in position, he assembled his sniper rifle from memory in the dark and chambered a round. Then, he waited.
Will pushed against the heavy wooden door of the west entrance. The hinges creaked as the massive door stubbornly gave way. The west corridor was dark, the only illumination coming from the end of the hall where it intersected the nave of the church. He stepped across the threshold and pulled the door closed behind him, erasing the triangle of moonlight on the floor at his feet. His stomach was uneasy. Fear and foreboding washed over him in waves. He was a soldier marching to battle; he was a condemned man shuffling to the gallows. He had agreed to the agents’ plan to confront Zurn. It was a sound plan. Certainly a better strategy than he could have conceived. But in his heart, he did not expect it to work.
He walked slowly and deliberately into the nave. His eyes were now adjusted to the dark. Two candles flickered at the altar, which was located past the transept at the head of the church some thirty meters away. Moonlight shining through the glass windows of the cupola cast a bluish hue throughout the church. He moved down the center aisle. He extended his left hand and let his fingers brush lightly across the tops of the aged oak pews, one by one.
One, two, three … seven, eight, nine … thirteen, fourteen.
He stepped sideways into the fourteenth pew and sat down. He scooted along the bench until he was in the approximate middle. With his right hand, he reached down under the bench and swept back and forth, feeling for the vial. After a moment, he felt a lump and a texture he immediately recognized as the gauze tape. He peeled the tape free from the underside of the pew and retrieved the glass vial he had hidden — his insurance policy. He stripped the gauze tape off the vial and held it up into a beam of moonlight. The liquid inside shimmered as he tilted the glass tube side to side, watching the angle of the meniscus change.
Above, from his hiding place on the scaffold, Stefan watched Will’s every move through his monocular night-vision scope. He zoomed in on the vial. He could see that the glass tube contained a liquid, but he did not know what the liquid was. Raimond had never mentioned a vial before. Maybe Raimond did not know about it. Maybe it was valuable. Maybe it was dangerous. He would have to inform his brother of this new development. Taking care not to make a sound, Stefan set the rifle down on the plywood decking. He retrieved his mobile phone from his pants pocket and began composing a text message to Raimond.
Will wrapped a piece gauze tape around the top of the vial, to help secure the rubber cap. He then slid the tube into his right pants pocket. He lowered his head into his hands.
A creaking noise broke the silence and startled Will out of his fretful monologue. The sound came from behind him. He turned his head and looked toward the back of the nave where it intersected the west corridor. He heard footsteps.
He exited the pew and took position in the center aisle facing the back of the church.
“It’s time,” Will said into the microphone button pinned to his collar. “They’re here.”
E. VanCleave—RS: Technical: “I just detected an electronic transmission from inside the church. Not one of ours. I’m running a trace.”
K. Immel—RS: Physical: “Who has eyes on Romeo Zulu?”
R. Parish—RS: Coordinator: “Social is trailing Romeo Zulu. Social, maintain radio silence: click once for yes, twice for no. Do you have eyes on Romeo Zulu?”
A. Mesnil—RS: Social: “click”
R. Parish—RS: Coordinator: “Is he talking on his phone?”