“Ross? It wasn’t easy. We stressed the uniqueness of this situation. We reminded him that a private American citizen had risked her very life to help us. Zane and I are usually pretty adept at making our case. How do you say it in English? We know how to push his buttons?”
“And that was enough?” Amanda asked.
“No. His preference was to give you an all-expenses-paid vacation to some tropical resort without yours truly and without Zane. He said Zane and I were prime targets and therefore needed to stay away from friends and family. Which is when I suggested we stay here.”
“But Valente is your uncle. I hope I’m not putting you guys in any sort of danger.”
“You’re not. Valente is only a distant uncle, and I’ve always kept our relationship private. Because of his wealth, and because of his status in the community, I’d say three-quarters of the people who live in and around Florence know who he is.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, but it’s not how I want to be known. I love him because he’s one of the most loving men I know. To me, he’s not a millionaire art dealer… he’s just my uncle.”
Carmen stopped as Zane walked back into the room and sat down. “That was the Oracle. Apparently, we ruffled quite a few feathers in Bern and in Paris.”
“Uh oh.”
“Since we don’t technically exist, the Director has stepped in and taken the reins. All the Swiss and French know is that we were intelligence operatives.”
“But it still sounds like a diplomatic nightmare.”
“The good news is that the Director was able to smooth everything over with the Swiss. The French may take a little more work, although he thinks that in the end they’ll forgive us as well. He reminded them that the largest particle physics laboratory in the world might have become a giant crater had we not intervened.”
“Was that enough to placate them for now?”
“Their response was that we should’ve brought them in once we knew where Markus VanGelder was being taken.”
“We had our reasons for not telling them,” Carmen said, “but it’s understandable that they would be pissed.”
As Zane took another sip of the Dolcetto, he thought about all that had happened over the last few weeks. He would always be grateful for his new friend, Pastor Philippe Bachand. It was Philippe who had grabbed him after the explosion, which had been the result of the collider being powered down so quickly. It was also Philippe who had used every remaining ounce of strength to drag him back to the elevator, whisking him away to safety just as the underground chamber became choked with flames.
Zane finished the last of the Dolcetto and set the glass on the table. He still felt uneasy about some of the memories he had of the events at CERN. How much of what he remembered was true? He still didn’t know, even after spending time with a DC shrink the Oracle had recommended. The mind is a powerful thing, the man had said; it had the capacity to perceive the real, and it also had the capacity to fabricate that which was not real. He said exhaustion, the lingering effects of the drugs, and the smoke inhalation could very well have combined to create a cocktail of fantastical images.
And if some partition had been opened, letting in some unspeakable horror, the abrupt shutting down of the collider had apparently sucked everything back through the portal before it closed again. The French and Swiss authorities claimed to have searched every square inch of the buildings and all seventeen miles of tunnel. They never found Marrese, and they never found anything else.
The operative planned on visiting Pastor Philippe at some point in the future, but he still wasn’t sure if he’d ask him what he saw that night. The answer might raise more questions than it answered. The operative thought that he'd rather just let the images fade.
Antoneo suddenly appeared from the back of the room with an open bottle of Dolcetto, prepared to refill the operative’s empty glass. Zane wasn't sure whether he should continue drinking but finally nodded. It was vacation, so why not? He turned to Carmen and picked up where they had left off. “The Director reminded the Swiss and French that we didn't know VanGelder was there until we actually went in. And there wasn’t sufficient time to bring in a police force big enough to handle the job. By the time we got there, they had already commandeered the facility and starting up the collider.”
“True,” Carmen replied, “but you still can’t blame them for being a little hot.”
“No, you’re right,” Zane said. “To be honest, we were very fortunate that most of our operation took place on Swiss soil. They tend to be pretty even-tempered about these kinds of things.”
“So there are no repercussions?” Carmen asked.
“Only one. If we ever need to operate on Swiss soil again, we have to get permission from the FIS first.”
“I guess it could’ve been worse. Did the Oracle say whether we were going to abide by that?”
“He said, ‘We’ll see.’”
Carmen laughed.
“The good news is that the FIS is great to work with. I’ve already been in touch with my contacts over there, trying to help in their search our friend, the priest.”
Amanda leaned forward in her chair. “Wait a minute, are you talking about Marrese? He wasn’t caught?”
“No, he wasn’t.” Zane studied his wineglass. He had a vague memory of seeing Marrese’s body being thrown against the tunnel wall, although like everything else, he couldn’t be sure it hadn’t been a hallucination. Who knew whether the former priest was alive or dead? The explosion had been so intense that even if a body were there, it had probably been incinerated.
“Weren’t his disciples arrested? Don’t they know where he is?”
“Yes, but they’ll never give him up. Their group was essentially a cult, and these disciples were brainwashed by the master of such things. They would rather die than betray him.”
“And what about the German?”
“He died instantly,” Carmen answered. “We would have preferred to have taken him alive so that he could face justice, but Keiko did the only thing she could to save all of us, including Dr. VanGelder.”
Amanda’s eyes began to water upon hearing the robot’s name. She stared at the floor for a moment before speaking, “And Keiko, did—”
But she was unable to finish, choked up with emotion. She knew the answer to the question and didn’t need to ask. Carmen placed a hand on Amanda’s knee and squeezed it. Carmen then exchanged an odd glance with Zane, who turned to the back of the room and spoke using his limited Italian. “Antoneo, can you bring Amanda another orange juice please?”
The butler bowed slightly, gave him a knowing smile, and disappeared down the hall.
Carmen put her arm around Amanda and pulled her close. “I know it must be hard. Keiko was special. She was almost like one of us, only without all the complications. Your father would have been proud.”
Amanda sniffled, tears flowing down both cheeks. She had been tough for so long, but it was time to release all of the emotions that had built up over the last several weeks.
“And I’ll say this,” Carmen continued. “I don’t know if love is the right word, because I’m not sure any of us truly knows what that means, but she cared about you and your father deeply.”
Amanda began to sob, overwhelmed with grief.
But suddenly there was a sound at the back of the room that caused her to stop crying. It was a low whine, like the movement of mechanical parts. Strange, yet familiar.
As the noise approached, Amanda lifted her head but didn’t turn around. She seemed confused and yet strangely excited at the same time.
Soon the whining stopped, and a gloved hand appeared at her side, holding a glass of orange juice.