The Omicron Kill - An Omega Thriller (Omega Series Book 11) Read online

  His eyes were narrowed and sharp. He was thinking, as I had intended him to, that enemies of the U.S.A. equated to enemies of Omega, and whoever had taken down Omega 1 and 2 might now come after them, however low their profile was. So our supposed research was now of major interest to him. Having us develop that research in Argentina, where he could keep tabs on it, was suddenly very attractive to him indeed.

  The prawns in garlic arrived and the wine waiter brought us a glass of chilled dry sherry to accompany it. He sniffed the sherry, twitched an eyebrow and sipped it.

  “What exactly is this research you want to conduct, Nicholas? You understand that we cannot contemplate anything unethical or immoral.”

  I smiled blandly. “Naturally. Ours is a very ethical company, Narciso. Our only objective is to make the world a better, safer place. Of course…” I broke a hot roll and soaked up some of the hot, spicy sauce, then stuffed it in my mouth and chewed. “Of course,” I repeated with my mouth full, “the problem is that too often politicians and legislators lag behind scientists when it comes to adapting to new, socio-economic developments. What we are seeking to do is to integrate biological components into computer systems to achieve authentic artificial intelligence, so that cyber attacks like the one that brought down the stock exchanges in Wall Street and Brussels can never happen again.”

  He went very still. I smiled. He said, “You are talking about cyborgs…”

  I winced. “That has dramatic connotations, but in a very limited sense you are right. However, think of it this way, a bloodhound’s brain which interprets data from viruses, even dormant wildfire viruses like the neutron bomb, as smell.”

  “Wow…”

  “Exactly. Smell, taste, touch, images and sounds are simply the brain interpreting data from subatomic particles, right? So you program the brain to respond to certain data, and you can have a pack of bloodhounds surfing the net hunting for hostile viruses. This is a proposition which is undoubtedly of benefit to humanity as a whole, but the bleeding heart brigade in the West will simply not allow that kind of research.”

  He was quiet for a long time, eating methodically and sipping his sherry. After a time he glanced at me sidelong and said, “This could be of interest to Argentina.”

  I smiled like I was relieved and spoke a little too quickly: “We would naturally be very keen to meet any fees and expenses that might arise in presenting the proposal to ministers…”

  He looked me in the eye and said flatly, “We do not need to be coy, Nicholas. I require a bribe of one million pounds sterling. I will provide you with the details of my offshore account.”

  I sighed again and smiled. “It is so good to do business with somebody who does not beat about the bush, Narciso.”

  He laughed. “Of course. You know the definition of an honest businessman?”

  “Tell me.”

  “One who does not lie about being bribed. So where do we take it from here? I would like to meet your principal.”

  I didn’t answer straight away. I mopped up the last of the sauce from my prawns and stuffed the bread in my mouth. “And he would like to meet you. But we need to be discreet. MI6 and the CIA are both interested in his research, and we have competitors in the field, especially in Japan, who are also watching him with interest.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  The waiter came and took our plates away. The wine waiter approached with the bottle of Vega Sicilia and there was a small ritual while Narciso smelled the cork, then the splash in his glass, and then he tasted it. After that, he nodded and grunted.

  “Superb.” He said it shrugging and shaking his head, like he didn’t know why it was superb, but it was. “Superb,” he said again.

  The waiter filled our huge glasses with a couple of inches and went away. Then the lamb arrived. We didn’t talk again until we had tried the lamb and savored the wine. I made suitable noises, which were heartfelt, and after an appropriate period of reverence, I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and said, “He has chosen a place for a meeting. Only he knows where it is. Not even I know. When I tell him you are interested, he will tell me where and when, and I will tell you. I have to ask you not to tell anybody else either, so that only we three know the time and place of the meeting. There he will fill you in as to the full range of benefits to you personally.” I smiled. “The million is just the tip of the iceberg—and what he is looking for from the Argentinean government in terms of freedom to conduct research and development.”

  He nodded, gazing down at his plate as he ate. After a while he looked up and raised his glass. “I think we can do business, Nicholas.”

  I raised my own glass and they rang out as we knocked them together. “Here’s to a successful conclusion to the enterprise,” I said.

  “Here’s to that!” he replied, not knowing that he was drinking to his own death.

  TEN

  We talked about everything from the scourge of socialism and the benefits of free market anarchy, to the death penalty and the virtues of the British monarchy. Then, at four PM, he dropped me off at the hotel and I made my way up to my suite. There I ordered a pot of black coffee and sent Njal a message saying simply, ‘Call me’.

  Then I had a cold shower, changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, drank the pot of coffee and went for a walk around the Plaza de Mayo and the Plaza Colon, taking the burner with me. Njal called at just after six. He said:

  “What?”

  “It was quicker than expected. He’s enthusiastic, waiting to hear from my principal.”

  “You want to bring it forward?”

  “I think we should. I’ll call him tomorrow morning, set it up for Saturday, 29th. You good with that?”

  He was quiet for a count of three. Then said, “Yuh. I call you Saturday morning, eight, to confirm.”

  He hung up.

  I spent the rest of the day visiting museums and reading English language newspapers on pavement cafes, giving Narciso’s men time to bug my room and my phone. I made no effort to keep a low profile. I was an English businessman doing business in Buenos Aires with a government minister. I had nothing to hide and no reason to feel nervous, or to suspect I was being spied on. That was my front, and that was my persona. When I had left the hotel I’d spotted my tail, but it was low key and low tech. I didn’t figure Narciso was suspicious, I figured he simply wanted to make sure I was who I said I was.

  At six that evening I made my way back to the hotel and called a London number Jim had given me. A pretty voice answered after the third ring and said, “Soft Solutions, how may I direct your call?”

  I said, “Hi, Pam, it’s Nicholas, put me through to Jerry, will you?”

  “Hello, Mr. Eddington, just putting you through. How’s Buenos Aires?”

  “Great. Loving it. Thanks, Pam.”

  There was a click when the call was put through to L.A., and Jim’s voice came on the line. “Hey, Nick, how’s it going?”

  “Good. Mr. Terry seems to be very interested in our proposition. He wants to meet Phil. How soon can he be here?”

  Jim laughed. “He’s already there. I swear that guy is paranoid. How soon do you want to meet up?”

  “I’d like to strike while the iron’s hot. You think tomorrow is too soon?”

  “I don’t see why. I’ll call Phil and get back to you. Listen, how much is he looking for to grease the wheels?”

  Now was the time to bait the hook and make it irresistible.

  “He asked for a million.”

  “Cool, less than we expected.”

  “Yeah, I told him there would be other benefits, but I didn’t specify what.”

  “Good. If there’s anything left in the kitty, that’s for you and me, pal.”

  I laughed, said I’d be waiting for his call and hung up. I had absolutely no doubt in my mind that the conversation had been recorded and listened to. It would all go toward reassuring Narciso and whetting his appetite.

  Jim called back ten minutes later.
>
  “Nick, I spoke to Phil. He’s ready to go ahead as soon as you are. He said he’d call you on your cell to give you the details.”

  “Cool, thanks, Jerry. I think we have a deal here.”

  “Glad to hear it. Take it easy.”

  I hung up again and settled down to an evening of watching TV. At eight I ordered a steak and fries in my room and by ten I was in bed reading about how the ancient city of Troy had not been in Turkey at all, but in Cambridge. Who knew?

  * * *

  I was up at six and went for a run. At eight I had coffee and croissants sent up to my suite and called Narciso on his private line.

  “Good morning, Nicholas. I see you don’t hang around. That is good. What news have you for me?”

  “Good morning! Now, Phil, that’s my principal, is very keen to meet you. He has asked me to apologize to you if his methods seem a little cloak and dagger, but the industry we are in is cut throat, and a product like the one we are working on…”

  I hesitated a moment and he cut in. “I know, Nicholas, it could be worth billions. I am aware of that.”

  He labored the words, implying that he was going to be expecting a much bigger reward than the million I had promised him. I smiled to myself, but my voice was hesitant and a little nervous.

  “Well, yes, if it takes off.”

  “So where and when would Phil like to meet?”

  “Is tomorrow evening too soon? I know you must have a busy schedule.”

  “Tomorrow evening will be fine. Where?”

  “OK, there is a small hotel called Las Garzas. It’s a few miles west of the city, near the town of Navarro.”

  “I know the town, but not the hotel.”

  “That’s OK. What Phil would like you to do is to drive, in a nondescript family saloon, not a Bentley!” We both laughed and I continued, “Drive up to Lujan, and from there take the RP47 south and west toward Navarro for about twenty-eight miles. There you’ll come to a junction where I will be waiting for you and I’ll lead you the rest of the way to the hotel. As I say, it’s a bit cloak and dagger, but that’s Phil, you know? And I guess he has a point, there is a lot at stake. He asks that you come alone. He will be alone too. I’ll leave the both of you to it, and he will have a private discussion with you.”

  He was quiet for a while, like he was thinking, and I wondered for a moment if he was going to back out, but finally he said, “Yes, that sounds fine. I will be in a white Focus.”

  “Can you be there for nine thirty?”

  “I will be there.” Now he hesitated a moment. “Nicholas.”

  “Yes, Narciso?”

  “If this is a trick, a trap, a kidnapping… You understand the consequences will be catastrophic for you.”

  I managed to sound genuinely astonished. “Good heavens, Narciso! We might be a little secretive about our product, but we don’t go around kidnapping people! Least of all government ministers!” I burst out laughing. “We wouldn’t get very far in business if we behaved like that, would we!”

  He chuckled comfortably. “Forgive me, Nicholas. We learn to be very careful. Argentina is not England.”

  “Yes, well, rest assured, the only place we want you to be is in your office, facilitating our research!”

  “Very well, very well. I shall see you tomorrow evening, then.”

  “See you then. Should you need me for anything, I’ll be at Las Garzas, but you can always get me on my mobile.”

  He hung up and I sat for a while with my feet up, smoking and drinking coffee—and thinking. So far everything was going according to plan, easier than I had expected, and that worried me. But however much I turned it over I couldn’t see a flaw in it. I’d been introduced to him by a U.S. senator, he’d bugged my phone and I’d said all the right things while he listened, and from the way he was speaking, he was buying into the story he’d heard, and wanted a piece of the action.

  So everything was going according to plan.

  I called down to reception and had them bring my car around to the front. Then I grabbed the book I’d been reading and went down.

  I left Buenos Aires headed south, through Lanús and Lomas de Zamora. From there I took a roundabout route along the RP10 and then the RP6 to a small town called Cañuelas. It was a modern grid pattern town that could have been any small town in the U.S.A. I drove around the streets for a while, enjoying the sunshine and noting that the VW Gol that had been on my tail since I left the hotel was still with me.

  Eventually I stopped on Rivadavia and waited for him to pull in a few cars behind me. Then I got out and walked up San Martin to the Scachi Bar, where I sat outside, ordered a coffee and settled down to read my book. A minute later I glanced up and saw my shadow arrive and sit at the Bar Rocklets across the road. He was short and overweight. He looked like an ex-cop. I gave him a couple of minutes to order his coffee and settle in, and then I called the waitress. I explained to her in elaborate, bad Spanish that I wanted a beer, I would pay now but I needed to run across the road to the supermarket, could I leave my book and my beer there? Would she keep an eye on them? She smiled and said she would. In my peripheral vision I could see my shadow watching, alert.

  I got up, leaving my book on the table, and sprinted across the Avenida Libertad and up the stairs into the big supermarket. I bought a pack of three bars of soap, paid for them at the check out and left via the parking lot at the side. Then I ran fast along Libertad and down Del Carmen back onto Rivadavia, where I had parked. I approached the back of his VW, peeled the wrappers off the three bars of soap and stuffed them up his exhaust. After that, I sprinted back the way I had come and sauntered back to my table, which now held a beer as well as my book. My shadow across the road was looking worried, but relaxed when he saw me return.

  I spent another ten minutes drinking and reading, then made my way back to the car. While he was trying to start his, I drove past him, like I was going back toward Buenos Aires, but instead I looped around the town at the Cañuelas Roundabout and took the 205 south. There I floored the gas all the way to the town of Lobos, and put twenty-five miles between me and Narciso’s watchman.

  For the rest of the drive I kept my eyes glued on the mirror, but there was nobody following me. I figured my ex-tail still had his head stuck in his engine trying to find out why it wasn’t starting, and he was too scared to tell his boss.

  A mile and a half after Laguna Navarro I turned right onto the RP47, a narrow road with acres of empty fields on either side. I followed that for three miles and finally came to the turn off for the Hotel Las Garzas. It was a broad, dirt track, and after seven hundred yards there was a turn off to the left and a large copse of tall trees. I pulled in and found Njal sitting, smoking, in a Ford pickup with the window open. I climbed out and walked over to him. We shook and he grinned at me. “You’re late.”

  I pulled out my phone and called Narciso Terry.

  “Nicholas, I did not expect to hear from you until tonight. Is everything in order?”

  “Almost. But I think there has been some misunderstanding, Narciso. I had asked you yesterday for discretion, and I stressed that Phil was quite strict on that point. Yet today I went for a bit of sightseeing and the sight I saw was a rather clumsy ex-cop tailing me in full sight. That makes me uncomfortable, and worst of all, it makes Phil very uncomfortable. There has to be trust between us, Narciso, or this is not going to work.”

  “I understand. It was an oversight. The Secret Service, you know, they try to keep an eye on anyone who meets with a minister. I will take care of it.”

  “For crying out loud, Narciso! Are you telling me the Secret Service know about this?”

  “No, no! Please, listen to me. They have orders to watch me. They see me go out and have lunch, so they watch the person I have lunch with for a few days, to see if they are an enemy of the state. That is their only interest. But I will call them off.”

  “You’d better. That is not the kind of attention we want. I have to say I am su
rprised, Narciso. I thought we had an understanding.”

  “We have. Please rest assured that the problem is solved.”

  “Good. And tell your guy that the reason his car won’t start is because he has three cakes of soap rammed up his exhaust.”

  There was a long silence, then, unamused, “Yes, I see. I understand.”

  I laughed. “Everybody in this game is smart, Narciso. Let’s play nice, OK? Are we still on for tonight or should I call it off?”

  “No, no! We are still on. As I said, it was an oversight, but I will deal with it right away.”

  I hung up. Njal was still grinning. “You put soap in his exhaust?”

  “Potatoes just get blown out. Soap starts to melt with the hot moisture and forms a kind of mush that yields just enough not to get blown out, but blocks enough of the gases to choke the engine. You need three cakes for it to be really effective. Don’t say I never taught you anything. Now, what have you got?”

  He opened the door of the cab and swung down. He had a flask of coffee and offered me some. I shook my head.

  “I booked a room at the hotel for tomorrow night. The most expensive suite they have. I told them it is for the minister, Narciso Terry, but it’s very confidential. We want the best service, but absolute confidentiality. If they are good, we come back. If they are not, there will be consequences. My Spanish is not so good, but his English was great.”

  “Good. Were they cooperative?”