The Einstein Pursuit

Epilogue

Jones racked the balls for a game of billiards at Café Louvre in Prague while Payne selected a cue. Sahlberg sat on a nearby barstool, nursing a well-deserved beer.

‘You know this is the only way you’ll ever beat me, right?’ To drive home his point, Payne nodded toward his bandaged arm, which was resting comfortably in a sling.

‘Give me a break,’ Jones said. ‘We both know you’re an expert at one-handed sports. You certainly get enough practice.’

Payne chuckled at the crude innuendo.

‘Is this safe?’ Sahlberg asked.

‘Is what safe? Playing pool?’ Jones asked.

‘Being out in public,’ he clarified.

It was a fair question, given the week he had just experienced. He had gone from a breathtaking sunset in California to the confinement of a Czech root cellar in less than twenty-four hours. He had remained drugged and locked away in the dank basement, subsisting on raw vegetables and dried meat, for days. Just as he had begun to lose hope of rescue, he had been freed by one of Masseri’s accomplices without an explanation of any kind.

Released near the Charles Bridge, he didn’t know where he was or how long he had been missing. Nor did he know the identity of his captors, or if anyone was looking for him.

Fortunately, a Czech policewoman spotted him and told him that Interpol had plastered his image across the city’s precincts. The next morning, he was reunited with Payne and Jones, who filled in many of the missing details about Berglund and Zidane.

‘Mattias,’ Payne said with a gentle pat on his shoulder, ‘drink in peace. I assure you, we’re safe from Masseri. He knows that if he comes after us, he’s a dead man.’

Sahlberg nodded his understanding, remembering their earlier conversation. Payne had explained that he had military connections all over the world, and that if he and Jones were killed, another member of their team would pick up the fight. Masseri would be hunted down without mercy, and he knew it. There’d be no place on earth he could hide.

Jones changed the subject. ‘Did you get a chance to talk to Dr Berglund?’

Sahlberg smiled. ‘I did. He seemed in very good spirits, all things considered.’

‘Keep an eye on him,’ Payne advised. ‘He might take a turn for the worse if he starts to believe that he was responsible for the deaths of the scientists in Stockholm. You have to do everything you can to steer him clear of that line of thought. Have you figured out if he’ll be coming to Pittsburgh with you?’

‘Actually,’ Sahlberg said, ‘we’ll be headed to La Jolla when he’s finally free to travel. I spoke with several members of the group earlier this morning, and they’re eager to hear about Tomas’s discoveries. Perhaps, as a group, we can formulate the best course of action.’

Jones walked to the table and grabbed his beer. ‘Zidane wasn’t wrong, you know. With that technology, you can name your price.’

‘But at what expense?’ Sahlberg asked rhetorically. ‘What price do we pay for upsetting the natural order of things?’

Payne smiled. It was the response he was hoping to hear. ‘Like I said, just keep an eye on him. Guilt has a funny way of sneaking up on you.’

‘So does Nick Dial,’ Jones said with a nod.

Payne turned and spotted the final member of their celebration, who was making his way through the crowded room. They raised their beers in salute.

Dial couldn’t help but smile. ‘It’s about time you showed me the respect I deserve. Next time, I want you to bow as well.’ He approached Sahlberg, his hand extended. ‘Dr Sahlberg, we haven’t been officially introduced. Nick Dial.’

‘Mattias, please,’ Sahlberg answered as he shook Dial’s hand. ‘Very nice to meet you.’

‘You too.’

‘I hate to be bold, but what can you tell me about Tomas? How much trouble is he in?’

‘Hard to say,’ admitted Dial, who had spent several hours with Berglund in order to establish a timeline of the past few months.

But some things were abundantly clear.

Zidane’s first priority had been to save himself. The Rakovnik laboratory had been designed as his own personal hospital. Everything there was geared toward keeping him alive. Berglund, on the other hand, wanted to determine how his technology could be used for the betterment of the public in general. To do that, he had to secretly break away from Zidane.

This had ultimately led to the laboratory in Stockholm, which was where several of Berglund’s most trusted colleagues prepared the technology for clinical trials. They even went behind Zidane’s back and used his own connections without his knowledge to procure human test subjects — namely criminals, all of whom had terminal illnesses. When a warden at one of the correctional facilities began asking too many questions, Zidane found out about the facility and was furious. He was spending his personal fortune to extend his life — not to help a bunch of dying felons.

That was when he gave the order to destroy the lab.

Payne rejoined the conversation. ‘Mattias, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that you want Nick in your corner. I challenge you to find anyone with a greater sense of right and wrong.’

‘While I will certainly take the compliment, I have to tell you that it’s not my case,’ Dial replied. ‘It never was … at least not officially.’

‘Who’s handling things?’ Jones asked.

‘Johann Eklund, one of our Swedish agents. And he’s the right guy for the job. That sense of right and wrong? He’s got it. Trust me, he’ll be fair.’

‘So where do you go from here?’ Payne asked.

‘Back to Lyon.’

‘How bad is it going to be for you?’ Jones asked.

‘Not bad at all. Like I said, I was never officially involved. Agent Eklund broke the case on his own. He gets all the credit. And he’s not telling anyone the secret of his success.’

Jones raised his glass. ‘To Eklund and his secrets.’

‘And ours,’ Payne said as he nodded toward the back of the room.

Sahlberg turned and glanced in that direction. He immediately laughed when he saw the framed picture on the billiard room wall.

It was a photograph of Albert Einstein, pool cue in hand.

A smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.