Labyrinth

Greene smiled. “Unless, of course, we increase the dosage of the poison into his bloodstream.”

“Why would you do that?” Annja asked.

“Because you’re not moving fast enough,” he said. “You’re on the clock here, Annja.”

Jonas checked his watch. “As I said, I can monitor the flow of toxin into his body. But after a certain time, we won’t be able to undo the damage.”

Green glanced at Jonas. “How much longer does our antiquated bookseller have to live?”

Jonas looked at his watch. “I’d estimate no more than twelve hours. That’s the maximum time I can reverse the damage.”

“What’s happening to him now?” Annja asked.

“His neurological system is being ravaged but the effects at this point are temporary. An increase in the dosage will accelerate the damage and make it irreversible.”

“And if you stop the flow into him?”

Jonas smiled. “It’s not that easy, Annja. It’s not as though you can simply rip the IV out and expect a full recovery.”

Damn, Annja thought.

“He needs to receive the counterdrug to this one to make a full recovery.”

“You have it?”

“Of course we have it.” Greene nodded to Jonas. “Show her.”

Jonas brought out a small black doctor’s bag and unzipped it. Reaching in, he pulled out a different IV bag. “This is the drip that will reverse the effects of the drug on Fairclough.” He eyed Annja. “You don’t know how to administer an IV, do you?”

“I can’t stand needles.”

“Ah, good,” Jonas said. “Then you will obviously need to keep me around after you get the book.”

Annja smiled at Greene. “How about that? Your doctor just sold you out.”

“He did no such thing.”

“Sure sounded like it.” Annja glanced around. “Where’s the automaton you call Kessel?”

“Waiting outside the door,” Greene said, “although if I were you, I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him that way. He’s very touchy about his condition.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Are we done here?”

Greene nodded. “Twelve hours. You have a watch?”

“Must have forgotten it back when you kidnapped me.”

Greene unstrapped his and tossed it to Annja. She turned it over and looked at it closely. “A fake Rolex?”

“What about it? Keeps good time.”

Annja held it up. “Another hypocrisy. You like the way it looks.”

“I like the way it keeps time.”

“I’ll bet you have a few real ones back home in your underwear drawer.”

Jonas shook his head. “We both got one when we were in Hong Kong to protest the environmental impact of recycled computer parts. There’s nothing special about them, but they do keep decent time.” He rolled up his sleeve and Annja saw he wore one, as well.

Annja checked Greene’s watch and made a note of the time. “Fine, but when I come back, you’d better have that bag rigged and ready to go.”

“We will.”

Annja fixed them both with a long, hard glare. “One more thing—this isn’t over. When I return, we’re going to have a serious discussion about your little organization and its stated goals for killing innocent people.”

Greene waved her off. “Whatever makes you feel good, Annja, that’s fine. Now run along. Kessel is waiting.”

Jonas grinned. “Have fun.”

Annja frowned and walked out of the room. Kessel stood just outside, as Greene had promised.

“You coming with me?” she asked.

Kessel nodded.

“All right, then. Let’s get to it.”

Chapter 7

Kessel led Annja back down the carpeted corridor and broke left near the entrance, taking her through a massive kitchen that could have easily handled the workload of two restaurants. Annja marveled at the shining cookware and six-burner cooktops with names she recognized from the fanciest restaurants. She whistled quietly. Fairclough certainly knew how to live.

A single heavy door led from the kitchen out to the backyard. But yard wasn’t quite the appropriate name for the sprawling lawn that greeted them. Floodlights illuminated a pair of tennis courts in the distance, an Olympic-size swimming pool and a beautiful flagstone patio area complete with its own outdoor kitchen and bar area.

Annja frowned. Fairclough didn’t seem like the type to do much entertaining and yet this home seemed custom-made for it. Then again, it would provide interesting cover for his underground maze. Perhaps he’d invested in this elaborate setup to simply help hide the book he sought to protect.

Either way, the place was luxurious and amazing. Annja found herself staring in wonder at the carefully trimmed plants and bushes they passed.

Kessel, for his part, seemed unmoved. He simply kept striding ahead toward a distant spot concealed behind a low rise in the yard. As they crested the grassy slope, Annja saw the outline of a large building and assumed this was the barn.

It looked old, in stark contrast to the rest of the estate. She could tell by the clapboard weathered to a fine slate gray that it had been built more than a hundred years ago.

Kessel stopped in front of the main door and pointed. Annja glanced at him. “You’re not going to get the door?”

He just stared at her.

Annja sighed. “Look, if you’re coming into the maze with me, we need to get some basic communication down. I take it you’re familiar with hand signals?”

Kessel didn’t respond for a moment but then finally nodded once.