Chapter Forty-Nine
Ten Days Later
Worldwide Biothreats Conference
Poreč, Croatia
Claire gripped the rail of the hotel balcony. Despite the warm sunshine and calm expanse of turquoise water stretching before her, she couldn’t get warm. And yet sweat soaked through her blouse at her spine.
Jean-Luc slipped up behind her, rested his hands on her hips, and kissed the back of her neck as he drew her against his chest. “Penny for your thoughts, ma belle?”
Even with his solid strength behind her, she couldn’t manage to calm her jangling nerves. “What if I’m wrong?”
“You’re not.”
She turned into his embrace and met his gaze. “This place, the hotel, the conference. It’s all so much like Martinique.”
“And that’s why you’re not wrong. Martinique went sideways for him, and Croatia used to be part of Yugoslavia, where his obsession with viruses began. You’re spot on with this—there’s no other place he could attack. He’ll see this as closure.”
She shook her head and thought of the virus still burning its way through the population of Port Harcourt. “So many people have died.”
Jean-Luc cupped her cheeks in his palms and kissed her lightly. “None of this is your fault, you hear me? None of it. Everything that’s happened is on Ostermann, and we’re going to take him down today.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead against his chest. “I want him dead. I’ve never before wished death on anyone, but nothing would make me happier than to know that man no longer draws breath. I’m a horrible person.”
“Nah, you’re just human.” Using the curve of one finger, he lifted her chin until she met his gaze again. “My team can handle this. You don’t have to be here. Actually, I’d love nothing more than for you to get on the jet and put thousands of miles between you and this virus.”
She cupped his jaw in her hand. He hadn’t shaved in at least a week, and his beard stubble rasped against her palm. “Viruses are my job, Jean-Luc. Same as catching bad guys is yours. I wouldn’t ask you to stop doing what you love, so don’t ask me to walk away from this.”
“I get it. I do. I’d never ask you to stop your work with viruses, but psychopaths are not your job.”
“My research put him on this path.”
“No, cher. That lab of his in Austria was twenty years in the making. He was already running full steam ahead for years before he’d ever heard of you. He just saw an opportunity to control the outcome with Akeso.”
He didn’t get it. Maybe he never would, but she wouldn’t hold it against him. He was just trying to protect her.
She stood on her toes to kiss him. “I still have to see this through to the end.”
…
There he was, the smug bastard.
As the conference broke for lunch, Ostermann sat down at a table in the middle of the hotel’s busy restaurant and smiled to himself. He took out a small case and flipped open the top. Inside lay a syringe and a vial. He plugged the needle into the little bottle, drew out the contents into the syringe.
Jean-Luc felt Claire’s hand tighten convulsively in his. “He’s giving himself Akeso.”
Of course he was. He’d want to sit here in the middle of everything and observe his victims as they unknowingly breathed in DHF, and he couldn’t wear a respirator without drawing too much attention to himself.
“Do you think he’s kidnapped more people?” Claire asked.
“No. Harvard’s been watching for it.”
She shivered. “So he’s given up on trying to save the world. Now he’s just going to end it.”
“Not on HORNET’s watch.” Jean-Luc gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and checked the crowd. Everyone was in position to close ranks around Ostermann, and it wasn’t just HORNET. All of Tuc’s team had wanted in on this takedown, including Devlin, who was still healing from nearly getting crushed by the castle. Seemed like a bad idea having him hobble around a crowded hotel on crutches when the possibility of needing to make a fast escape was very high, but that wasn’t Jean-Luc’s call. If Tuc trusted that Devlin could still play his part then—
The fire alarm shrilled.
Seated only two tables over from Ostermann, Devlin and Harvard both calmly closed their laptops and joined the exiting crowd. They’d hacked the fire alarm.
Okay, yeah. Good distraction. It had worked at the hotel in Martinique to get folks out. Why not here, too?
Ostermann glanced around with an expression of dismay and started to stand.
“That’s my cue,” Jean-Luc said and gave Claire a quick kiss.
But she wouldn’t let go of his hand.
“Claire?”
“I’m sorry.” She released her grip. “Just…don’t get infected with anything.”
He winked at her. “No worries. I’m Deadpool.”
“You’re not funny,” she called after him.
Jean-Luc laughed and was still smiling when he slid into the seat across from Ostermann. “Surprise!” he said in German. “Remember me?”
Ostermann swore and fumbled a cell phone out of his pocket.
“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Jean-Luc held up a finger, then pointed down. Ostermann’s gaze followed to the red dot on his chest. “That’s my friend Seth. He doesn’t miss, and Akeso is not going to protect you from a bullet, so why don’t you set that phone down on the table and let’s chat like civilized people.”
Ostermann hesitated, then grudgingly placed the phone in the center of the table. Far enough away that it looked like he was complying, but not out of reach. “You speak German flawlessly.”
“I speak a lot of languages flawlessly, Herr Ostermann.”
A soft hand settled on his shoulder, but he didn’t take his eyes off Ostermann. He didn’t need to look, knew it was Claire by her touch and her vanilla-and-spice scent. Instead, he enjoyed the hell out of Ostermann’s slack-jawed surprise.
“You thought she was dead, didn’t you? Thought she had killed herself in the lab explosion.”
Ostermann half rose out of his chair. “How— How—the reports…”
“Were exaggerated,” Claire said. “I’m alive and well, and thanks to you, I’ve developed a treatment for Delta Hemorrhagic Fever. My colleagues are testing it in Port Harcourt with promising results. We’re also working on a vaccine.”
Jean-Luc tsked. “Shouldn’t have gotten greedy and re-infected me. I still had Akeso in my body and all it did was kill the virus and produce the antibodies Claire needed. Basically, you shot yourself in the foot. We got you, Ostermann. We’ve rounded up your men, and your dispersal devices—the ones you placed around this room? They’re already in bio-containment on their way to— Oh, and this is the best part. You want to tell him, cher?”
She leaned over the table. “Tucker Quentin bought Bioteric Pharmaceuticals. We’re using your own labs to research bioterrorism countermeasures and make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”
Jean-Luc spotted a man he recognized approaching their table. Ra’id. He wasn’t really surprised. He’d called and told the guy this was going down today. Figured Ra’id deserved to be in on this takedown as much as anyone.
He grinned over Ostermann’s shoulder at the man. “Ah, this is turning into a regular reunion. Ra’id. As-salaam ‘alaykum.”
“Wa ‘alaykum salaam,” Ra’id responded with a tilt of his head. He looked healthy now, strong and proud, polished in a white linen suit and sky-blue tie. Nothing like the skinny, dirty, yellow-eyed man Jean-Luc had met three weeks ago.
“You remember our mutual friend Ra’id el-Masri, right, Ostermann? Turns out, I’m not the only one who survived your castle of horrors and I’m not the only one who wants to see you punished for your crimes.”
Ostermann about jumped out of his seat in his haste to get away from Ra’id.
“Yeah. So you know the el-Masri crime family then. Their reputation. You picked the wrong people to piss off.” He sat back, slung a casual arm over the back of his chair. “Personally, I think we should give you to them. The U.S. has all these pesky laws about how to treat criminals. Nothing we can do to you will be bad enough.”
“We could send him back to Nigeria,” Claire suggested.
Jean-Luc tilted his head as if considering it. “It’s an option, but Ra’id’s country…”
“I will show you exactly how much pain a human can endure,” Ra’id said in Arabic, which Jean-Luc cheerfully translated to German just to make sure none of the meaning was lost.
“I’m trying to bring about peace,” Ostermann said tightly.
“Oh, yeah,” Jean-Luc said, heavy on the sarcasm. “I saw you dose yourself with Akeso. Seems like it’d be plenty peaceful when you’re the last living thing on earth, wouldn’t it? Except you’re not factoring in something important. You’re insane. You’ll never find peace.”
Ostermann’s scarred face flushed bright red, all of his logic and composure melting away to show the crazy underneath.
There was the real Steffan Ostermann.
He lunged for his cell phone. Jean-Luc grabbed Claire and pushed her toward the floor, but Seth never got the chance to take the shot. In one smooth move, Ra’id pulled a pistol from under his jacket and shot Ostermann point blank in the temple. His body dropped to the floor with a solid thunk.
He didn’t move again. After all, Akeso didn’t make you bulletproof.
“Oh my God,” Claire gasped.
Jean-Luc checked to make sure she wasn’t injured, then wrapped an arm around her and lifted her to her feet. He kept her face pressed to his side. She was a doctor, yes, used to all manner of blood and gore. But not this. She didn’t need to see this, because even though Ostermann was as bad as they got, she’d still carry his death on her conscience. That was just the kind of gentle, beautiful soul she was.
Ra’id calmly pulled a blue handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the fine mist of blood off his face. “Please know it has been a pleasure working with you, Jean-Luc.” He left the handkerchief on the table and holstered his weapon. The lines of the suit were so perfectly tailored to hide it, even a trained eye would have trouble picking it out. He held out a hand. “It saddens me to say this, but I suspect next time we meet, it’ll not be as allies.”
“I know.” Jean-Luc accepted the offered handshake and a kiss on each cheek. “But I will always consider you a friend.”
“As will I.” Ra’id bowed slightly, then walked away.
He also turned away from the body on the floor. It was over, and Ostermann wasn’t worth any more of their time or consideration. He guided Claire outside the hotel into the bright Mediterranean sunshine.
She linked her fingers through his and shielded her eyes as she gazed up at him. “What did Ra’id say? It made you sad.”
He stared out over the sea stretching before them. Remembered doing the same in Martinique after Danny had died. He’d collapsed in the blood-soaked sand, exhausted and weak from his own injuries. He’d stared out over water just as turquoise as this, under a sun just as bright, and had wondered where in the world Claire had gone when he told her to run.
She squeezed his hand. “Jean-Luc? What did he say to you?”
Sighing, he turned to her, wrapped her up in a hug and buried his face in her hair. “Nothing I didn’t already know, cher. It’s just the way the world is. C’est la vie. We get one bad guy, and another takes his place.”