The Ghost Pattern

…55

Wu Shen Teng watched them closely, hoping that at least one of them would make eye contact with him, or speak to him. But what was he expecting? He had betrayed these people, and he couldn’t bring himself to look them in the eye. Maybe the part he was planning to play in their escape could redeem him in some small measure. In their eyes… As for his own conscience, he’d have to live the rest of his life remembering how he failed cowardly and dishonorably, jeopardizing the lives of his family, and the lives of everyone else. Unforgivable.

Teng watched them getting ready, their faces somber and determined, reminding him of ancient Xia dynasty warriors preparing for battle. He took a deep breath and approached the group, feeling the blood chill in his veins.

Dr. Davis handed each of them a green capsule, discreetly, making sure King Cobra didn’t catch on to what they were doing.

“I’ve made a few extras, you’ll find them here.” He placed the small container with the remaining capsules inconspicuously near the liquid dosimeter. “Don’t take more than one unless really needed, and absolutely not more than two.”

“How about Declan, Gary?” Jane Crawford asked.

“I’m thinking of putting an oxygen mask on him,” Dr. Davis replied. “He might be better off sleeping through all this.” He rubbed his chin, thinking a little before continuing his argument. “We’ve kept him sedated and loaded with painkillers. I’m concerned that if we wake him and expose him to all this, we’d only be shocking his system for no good reason.”

“Agreed,” Adenauer replied.

“I’ve given a pill to Lila, and instructed her to stay by the back wall, Dr. Davis added. “We’re ready.”

Teng extended his trembling hand, and Gary Davis placed a green capsule in his palm.

“Don’t worry, Teng, you’ll be OK,” Davis encouraged him. “Just focus on your part, we’ll handle the rest.”

He couldn’t bring himself to speak; he just nodded, keeping his eyes firmly stuck to the ground.

Jane Crawford stared a little at the green capsule in her hand, and then tucked it in the chest pocket of her shirt. A crooked smile fluttered for a second on Gary’s lips.

“What are you smiling about, Cheshire Cat?” Bukowsky asked Davis.

“Can you imagine all of us meeting at next year’s conference? The things that only we will know? Having survived all this?” Davis replied, still grinning, making an all-encompassing gesture with his hand.

“You’re really that sure we’ll survive all this and meet next year? C’est vrai?” Marie-Elise asked with a timid smile.

“Marie-Elise, for the first time since a fucked-up destiny brought us all here, yes, I am sure. I’m betting my life on it.”

She reached and took Gary’s hand with both hers, and Adenauer placed his hand on top of theirs. One by one, they joined hands together, as one, silently, yet the effervescence of their hope and determination sent crackles through the air like static electricity.

“Teng, you too,” Davis invited him.

Hesitantly, Teng put his hand on top of everyone’s joined hands, daring to lift his eyes from the ground. He didn’t see anyone’s glance judging or despising him; he saw everyone counting on him to do his part. He wasn’t going to let them down.

“I’m ready,” Teng said.

“All right, let’s play ball,” Gary Davis replied. “Take positions, stay focused.”

Teng locked eyes with Davis, who nodded encouragingly. He approached King Cobra and said, “I need to speak with Dr. Bogdanov. Now, please; it’s urgent.”

King Cobra grunted, then stood, shoving Teng up the steps that led to the massive door. He unlatched the door and stepped outside, speaking into his radio. Then he slammed the door behind them, locking it with a rusty squeak.

Bogdanov appeared within seconds, frowning impatiently as he approached, walking briskly on the long, curved hallway.

“What?” he snapped.

Teng kept his eyes lowered.

“Please,” he whispered, “you said you’re going to start shooting people. Please don’t start with my family, please!”

“Why the hell not?” Bogdanov shouted. “You haven’t given me anything. You’re worthless to me, and so is your family.”

“No, no, please,” Teng pleaded, feeling chills down his spine and fear prickling at his gut. “I can maybe… maybe tell you something now?”

Bogdanov waved his hand impatiently.

“They’re planning to jump the guard,” Teng continued in a low whisper. “They’re going to try to disarm him and break free.”

King Cobra scoffed, probably amused at the thought. Teng ignored him, and focused on Bogdanov.

“You shouldn’t send him alone in there,” he continued, pointing briefly at King Cobra. “They’re not as harmless as they seem, you know. One of them used to be a boxing champion. Another one is a black belt in martial arts. And they do have knives, scalpels.”

Bogdanov clenched his jaws and pursed his lips angrily, then spoke something into his radio. Static crackled for a second, then a husky voice replied in Russian.

King Cobra grabbed Teng’s arm, almost lifting him off the ground, and shoved him back into the lab. He couldn’t regain his footing at the top of the stairs and fell, rolling off the steps and landing on the dirty concrete floor. Then King Cobra disappeared, slamming and bolting the door behind him.

Adenauer, in position near the entrance, helped Teng get back on his feet and join the others, at the far end of the lab tables.

Teng signaled to them he’d done his part.

“And?” Gary Davis asked in a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Teng replied. “It should work. They spoke on the radio and left. I’m not sure, but it should work.”