The Einstein Pursuit

58

In the early twentieth century, the forests outside Rakovnik were an ideal location for a military installation. The territory was far enough removed from the social, economic and bureaucratic center of Prague that its inhabitants could operate without fear of interference. Those in command in this remote area governed autonomously, without the oversight of central command. As such, the atrocities committed there throughout the years went largely unnoticed.

It wasn’t until after World War II and the end of the Cold War that many of the stories surrounding the facility began to surface. By then, the complex was an abandoned mess of crumbling brick and overgrown courtyards. To most, it was little more than a reminder of a bygone era. A period in history that was better left forgotten.

The locals saw it as an eyesore.

Zidane saw it as an opportunity.

He realized that the thick, sturdy walls could be resurrected to their former glory with only a fraction of the investment required to build them from scratch. He saw a self-sufficient compound with its own electrical and water treatment plants. Perhaps most importantly, he saw acres of undeveloped land on all sides of the grounds, a buffer zone that ensured privacy.

The former military settlement deep in the woods was far from prying eyes, yet it was close enough to Rakovnik — and the services enjoyed by its more than fifteen thousand residents — to entice those scientists who insisted they couldn’t leave the comforts of civilization.

It was the perfect place for a laboratory.

A lab to study whatever he wanted.

In the waning light, Jones stared at the facility through a pair of high-powered binoculars. He noted that only a single story was visible above the ground. The rest of the structure had been dug into the earth. Rumor had it there were tunnels that went for miles.

Although Payne had been the leader of the MANIACs, it was Jones who had a special gift for tactics. As such, the assault had been his to plan. He had chosen dusk not because of the fading light. That logic was sound if they were fighting out in the open, but today’s battle would take place inside. Instead, the decision to proceed at this hour was based upon Masseri’s note that most of the guards would be eating dinner. Jones wanted to take full advantage of any edge he could find, and having his opponents gathered in one place was a good start.

To aid their cause, Berglund had provided a description of the security measures used at the facility. There were no cameras or booby traps — nothing that would provide a record of the men and women who worked there or expose the true nature of the building. As such, the main deterrent the team had to overcome was a series of locks.

The front entrance and interior doorways were secured by magnetic locks that could be temporarily disabled with the swipe of a keycard. Fortunately, Berglund had stolen one of the cards from an unsuspecting guard and had smuggled it to Masseri, who in turn had made multiple copies and placed them in the folder he had given to Payne.

Of course, Payne had no way of knowing if they would actually work until his ass was on the line and he was standing outside the compound’s front door.

He took a deep breath and swiped the card.

The door opened with a soft click.

‘Main breach,’ Payne whispered as he entered the building. The mic in his ear relayed the news to all the members of his team.

‘Copy,’ came the reply, ‘on your go.’

As much as they hated the thought of involving Dial or the Czech police in the assault, Payne and Jones had no qualms about bringing in outside help. To strengthen their numbers, they had turned to the vast network of former commandos now living abroad.

Men they had met in battle.

Men they could trust.

Two phone calls later, they had successfully recruited three men to help. Each was ex-special forces, and each lived within an hour of Prague. In fact, two of them were roommates. Though none of them were ex-MANIACs, they had been stationed with Payne and Jones in the Middle East and had heard stories about their exploits. The chance to help them out and to shoot some bad guys was an opportunity they couldn’t pass up.

The soldier who lived alone — a demolition expert in the Navy SEALs — was known to his peers as Rapture. His call sign was given to him because of his ability to create end-of-days-type carnage. His main responsibility was to level the electrical substation on Payne’s order.

Rapture could do that in his sleep.

When the time was right, they hoped to use the loss of power to their advantage. The problem with the strategy was the possibility that the power outage would render the magnetic locks inoperable. If the interruption unlocked the doors, everything would be fine. But if the doors were stuck in the locked position, they would need another way to open them.

Enter Hulk and Rhino, two hard-partying ex-Marines who could bulldoze their way through anything in their path. Though they were known as human battering rams, they were also good with knives and guns. Their main job was to evacuate the innocent scientists. If they happened to kill some guards along the way, so be it.

That being said, if anyone was going to get hurt, Payne and Jones wanted to make sure they were first in line to take a bullet. That was why they planned to handle the riskiest part of the mission personally. Their job was to find and eliminate Hendrik Cole.

Payne led the men down the first corridor of the building, peeking into every room but finding nothing but empty offices. They had no way of knowing if these were an elaborate ruse to fool visitors, but it was clear that whoever worked there had gone home for the night.

After ensuring the area was clear, Payne and the others used the stairwell to descend to the next floor. They were halfway there when the smell told them what they were about to find. Their senses were confirmed when they saw the test subject storage level. Every wall was lined with built-in cages of all shapes and sizes. A third of the spaces were empty, but the cages that were full contained the same assortment of animals that had been found in Stockholm.

Only here, they were very much alive.

Pigs squealed and dogs barked at them as they made their way across the floor. Jones vowed right then and there to make sure these creatures were cared for. He knew they had a job to do before he could worry about saving them, but he also knew he would be haunted by their faces if he left them behind. Nothing deserved to suffer for being what it was born to be.

Nothing.

At the end of the row, a trio of chimpanzees stared out at them from behind the bars of their cages. There were no cries, no howls; only the forlorn faces of three animals already resigned to death. Jones could see the intelligence in their eyes, and he felt his normally iron stomach begin to turn. So much so that he had to do something right then and there.

‘Hold up,’ he whispered to Payne.

Payne glanced back. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Them. I have to free them.’

‘What? Why?’

‘They’re from Africa. I’m from Africa …’

‘No you’re not. You’re from Pittsburgh.’

‘Come on, man. Just these three.’

‘I swear to God, I don’t get you sometimes.’

‘That’s ’cause you’re not from Africa.’

Payne rolled his eyes. ‘Be quick.’

Jones smiled and opened the cages. Then he directed the chimps’ attention toward the main entrance. ‘Go that way, guys. Toward the trees. Run like the wind.’

Hulk and Rhino glanced at each other, confused.

Then they turned and pointed at the door as well.

The chimps squealed their thanks as they bolted for the exit.

‘Okay,’ Jones said, laughing. ‘Now we can go downstairs.’

In contrast to the other floors, the third floor down was bustling with activity. Through the small window in the stairwell door, Payne and Jones could see an assortment of laboratory and computer equipment, with each station attended by at least one scientist.

Along the far wall they could see a small area that was being used as a guard post. Its cinderblock walls were only three feet high, with wide panes of glass rising to the ceiling. The cordoned area extended awkwardly into the main room, a hastily constructed afterthought to be used as an observation point.

Inside the cement and glass box that jutted into the primary space was Hendrik Cole and seven of his men. They were laughing over plates of spaghetti and meatballs, blissfully unaware of the threat bearing down on them.

Payne glanced at Jones, who in turn nodded toward Hulk and Rhino. Payne swiped the keycard through its receiver, disengaging the door’s lock. Then he contacted the fifth member of the assault team, who was waiting outside. ‘Rapture. You there?’

‘Here, sir,’ he replied.

‘Game on.’