Æquinoctium Ch. 02

Ere Denise could dwell on this essential subject any longer, the door opened, and in strode R. The woman, still dressed in her work outfit, walked down the perimeter of the table ring. With an unintentional screech Denise jumped up and ran anti-clockwise around the furniture, desperate to keep the distance between the interrogatress and herself. As she reached Gabriel's place, he tried to calm her down with a "Ms Carlisle, I can ensure you there is no need for this...", but was utterly ignored. In passing she grabbed the remote control. Once she had reached a position opposite of her chair, she wielded the device as a makeshift, if useless, weapon. R, who had come half circle now, bent down to whisper in Gabriel's ear.

"Thank you," Gabriel replied to whatever information he had just got received. "As I heard, our ersatz payload is ready for delivering, Ms Carlisle."

Denise remained unconvinced, still determined to use the remote on anybody who dared lay hand on her.

"That's all she said? That's not what she said! Why did she whisper? Why didn't she just call you on your phone?"

Beckoning R to leave, he rose and approached his new, if reluctant, protégé.

"This way, Ms Carlisle."

"Why did she and none of your security guys tell you?"

He gently pried the remote from her hand.

"I take that, thank you."

Denise let her shoulders slump.

"She was talking about me, right?"

Gabriel made a gesture to renew his invitation.

"Let's do the walk 'n' talk, shall we?"

Upon leaving the conference room, Gabriel's phone demanded his attention again.

"Excuse me, I have to take that."

He answered it whilst holding door open for Denise.

"Osama, asama alaikum...!"

<~>

Again Denise was amazed by the extent of this complex. For an organisation nobody had ever heard of before last Friday it occupied a downright impressive hideout. After corridors upon corridors - many of which lined with air-tight doors to what seemed to be laboratories - Gabriel ushered her into a modern cargo lift. As they passed even more subterranean levels on their descent, Denise couldn't help but comment on her observation.

"Do you know what they say about the Bond films, Ms Carlisle?"

"That in the next one Moneypenny is lezzing out?"

"That they are only as good as the villains in them. And although I find a hollow volcano or a deep sea station a bit pretentious, a villain's headquarters should reflect a certain claim to power."

Given the evident recourses, Denise concluded Gabriel wasn't the sole one to thank for her escape. He'd obviously orchestrated the operation, but had outsourced all the donkeywork involving the locks and cameras, her phone and the car.

"Did you do the hacking stuff back at the safe house?"

"No, I'm here mainly because of my awesome voice and my fondness of expositions. Those hacks have been done by a cute young lady not even your age. By the way a gifted online gamer whenever she doesn't infiltrate security networks or take over Chinese killer satellites."

"What killer satellites?"

The cargo lift came to a halt, granting them access to a wide open tech area, only interrupted by orderly rows of columns.

"Chinese ones."

They exited the lift to numerous aisles of equipment, neatly arranged in sync with the columns. Although not knowing the weapons by name, Denise past in wonder the endless racks of handguns, submachine guns and assault rifles. Benelli, Beretta, Colt, Heckler & Koch, Kalashnikov, Mauser, Nexter, Smith & Wesson, Walther - all strictly sorted by class, manufacturer and calibre.

"Wow. Someone here knows his OCD..."

"You must excuse this blatant display. Our armoury is being renovated."

Denise wasn't sure whether his comment was whimsical, but it triggered an awkward train of thought. Did they hire an external firm for that? Were guards with newspaper hats painting the ceiling? Whom do super-secret organisations call when there's a water leak?

The aisles ended with a final arrangement of tables and even more cool stuff on them. Night vision gear, body armour, those little melter-thingies one of which Gabriel had used to torch the getaway car. Beyond, plenty of space was at disposal for a vehicle fleet. White vans for observation were just as neatly parked as the obligatory black four-by-fours. Centre piece of this collection was without doubt the huge MAN truck. It stood in solemn solitude, undisputed by its lesser brethren. Both the tractor unit and the three axle semi-trailer sported a deep sable paint job without any décor or advertisement. Blokes in white boiler suits and hardhats were busy around the lorry, ticking off boxes on their self-important clipboards.

"And in there is that famous payload, amirite?" Denise asked, just for the sake of asking something. She pointed towards the trailer's open double doors. With the other hand she reached behind her, towards the nearest equipment table.

"Indeed so," answered her host not without pride. As he allowed himself to be impressed with his work, Denise's fingertips brushed one of the melters. He spun around, facing her.

"Let's have a look, Ms Carlisle, shall we?"

"Sure," Denise replied innocently.

The melting device had already found a new home inside her Gucci bag - a quick slide of hand she had perfected in younger years, when the income from her side jobs after school couldn't quite hold up with her already flourishing fashion taste.

Gabriel helped her up into the trailer. Together they beheld in all its glory the one single, half-empty palette secured within the huge cargo hold.

"It's a bit?"

"Yes, two tonnes is not quite as impressive as it sounds. But the truck will make up for it!"

Denise hunched down to closer inspect the assembly of small grey ingots. Her fingers ran across the surfaces, each stamped with a stylised eagle grabbing an oak leaf wreath around a swastika.

"What is it anyway?"

"Lead."

"Just lead?"

"The quickest and most economical way to come up with two thousand kilogrammes. Plus, it fits in your story in that the lead may be supposed to shield the Tristanium from electromagnetic waves."

Denise rose.

"They will still recognise it as fake."

"In time. But many people in hazard suits will perform many tests before even daring to cut one of those ingots open to see if anything is in it."

"Is anything in it?"

"Has there to be?"

He walked the considerable distance to the trailer's edge and jumped down.

"A bomb can strike only so much terror into the hearts of people. A bomb, with all its devastating effects, is something people can understand. Calculate, if you will. But the sole breath of rumour about radioactivity will cause a far deeper reaction. You know what is said about the oldest fear."

Gabriel held his hand out to assist her, making sure not to look under her skirt.

"To what end?"

"I could tell you, but then I?"

"You would have to kill me. Safe it."

Denise started to suspect the phrase was employed every time somebody just lucked out or the truth would be too embarrassing.

"Oh, James, how did you manage to diffuse the warhead just in time?" ? "Well, Moneypenny, I was so hammered from my martinis that I fell face-first on the control board and happened to hit the right keys. By the way, I think the exotic beauty I shagged last night might have been a lady-boy."

He escorted her to one of the Geländewagen that had already pulled out of its designated parking space. As the driver left the engine idling, a second guard with shades was holding the door to the rear seats open.

"You drive the same cars as those secret service mugs, you are aware of that?" Denise noted towards Gabriel, and not necessarily with admiration in mind.

"Yes, but ours have way cooler rims on them."

Before she had the chance to verify his statement, Gabriel had handed over to him a black piece of textile from the doorman. With a sinking feeling Denise recognised it as a hood. Maybe those came with the cars when ordering the optional Abduction Package.

Her heart skipped a beat as the guard took her handbag, but he only stowed it away without ever minding its content. Then her surrounding turned dark, reduced to the distance between her face and the heavy fabric.

"Turn around, please."

Gabriel placed her hands in the small of her back. She winced as the first cuff closed around the wrist.

"Don't be alarmed, Ms Carlisle. This is just a precaution so you cannot take off the hood."

With her hands secured behind her back, hooded Denise was manoeuvred onto the centre rear seat and strapped into the safety belt. Just in case of an accident - or in case she bolted. Once the guard and Gabriel had found their places to her left and right, respectively, the heavy car set itself into motion. As it kept accelerating, and the outside noises became hollow, Denise concluded they had entered a tunnel of sort. Obviously she had been blindfolded so she would not be able to identify the site of her latest detention or to do some backtracking. Again the acoustics took on another quality, and she felt a change of air pressure in her ears. The car was now in the open, but during day or night Denise could not tell. The fact that she had descended through several subterranean levels to reach the garage, yet left it via a seemingly horizontal passage gave her reason to assume that she had been held captive within a mountain or rock face. However, she decided to keep this conclusion to herself.

"So, now what?" Denise finally enquired. Not only was she highly interested in the details of her immediate future, she was also desperate to break through the isolation of that bloody hood.

"I give you a set of instructions. You follow them. Stuff will happen."

Against her active will Denise was relieved to hear his voice. It was now that she realised how sinister a mind game Gabriel was playing with her - and how little she could do against it.

"And then?"

"Best-case scenario? You walk away with a story to tell. For the next twenty-four hours you will be a double agent!"

"I'm not even a single agent!" Denise lamented, then dropped the ultimate question: "Why me?"

"Consider it a cruel and unusual punishment for using our name in vain and accusing us of heinous crimes. Also, it is more convincing if this deal is proposed by somebody who is already a suspect in the case. Also also, as I took it from your résumé, you are specialised in high risk field missions."

Denise made a disapproving sound.

"Can I at least have my phone back? I promise to keep it switched off."

"It's never fully switched off. Ever wondered why you can't remove the batteries from modern mobiles anymore?"

Gabriel used the opportunity to lay out some general low profile rules. No mobile phones. Avoid cameras. Do not dress like you are writing a fashion blog. Do not dress like you are living in one, either. For the mission at hand, Denise had to perform several tasks prior to the Tristanium exchange. Only if all conditions were met, the truck would set off to deliver the payload.

<~>

As their dark journey continued, her host-turned-handler briefed her quite thoroughly, making her repeat all parts numerous times.

"Questions?"

"Do I get a code name?"

"Why, of course! Thou shalt be known as..."

"Hotwire? Silk? Mirage?

"Tami-Lynn. In whatever spelling you prefer."

"Oh, for crying out loud...! You do know the term white trash, do you not?"

"Gingerbird would be too obvious."

Underneath her hood Denise pulled a face.

"And your name would be?"

"Sugar daddy."

"Good thing we are avoiding the creepy-zone."

For some time now the car was performing turns, lane changes and stops. They had entered urban area.

"Remember: If you get caught, deny all knowledge."

"If I get caught, I'm so gonna rat on you...!"

"Fair enough."

The G-Class made some last slow turns, then came to a stop. Gabriel helped her out and delivered her from the hood. Denise blinked. They had parked at the end of a back alley, broadened into the loading zone for a metalworking shop. Given the light, the temperature and the quality of the air, she reckoned it was shortly after dawn. At the alley's entrance, shielded away by the car, she could see a main street slowly coming to life. All of a sudden the whole plan, theoretically during discussion, became overwhelming.

"Please don't make me."

She turned to Gabriel, rubbing her smarting wrists and tingling hands after he had opened the cuffs. With a crisp move he placed the handbag under her arm.

"No courage without fear."

"I'm all courage right now."

He pointed across the bonnet towards the street.

"Down there, then right, and you are on target."

Denise made a last-ditch effort:

"Okay, you've had your fun! Now if you were so kind as to cancel this absurd operation - because we both know that I will botch it."

Gabriel got back in the car and shut the door, but lowered his window.

"I am not the one who started it or is responsible for the outcomes, Ms Carlisle. I only provide options. And if you fail, you fail at least whilst facing up to the consequences of your behaviour. Good luck."

The four-by-four started rolling.

"But... I'm an American citizen!"

"My condolences."