Greene's Calling: Seventeen Book Three (A Supernatural Action Adventure Thriller Series 3) (19 page)

Connelly ended the connection abruptly. Conrad stared at the blank screen and let out the breath he had been holding. His darkest fears were being realized. Instead of combining their forces to find the real culprit behind these alarming events, the countries involved were starting to fight with each other. He wondered if the enemy had also anticipated this. He tried to shake off the wave of pessimism threatening to swamp him. It wasn’t like him to be so negative.

Maybe I’m losing my touch
, he thought. A mirthless chuckle almost escaped his lips at that notion. If so, he had chosen absolutely the worst mission of his immortal existence to do so.

Conrad felt an intense stare on his face. He looked up into Laura’s golden-green eyes. She blinked and lowered her gaze. He considered her for a beat before glancing at the two men.

‘Get some sleep,’ he ordered, an edge of steel returning to his voice. ‘We’re gonna have to up our game if we want to catch these bastards.’

Laura slid into the seat across the aisle some time later.

‘You sure seem pissed off with these guys,’ she said after a short silence.

Conrad swiveled his head and observed her steadily. Her eyes were hooded, their expression concealed by the dimmed cabin lights. ‘Remember when I said that the plane crashed near my place?’ he muttered.

Puzzled lines puckered her brow. ‘Uh-huh.’

Conrad sighed. ‘It landed on my house.’

Laura stared. Her lips twitched.

Conrad raised his eyebrows, incredulous. ‘Are you laughing at me?’

A strangled sound escaped her. ‘No.’ A snort contradicted her weak denial.

‘You are, aren’t you?’

She bit her lip.

Conrad could hardly believe she was talking to him so easily, after three hundred years of stony silence. Not for the first time, he wondered what the emotion was he had glimpsed on her face in the parking lot at the FedEx Field earlier that day.

‘How well do you know Connelly and Donaghy?’ he asked.

Surprise darted across her face. She arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you wondering if one of them is the mole?’

Conrad remained silent.

Laura studied him for a moment. ‘Sarah Connelly is the daughter of US Senator Connelly,’ she said finally. ‘She worked in the State Department for a number of years, first in the Foreign Service, then the Bureau of Intelligence and Research. She was the Deputy National Security Advisor before she was promoted to Director of National Intelligence a year ago.’

‘And Donaghy?’ said Conrad.

Laura sighed. ‘Claire Donaghy is an ex-army brat. Her father is a decorated war veteran and her mother worked for the US Air Force. The woman would quite literally bite a bullet rather than betray her country. I doubt either of them is our double agent.’

‘Seems you did your research,’ said Conrad.

‘I like to know who I’m working with.’

He looked over his shoulder to where Stevens sat at the back of the plane.

Laura followed his gaze. She stiffened. ‘I can vouch for Harry,’ she said in a hard voice. ‘I’ve known him since he joined the service.’

‘The two of you seem close,’ Conrad said with a neutral inflection.

Laura leaned back in her seat. ‘I’ve been his mentor for the last five years. His wife asked me to be a bridesmaid at their wedding.’

Conrad felt guilty at the wave of relief that shot through him. ‘Were you?’

‘Was I what?’

‘A bridesmaid?’

Her lips curved in a faint smile. ‘Yes, I was.’ Her expression sobered. She hesitated. ‘Conrad?’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘I trust Harry with my life,’ Laura murmured.

Conrad’s breath caught at the tortured look that clouded her features. She turned to face the window.

He knew exactly when she drifted off from the way her breathing slowed and her ribcage rose and fell more steadily. The immortal watched his soulmate for a long time, a lump clogging his throat as he allowed the flicker of hope that had been living in the very depths of his soul since that morning to burst into bright flames.

He finally closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.

It was noon the following day when they landed at the airport just outside the town of Erfurt, in central Germany.

Conrad was the last to exit the aircraft. He stopped at the top of the cabin steps and shivered. A bitter wind coursed across the tarmac and stung the exposed skin of his face. The sun was a pale orb in the overcast sky, the heavy clouds holding the promise of early snow. The immortal sighed. After sixty years in the Amazon, he was finding it hard to acclimate to the continental weather. He stretched out the kinks in his neck and joined the others on the ground.

A pair of black BMW four-by-fours pulled out of the shadow of an aircraft hangar and slowed to a stop twenty feet from the Learjet. Two men in dark suits stepped out of the vehicles and headed their way.

‘Agent Hartwell?’ said the blond guy in the lead in accented English. He extended a welcoming hand.

‘Yes,’ said Laura. She shook his hand firmly.

‘Jonas Schulze, German security agency,’ said the man. He indicated the guy behind him. ‘This is my colleague, Karl Bauer, from the Criminal Police.’

Laura introduced their team.

‘So, you in charge of the investigation?’ Bauer asked Greene, his tone belligerent.

Conrad observed him with a neutral expression. ‘Yes.’

A bleak smile stretched Bauer’s lips. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing. Your government appears to have ruffled feathers in the Ministry of Interior this morning. From what I hear, the Russians aren’t too pleased with the way you guys are throwing your weight around either.’

Conrad narrowed his eyes at the German policeman in the tense silence that followed. ‘I am well aware of the scope of my task, Mr. Bauer. Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn if some of your politicians don’t like the way we’re doing things. I’m not here to indulge them or their precious sensibilities.’

A choked noise erupted from Anatole. Bauer stared stonily at Conrad before turning on his heels and striding toward one of the vehicles.

Schulze sighed. ‘Don’t mind him,’ said the German agent with an apologetic shrug. ‘He doesn’t like US Intelligence interfering in our domestic affairs.’

‘In that case, he might be pleased to know Greene is local,’ said Anatole with a smile. His expression sobered at Laura’s and Conrad’s expressions. ‘What? It’s not exactly a state secret, is it?’

‘I swear to God, one of these days,’ Laura muttered. She stormed off after Bauer. Stevens followed.

Schulze regarded Conrad curiously. ‘You’re from Germany?’ he said in German.

The immortal fought back a sigh. ‘Yes, I am,’ he admitted reluctantly in his birth tongue.

‘That’s funny.’ The agent frowned. ‘I can’t place your accent.’

‘I’ve not been here for a while,’ Conrad said dismissively as they walked to the second four-by-four.

He caught a barely audible, ‘Yeah, like try three hundred and sixty odd years,’ behind him and frowned at Anatole over his shoulder.

‘All right, all right. My lips are sealed. See?’ Anatole made a zipping motion across his mouth. Conrad rolled his eyes and got into the seat next to Schulze.

The drive to Arnstadt lasted just under a quarter of an hour and took them through an undulating terrain of low elevations and open countryside. Snow capped the summits of bluffs and dusted the canopies of woodland covering the foothills of far-off mountains. Winter had arrived early in this part of the continent.

Sunlight finally broke through the low cloud cover as they drove past the town on their way to the Obenhaus site. It bathed the gray spires and red roofs of churches in streams of golden light and highlighted the autumnal leaves clinging to the trees and shrubs rising up the slopes of the hills framing the settlement to the south and west.

Three miles after they entered a valley outside Arnstadt, a dense wall of conifers appeared to their right. A discreet road sign announcing the Obenhaus plant materialized shortly afterward. The four-by-fours turned next to it and headed onto a driveway that cut through the banks of towering trees. Conrad spotted a small notice announcing that they were entering private grounds owned by the Obenhaus Group.

The conifers formed an extensive windbreak, their overhanging branches creating a shadowy tunnel that muffled the sound of the vehicles’ tires rolling across the asphalt. Two thousand feet after they left the main road, a pair of steel gates came into view up ahead. A perimeter fence topped by rolls of barbed wire stretched out on either side of the entrance and disappeared between the trees.

Schulze braked by a security booth and lowered his window.

‘Mr. Obenhaus is expecting us,’ the agent told the sentry inside in German. He showed the man his badge.

The guard checked the computer tablet in front of him and picked up a phone.

‘They’ve got good surveillance,’ said Anatole in a low voice.

Conrad followed his second-in-command’s pensive gaze to the cameras atop the entrance.

‘You noticed the ones on the drive?’ said Anatole.

‘Yes,’ Conrad replied.

‘Fence looks electrified as well,’ the red-haired immortal remarked.

The sentry lowered the phone back into its cradle. He typed a code in a security panel and engaged a switch. The gates swung open smoothly.

‘Go straight through,’ the man said with a heavy Thuringian accent. ‘Take the first left, then a right. Someone will be waiting for you in the main reception.’

They drove onto a road lined with mature fir trees and reached the first crossroads seconds later. The plant’s main factories appeared at the far end of the compound. The other constructions Conrad had seen on the satellite feed were partially obscured by further windbreaks.

Schulze followed the directions the guard had given him and turned onto a circular drive fronting a pair of globe-shaped, glass and steel buildings rising in the middle of a landscaped garden. He parked opposite a water fountain.

They climbed out of the vehicle just as Bauer’s BMW braked behind them. The German policeman and the two Secret Service agents joined them on the steps leading up to the entrance of the first building. They walked through the revolving doors at the top and entered a large, airy reception.

Anatole looked around and cocked an eyebrow. ‘Nice digs.’

‘Thank you,’ came a voice from the left in polished English.

Conrad turned and saw a man striding across the marble floor from a bank of lifts.

Maximilian Obenhaus was taller than he appeared to be in the picture they had seen of him the previous day. His white hair was combed back elegantly from his tanned face, and his casually stylish clothes fit his frame with an effortless ease that hinted at their costly price tag.

He walked up to Conrad and offered his hand. ‘Mr. Greene? Agent Donaghy told me you were coming.’

Conrad grasped the man’s fingers. The German’s grip was warm and firm. The immortal appraised the Obenhaus Group president’s steady, blue eyes and found them to be as shrewd as they had seemed in his photograph. He introduced the rest of his team and the Germans.

‘Criminal Police?’ Maximilian Obenhaus repeated in a pleasant tone. His gaze shifted from Bauer to Conrad. ‘Should I be concerned?’

‘As Donaghy no doubt explained, we believe you can assist us in our investigation,’ said Conrad.

He scanned the lobby and the smartly dressed figures navigating the extensive space. His eyes skimmed over the abstract sculpture in the middle of the floor and rose to the glass ceiling of the atrium above them. Another bank of lifts stood at the far side of the hall, the parallel shafts ascending through the three galleries running circumferentially around the building.

‘The matter we wish to discuss is somewhat sensitive,’ Conrad added in a low voice. ‘Can we talk in private?’

The Obenhaus Group president hesitated before inclining his head graciously. ‘Follow me.’

He twisted on his heels and led them to one of the elevators. They crowded inside the glass cabin and watched while he pressed his hand against a biometric display on the operating panel. The doors closed soundlessly.

‘This lift opens directly into my office,’ the man explained at their expressions.

‘Cool,’ said Anatole.

Maximilian Obenhaus grinned, seemingly oblivious to Laura’s chagrined expression.

Though he had only just met the man, Conrad’s instincts told him that the Obenhaus Group president had no affiliations with the enemy they were seeking. But someone in his company quite likely did.

Chapter Fifteen

‘A
re you absolutely certain of this?’

Obenhaus leaned back in the sleek, white-leather executive chair and raised his pressed hands to his lips. Sunlight streamed through the glass wall behind him. Beyond it was the vista of woodland that graced his official company photograph. The blue eyes that had been friendly up until ten minutes ago now watched them guardedly.

‘Yes,’ said Conrad. He glanced at the scattering of picture frames on the top of a sideboard to the left, his eyes skimming over the figures in the photographs. His gaze switched to the man on the other side of the glass desk. ‘The FBI technician who made the connection has triple-checked his findings and had his data confirmed overnight by a further two specialists in the field,’ he continued steadily. ‘One of them is based in Frankfurt.’ He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. ‘They are in no doubt that the polymer in the weapons and ammunitions used in the assassination attempt on the president of the United States yesterday is OG1140.’

A strained silence followed this statement.

‘This is a serious accusation indeed,’ Obenhaus said gravely. His brow puckered. ‘I should really be seeking legal advice instead of talking to you.’

Conrad studied him with a neutral expression. Lawyers would definitely complicate matters. For one thing, they would delay his team’s access to the plant. He had to convince Obenhaus to cooperate.

‘You are well within your rights to do so,’ the immortal admitted. ‘But allow me to say something. This has as much to do with the other grave events that have transpired around the world in the last twenty-four hours as it does with US security matters.’

Obenhaus’s eyes grew wide. He straightened in the chair. ‘Are you talking about the attempt on our chancellor’s life?’

Conrad glanced at the German agents. ‘Yes,’ he confirmed with a brief nod. ‘The US believes that the same group is behind the unsuccessful attempts on the British, French, and Chinese premiers, as well as the execution of the Russian president.’

Obenhaus had gone pale. ‘I heard the news this morning.’ His expression suddenly hardened. ‘I know our chancellor personally. What can I do to help?’

Conrad swallowed a sigh of relief. ‘We’d like to take a look at the plant where this polymer is being manufactured.’

Obenhaus hesitated. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But can I ask that you leave any mobile devices with inbuilt cameras in my office? The place I’m taking you to is highly secure.’ He looked apologetic. ‘I wouldn’t want our trade secrets to get into the hands of our competitors.’

Conrad looked at the Secret Service and German agents.

Laura shrugged. ‘Sure.’

‘We understand,’ said Schulze.

Bauer’s lips tightened in a thin line. He opened his mouth, paused, and nodded curtly.

Obenhaus locked their phones in his personal safe and led them through the main door of his office. His secretary startled when they passed her desk.

‘Mr. Obenhaus! Sir, I didn’t know your guests had arrived,’ she said, flushing.