Rubber Band - The HemiHelix Effect Ep 1

Chapter 18

18

There’s no way someone could doctor a biometric chip, Lukas tells himself like a mantra as he is being marched up to the passport booths. The same officers that dealt with him earlier are still on duty. They look at him with a lot less respect once they see his cuffs. Like he’s wasted their time this morning. Like he duped them. The cuffs speak volumes. He had to have done something serious to end up in cuffs. And they are to blame because they let him into the country in the first place. He’s pulled the wool over their eyes. Lukas can see it in their stony faces.

They have reached the biometric passport channel. Lukas is being led through a pass door to airside. Then Meziere removes his cuffs and hands him the British passport. “Herr Novak, if you please?”

Lukas takes the document and turns to face the scanner. He swallows hard. If this goes wrong he’ll spend the night in prison and Juergen will die. He’ll most likely be framed for some of X’s crimes, at least in the short term. It would mean extradition to Britain or much worse, to Poland. A bloody nightmare. Liz would love it.

Lukas steps forward and places the passport onto the scanning pad. The machine bleeps and flashes red.

“It does that sometimes.” The immigration officer says. “You've got to wriggle it a bit.”

Lukas takes the passport away and waits until the officer has reset the scanner. Then he tries again, twisting the passport this way and that. The machine doesn't react.

“You got to look at the camera, please.”

Lukas looks up at the camera and moves the passport over the pad. The light above the frame turns green and the doors in front of him open. Lukas steps forward into freedom and joins Meziere who looks at a monitor by the side or the machine. “Lukas Valentin Novak, born February fourteenth nineteen hundred and fifty six (check) in Oppeln, Silesia. Correct?” Lukas asks.

“Correct.” Meziere replies. “I'm sorry, Herr Novak.”

“You weren't to know. Can we go and save Herr Novotny, now, please?”

This time, Schmidt turns on the lights and puts his foot down.

“What did Herr Novotny say that freaked - how do you call him, X? - that freaked X out?

“He called him comragpde in Russian. Then he called him a traitor, a liar, a forger and a murderer in Polish. That's when X ran.” Lukas picks up his bag and rummages around in it.

“What about the woman?”

“What about her?” Lukas grumbles, picks up the small vial and puts it in his pocket.

“Do you know her name?”

“No.” Lukas leans back and looks out of the window.

Meziere’s phone beeps. He looks at the screen and laughs. “This was quick. They are super-efficient today.”

“Well, this is Switzerland after all.” Lukas says absent-mindedly.

“This is a list of passengers on the same flight as X. Would you take a look, please?”

Lukas takes Meziere’s mobile and puts on his readers. Then he scrolls down the list of images.

Her name is Mary Deevy. Irish passport. There is nothing mystic about her. She is forty nine. She doesn't look it, he thinks. Her sister, slightly older, is called Siobhan. There were two Maliks on the flight, Navid and Mohammed. Lukas hands back the phone. “We’re looking for a ’Deevy’”.

“Deevy. English?” Meziere punches a number into his phone.

“Irish. Jesus, it's been over an hour now...” Lukas runs a hand over his face. “Are we far off?”

Schmidt turns off the lights. “We are here.” He pulls the car onto the emergency vehicle access ramp.

Lukas's runs through the corridors of the accident and emergency department. “Novotny!” He shouts at the nurse in reception. 

“Still in intensive care, over there.”

“How is he?”

“I don't know any details, sorry.” The nurse turns back to her paperwork.

Lukas tuts, turns and bumps into Meziere. “Intensive care.” He says. “Over there.”

It takes an age before the security door to the secure department is opened by a male nurse.

“Novotny?” Lukas says, breathless.

“Meziere. Interpol.” Meziere says behind him.

“Come this way.” The nurse leads them down a brightly lit corridor. To the right Lukas looks into booths so full of bleeping machines that the patients are virtually invisible. “How is he?” Lukas asks anxiously.

“He is here.” The nurse points into the room at the end of the corridor. “Herr Novotny, you have guests.”

Juergen is sitting up in bed, his arm in a sling. “What took you so long, Polack? I could have died.”

Lukas strides up to Juergen’s bed and looks at him closely. “I thought you had. I thought he’d done to you what he did to me.” He sits down on the edge of Juergen’s bed.

Juergen grabs Lukas’s arm with his good hand. “Novak, you got to stop being such a old woman! You always paint the devil on the wall.”

“I have seen the devil on the wall.” Lukas mutters. “He did not prick you?”

“Juergen laughs. “He’s a prick but no, he didn't prick me!”

“Jesus.” Lukas whispers.

“You got him yet?” Juergen looks past Lukas.

“We know his name. We’re onto it.”

Lukas turns round. “He’s bound to have another passport.”

“You're stating the bleeding obvious, Novak! What's his name?”

“Deevy, Irish. How long do you have to stay here?”

“I think I am free to go. In fact I was only waiting for you! What kept you?”

“Technology.” Lukas says. “Let's get you out of here. I am absolutely starving.”

“Yes.” Says Juergen and throws back the covers. “I can see that you are positively wasting away.”