Chasing The Dawn (Luke Temple - Book 2) (Luke Temple Series) (35 page)

Chung Su looked him up and down. He was paler than normal and there was a bluish bruise taking shape on his forehead. He locked the door and sat on the corner of the bed. Chung Su’s melancholy evaporated.

“So what was it like? Did you find anything?”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “It was just an ordinary flat, nothing exceptional.”
If you ignore the dead Iranians.

Chung Su felt deflated. “How can that be? Did you not find
anything
?”

“The place looked untouched.” Luke loosened his shoes. “Chung Su, Vittorio’s position, heading up OPERA, it’s an important position, isn’t it? In scientific terms.”

“Well ... I would say yes, it is a very important position.”

“I think the same …” Luke stood and stretched out his back.

“Why do you ask?”

“Professor Vittorio … I am trying to work out why a man who is held in such high regard across the scientific world, who is heading up an absolute cutting-edge research programme for the most powerful and financially liquid organisation on the planet was living in a tiny flat tucked away in a bad neighborhood in a small Abruzzi town, even after it was devastated by an earthquake.” Luke gingerly removed his jumper and t-shirt, his body was bruised from the evening’s events. “There is one thing I found that I need you to take a look at.” Removing the phone from his pocket, Luke brought up the pictures he had taken of the blueprint. “Take a look at these. I found this at Vittorio’s.”

Chung Su’s eyes scanned his torso. It was taut but not overdeveloped. She followed the lines of old and new scars, interspersed with bruises to form a patchwork of brutality.

Luke did not feel awkward stripping off his jeans but he winced as the material brushed over the leg wound. The makeshift dressing was covered in dried blood. Chung Su knew she was staring but did not stop herself.

Luke felt her eyes on him. Her normally porcelain face was flushed, but it still held an undeniable beauty. She was nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You had better check over that, it may be helpful,” Luke said gently.

Chung Su nodded as Luke limped towards the bathroom. He groaned as the warmth of the bathwater prickled against his skin, attacking the tight muscles and stinging the scratches. Before relaxation had a chance to overwhelm him and drag him into a warm comfortable rest the bathroom door clicked open, and in walked Chung Su. At first Luke wasn’t sure if he had in fact fallen into a dream, but as she closed the door behind her he knew it was real. She stood in front of him completely naked, her hair tied up in a bun. Her body was perfectly toned; her waist was small and her stomach flat. Her breasts were pert and surprisingly full for her size; her skin was the same porcelain as her face.

She stood, not knowing what to do next; her hands trembled slightly by her side. Luke did not make a sound, his eyes roamed her frame. She took a step through the steam and knelt down next to the bath. She put her face inches from Luke’s.

“Who are you Luke? I need to know who you are …” She placed her hand into the water, scooped up the warm liquid and gently tipped it over the top of his chest. He let the warm sensation run down his entire body. He closed his eyes and felt her hand caress his face.

“You seem to me like a ghost.” She repeated the tipping of water. Luke nodded his head with his eyes now firmly closed. That was right, he was a ghost. But it had not always been the case. Before his brain could analyse why, the words were already coming out. In the deep exhaustion he felt the mask slip away into the steam. Chung Su’s gentle movements and soft tone took him away.

“Alex Rowland was killed … he withered and died.”

Chung Su stayed quiet, she felt the tidal wave coming.

“That was me once … Alex … until he died. If only she could have taken me with her … I was ready to go with her … I am still ready to go with her…”

The room fell silent.

“Who is she?” Chung Su asked.

“Sarah …” Luke’s leg twitched. “Alex Rowland’s wife … 8.50 a.m. on 7
^th
July 2005, the London Underground circle line 204 between Aldgate and Liverpool Street.” The details were seared into his memory, into Alex Rowland’s memory.

Chung Su could not put the words together at first, then her mouth dropped open.
7
^th
July 2005 … 7/7 … the bombs.
She felt a deep sense of shame. The London bombings had been beamed around the world, most seeing them as a tragedy, but in her country they had been held up as a victory, another step toward Western downfall … they had been celebrated. She turned away from him.

“What happened?” she asked.

“She died … that’s what happened. She was on the same carriage as the bomber, there was no way she could have survived. And I didn’t know it then, but Alex Rowland died at the same moment.”

Alex had been an analyst, one of the best, based at GCHQ, tasked with trawling through reams of data and being able to interpret, analyse and suggest a course of action. He had been so good that they had taken him out to Afghanistan and Iraq after 9/11 to work in the field with the ground troops. He was to build success models based on data received and predict scenarios for the troops. Based on this, generals and commanders could devise plans of action.

But Alex Rowland died on the 7
^th
July 2005 and Luke Temple had emerged. He could still remember waking up in the private ward of the hospital after his suicide attempt. The first person he saw was a suited gentlemen who went by the name of David Mulberry, a high-ranking official within the British intelligence service. The man had appeared to give him a lifeline … a way to live from day to day, a way for that life to make sense … Group 9. That man would turn out to be a treacherous snake, but Group 9, a covert intelligence agency within covert intelligence, had given him a life … given Luke Temple a life. The rhythmic beating began gently in his head, rattling along the tracks.

“You are in pain …” Chung Su rolled the warm water down over his head.

“They are just bruises and cuts, I will live.”

“No … I do not mean your body.” She gently kissed his forehead.

Chung Su lifted her leg and stepped into the water in between Luke’s spread legs. Luke didn’t move. She slowly lowered herself onto her knees, twitching slightly with the rush of heat.

Luke raised his head, when confronted with human passions he no longer knew instinctively what to do. Chung Su took Luke’s hand and kissed his fingers. She pulled his palm to her breast, looking deep into Luke’s eyes. Luke tightened his hand around and felt the natural firmness, his expression never changing. Chung Su then turned her attention to his wounded leg, gently caressing the dressing. Luke felt the warmth run up his entire body, a different kind of warmth to the water, this sensation was internal and he felt his penis harden.

Chung Su pressed her body against his, brushing her lips against his neck. Her hand moved downwards and took hold. He closed his eyes and felt her lips kiss down his chest, breaking the surface of the water. With a gentle touch she sat up and took him inside her. Luke kept his eyes shut. Chung Su rocked back and forth, making only a slight noise; she leant down and placed her mouth against Luke’s ear.

“It’s ok …”

But Luke was lost in the void of pleasure and pain. Alex Rowland had replaced him and he kept his eyes shut, a thousand images playing through his mind. Chung Su rocked back and forth rhythmically and Alex heard the same voice in his head.
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.
Chung Su increased in speed, the water splashing, and after a short time Alex felt her tighten and shiver in a climax that prompted his own. He opened his eyes as she lifted herself out of the water and disappeared into the steam. She had craved the intimacy as much as Luke had needed it, but it changed nothing He rested his head back and drifted into an uncomfortable rest, neither asleep nor awake.

The foyer door crashed open and Delvechi made his way over to the reception desk.

“Good evening, I am Carabinieri Delvechi. I spoke with …”

The stout receptionist shushed Delvechi and spoke in a whisper. “I think we should be discreet. The lady was down here earlier and I saw the man return about thirty minutes ago.”

“I need to know what room they are in,” Delvechi demanded.

“Of course, of course, come this way.” He led Vittorio over to the desk.

Delvechi leant in to the receptionist, catching a glimpse of the man’s yellow front teeth. “How many exits do they have?”

“That door,” he pointed toward the main entrance. “We lock all other exits and entrances in winter …” The receptionist suddenly realised it was illegal to lock the exits and blushed.

Delvechi hadn’t even registered it. “Good, I don’t want them disturbed …”

“What? But sir, they are dangerous. We cannot have them here, we …”

Delvechi raised a giant paw and the receptionist fell silent. “I do not want them disturbed. I will be outside, parked up watching the exit, so they cannot go anywhere. You are in no danger here. However, if you want me to burst in and start World War III then I can do that …”

“No, that’s fine, perhaps waiting until they leave is for the best.”

“I think so too …” Delvechi responded with a hint of sarcasm. “If they come out you are not to treat them any differently at all, ok?”

The receptionist nodded; sweat was gathering on his brow.

“Ok, I will be outside.”

With that, Delvechi turned on his heels and marched outside. He moved across the road and took up a seat in his Alfa. He needed to talk to the pair, but approaching them would be tricky. They would be on edge and it was certain after the devastation they had left across Teramo the pair wouldn’t come quietly.
I am not here to hurt them, if only they knew.
He pressed a number on his phone.
This is Chief Officer Beltrano, I cannot take your call at this moment, but please leave me a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can, or if your call is an emergency dial …

Delvechi sighed, no longer surprised, and hunkered down in his cold car, preparing himself for the wait.

Chung Su was sat on the bed with the phone in her hands.

“Did I get anything?” Luke asked.

Chung Su didn’t answer; she sat glued to the screen, her head shaking from side to side as she muttered something in Korean.

“What is it?” Luke asked again. Chung Su finally looked in his direction, staring straight through him. After a moment of deep thought she shot across the room and into the bathroom. Luke followed.

The bathroom still contained residual steam, creating a damp, close air. Chung Su was stood in front of the sink, phone in one hand, with the index finger of her other hand pressed against the fogged-up mirror. Her head began flicking rapidly between the image on the phone and the glass. Her finger started to draw. Luke stood silently behind her, observing but not wanting to disturb her trance-like state. It was like watching a Victorian medium being compelled by spirits. With every jerk of her finger a new line was drawn, each one precise and measured. The muttering continued, the endless head loop of phone to mirror, phone to mirror.

After a short time, Luke started to recognise the shape being drawn, it was a replica of the blueprint he had found at Vittorio’s. As he looked closer he noticed that in fact the image taking shape on the mirror was not an exact replica. The simple outline was the same, but Chung Su had added some extra details, extensions running off in various directions and random numbers anchored to lines.

She turned to Luke and her eyes now sparkled. “Where did you find this blueprint?” She held up the phone.

“It was hidden away under a desk at Vittorio’s. Out of sight.”

“Was there anything else with it?”

“No, just this, why?”

Chung Su turned back to the mirror. “This is not the only design … there
must
be others.”

Luke took a step closer. “Why, what is it?”

“It
can’t
be …” Her voice had lowered to a whisper.

“Chung Su, you need to be clear about this. What am I looking at?”

Chung Su looked into his eyes. “It looks like … no it
is
the blueprint for a nuclear detonation site.”

A nuclear detonation site?
He repeated the words to Chung Su.

“Yes, but not an ordinary construction. The numbers and verticals are different, they don’t work.” She passed a hand over the mirror. “I cannot get the numbers to add up. This circle here … see it?”

Luke nodded.

“That is where the nuclear detonation will take place, but some of these …” she went quiet. “It is covered by something …”

“Covered by something?”

“Yes … a liquid … maybe water. That may explain the number oddities.” She was talking to herself. “And look …” She snapped round. “The numbers don’t make sense. You see these two lines?” She pointed at the two lines on the mirror running horizontally from the left of the circle. “I have drawn them as lines, but they aren’t … they are phantom lines.”

Luke raised his eyebrows. Alex Rowland’s GCSE physics was pathetically useless.

Chung Su continued, “This line is not what you would call a physical wall, but it is a phantom wall … actually, it is more like two focal points … created by two magnetic lenses …”

“Focusing what?” Luke asked.

Chung Su took a moment, as if still working it out for herself. “I have seen this kind of set-up before … I have
created
a set-up like this before … sort of. I think it’s designed to focus proton beams … specifically particles called pions and kaons.”

Luke kept focused on what was being said, but he was struggling.

“But it doesn’t make sense … there is no barrier. And there is another magnetic line here.” She pointed at a single line running from the heart of the drawing.

“Listen, I need to be able to understand this, Chung Su. Slow down. You are going to have to talk to me as if I am stupid.”

Chung Su nodded and then headed back into the bedroom. Luke followed.

“Ok, sit down.” Chung Su guided Luke to the edge of the bed. “Do you know how CERN fires the neutrino particles through the rock to the Gran Sasso Laboratory?”