Her voice exuded excitement through the phone. Gunner was distracted slightly by Cam waving him over to the car, where two soldiers waited to search him.
“What’s that?” he asked, ignoring Cam’s request.
Jackal finished her thought. “It was actually a form of written German script created in the early twentieth century and taught in schools up until the start of World War II. The generation who used it would be all dead at this point. Professor von Zwick is probably the last.”
Gunner closed his eyes and sighed. “Was.” He felt incredibly guilty for bringing trouble to the old man’s doorstep. When Gunner promised von Zwick he’d finish the man’s life’s work, he meant it.
Jackal caught her insensitivity. “Um, sorry. Was.”
“Gunner!” Cam said insistently. “They’re getting a little fussy over here.”
He held one finger up to indicate to her he was coming. “Jackal, I know you’ve got a lot on your platter. Can you unpack this for us as quickly as possible? Maybe get Ghost to sign off on using the professor, Kala Bale?”
“I’m one step ahead of you, Gunner. We’ve taken over an entire wing of the building just for this operation. Ghost has been called to the White House for a briefing. I suspect he’ll need information from you to prepare.”
“We’re on the ground, and our first stop will be a debriefing by our people here at the British embassy. Just one more question. Before von Zwick died, he mentioned Odessa. Do you think he’s trying to say this whole thing dates back to the end of the war and the Nazis escaping Germany?”
“If the newspaper articles and headlines he’d saved since 1945 are any indication, the war never ended in the minds of some. Is it related to Odessa that Kala discussed the long-lost Nazis? I don’t know. I hope to have more answers when you return.”
“Come with us, sir. Now!” ordered one of the Azerbaijani guards.
Gunner spun around as two soldiers reached out to grab him by the arm.
“Easy, boys. Let’s not get ourselves hurt, okay?”
Chapter Thirty
Odessa Science Facility
Greater Caucasus Mountains
Gabala, Azerbaijan
Wagner would’ve loved to rest on his laurels. In his mind, and more importantly, in the opinion of his boss, Derek Jorgensen, the attack on the U.S. Embassy in Baku was a resounding success. He was able to overcome obstacles as they arose, and although the execution wasn’t flawless, the end result was astonishing. He walked through Einstein’s audio-visual center, a small theater-type room filled with large television monitors. Each of the TVs was set to a different international news network that had descended upon Baku to cover the story. The headlines were sensational, and the visual of the grieving would have a profound impact on viewers.
Wagner couldn’t stop pacing the floor, as he was still hyped up. Although he hadn’t slept in thirty hours, the combination of the successful operation and the pharmaceutical stimulants he was taking in the form of Adderall kept him going. He’d crash soon. But first, it was time to bask in the glory.
Despite the soundproof design of the audio-visual center, Wagner could faintly hear a high-pitched sound resembling an alarm. He walked to the door that exited into the center hub of Odessa’s science facility to determine the source. As he entered the hallway, the shrill noise was somewhat of a shock to his nervous system and immediately annoyed him. Several scientists rushed past him in their white coats, causing him to be pushed into the wall, angering him even more.
“Was ist los?” he shouted in German. What’s happening?
A facility security guard rushed to his side. “Sir, there are reports of a breach in one of the BSL labs.”
BSL was an acronym for biosafety level and referred to laboratories designed with various degrees of pathogen protection. A BSL-4, a rarity, was typically operated under the auspices of the American CDC, the World Health Organization, or other nations with advanced disease prevention programs.
It was not unusual for private entities like pharmaceutical research and production firms to have BSL-3 laboratories. This level of protection was designed in the event the work performed involved lethal chemical agents or diseases capable of contaminating the surrounding environment. Einstein had several BSL-3 laboratories within its facilities although they should not have been undertaking any activity with sarin without the biocontainment protections afforded by a BSL-4.
Wagner chased after the scientists who were rushing down a long corridor toward the sound of the alarm. Along the walls, warning lights flashed red and then bright white, causing a strobe-like effect. Wagner’s mind, because of its near exhaustion, reacted with a throbbing headache that could easily become a migraine. He held his hand over his eyes to block them from direct view of the unceasing electronic flashes.
He turned down the final corridor and found a dozen Einstein personnel gathered around a thick glass observation window. They were peering down into one of the BSL-3 laboratories to view the event that had triggered the alarm. Wagner rudely pushed through them to gain access to the protective glass separating the corridor from the lab. He frowned as he saw three scientists who appeared to be gasping for oxygen.
Wagner, despite his ruthlessness, thought it was inconsiderate that the scientists’ coworkers were observing the spectacle unfolding in the lab. He turned to the security guards who arrived after him.
“Clear this corridor! Find me Kaspar!”
“Yes, sir!” replied the guards in unison. “Everyone, return to your workstations. Out! Now!”
The two guards manhandled the scientists, yanking them away from the glass window before forcing them down the hallway. Wagner was now alone, his head tilted to the side in wonderment. A set of double doors opened to his left, grabbing his attention. Dr. Kaspar emerged with a distraught look on his face. Wagner immediately turned to him and demanded answers.
“What’s happening?”
“An accident. They
