A lot of what she would do next depended on Rodrigo Nervi. She would have to leave France; there was no question of that. Leave Europe, in fact. Swain hadn’t said anything about afterward, and neither had she. First they would see if there was an afterward. She tried to imagine a future by herself, and couldn’t. Whenever she saw herself now, she was with Swain.
Where would it be safe for him to go? Not back to South America, and neither of them would be safe going back to the United States. Mexico, perhaps, or Canada. That would get them close to home. Jamaica was a possibility. Swain didn’t like cold weather, so she didn’t think he would choose Canada, though that would have been her first choice. Perhaps they could summer in Canada and spend the winter farther south.
A harried-looking man wearing a lab coat and carrying a thick notebook went past her with only a nod. Glancing out through a window, she saw that the sun was setting; the short December day was almost over. Their timing was good; at this time of day, everyone was thinking of home.
The charges had all been placed, with no problems or interference from anyone. It had been so easy it was almost frightening.
She made her way back to Dr. Giordano’s office. Swain was already there, sitting on the comfortable sofa in the office and drinking a cup of coffee. Dr. Giordano indicated the carafe. “Please, help yourself,” he said. “The coffee will be good for your throat.”
“Merci,” she said. She had coughed so much she had definitely irritated her throat. The first sip of hot coffee soothed the membranes and she almost sighed with pleasure.
“You have a definite problem,” Swain was telling the doctor. “We planted the charges without anyone asking us what we were doing, or becoming alarmed. Awareness is your first defense, and your people are so absorbed in their work they are thinking of nothing else.”
“But scientists are like that,” Dr. Giordano protested, lifting his hands in a very Italian gesture. “What can I do? Tell them not to think about their work?”
Swain shook his head. “The obvious solution is to have people inside who aren’t scientists—trained security personnel—rather than relying so completely on electronics. You should have both. I’m surprised your security company didn’t suggest that.”
“But they did. Our work here is so sensitive I elected not to have people in the complex who didn’t understand the safety measures we must take with these viruses.”
“Then that’s a trade-off you have decided to make. It does leave a big hole in your security, but if you are aware of it—” Swain shrugged, as if to say there was nothing he could do. “I’ll have my recommendations put in a report to you. Implement the ones you want. Now, are you ready to have your people see if they can spot the charges?”
Dr. Giordano looked at his watch. “Their time is short. I am afraid this must be a brief lesson.”
“Of course.”
They went to the intercom system, and Dr. Giordano pressed the switch that opened the loudspeakers. He cleared his throat, then began an explanation of what had been going on that afternoon. Lily imagined that all over the complex workers were looking at each other, then uneasily examining their surroundings.
Dr. Giordano checked the time again. “You have five minutes in which to see if you can spot any of these mock explosives. Don’t touch them, just call me and report.”
He clicked off the loudspeaker and asked Swain, “How many of these charges are there?”
“Fifteen.”
They waited, watching the time. Four calls came in during the allotted five minutes. Dr. Giordano sighed, looking sad, and announced the results over the loudspeaker. He turned back to Swain with a “what can I do?” expression on his face.
Lily sat down and rubbed her right leg as if it were aching. She felt an unaccountable sadness, now that the time was here. Considering her earlier rage and hatred, why should she feel sad now? But she did.
She was so tired of killing. She wondered if there would ever be an end to it. Rodrigo Nervi would search for her until the end of his days; she would have to look at every stranger as a possible threat, never relaxing in public.
Swain got up. “You didn’t tell them about the bomb threat drill. That’s good, I think. Your people have been remarkably unaware, so let’s see if I can perhaps stir them to a little more action. May I?” He indicated the intercom system, and Dr. Giordano waved a hand in permission, smiling. Swain turned on the loudspeaker again and in his rough French said urgently, “The explosives are real! There has been a mistake! Get out, get out, get out!”
He turned and began swiftly ushering Dr. Giordano out the door. Behind them, Lily started to retrieve her pistol from her boot, but Swain looked over his shoulder and gave a sharp shake of his head. “Move the van,” he mouthed.
She couldn’t believe they hadn’t thought of that before. The van was parked too close to the building. If she didn’t move it to a safer distance, they wouldn’t have transportation. Swain couldn’t do it because she had the keys, and he was already busy taking the batteries for the remote control from his pocket, trying to insert them while he was moving at a fast clip.
People were hurrying out of various rooms and laboratories, confusion on their faces. “What is it?” one woman asked. “This is a joke?”
“No,” Lily said briefly. “Hurry!”
As they went out the door, for Dr. Giordano’s benefit she said, “I have to get something from the van,” and ran for the vehicle.
Evidently taking her action as something they themselves were supposed to do, those lab workers who drove instead of taking the train began running for their own vehicles. The guards at the gate, seeing this unusual activity, stepped out of their little building with their hands on the butts of their weapons, leaving them still holstered but ready to draw on a second’s notice.
Lily started the van and rapidly backed it out of the parking space. Dr. Giordano gave her a startled look, but Swain said something and distracted him by pointing at what the workers were doing, at the same time walking at a fast clip to a safer distance and urging Dr. Giordano along with him.
She pulled the van between Swain and the guards, blocking their view but also positioned in such a way that it gave them some protection from the coming blast. As she got out, she heard Swain say, “Is that everyone, do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Dr. Giordano replied. “Not many were working today, but as to how many—?” He shrugged.
“You should always know, otherwise how can you get a head count?” Swain asked reasonably, and, to Lily’s surprise, turned and handed the remote control to her.
“You do the honors,” he said.
She had watched him test the device, and he’d explained to her how it worked, but why was he deviating from the plan? She didn’t have time to ask, because Dr. Giordano was already looking puzzled. Before he could ask questions or become alarmed, she activated the device. A little green light glowed, showing it was on, and she pressed the button that sent the radio signal to the detonators.
There was a sort of deep, muffled whoomph; then all hell broke loose.
Parts of the complex blew up and out, the percussion of the blast hitting them like a blow. Black smoke and fire billowed, and a dark cloud of debris arced overhead. People screamed, ducking and protecting themselves as best they could. Flying glass pierced several people like arrows. One man went down under a chunk of the debris that rained down on them like rocks thrown by a giant.