Frederick’s explanation made sense, but Tom still wasn’t fully able to trust him. He understood the motives behind the organisation, but didn’t necessarily agree with the way they set about achieving their objectives. Two men had died and he could go to prison for a very long time as a result.
That was why he hadn’t told Volker that Serena was following them. He had seen her pull out of the alley in his wing mirror and was concerned that she wouldn’t be able to keep up. He had every intention of slowing Frederick down if she dropped too far back, but he hadn’t needed to. As they turned into the car park, he looked to his left and could just make out the outline of the white buggy in the distance.
They got out of the car and Frederick led them to the lift. He pressed the button and the doors slid open immediately, reassuring Frederick that nobody else was in the building. If he’d have had to wait for the lift to arrive, it would mean that either somebody was in the offices above them or, worse still, in the Bunker. They stepped in and Frederick retrieved the key from his pocket and inserted it into the control panel. He pressed the alarm button and the lift started to descend.
‘What is this place?’ Tom felt a little uneasy about losing his backup. There’s no way Serena would be able to follow me down here.
‘We call it the Bunker,’ replied Frederick. ‘It’s the operational headquarters of our unit. SHIVA has developed a matrix of autonomous cells scattered throughout the world. Each group is led by a head, often working in isolation, making all the decisions based on the fixed fundamental principles of our founding fathers. Each cell has an objective and functions independently, making the main organisation virtually immune to detection or penetration by our adversaries. The identity, location, or actions of other cells is restricted to the upper echelons to prevent a total network collapse in the event of an individual unit being compromised.’
‘Sounds very sophisticated,’ Tom observed as the doors opened again. Frederick preceded Tom out of the lift and made his way down the corridor.
‘It has to be. We’ve learnt over the years, from bitter experience, that we are seen as a threat to man’s quest to develop the ultimate weapon. Our members are relentlessly pursued and, once exposed, ruthlessly expunged.’
‘But why is SHIVA here? CERN is dedicated to the peaceful pursuit of the discovery of the God particle.’
Frederick stopped and turned to Tom. ‘Given the downturn in the global economy, CERN is one of only a few government-funded organisations in the world never to have had its budgets cut. The Collider itself cost nearly $5 billion to construct and we spend a little over that each year in running costs. To date, the project has cost over $25 billion. Putting that into perspective, America’s space shuttle programme was axed to save the US economy a tenth of what we spend each year in search of the God particle. So, ask yourself one question — cui bono? Who benefits?’
Tom shrugged.
‘Are you aware of the expression, “whoever pays the piper, calls the tune”?’ Frederick waited for Tom to acknowledge before continuing. ‘The research to discover the God particle is being conducted in the name of science; but, once we have proven its existence and can replicate it at will, then the implications are that it could be used for military applications.’
‘The ultimate deterrent — a doomsday weapon?’ Tom suggested, expounding on Frederick’s inference.
‘It’s possible,’ Frederick concurred. ‘SHIVA’s mission here was to prevent it ever getting to that stage. It was to forestall the discovery of the God particle to such an extent that its monetary backers would lose faith in the project and move onto something else.’
‘So, you weren’t aware that the Collider could affect the Earth’s electromagnetic field?’
‘Not until you showed me the document. In hindsight, I should have listened to Professor Morantz. But at the time it sounded preposterous.’ He opened the door to the Bunker and switched on the lights. ‘We should be safe down here. Only SHIVA is aware of its existence.’
‘But I can’t stay down here forever,’ Tom protested.
‘The reason I’ve told you all this is that I want you to become part of SHIVA,’ replied Frederick. ‘I want you to take over my role as head of this cell. What we need now, more than any other time in SHIVA’s history, are visionaries, leaders that can inspire the next generation of scientists to follow a moralistic code. I’m not getting any younger and my usefulness to the organisation is almost at an end; but what I can do is speak to Inspector Gervaux and tell him that I planted the device and implicated you. That way, you’ll be in the clear to continue the work we started here.’
Both men were startled by the slow clapping of hands. They spun round to see Deiter framed in the doorway and, behind him, Serena struggling against the grip of a security guard in a navy blue uniform, holding a semi-automatic weapon out in front of him.
‘Very commendable, Herr Volker,’ he said. ‘But I suggest that nobody is going anywhere for the time being.’
CHAPTER 26
Gervaux and Lavelle reached the underground car park in less than five minutes, where they found the two abandoned golf buggies and the black BMW.
‘You go interview the security guard on the gate, I’ll search the building,’ Gervaux ordered.
The inspector scanned the car park for any signs of life before approaching the lift. He pressed the button and heard the muffled whir of the winch mechanism behind the double stainless steel doors. It took several seconds for the sound to stop and the doors to hiss open. He stepped in. Deciding to work from the top down, he pressed the third floor button.
Seconds later, he was standing in an empty office, which clearly hadn’t been commissioned since it was built. Electric cables protruded out of bare walls, waiting for the new occupants to decide where they were going to position the sockets. The floor tiles were covered in a thick layer of dust, in which Gervaux could make out the impression of a single set of footprints leading off to the far side of the room. He followed the trail to a large, panoramic window and looked out. He could see his sergeant talking to the security guard at the perimeter of the compound. They were standing outside what looked like a sentry hut. Lavelle had his notebook out and was jotting something in it.
The inspector turned away from the window and followed the tread marks back to the lift. From the shape and style of the imprints, Gervaux’s guess was that they were made by some kind of trainer or sneaker and, by the sharpness of the ridges, they were fairly new. He would leave the identification of the exact make, model and size to his forensics team, who he would ring once he’d checked the rest of the building.
He took the lift down and stepped out onto the second floor, but could tell immediately that it was empty; the footprints had ventured into the office space for about ten feet and then doubled back. He walked over to the window, which afforded the same view as the one on the floor above, only at a shallower elevation. He could see Lavelle putting his notebook away as the security guard disappeared into the hut.
After checking the first floor and coming up empty-handed, he made his way back to the car park, where Lavelle was waiting for him.
‘How did you get on with the security guard?’ Gervaux enquired.
‘He was a bit reluctant to start with,’ his sergeant replied. ‘But when I told him he could be implicated in a murder case, he was more forthcoming.’