Jon pondered how many other similar projects the Shadow Organization might be behind. The Black Diamond library in Copenhagen? The central library in New York? He pictured monuments going up all over the world like radio towers to disseminate the message of the organization. Even worse was the fact he knew that the goal of the Shadow Organization was not to construct buildings around the world. That was only an administrative manoeuvre along the lines of establishing local offices.
'The Egyptian government, you said? And UNESCO?'
'Trivial matters.'
'So what do you need me for?' asked Jon, raising his arms as high as the straps allowed.
'As you know, you have extraordinary powers,' Remer began. 'Even aside from the physical phenomena, you're much stronger than any Lector we've ever measured. We think that the combination of your powers and this place should be able to take us to the next level.'
'What's the next level?'
'Initially up to your level,' replied Remer. 'After that… who knows?'
Jon didn't want to betray his ignorance, but he couldn't quite follow Remer's train of thought. Iversen had told him that all Lectors had their limitations, a certain potential that couldn't be exceeded no matter how intensive the training. Remer was apparently of a different opinion.
'The time is right,' Remer went on. 'More and more countries are choosing the democratic model, and we've never been in a better position. UNESCO and the Egyptian government are small fry. Do the EU, NATO, G8 and the UN say anything to you? Not to mention the FBI, CIA, NSA and most of the other intelligence agencies around the world? Within the next year there are going to be five parliamentary elections in Europe, countless numbers of votes and an endless series of EU meetings, governmental conferences and top symposia.'
'And your people will be sitting at the table?'
'Either at the table or behind those seated there.' Remer pointed at Jon. 'You should feel honoured. They're all here in Alexandria to meet you. You're the one who's going to give them the last push upwards so they can carry out their missions with the greatest possible effect.'
Jon had grown dizzy from what Remer was saying. He felt sick and closed his eyes.
'So what do you say, Campelli?' said Remer, raising his voice. 'Will you join us and have your wildest ambitions fulfilled, or do you want to be a slave for the rest of your life, and know it?'
Jon looked down at the straps holding his arms. He didn't know what was in store for him if he said no, but he couldn't possibly join forces with Remer. He had no intention of helping this man, who had probably murdered his parents and might be holding Katherina captive. He clenched his fists and shifted his gaze to Remer.
'I'll never help you,' he said, putting extra emphasis on the word 'never'.
Remer looked at the floor in disappointment.
'I'm genuinely sorry to hear that, Campelli,' he said. 'But I suppose I didn't really expect any other answer from you.' He got up and went over to open the door. 'Come on in,' he called.
Jon's heart began pounding hard. He'd give anything to see Katherina again, just not right now. If she came through the door, everything would have been in vain. He knew that Remer could make him do anything if they used Katherina as blackmail.
Jon heard footsteps outside the door. He held his breath.
In came a short, thin man wearing sandals, a light-coloured jogging suit and a pair of classic round steel-rimmed spectacles. He was bald and sunburnt, which made him look like a sporty version of Gandhi. He was carrying a small aluminium suitcase.
'Jon Campelli,' the man exclaimed in a voice that was surprisingly deep for his body type. 'I'm pleased to meet you at last, sir.' From behind his spectacles a pair of blue eyes fixed a piercing gaze on Jon.
'Forgive me for not shaking hands,' said Jon. There was something disquieting about the short man, but Jon was so relieved Katherina wasn't there that he regained some of his self-confidence.
'That's all right,' replied the man, placing the suitcase on the foot of the bed. He opened it and took out an object that he handed to Remer. 'I think we might as well start with this.'
Remer went over to the head of the bed and showed Jon a roll of grey duct tape. He tore off a piece and pressed it over Jon's mouth. Jon gave him a hostile glare, but Remer didn't react.
'You'd better leave us now,' the man said to Remer, who obeyed, closing the door behind him.
From his position in the bed, Jon couldn't see what was in the suitcase, but he was prepared for the worst type of torture instruments he could imagine. In a strange way he felt relieved. The pain of seeing Katherina subjected to something similar seemed to him far worse than having to experience it himself.
But when he saw what was taken out of the case, he was seized with panic.
The short man with the steel-rimmed spectacles slowly reached both hands into the suitcase and pulled out an object with the greatest of care.
It was a book.
33
When Katherina first heard about where Jon had gone, she was relieved. It meant he was still alive. But the next moment she felt terribly despondent. The distance between her and Jon was pictured on Mehmet's screen as a long, curving arc from Denmark to Egypt, and it seemed insurmountable. She had no idea how she was going to get there or how she would be able to find him in a country of that size. In despair, she simply fell apart standing there next to Mehmet.
He took it well. He led her gently over to the sofa and then sat down beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. At no time did he ask about the reason for Jon's trip or why she had reacted the way she did. He just let her cry.
When Katherina finally regained her composure, she thanked him over and over, promising to tell him the whole story some day. Mehmet responded by offering his help, no matter what she might need. Katherina was sure that before long she would have to take him up on his offer.
There were probably plenty of questions that she should have asked Mehmet, but she could no longer remain idle. She had already slept away almost two whole days, and all she wanted to do now was drive straight to the airport and catch the first flight to Egypt. But when she said goodbye to Mehmet and climbed onto her bicycle, she thought better of it, and rode instead over to Libri di Luca as fast as she could.
Henning was standing behind the counter. That surprised her until she remembered that Iversen had said he was supposed to relieve Henning and take over the surveillance at Remer's place of residence.
'Everybody can stop looking for him,' said Katherina as she entered the bookshop. 'I know where he is.'
Henning looked at her in astonishment.
'Katherina… Aren't you supposed to be…' He pointed to the windows. 'Are you okay?'
'I'm fine,' Katherina lied. She didn't have the patience for questions about either her health or her state of mind. 'You can call the others back. Jon isn't in Denmark at all. He's in Egypt.'
Henning's expression was now both annoyed and concerned. He was about to open his mouth, but Katherina was way ahead of him.
'I don't know why. The only thing I know is that they flew him there twenty-four hours ago.'
Henning nodded and wisely didn't say a word until he'd gathered his wits enough to pick up the phone to ring Iversen. Several phone calls later, the message to withdraw had reached everyone involved.
In the meantime, Katherina had found a big atlas, which she placed on the counter, leafing through the pages until she came to North Africa. Her eyes flitted over the map, over the rivers, cities and the wide open areas of desert. As a child she had often paged through atlases, occasionally imagining herself to be a god looking down on her handiwork. If she squinted hard, she could even see the people moving around down there. Right now she wished she could reach down into the sands of Egypt and pick Jon up with her fingertips to bring him home.