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not what I asked you,” said Caspari. “Has there been any progress of removing the particle from the staff?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Like I said, it’s imperative that we take the necessary precautions. We already lost two men with a simple flexing of the particle’s muscle. We must first understand the level of its full potential before we can make another attempt. Right now, the scanners are showing a high volume of energy.”

Elias Caspari leaned over the console and placed his fisted hands against the panel, knuckles down. Then he said evenly, “Listen to me and listen good. The price of progress is destruction. I need you to figure out how to render this particle safe for the utilization of a WMD, so that I can neutralize the number-one military might of the world. Once the United States has been erased from the equation, other superpowers such as China and Russia will yield rather than to suffer the same consequences. Remember our goal: One voice under one rule.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Caspari, and I know you’re eager, but this particle most likely predates the creation of the universe. If we rush into this, the cost to this facility may be too great to overcome. Right now, this particle is a mystery to us. We need to peel back the layers of the onion to expose its center, and the workings of its central core. To do so hastily on our part could unequivocally destroy not only this mountaintop facility,” he turned to Caspari so that their eyes locked, “it could also destroy Lucerne and the areas far beyond the city’s borders.”

Caspari fumed as he worked the muscles at the back of his jaw. “Let me make myself clear,” he informed his tech. “I understand the risks involved here. But to sit here all day staring at the monitors because you’re troubled as to a possible outcome isn’t a march toward progress.” He leaned closer to the tech until he was inches away from the man’s ear, and added, “My advice to you is to examine a means to control this power . . . before I assign another who may be far more qualified to sit in your seat than you are.”

The tech gave Caspari a sidelong glance. “Yes, sir.”

Standing straight, Caspari saw Salt standing in the background with features that did not betray his emotions, neither good nor bad. Then when Salt walked up and bent close to Caspari’s ear, he told the project leader about a problem that needed to be addressed.

But when Elias Caspari responded by saying ‘that there was no problem that could not be dealt with satisfactorily,’ Salt said four words that made Caspari’s face blanch.

“The Consortium,” he said. “They’re here.”

Without hesitation, they headed to Caspari’s office with Elias Caspari feeling the world suddenly closing in on him.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“How is this even possible?” Caspari said, doing little to hold back the heat of his tone.

“It appears that I may have underestimated the abilities of the Consortium,” Salt stated calmly. “I can only assume that they had the competence and capability of using high-end technology by means of geospatial-satellite coordination. How they knew about Gruber, Ueli and Kristoffel remains unknown. Unless, of course, they were using high-quality FR programming, which would explain the targeting of team members once the satellites tracked us to Lucerne. The moment we disembarked . . . resident cameras may have caught our images.”

“And you didn’t think enough to check on this before you touched down?” Caspari asked. Then he gestured to Salt to take the vacant chair opposite Caspari’s desk at the same time Caspari took his seat. And then from Caspari: “It is what it is,” he said in a much calmer fashion. “Now we take the appropriate actions since there’s a solution to everything, yes?”

Salt did not respond since he accepted the question as rhetorical.

Then as if on cue, Ueli entered the office with all eyes immediately centering on the assassin’s unsightly scar. Ueli, however, instead of being subconscious about this flaw, looked upon it as a badge of honor and a reminder of a past battle that had been fought and won.

“Sit,” Caspari told him. Ueli took the chair next to Salt.

Then Caspari addressed Max Ueli directly: “What happened?”

Ueli discussed in full about his meeting with Hans Gruber and Alix Kristoffel at a café. At this point there was nothing suspect about the possibility of being under surveillance. The sense of being studied from afar only struck them after they had concluded the meeting. ‘You know that sixth sense’ Ueli had told them, ‘That extra perception that all good soldiers are equipped with.’

Salt knew exactly what he was talking about.

As Ueli continued and details began to take shape, additional questions came to light when Gruber and Kristoffel had yet to check in, which obviously raised red flags for Caspari to contact the Deep Mountain tech team to check the CCTV files of the café.

After tapping into programming that was hardly considered high-priority networking, the tech team was able to log into the CCTV video files regarding the exchange at the café. On a large monitor behind Ueli and Salt, Caspari ordered the tech unit to transfer the data feed to his office screen.

The picture was in black-and-white and not spectacular, but the quality wasn’t poor, either. It was good enough for facial recognition to plot the points of Mr. Plato’s face for a positive ID.

The deck was empty with no witnesses, the platform about to become a combat arena between two seasoned professionals. At first the conversation between them appeared benign until Mr. Plato revealed a suppressed weapon.

More talk.

Then more of nothing.

And then Gruber moved with extraordinary speed by tipping over the table in Mr. Plato’s direction, which caused Plato’s firearm to discharge an errant round. And then the two grappled with one another until Mr. Plato schooled Hans Gruber in the sport of martial arts and pushed him back against the railing. More words were exchanged between the two with

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