The Einstein Equation

31 Corrective Measures

After the police left the Wrichtishousis grounds with George Masters in a body bag ad Lilith Hurst in shackles, Purdue trudged through the dismal surroundings of his lobby and adjacent drawing room and dining room. He surveyed the damage to the place, by way of bullet holes in his rosewood wall panels and furniture. He glared at the bloodstains on his expensive Persian tapestries and carpets. The incinerated bar counter and ceiling damage was going to take a while to repair.

“Tea, sir?” Charles asked, but Purdue looked like hell on legs. Silently, Purdue soldiered on to his server room. “I would like some tea, thank you, Charles.” Purdue’s eye caught the figure of Lillian standing in the kitchen door, smiling at him. “Hey, Lily.”

“Hey, Mr. Purdue,” she beamed, happy to know that he was okay.

Purdue went into the dark seclusion of the warm, humming chamber, alive with electronics, where he felt most at home. He had examined the telltale signs of the deliberate sabotage of his wiring and shook his head. “And they wonder why I stay single.”

He decided to catch up on messages via his private servers, and was astonished to find dark and baleful news from Sam, even though it was a bit late. Purdue’s eyes ran across the words of George Masters, the information of Dr. Kasper Jacobs, along with the full interview Sam conducted with him about the clandestine plan to kill the delegates. Purdue remembered that Sam was heading to Belgium, but he had not heard from him since.

Charles brought in his tea. The aroma of Earl Grey in the hot odor of the computer fans was heaven to Purdue. “I cannot apologize enough, Charles,” he told the butler who saved his life. “I am ashamed at how easily I am influenced and how I acted, all for a goddamn woman.”

“And for the sexy long division weakness,” Charles jested in his dry way. Purdue had to laugh, while his body ached. “All is well, sir. As long as all ends well.”

“It will,” Purdue smiled, shaking Charles’ gloved hand. “Do you know when this came in or has Mr. Cleave called?”

“Unfortunately not, sir,” the butler replied.

“Dr. Gould?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Charles answered. “Not a word. Jane will be back tomorrow, if that helps.”

Purdue looked at his satellite communication device, his e-mail and his personal cell phone and found them all riddled with missed calls from Sam Cleave. When Charles left the room, Purdue was shaking. The amount of chaos brought on by his obsession with the Einstein Equation was reprehensible and he had to start cleaning house, so to speak.

On his desk was Lilith’s purse contents. He had handed over her already ransacked bag to the police. Among the technology she carried, he found her transmitter. When he saw that the completed equation had been sent through to Russia, Purdue’s heart stopped.

“Holy shit!” he gasped.

At once, Purdue jumped up. He took a quick swig of tea and rushed to another server that could accommodate signaling via satellite. His hands were shaking as he hastened. As soon as the link was established, Purdue started writing a code like a madman, triangulating the visible feed to trace the position of the receiver. At the same time, he traced the remote device controlling the object the equation was sent to.

“Wanna play war games?” he asked. “Let me remind you who you are up against.”

While Clifton Tuft and his lackeys were eagerly sipping martini’s and excitedly waited for the fruition of their lucrative disaster, their limousine was heading northeast toward Tomsk. Zelda had the transponder that controlled the locks and impact data of the Valkyrie.

“How is it going?” Tuft asked.

“Currently accelerating as planned. They should approach Mach 1 in about twenty minutes,” Zelda reported smugly. “Looks like Hurst did her job after all. Did Wolf take his own convoy?”

“No idea,” McFadden said. “I tried calling him but his cell phone is switched off. To tell you the truth, I am glad I do not have to deal with him anymore. You should have seen what he did to Dr. Gould. I almost, almost, felt sorry for her.”

“He did his part. He probably went home to fuck his spotter,” Tuft growled with perverse laughter. “I saw Jacobs on the train last night, by the way, fiddling with my room door.”

“Good, then he is taken care of as well,” Bessler grinned, happy to take his place as project manager.

Meanwhile, aboard the Valkyrie, Nina was desperately trying to wake Sam. She could feel the train accelerate every now and then. Her body did not lie, feeling the g-force effects of the speeding train. Outside in the corridor, she could hear the confused mumbling of the international delegation. They, too, felt the train’s thrust and with no galley or bar available, they were beginning to get suspicious of the American magnate and his associates.

“They are not here. I checked,” she heard the United States representative tell the others.

“Maybe they stay behind?” the Chinese delegate guessed.

“Why would they forget to board their own train?” someone else speculated. Somewhere in the neighboring carriage, someone started to vomit. Nina did not want to cause panic by clarifying the situation, but it would be better than allowing them all to speculate and run amok

Peeking out the door, Nina gestured for the head of the Atomic Energy Agency to approach her. She closed it behind her so that the man would not see the unconscious body of Wolf Kretchoff.

“Sir, my name is Dr. Gould from Scotland. I can tell you what is going on, but I need you to stay calm, do you understand?” she started.

“What is this about?” he asked abruptly.

“Listen carefully. I am not your enemy, but I know what is happening and I need you to address the delegation to explain, while I try to solve the problem,” she said. Slowly, and calmly, she relayed the information to the man. She could see him growing increasingly terrified, but she kept her tone as serene and controlled as possible. His face went ashen, but he kept his composure. Nodding at Nina, he left to speak to the others.

She rushed back into the room ad tried to rouse Sam.

“Sam! Wake up, for Christ’s sake! I need you!” she whined, slapping Sam on the cheek, trying not to get so frustrated that she would wallop him. “Sam! We are going to die. I want some company!”

“I’ll keep you company,” Wolf said snidely. He had woken from the devastating blow Dima gave him, happy to see the dead Mafia soldier at the foot of the bunk, where Nina was crouching over Sam.

“God, Sam, if there is a good time to wake up it is now,” she muttered, slapping him. Wolf’s laugh evoked sheer terror in Nina, forcing her to reminisce about his brutality on her. He crept over the bed, his face bloodied and obscene.

“You want more?” he sneered, his teeth lined with blood. “I make you scream more this time, eh?” He laughed savagely.

It was evident that Sam was not reacting to her. Nina surreptitiously reached for Dima’s ten-inch khanjali, a magnificent and deadly sharp dagger holstered under his arm. Once in her grip, she had more confidence, and Nina was not afraid to admit to herself that she appreciated the opportunity to get back at him.

“Spasibo, Dima,” she muttered as her eyes locked on the predator.

What she did not expect, was his sudden launch at her. His enormous body came down on the side of the bed to crush her, but Nina reacted rapidly. Rolling away, she evaded his attack and waited for the moment he would hit the floor. Nina extended the knife, placing it right under his throat, impaling the Russian thug with the expensive suit. The blade penetrated his throat and sank right through. She could feel the tip of the steel dislodge the vertebrae of his neck, severing his spinal cord.

Hysterical, Nina could take no more. The Valkyrie accelerated some more, pushing the bile in her up to her throat. “Sam!” she screamed until her voice broke. It did not matter, since the delegates in the dining car were similarly distressed. Sam woke up, his eyes dancing around in their sockets. “Wake the fuck up!” she screamed.

“I’m up!” he winced, groaning.

“Sam, we have to get to the engine room now!” she sniffed, weeping in shock from her fresh ordeal with Wolf. Sam sat up to hold her and he saw the leaking neck of the monster.

“I got him, Sam,” she cried.

He smiled, “I could not have done a better job.”

Sniffling, Nina got up and rearranged her clothes. “Engine room!” Sam said. “It is the only place with reception, I’m positive.” They quickly washed and wiped their hands in the basin and rushed to the front of the Valkyrie. Passing through the delegates, Nina tried to reassure them, even though she was convinced that they were all heading for Hades.

Once inside the engine room, they scrutinized the flickering lights and controls.

“None of this has anything to do with this train’s controls,” Sam shrieked in frustration. He got his phone from his pocket. “Jesus, I cannot believe it is still working,” he remarked, trying to find a signal. The train kicked up another notch, and screams filled the carriages.

“You cannot call out, Sam,” she frowned. “You know that.”

“I am not calling,” he coughed at the force of the speed. “Soon we will not be able to move. Then our bones will start to snap.”

She leered at him. “I don’t need to hear this.”

He punched a code into the phone, a code Purdue gave him to tap into a satellite tracking system that needed no service to work. “Please God, let Purdue see this.”

“Long shot,” Nina said.

He looked at her with conviction. “Our only shot.”