No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery) (35 page)

I calculated the distance and the time I needed to make a dash for the stop. Six seconds. It was an iffy estimate, a bit tight considering how out-of-shape I was, but I could make it. Barely.

“Keep walking. And don’t stare at the tram. Take judicious glances.”

“Okay,” I said, my chest feeling tight.

A tremor shook in my leg muscles and my breathing had become shallow as if I’d already been running for miles. I forced myself to calm down. Relax, focus and concentrate. All I needed was six frigging seconds. I could do it.

The tram pulled up to the stop, the doors opened and some people got off. The young woman with the little boy climbed on.

My hands clenched into fists and I ground my teeth together.

Wait…wait…wait.

Sweat slid down my temples, plastering my hair to the sides of my cheeks.

Don’t screw it up, Carmichael. There’s a hell of a lot riding on you.

I waited until the last woman lifted her foot to climb on to the tram. “Now,” I breathed.

At exactly the same moment, Elvis and I made our moves.

I heard the warning shouts behind me, but adrenaline surged through my veins as I swung aboard the tram with one second to spare before the doors closed. I dared a glance out the window and saw that Elvis had done exactly what he had said he would and blocked the path of the closest agent—the young man who was half of the cute, giggling couple. Elvis had stepped into his path, neatly tripping him and sending him sprawling face-first into the pavement before effectively disappearing into the gathering crowd. The pretty young woman raced after the tram, but she was too far behind to catch me.

At this point all the agents following me had abandoned any pretense of discretion and were either running or shouting. The thin blonde woman was shouting into a cell phone and I spotted the bald man dashing toward a parked car. But the tram picked up speed and there was nothing they could do but watch as we sped out of sight. They now knew I was headed for Djurgarden Island, but it was a big place with lots of tourist attractions, so it would likely take them some time to find me. It was all the head start I needed to talk with Basia. I only prayed she’d be on time for our rendezvous because if she wasn’t, things would start to fall apart fast.

I got off at the stop for the Grona Lunds Tivoli Amusement Park directly in front of the ferry docks. Even though it was nearly eleven-thirty at night the crowd was young, and it was a good place for me to blend in. I pulled my blue sweatshirt out of the tote bag and over my head and then tucked my hair up into a ball cap. It wasn’t a sophisticated disguise and it certainly wouldn’t hide me forever, but it might give me a few extra minutes.

I made my way toward the Nordic Museum, staying as much as I could with the crowd. I didn’t spot anyone tailing me and hoped that would hold for a while longer. The museum was the most conspicuous building on the island. I made a circle around the structure, but didn’t see anyone. A glance at my watch indicated it was eleven-thirty on the dot.

“Come on, Basia,” I breathed and leaned against a door on the east entrance, which was partially obscured by some bushes.

Exactly one minute later, I saw a lone figure in jeans and a green blouse walking toward the front steps. The size and shape of the figure was right, but the hair was too short and light blond. It was the way she walked that gave her away.

I stepped out from the side of the museum. “Basia!”

She turned quickly and then broke into a run. Before I had taken no more than two steps toward her, she had already collided with me at full force, her arms thrown tight around my neck.

“Lexi,” she said. “Oh my God. I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my entire life.”

“You dyed your hair.” As if I didn’t have anything more important to say like “I’m glad you’re alive,” or “We’re in serious trouble.”

She stepped back, her face pale and drawn. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to get here in time.”

“Hey, a little faith, please. I work for the NSA, remember?”

She had lost a lot of weight and the blouse hung from her petite form in a way that kind of scared me. “Did you come alone?”

“More or less,” I said. “I left Finn Shaughnessy handcuffed to a bed in the hotel. But that’s a story for another time.”

Her eyes widened and then she noticed the sling. “What happened to your arm?”

“A three-hundred-pound thug fell on it while trying to kill me.”

She gasped. “Oh, God, Lexi. I’m so sorry to have dragged you into all of this. I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“It’s okay. Look, we don’t have a lot of time for chit-chat before things go down.” I glanced at my watch and saw we had about two minutes until the party started. “Is Judyta safe?”

“Yes, for the time being. What do you mean ‘before things go down’?”

“You’ll see. You just have to trust me and follow my lead. But whatever you do, absolutely, positively and under
no
circumstances are you to give away Judyta’s whereabouts until I give you the go-ahead. Got it?”

Panic started to creep into Basia’s eyes. “Lexi, what’s going on?”

“A hell of a lot more than Judyta bargained for,” I said, steering Basia toward a bench and motioning for her to sit. “How is she?”

“Mentally, she’s frightened. Physically, she’s fine. Lexi, Judyta had the baby yesterday.”

My mouth fell open. “Yesterday?”

“Yes. She gave birth to a little boy.”

“Okay,” I said, breathing fast. This changed things. “Was it healthy?”

“As a horse,” she said, smiling. “He’s a big baby. Judyta named him Tadeusz, or Tadek for short.”

My heart started to thud uncomfortably. I had no idea how to break the news to her or how to soften the blow. “Basia, look, I don’t know of an easier way to say this to you, so just prepare yourself.”

“Prepare myself for what?”

“Tadek is not an ordinary baby.”

“What do you mean?”

I held my breath then expelled it with a whoosh. “Judyta gave birth to a clone.”

Shock melded with complete disbelief on her face. “A
what?
”

“A clone. Judyta was implanted with a clone. She was a surrogate for what may be the world’s first successfully born human clone. That’s what this whole mess is about.”

“But I saw him. He’s just a tiny little baby.”

“Yeah, that’s the whole idea.” I tried to soften my tone. “Where did she deliver? I mean, you didn’t take her to the hospital, did you?”

Basia shook her head. “No, we didn’t dare risk it. The family we are staying with knows a midwife. She helped Judyta deliver.”

“This family—are they friends of Lars Anderson?”

“Yes.”

“I knew he was up to his neck in this!” I exclaimed. “Why is he helping you?”

Basia looked down at her hands. “Lars and I have a history.”

“A history? Like you dated him?”

“Sort of.”

I blew out an impatient breath. “We don’t have time for ambiguity, Basia. Spill.”

She chewed her lower lip and I had never seen her look so sad or miserable. “Well, remember our first year at Georgetown? The following summer I went to Poland to do some translation work for the Polish military. They were conducting joint exercises with U.S. and Swedish special ops teams and I served as a three-way translator. The captain of the Swedish team was Lars.”

“And?”

“I fell for him. Hard. I was nineteen, young and stupid. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to fool around with a participant, but I was nuts about him. We managed to keep our affair a secret, but we were caught.”

I shrugged. “So what? It’s not like he was your superior or anything. You were two consenting adults after all.”

“It’s not so simple. Lars and I were so embarrassed, but that’s not the worst part. Lexi, Lars was married.”

“Oh, crap.”

“According to Lars, he and his wife were on the verge of breaking up but I swear I didn’t know. He didn’t tell me until after we’d been found out. I felt used and betrayed. Somehow I finished up the translation job.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this? I thought we were best friends.”

“Because I was ashamed. I was the other woman. I didn’t want you to think badly of me. Lars contacted me during our second year at Georgetown, but I didn’t respond. He divorced his wife, resigned from his special ops unit and moved to the U.S. to start a new life. He’s been calling me periodically over the past several years, but I never responded until all of this stuff with Judyta started happening.”

“And you responded by signing up for his karate class?” I asked in disbelief.

“No. We just used that for cover. After everything with Judyta started going down, I needed a safe place for her to go. I immediately thought of Lars. I wanted to get her out of Poland, and Sweden is close. Lars agreed to help, so we’re staying with an old military buddy of his out in the country.”

“I bet the affair was never made an official military part of Lars’s record,” I murmured thoughtfully. That’s probably why Slash hadn’t made the connection between Lars and Basia.

On the other hand, Slash had never offered me the information that Lars had once been part of a Swedish special ops team. I was positive he had dug that deep into Lars’s background, although I bet that little tidbit had intrigued, as well as greatly worried, him. I would venture a guess it had also helped Judyta and Basia evade detection for so long. Lars was a pro.

“Lexi, how can you be so certain Judyta’s baby is a clone?” Basia asked. “Maybe this is all a big mistake.” Yet even as she said the words, I could see the truth of the situation sinking in for her.

“I wish it were a mistake,” I said, sighing, and then glanced at my watch. Bouker was late. I didn’t see anyone else arriving either, but time was getting tight and I expected things to go down any minute.

“Look, Basia, I need to know what Judyta wants. Do you think she’d still want to keep the baby after learning about this?”

Basia gripped my hand and squeezed so hard I winced. “Lexi, Judyta loves that baby. It’s hers now. I can guarantee it won’t matter to her who or even
what
Tadek is. You have to promise me that you’ll help figure out a way to let her keep him.”

“Okay. I’m working on it.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Well, hopefully I’ve led everyone who has any interest in the whereabouts of Judyta Taszynski to this exact spot. My game plan is to break the whole thing wide open by holding an information auction of sorts.”

Basia looked at me in surprise. “An information auction? Here?”

“Yes. Time isn’t on our side, Basia. You have some of the world’s best intelligence agencies looking for you. It won’t be too long before they find Judyta. If we want to settle this on her terms, it’s going to have to be here and now.”

“Oh, God. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Actually, I’m having second thoughts, but it’s too late now. The interested parties are scheduled to start arriving any minute.”

Basia closed her eyes and I thought she was a lot more composed than I would have been in her situation. “I didn’t even know human cloning was possible,” she murmured.

“Science has been on the verge for many years. Honestly, it was only a matter of time before it happened. It still doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. And, Basia, I’m sorry, but things could get worse.”

“Worse? What can possibly be worse than this?”

“Well, Bright Horizons, the clinic where Judyta was impregnated, almost went bankrupt until someone apparently found a way to provide a decent cash infusion by offering clones to the very rich and very discreet. But someone else also got a whiff of Bright Horizons’ cloning operation and had the brilliant idea to use it for furthering a political cause.”

Dismay and fascination clouded her expression. “What kind of cause?” she asked almost fearfully.

“Do you know who Samir Al-Naddi is?”

“Isn’t he some terrorist nutcase?”

“Yes. Well, he apparently had his followers assassinate the two bodyguards carrying Al-Asan’s DNA samples for the cloning procedure and then switched it with his own. His followers delivered the sample containing Al-Naddi’s DNA to the clinic, where it was eventually planted into the surrogate mothers.”

Basia shook her head vigorously, horrified disbelief etched on her face. “Oh, no. No, no, no. You can’t possibly mean to say Judyta just gave birth to a clone of a…a
terrorist.
”

“Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I mean.”

“Then who is trying to kill her?”

“We are.”

He had moved so quietly that I hadn’t even heard him. I gasped and whirled around on the bench to see Rashid Bouker standing behind me with a small revolver in his hand. I put a hand to my heart to steady the gallop.

“Jeez, what took you so long?” I asked. “You’re late. Sit down.”

He blinked in shock. “You’re
expecting
me?”

“Yes. You’re the first of many people I’m expecting. So, put the gun away. You won’t need it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said. We’re about to have an interesting little party.”

His face was incredulous. “You set me up?”

“You and everyone else. You don’t really think the tip about my rendezvous with Ms. Kowalski here in Sweden at exactly this time was just a stroke of good fortune, do you? I need you here, Bouker. I want to know exactly why you are so anxious to find Judyta Taszynski.”

“I warned you to stay out of this,” Bouker threatened. “You would have been wise to take my advice, Miss Carmichael.”

“Who
is
this?” Basia interrupted, her eyes riveted on the gun in Bouker’s hand.

“Basia, meet Rashid Bouker, military attaché of the Yemeni Embassy in Washington,” I said.

“Yemen!” Basia exclaimed. “Wait. Isn’t that Al-Naddi guy from Yemen?”

“Samir Al-Naddi is scum. His name should not be mentioned in the same sentence as my country,” Bouker growled.

“Look, we know about Al-Naddi’s DNA switch,” I told Bouker matter-of-factly. “I also know you’re under direct orders from your president to extinguish Al-Naddi in all his forms, including his clones. You’re the one killing the surrogate mothers.”

Bouker looked at me in astonishment. “You know about the switch?” he said, searching my expression as if he could figure out where I’d discovered that. “How?”

“Hard work, sweat, blood and tears,” I said, shrugging. “It’s the American way.”

“You mean
your
government is the one killing the surrogate mothers?” Basia asked, stabbing her finger at Bouker’s chest, seemingly forgetting that he still held a revolver pointed at us. “Why?”

Bouker’s eyes narrowed. “Al-Naddi, the scourge of Yemen, is trying to replicate himself. He, in all his forms, must be utterly extinguished.”

“Those women were innocent, for God’s sake!” Basia said angrily. “Not a single one of them knew they were carrying Al-Naddi’s clone.”

“It’s unfortunate, but all loose ends that lead to Al-Naddi must be permanently eliminated.”

“That’s just nuts,” I yelled. “And
you’re
nuts, too. Haven’t you read any of the scientific literature on cloning? Children are molded not only by DNA, but also by environment, education and upbringing. Be realistic here. No one lives twice. Not even some psycho terrorist.”