Days' End (25 page)

“I need you to settle down, Margaret,” Alastair said softly from the back seat. He leaned forward. “I need you to act like it’s any other routine trip. If we show up and you’re sweaty and looking nervous, the guards might be tipped off that something is amiss. If that happens, I don’t know what will happen, but I don’t think either of us wants to find out. Just try to relax. Think about whatever is waiting at home for you when you get home this evening. Think about sitting down with a nice glass of wine and a book. Anything, but you need to get that look off your face. I can tell something is up, and I’m only looking at the back of your head.”

“I’m trying,” she whimpered. “I’m just so scared.”

“There’s nothing for you to be scared of if we do this right. They’re expecting me. They don’t know that I’ve already been trying to get there. There’s no reason for them to question you. You’re just doing your job.”

“I’ll try.” She shifted in her seat and took a deep breath. Alastair could see her trying to relax.

“Good. Let’s just take it nice and easy and everything will be fine.” They pulled up to the gate a short time later.

“I’m here to drop off Mr. Mann,” she told the guard.

“Sorry, I don’t have you on the schedule.”

“Then put me on the schedule,” she snapped. “I was told to drop off Mr. Mann.”

“May I see your ID? Thank you, just a moment.” The guard stepped back into the booth and picked up the phone. Alastair could see her tensing in her seat.

“Nice and easy,” he whispered.

The guard spoke for a few moments, then hung up the phone and walked back to the car. He handed her the ID. “Nobody bothered to call and put you on the authorized persons list. I just spoke with my boss and he cleared you. Sorry for the inconvenience.” The guard stepped back inside and flipped the switch to lift the gate. “Have a good day, ma’am.”

Alastair heard the expulsion of air from her lungs as she rolled up the window and proceeded through the checkpoint.

“Well done. I don’t think anyone could have done better. I especially liked the part where you told him to put you on the list. I don’t think I could have done that.”

“Like you said, just like any other drop off, right? You’re the customer, I answer to you. Sometimes you have to be a little stern with the guards to get your job done.” Alastair could see a smile form on her face in the rearview mirror. She pulled up slowly to the front doors, exited the car, and hurried around to open his door.

“Thank you, Margaret. Thank you for everything.” Before getting out of the car he had taken out all the cash he had in his wallet. He gave the two hundred and one dollars to her. “Here’s everything I have on me. I’d give you more if I had it. I can’t thank you enough. God bless you and your family.” Alastair shook her hand, grabbed his bag, and walked quickly to the door.

He was greeted by the largest and most intimidating man he’d ever seen. He opened the door as Alastair approached.

“Mr. Mann?”

“Yes.” Alastair replied. “I was told you have a problem.”

The mountain of a man stood aside so he could enter and closed the door behind him. Alastair swallowed hard as heard the click of the locking mechanism.

“Indeed we do. I’m Joseph, Chief of Security. For some reason the security program keeps shutting down. I’ve heard you are the best person to fix it. Is that right?” The man eyed him warily.

“Fortunately or unfortunately, yes,” Alastair said. “I was the lead programmer on Unique so I have the most intimate knowledge of the code.” Alastair shifted uneasily from foot to foot. He felt uncomfortable as the man looked him up and down, apparently sizing him up.

It seemed he passed the test, as the muscular man turned and walked to the elevators. “Right this way, Mr. Mann.” Alastair was silent during the short trip up to the second floor. They made their way through what appeared to be a cafeteria and a small restaurant to an out of the way and, in all ways, unremarkable door. The guard took a small card from his pocket, swiped it, and opened the door. “The server room,” he stated as Alastair stepped across the threshold into the cool, dry room. “I’m going to leave you here to do, well, whatever it is you need to do. If you need anything, or when you’re finished, there’s a phone over in the corner. Just dial 9-1-1, and you’ll be connected directly to me. I’ll get whatever you need, or come get you if you’ve finished. Is there anything you need before I go?”

“No.” Alastair answered. “Nothing I can think of. Thank you.” He stepped further into the room and set his laptop down on a small table.

“Very well.” The guard shut the door, leaving Alastair alone in the server room. He quickly opened his bag and connected his laptop to the security server. His first order of business had been determined the day of his father’s funeral. He would find and kill the man responsible for his father’s death.

He checked the security cameras to make sure a sentry had not been posted outside the door to the room. Next he flipped from camera to camera to locate the guards. From what he could tell, Joseph was the only one in the building and Alastair had seen him walk into a door marked Security on the first floor. From the blueprints Alastair knew that was the main security control room. He quickly checked his keycards to make sure they were working, plugged in one of the wireless web jacks, put the other one in his pocket along with the revolver and his iPOD, and moved over to the solitary door. He swiped one of his fake cards over the key card panel. If he’d programmed everything correctly, Joseph’s screen showing the back of the restaurant would freeze, showing only an empty corridor.

He slowly opened the door and peeked out. There was nobody around. He snuck down the hall, back through the empty restaurant and into the cafeteria. He pulled his iPOD out of his pocket and used it to access his laptop in the server room. Checking the security camera system, he verified his invisibility. He was standing in the dead center of the deserted cafeteria, yet the image he was looking at showed a room empty of any inhabitants.

Satisfied that his program was running smoothly, he hurried to the elevator, entered his card, and pushed the button for B-20, Scario’s master suite. The elevator lurched slightly before beginning its descent. Alastair stood waiting, expecting the doors to open at any moment to reveal a guard alerted to his activity. His heart jack-hammered in his chest; his palms were sweaty and slippery. Alastair turned his head to look at the floor indicator when the elevator arrived. He stepped out into a dimly lit hallway ending at a magnificent door. Scario’s suite occupied the whole level. He gave silent thanks that he hadn’t soiled himself and hustled down the short hall.

Alastair would ask him one question: Where is Nysa? Then he would kill him. Regardless of whether or not Alastair got his answer, he was going to kill the man. Rage began replacing his fear as images of his father lying on the bed in the hotel raced through his mind. His fury grew as his thoughts shifted to the cemetery, the warnings, and the condescending way Scario had spoken to Alastair. Alastair stepped quickly to the door, his blood boiling with hatred.

Utilizing his fraudulent card, he opened the door and walked in, gun at the ready, searching for any threats. He moved from one room to the next until he was sure he was alone. After searching the suite, Alastair began looking through Scario’s desk for anything that might help him find out what was going on and how he could find Nysa.

In the bottom left drawer of Scario’s desk, Alastair found reams of research regarding the Shroud of Turin. One Time magazine headline read “Shroud of Turin, Shroud of Mystery.” Alastair flipped to the article, which told of the carbon dating done on the Catholic Church’s acclaimed Shroud of Turin. The results dated the fabric well past the time of Jesus, more along the timeline of Leonardo da Vinci. In fact, many of the chemicals that were discovered in the supposed Shroud were extremely rare and originated from areas around Vinci, Italy. Some scholars believed the Shroud was painted by Leonardo himself as commissioned by the Church.

Flipping through the article, Alastair grew more and more uneasy with what he was finding. He stood up and wandered around the room looking at the artwork as well as the books lining the walls. He was searching for something and wasn’t quite sure what it was he was looking for, just that he’d know it when he found it. His collection was amazing. Alastair picked up a copy of what appeared to be a journal. He opened it to the first page and was shocked at the brittleness of the paper. The book was written in some foreign language so Alastair set it back down and continued perusing the shelves.

He finally discovered one written in English. He skimmed the entries, quickening his pace as he realized what he was looking at. The more he read the more he began to believe that not only had Scario been alive during the days of DaVinci, but also when Christ had walked the earth. He’d been alive for the last two thousand years! Judas Iscariot was not his alias, it was his true identity! Alastair felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach and collapsed into the chair. A cold sweat broke out across his brow and chilled him to the very core.

If he was, in fact, the man Alastair believed him to be, how would Alastair kill him? He was immortal, doomed to walk the earth until the second coming of Christ. There was nothing Alastair could do to him, nothing!

Terror and dread fought for control of his feelings. After a few minutes he managed to regain his composure. As much as he hated to admit there was nothing he could do to avenge his father’s death, his main purpose here was still attainable—to find Nysa. He set the book back on the shelf from which he had taken it and turned around. There on the desk sat the only thing in the room that might help him find Nysa: the computer. He sat down and turned it on.

December 24, 5:50 PM

They had both given up on their books and turned to watching one of the movies the nurse had brought down. They were far too nervous and excited to keep their minds focused, so while the movie played on the television, the women chatted intermittently about what was to come. Jacqueline was beginning to feel the beginnings of labor pains, but nothing painful enough to necessitate the epidural. Nysa sat by her, feeling nauseated with anticipation. She got up and got a drink of water to try and settle her stomach.

December 24, 6:05 PM

He stepped slowly off the elevator when it arrived, turned left, and walked to the door to Nysa’s room. His card worked on her door. He slipped inside and turned on the lights. Alastair made a brief tour of her room to confirm she wasn’t there. He recognized some of her personal effects, including a framed picture of the two of them on the nightstand, so he knew this was her room, but where she’d gone off to was impossible to tell.

The elevator bell sounded and Alastair froze. Did they know he was here? Were they searching for him? He removed the gun from his pocket and backed into the bathroom, giving him a clear line of sight to the bedroom door. He hoped there would be only one guard, if that’s who was coming. He could handle one with surprise on his side, but any more than that and he’d be in trouble. He heard the handle to the room move.

December 24, 6:15 PM

Alastair moved cautiously out of the bathroom toward the bedroom door. He kept his gun ready and glanced around the corner toward the front door. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he approached the door and looked through the peep hole. Nothing, the hallway was empty. Apparently it had only been a guard on his rounds and the noise Alastair had heard was him checking to make sure the door was locked. He watched and waited a while longer to see if anyone came out of the other room. When he was pretty sure the coast was clear, he pulled the other web jack out of his pocket, plugged it in, and sat down on the sofa with his iPOD.

According to the system, Nysa’s card had last been used to access the elevator on level fifteen and she had taken it up to level two just before 12:30 P.M. Alastair checked the map. She’d gone from her room to the medical facilities area, but that was six hours ago. She couldn’t still be there, could she?

“Well, it’s a lead,” he mumbled. “Better than sitting here waiting to get caught.”

After a quick peek into the hall to ensure it was empty, he walked swiftly to the elevator, pushed the call button, and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, gripping the gun tightly in his right hand. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if confronted by anyone before he found Nysa, but he hoped that if he just acted like he belonged, he wouldn’t be questioned. The elevator door opened and he stood face to face with one of the guards.

December 24, 6:30 PM

The contractions had come on with a vengeance and the anesthesiologist had been summoned to administer an epidural. Nysa was in a chair facing the bed as Jacqueline sat in a hunched over position trying to give the doctor as much room between her vertebrae as possible. Nysa held her hands and talked to her as the doctor passed the needle up and into her spine. The first attempt had been unsuccessful, and they were now going to make a second attempt in a separate location. Nysa’s nausea returned. As she sat listening to Jacqueline grunting and whimpering in pain she started to feel flushed. One of the nurses turned and saw the look on Nysa’s face.

“Are you okay?” the nurse asked.

“Yeah,” replied Nysa, trying to pull herself together. She started to sit up to look at what the doctor was doing when the room went black.

When she awoke, she was lying on the couch in the corner of the room. Nysa slowly sat up. Jacqueline turned and looked over.

“She’s alive!” she shouted, doing her best Dr. Frankenstein.

“Um, sorry about that. I guess I wasn’t quite as okay as I thought,” Nysa answered sheepishly. “Did everything go alright?”

“Just fine. The medicine’s starting to kick in so the contractions don’t hurt as much. How are you?”

“A little woozy still. I don’t know what happened.”

A nurse walked into the room carrying a tray. She set it on the table, grabbed a cup of orange juice and walked over to Nysa.