Cointroin Airport, Geneva, 5:53 pm
"Welcome to Switzerland!" welcomed the air hostess as a well-groomed man, who looked to be in his fifties exited the Qatar Airways Boeing 737-700. He slowly returned the favour by grinning back. His dry lips and oily skin displayed his ignorance for skin care.
"Nicholas?" called out the man whose accent was Indian. At his request an old wrinkled man, with white wispy hair arrived. "Yes sir?"
"Tell them I that I've arrived" commanded the Indian.
"Right away sir" and walked away.
* * *
Pearl Residences, Geneva, Switzerland, 6:09 pm
Mohammed's hands were trembling "So early? He's arrived so early?" He turned towards Giggs. "You said he would arrive tomorrow."
Giggs shrugged "That's what he told me." He looked at his watch. "And your excuse for killing the physicist?" he asked as he adjusted his metallic frame glasses.
Mohammed sighed "I'm still thinking."
"He should arrive..." Giggs paused and glanced at his Rolex "within an hour." He finished.
Mohammed recalled the last time he had met face-to-face with his boss, six months ago.
All the nine members were present at the round table on the top floor of the skyline residence at Mumbai, India. The room had an amber glow with leather chairs and a long glass table surround by artefacts. Mohammed attempted to identify them. They were Mesopotamian, Greek, Aztec, Ancient Indian. One particular stood out. It was confined inside a bulletproof glass case, an idol of the dancing Shiva, performing the dance of destruction.
The boss placed his hand on the table, "you said that this was an emergency situation. Am I right, Adrian?"
The Romanian shot up, "yes sir".
Mohammed sat face-to-face with the boss, separated by a distance of six feet. They glared into each other's eyes. He didn't like his boss; he had the intention of overthrowing him from his position.
Adrian revealed his findings, "Last week-uh, we were spying on the Italian physicist Dr. Del Piero and-uh we think that he's onto something big." He paused, "really big."
All eyes and ears were on him.
"The research he's doing, if proven correct, could be bigger than what Albert Einstein discovered."
Adrian unzipped his laptop bag and pulled out his laptop, a dell. He took about a minute on his dell before he displayed an image on the screen.
"This photo was taken last week at a CERN institute in Geneva. We couldn't break into his office but this is the best we've got" announced Adrian. He pushed the laptop closer towards the boss.
A tall, spectacled, blonde haired man glanced at the screen, "Looks like some mathematical mumbo jumbo to me."
The boss bent down towards the laptop screen. In the image was a window, open providing a clear view of the room inside, surrounded by bushes. In the room was a large blackboard, with huge equations. He whispered two words, "Dear god."
The boss sat straight, "Mohammed, Giggs and Lorssen" he called out.
All three of them shot up.
"I want you to shift all your operations to Geneva, find out what he knows and," he paused, "I want him alive." He finished.
"Mohammed!" Giggs called out. Mohammed snapped out of his flashback, here he was, back to Geneva. "The professor passed out so we can't interrogate him and you gotta come up something fast" informed Giggs.
"Okay I've got something"
"What?" asked Giggs.
Mohammed rubbed his hands together, "here goes."
* * *
Geneva Police HQ, Geneva, 6:23 pm
Silvestre walked into his office, took off his coat and threw it on the hanger bolted to wall, right next to the photos of the previous inspector. Have to get rid of those.
He walked up to his desk and pulled out file from his drawer and grabbed his coffee mug. He went to get cup of coffee.
"Hey boss! Where have you been? Didn't see you after the attacks" asked one of his lieutenants.
"Nothing, just some battery problems with the car" explained Silvestre.
"Yeah, got some battery issues with mine too" said the lieutenant.
Silvestre rolled his eyes; he didn't feel like getting into a conversation with anybody at this point. He had bump on his head, which he had got from the attacks that took place a few hours ago. Also, he had lost good men on the field. Good men who had families.
"So apart from this, anything new?" asked the inspector. He didn't want to make himself look weak at any point.
"Yeah there was uh" the lieutenant scratched his head, "a traffic accident at a junction near a residential area involving a Mercedes and a container, I'm not sure where exactly it happened. Nadeau was handling the case."
Silvestre took a sip of his coffee, "Any casualties?"
"Just one, the poor guy was jack-knifed" informed the lieutenant. He took a sip of his coffee too, "Any luck in catching the most wanted man in Europe?"
Silvestre sighed, "Nope, I guess he left the city. If he were in the city I bet we would have caught him by now."
The lieutenant raised an eyebrow, "How'd he manage to escape the city?"
"We failed to intercept an unauthorized helicopter. That could've been him." Silvestre suggested.
"Well! Good luck boss!" wished the lieutenant.
Silvestre turned around and began walking towards his office, on his way he scratched his head, "damn these lice!" he cursed.
* * *
Unknown Hideout, Geneva, 7:03 pm
At first everything was blurry.
Gradually, the two figures into front of him materialised.
Sadowsky's whole world was upside down. All his blood rushed to his head. His feet were under tremendous pressure thanks to his weight, which was being pulled down by gravity.
Hanging by a thread.
Fortunately, all his clothes were on, his buttoned shirt and trousers.
Beneath him was a cylindrical container filled with water. Ice cold water. Large chunks of ice were bobbing up and down in the water.
Above him, at his feet was a hanging lamp which was the only source of light in the room.
In front of him were two men, he immediately recognised the one to his left. Lorssen.
"That was a nice show you put up, Houdini" he said. His nose was bandaged which must have been put on to treat what Sadowsky had given the Austrian during the road trip.
"I'd like to see how you'd manage with this one, mein freund" mocked Lorssen with his intimidating accent.
A ringing sound came from his pocket. The source of the vibrations was his phone.
"Yes sir" he said as he accepted the call.
"Yes sir" he said as the caller hung up.
"The boss has arrived, he'd be pleased to meet you" he told Sadowsky. The latter left the room, leaving the other man in charge.
Doubts began popping in his head.
Will I ever lead a normal life after this?
* * *
Rue Du Vuache, Geneva, 7:07 pm
Two cars, a black Mercedes and white BMW carrying Mohammed and his boss respectively rode through the Rue Du Vuache.
In the BMW, The boss kept profoundly thinking about his target and why Mohammed kept silent. He barely spoke two sentences ever since they met ten minutes ago.
For now, he would just have to wait and see.
* * *
The Mercedes, which was in the lead, took the second car into a narrow, isolated route.
Two minutes into the journey along the narrow route, Giggs looked upon the old, tattered structure in front of him. He turned to Mohammed who was in the passenger's seat, "This is their hideout?" he asked, though knowing the fact that it was true. So much for luxury.
The car came to a halt behind the warehouse. The engine's vibrations that permeated throughout the car stopped. Mohammed put his foot on the uneven, un-metalled road beneath his feet.
Simultaneously, the boss stepped out of the comforts of his BMW.
As the BMW left, the boss eyed Mohammed, who was constantly trying to avoid eye contact with him. He confronted Mohammed as their paths led to the back door of the warehouse.
"We have Andreas in here, Am I right?" said the boss. He noticed a drop of sweat trickle down Mohammed's neck. He saw the tension and fear in his eyes. Fear of me.
Mohammed's fear indicated the supreme position and dominance of the boss.
"He's dead," stated Mohammed, trembling.
The boss' eyebrows narrowed down even more. Giggs took a step back to avoid being collateral damage in a battle that would soon begin.
Fear gripped Mohammed.
"Are you telling me Andreas Del Piero is dead?" grumbled the boss. Huge mistake.
"I extracted all the information required" said Mohammed. "He also killed one of our members, his name was Adrian. Our target was hostile." He said, in his defence.
The boss narrowed his eyes.
"Baxter is the new president of the United States!" said Giggs in an attempt to cease what was going to be a heated argument. No one paid him any attention.
"What exactly did happen, Mohammed?" asked the boss.
Mohammed's mind wandered off to the night it all took place.
Mohammed and the assassin both went their separate ways at the lobby of the Silver Stars hotel. As he reached the other end he signalled the assassin to be ready.
Mohammed raised his head and tried to identify which one of the strangers was his target. His head halted at the sight of Andreas Del Piero at the hotel's reception desk.
Andreas' face displayed signs of fear as he ended his conversation and walked towards the elevator.
Mohammed's eye caught the end of the full sleeve chequered shirt which Andreas was wearing. A dark red blood stain. The blood of Adrian. Who, according to him, was a martyr, a soldier of humanity.
Mohammed steadily increased his pace as he stalked his target, followed by the assassin. The elevator was in an area away from the rest of the crowd.
Without a warning, Andreas whirled around and hurled his suitcase at Mohammed. The force of the impact brought Mohammed down. The assassin yanked his pistol from his pocket and aimed it at Del Piero. He steadily approached his target as Andreas stared at the gun, speechless.
Mohammed brought himself up as he recovered from the blow. He grabbed his collar and violently interrogated him, "Who all know about your research!?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" he lied.
"Lie to me one more time and I'll blow your head to smithereens!" threatened Mohammed.
Andreas panicked, "please let me go" he pleaded before Mohammed. He mercilessly hurled his fist at the physicist, bringing him down to his knees.
Andreas looked up at the face of Mohammed, the right side of his face was swollen red he opened his mouth and uttered two words, "Benjamin Sadowsky." Mohammed smiled cunningly at the physicist, "Enjoy the alakhira."
Wasting no time, Andreas launched himself up and took off in full sprint in order to save his life. The assassin, with cat-like reactions, aimed the pistol at Andreas as he was making a run for it. He pulled the trigger.
Andreas felt a split-second of pain before his world blacked out.
The deafening gunshot brought Andreas' life to an end. Blood trickled down from his head. His lifeless body fell down on the polished floor.
Mohammed and the assassin fled the crime scene the second they heard the bloodcurdling scream which was still ringing in their ears.
* * *