It was as if Petrovina weren't even there. Amazing. This was what America had for spies? She had heard stories, of course, but the Russian agent could not believe how lax America was. As the men bickered over supper, she hurried from the room and out into the hallway.
She had her cell phone out of her purse and was pressing the speed-dial button for the special number on her way down the hall.
"Agent Dvah for Director Chutesov," she stated when the Institute operator answered. "Tell her is urgent."
As she waited, she pressed the down button on the elevator. Anna Chutesov was on the line before the elevator doors opened.
"I have most interesting news, Director," Petrovina whispered. "Is about this strange amnesia you said you experienced and possible American involvement."
So excited was she that when the elevator doors slid open she wasn't paying full attention. Petrovina didn't see the strong hands that reached out and grabbed her. Didn't see the faces of the men who dragged her onto the elevator or know the contents of the rag that was slapped over her mouth. There was a brief struggle during which Petrovina dropped her cell phone to the hallway floor. The fight soon drained from her. She slumped unconscious into the arms of her attackers. The elevator doors slid softly shut.
"Hello, Agent Dvah? Hello? Hello?" Anna Chutesov's troubled voice called over the phone to the empty hall.
Chapter 17
The Jeep bounced down the rough path through the dark South American mountainside. Behind the wheel, its sole occupant perspired in the warm Mayanan evening.
The jungle from which the Jeep had emerged was dense. A wild slice of prehistory lost in time in the modern age.
On the radio a classical music station soothed the driver's ears. This was truly a barbaric place. He would have chosen to be almost anywhere on Earth rather than Mayana. But necessity had dropped him here.
The road led down from a ravine that cut through the mountains above the Vaporizer site. There was a valley on the other side that had been closed off to the public for years. The valley was a site of infamy. It was there that the famous Jamestown tragedy had taken place, where hundreds of cult members had met their end.
Many mothers had lost misguided children that day so long ago. Some said their ghosts still haunted the hills. It was superstitious nonsense that had come in handy.
There wasn't an ounce of concern about running into any wayward ghosts on the face of the Jeep's driver as he threaded his way down the treacherous mountain road.
Eventually the rutted path turned to paved road. The government workers who had rolled the asphalt hadn't been allowed to go too far up, lest they stumble on something they shouldn't see. It was best to keep the remote location as hostile to visitors as possible. The rutted old road above made the special work that much more difficult.
The telephone poles that lined the route had been hauled up by peasant workers, men without families who would not be missed if they disappeared.
He picked up speed on the paved road. Soon the lights of blessed civilization appeared. They were just a few halogen floodlights on poles, but to the man in the Jeep they were like the Star of Bethlehem.
He sped toward the lights, slowing to a stop at a set of gates across the road. From the gates, a fence disappeared into the jungle in either direction, making the rest of the mountaintop inaccessible.
Armed guards manned the special rear booth at all time.
The guard booth and road were in a remote spot, away from prying eyes. Since no one who came to the Vaporizer site down below ever saw them, none had ever questioned what exactly they were guarding.
The guards themselves sometimes wondered. But they never mentioned it to anyone. They were paid well for their silence, and so they never said a word about the mysterious gate and the back road that led to nowhere. Nor did they mention the fact that the only two men who never used the road were Dr. Sears, director of the Vaporizer project, and the strange, rude little janitor who rarely seemed to push a broom or mop and never spoke a word to anyone but Dr. Sears.
The gates were opened for the silent janitor. His Jeep was allowed to pass out of the secret compound. He stopped on the other side to make certain the gates were closed once more. Only once they were secure did he proceed down the road.
The hill grew steep for the next mile before leveling off. The jungle trees broke apart, revealing the acres that had been cleared for the Vaporizer. Lights from the sprawling complex cast a warm yellow glow to the dark night.
The janitor drove his Jeep around behind the main offices. There was a small one-story building near the rear fence. It was said to be for the custodial staff, although only one custodian was ever allowed to enter it.
When he drew to a stop in his personal parking space, the janitor's headlights sliced across a lone figure sitting on the steps.
The waiting man winced at the light.
The American scientist, Mike Sears, the public face of the Vaporizer project, wore a worried expression. He got quickly to his feet, hurrying over to the Jeep.
"I wasn't sure what to do," Sears said. "It was in the last shipment. They dumped it without knowing it was even there. I only saw it because I was in the booth up above."
Sears had placed a call to the janitor two hours before. Two hours of waiting anxiously for the man to return from above.
"Where is it?" the janitor asked in an accent that was neither Mayanan nor American.
Sears was clearly panicked. He was as white as a sheet.
"Here, I'll show you," he said.
He led the way to the Vaporizer. Both men put on a pair of special boots before going onto the deck. Sears had put the lights on bright, illuminating the pit. There was a pile of garbage far down inside. Sitting on top was a big piece of broken luggage. Half-spilled from the trunk, a twisted body lay wrapped in a white sheet.
The man who was posing as a janitor pursed his full lips. "Come with me," he commanded.
They hurried out the gate. Mike Sears helped roll the special scaffolding back in. The two men kicked out the locks, and the scaffolding unfolded into the pit.
Sears waited nervously on the edge of the Vaporizer while the other man climbed inside.
Inside the Vaporizer, the bogus janitor scurried over heaps of rotting garbage to the body. Taking the dead man's chin in his hand, he tipped the head, examining carefully. As he was doing so, something else caught his eye. He climbed over the edge of the trash pile, vanishing completely from sight. He reappeared a moment later. Climbing back across the awkward pile, he scampered back up the scaffolding. "Is it who I think it is?" Sears asked.
The other man was wiping his hands on a handkerchief. He was clearly more irritated than repulsed. "Is one of President's bodyguards," he replied.
Sears felt his stomach grow weak. "I thought so," he said. "He looked like one of the men who came with him to the unveiling."
"It is not only body," the other man said, stuffing his hanky in his pocket. "There is second one on far side. Also presidential bodyguard."
"My God," Sears said. "I didn't know what to do. I sent everyone home before anyone could see. I just- With up there and all-" He nodded numbly toward the mountains. "I thought it would be... Who do we tell?"
The other man spoke with clear authority. "No one," he insisted. "I will make call to inform those who need to know. In meantime, clean this mess."
"How-?" Sears began. "Oh. Oh."
He stared down into the Vaporizer pit. At the body lying pale and broken with the rest of the trash. "But shouldn't we...?" Sears began to ask.
But when he turned, the man who Mike Sears alone knew was not actually a janitor was already gone.
Chapter 18
Remo had showered and changed, tossing his soiled clothes out the window. After an hour of arguing about what they should do for dinner, the two Masters of Sinanju decided to eat in the hotel dining room. Around the corner from their hotel suite, they found a cell phone on the hallway floor behind a potted plant. Remo scooped it up.
"Hello?" he asked.
Nothing but dead air. Shrugging, he snapped the phone shut and slipped it in the pocket of his chinos. "Problem solved," he told his teacher. "Smitty says I should be able to get through to him on one of these gizmos."