The detectors here would monitor the aftermath of the collisions and map the radiation fields generated by the sub-atomic particles. The detectors themselves were surrounded by reinforced concrete seven metres thick to prevent any radiation leakage. Deiter would, most likely, remotely manoeuvre the train along the tunnel to one of these detectors. Once the train was in position, he would fire up the Collider and it would then be only a matter of milliseconds before the fallout took its toll, the equivalent of six atomic bombs exploding in a space no bigger than a church hall. Death would be instantaneous — no pain, no cognitive awareness, no memory.
‘If you can, try and think of this as your final experiment,’ Deiter continued, walking down the line of captives, strung up like carcasses of beef in an abattoir. ‘We have never been able to assess the aftermath of the Collider on the human body; your contributions will be invaluable.’ He looked each one of his colleagues in the eye and seemed to feed off their distress. ‘I’d just like to say that it’s been a pleasure working with you all. I wouldn’t have been able to achieve my objectives without you.’ With that, he turned his back on them and descended the metal ladder.
‘You’re insane!’ Serena screamed after him. However, the only response she received was the retreating sound of leather on metal.
It had taken Gervaux a lot longer than normal to reach the main entrance to the complex; the road blocks that he had set up to trap the fugitives were causing massive delays on all routes. Twice they had to use their blue lights and sirens to jump to the head of the queues. It also didn’t help that the roads from the police station to CERN were covered with impacted snow and, although Lavelle was an expert driver, they were held up in several sections by less experienced motorists.
Gervaux jumped out of the car and made his way over to the two officers that were guarding the gate. ‘Where’s the Chief Security Officer?’ The inspector had phoned ahead and requested that he meet him onsite.
‘Keeping warm in his office,’ the younger of the two replied, gesturing to the small, innocuous-looking concrete hut with his eyes.
Gervaux marched over to the building, closely followed by his sergeant, and rapped on the door. After several seconds it opened, revealing the rather sleepy features of the head of security.
‘Not disturbing you, are we?’ Lavelle asked sarcastically.
The Chief Security Officer, ignoring the jibe, turned his attention to Gervaux. ‘More security videos?’ he asked with a pained expression.
‘No,’ replied the Inspector. ‘I want to do another search of the disused building and service tunnels leading to the Collider.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ replied the security officer. ‘Well, not until this afternoon, anyway.’
‘Why’s that?’ the sergeant asked, his irritation evident.
‘Because we’re testing the Collider this morning, and protocol dictates that no personnel are allowed below ground during its operation.’
‘But that doesn’t stop us searching the unoccupied office building,’ Lavelle retorted.
‘Be my guest,’ replied the officer. ‘I’ve got some paperwork I need to catch up on, so I’ll give you a ring when I receive the all-clear from the control room.’ With that, he stepped back into the warmth of his office and closed the door on the two policemen.
‘What are we going to do?’ The defiance and composure that Serena had exhibited in front of Deiter was now slipping and Tom could detect a note of desperation in her voice. He had spent the last thirty minutes trying to loosen his ties, which had resulted in his wrists becoming bloodied and raw, but there was no give.
‘Can you swing your legs up and hit the emergency stop button on the front of the train?’ asked Frederick. ‘It may give us a bit more time.’ He had also been trying to free himself, but soon realised the task was futile.
‘I could if I was a Russian gymnast,’ replied Serena sarcastically.
‘Perhaps we can shake it off its rails. On the count of three we should…’
Tom’s suggestion was interrupted by the gentle hum of the motor starting up in the carriage above Frederick’s head, followed by a jolt as the wheels engaged the track. Serena let out a scream as her body was jerked forward, the sound echoing down the tunnel in front of them. Another jolt, another scream, but this time the wheels above their heads continued turning, advancing the carriages and pulling its payload towards the end of the gantry. Serena had to walk on the balls of her feet in order to prevent herself from being dragged along. The end of the platform was fast approaching. Three feet… two feet… one foot.
‘Tom, what do I do?’ Serena cried over her shoulder.
‘Try to stay calm,’ was Tom’s only advice.
She was now at the edge of the gantry, resisting the final leap off. She looked down and could see the floor of the tunnel some ten metres below. The train above them carried on its inexorable journey, unfazed by its free-loading cargo.
‘Tom!’ Serena’s shoes could grip the metal grid of the platform no longer and she was yanked off. She swung out, her arms stretched straight by the full weight of her body, the plastic handcuffs biting into the flesh of her wrists. Her body twisted, her legs kicked and then she was still. Tom thought that she had passed out; but then, over the sound of the motor, he heard an almost animalistic whimper coming from her direction.
‘Serena? You alright?’ This time, he could make out her gentle, child-like sobs. He tugged at his restraints, but the pain was excruciating. He could see Frederick in front of him. He was shuffling along, keeping pace with the train. It was almost as if he’d resigned himself to his fate.
When it was his turn for the platform to run out on him, he didn’t falter; stepping over the edge, he allowed his weight to be transferred to his bindings. His body went limp and he let out a low moan.
Tom had never been one to pray; but he told himself that, if he was ever going to start, now would be a good time.
Gervaux, Lavelle and one of the four-man dog team had assembled in the disused building’s underground car park. The dog, a pitch-black Labrador Retriever with liquid brown eyes, could sense the tension in the air and was anxious to get on with its work. It had been given the scent of its quarry from clothes retrieved from Tom’s apartment. Gervaux was well aware that the trail may have already gone cold. Out in the open, the human scent would dissipate within a few hours; but, in the enclosed spaces of the offices, he was more hopeful that the scent would linger longer.
He pressed the button to summon the elevator, which seemed to take an inordinate amount of time to arrive. Finally, the doors opened and immediately the dog became more agitated, straining at its leash, barking excitedly and sniffing the air. The handler gave it some slack and it headed directly into the lift, tail wagging.
‘Looks like he’s picked up a trail,’ the handler said, stating the obvious.
They followed the dog into the lift and pressed the button for the first floor. During the few seconds it took for the lift to stop, the handler had unleashed the Labrador. As the doors opened, all three waited with baited breath to see what its reaction would be. The dog darted out into the office, its nose inches from the ground. It did a full sweep of the empty space and quickly returned to its master. It was obvious from the dog’s body language that its prey hadn’t been here.
They repeated the procedure on the second and third floors with similar results. On the way back down to the basement, Gervaux queried the handler. ‘What do you make of that?’