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'This'll do,' Finn muttered as he stopped in front of a large crypt, the name 'Touzet-Guibert' carved above the lintel. Without warning, he kicked in the metal door. 'Wait out here until I get a couple of light sticks out of my Go Bag.'
Kate silently complied, in no hurry to enter the mausoleum.
A few moments later, Finn motioned her inside. Reluctantly entering, her gaze was drawn to the two light sticks wedged into wall crevices, the makeshift sconces illuminating the crypt with an eerie green glow. The unmoving Ivo Uhlemann was on the floor, propped against a marble wall.
'Have a seat,' Finn said, gesturing to an ornately carved sarcophagus.
Envisioning what was inside that stone coffin, Kate shook her head. 'No, thanks. What's next on the agenda?' she asked, thinking it was time for Finn to divulge the rest of the mission op.
Turning his head, he glanced at Uhlemann. 'Time to wake up Sleeping Beauty.' None too gently, he ripped the piece of duct tape from the older man's mouth. He then slapped Uhlemann once on each cheek.
Dr Uhlemann blinked his eyes. With his perfectly coifed white hair, neatly trimmed beard and expensive, tailored suit, he cut an elegant figure. Hardly Kate's image of a villainous neo-n.a.z.i.
'Where are we?' their captive enquired calmly, remarkably composed.
Removing his penknife from its sheath, Finn squatted in front of Uhlemann and cut the duct tape binding his wrists. 'We're in a mausoleum on the outskirts of town.'
'What an ironic choice given that you intend to kill me.' Dr Uhlemann glanced at the beautifully crafted marble walls. 'My compliments, Sergeant McGuire. Such a lovely setting in which to spend the eternal quietus.'
'Actually, I intend to trade you for the Dark Angel. Your chauffeur nice fella, by the way volunteered to deliver the ransom demand to your pals at the Seven Research Foundation.'
The older man slowly moved his hands in a circular motion to restore circulation. 'A futile exercise since the Seven will never remand the Dark Angel to your custody,' he replied. Then, smiling enigmatically, he said, 'To save time, may I suggest that you put the gun to my head and pull the trigger?'
62.
The Seven Research Foundation, Paris 0215 hours 'Du bist ein dummkopf!' Angelika Schwarz railed, furiously pounding on the driver's chest with a balled fist. Standing in the middle of the front lobby, she didn't care who witnessed the dressing down. The big oaf was lucky that she didn't jab a letter opener into his heart and impale him to the wall. 'How could you have bungled this so badly? You couldn't take a p.i.s.s in the dark without wetting both feet.'
A computer technician who worked down the hall scurried past. Although bug-eyed, and clearly shocked, he knew better than to intervene.
'It's not my fault,' Dolf Reinhardt whined, brow-beaten and p.u.s.s.y-whipped. 'McGuire ambushed us!' Attired in a too-tight trench coat with no b.u.t.tons and belted with plastic bags that had been twisted and knotted together, he looked like a woebegone tramp. Obviously, he'd scavenged the garment from a rubbish heap.
'Of course he ambushed you. That's because McGuire is a real man with a big swinging d.i.c.k. Not like your shrivelled little schwanz.' Angelika forcefully ripped the piece of grey duct tape off of Reinhardt's chest, causing the driver to squeal like a little girl.
Eyes watering with tears, Reinhardt stared at the floor. Somewhere between losing the Mercedes and the clothes on his back, the big oaf had also lost his manly pride. If ever he had it.
Bunching the strip of tape into a tight ball, Angelika disgustedly tossed it into a nearby waste bin.
The driver wiped a meaty hand over his lip, swiping at a ribbon of snot. 'Aren't you going to call him?'
'Who? McGuire? Only if I need a good f.u.c.k.'
'But he said he would kill Herr Doktor Uhlemann if you didn't remand yourself to his custody!' Reinhardt doggedly insisted. 'Do you not care what happens to '
'I care.' More than you will ever know, p.u.s.s.y man.
Still in a murderous rage, Angelika strode over to the computer station at the reception desk and sat down. Like a lost puppy, Reinhardt followed after her.
'What are you doing?'
'I'm locating the Mercedes Benz,' she informed him, quickly typing in a secure pa.s.sword.
'But you have no idea where McGuire is hiding.'
'I will soon know exactly where he is hiding. The vehicle is outfitted with a GPS tracking device.'
The buffoon's mouth fell open in a slack-jawed 'O'. 'No one told me.'
Ignoring him, she pulled up the satellite data. Pere Lachaise Cemetery. With its many monuments and hilly terrain, it was the perfect hideaway. Clever, McGuire. Very clever.
Angelika spared the driver a quick glance. 'Of course there's a tracking device on the vehicle. Do you think we would trust you with such an expensive automobile otherwise?'
'Herr Doktor Uhlemann trusts me implicitly.'
'He trusts you to change the oil and clean up after Wolfgang when he s.h.i.ts on the pavement. That is all.'
'But I ... I am ... Herr Doktor's aide-de-camp,' the big oaf sputtered, a crestfallen expression on his face.
'You are the village idiot.' Grimacing, she put the back of her hand to her nose. 'And what is that stench? Go and find some disinfectant.' She dismissed the driver with a wave of the same hand.
Contemplating her next move, Angelika pulled up an aerial photograph of Pere Lachaise. For several seconds, she stared at the computer screen. Luckily, she had the element of surprise in her favour. That, and a full moon.
She smiled, actually looking forward to the upcoming battle with the American commando.
Soon, McGuire. Very soon.
63.
Pere Lachaise Cemetery, Paris 0245 hours Furious, Finn lowered the Mark 23 pistol, shoving it into his waistband. 'You better hope to G.o.d that your cohorts at the Seven Research Foundation meet my demand and turn over the Dark Angel.'
'G.o.d? That half-mad despot who demands constant ego-stroking?' Uhlemann mocked.
'Yeah, that G.o.d.'
'Not only are you brash, Sergeant McGuire, but you clearly have no idea what's at stake.'
'So, why don't you fill me in?' he taunted, hoping to pry loose a few answers.
'Very well.' Even in the dim light, Finn could see the calculating gleam in the other man's eyes. 'I take it that you know about the Lapis Exillis?'
'You mean the Grail?' Finn sauntered over to the sarcophagus. 'Yeah, big whup.' p.r.o.nouncement made, he plunked his a.s.s on the marble lid.
'While Finn may not be interested, I'm admittedly curious,' Kate remarked as she sat down beside him. 'We know that your father was a member of the SS Ahnenerbe and, as I understand it, they were actively hunting for the Lapis Exillis.'
'You are, if anything, well informed. Touche.' The derision in the German's voice countermanded the compliment. 'In the 1930s, my father, Friedrich Uhlemann, was teaching theoretical physics at Gottingen University. Something of a rebel, particularly given the anti-Jewish climate of the day, he was using Einstein's Theory of General Relativity to explore the effect of gravity and light on the s.p.a.cetime continuum.'
'That's an interesting research niche,' Kate conceded in a polite tone.
'Heinrich Himmler, the head of the SS, thought the same thing. Greatly impressed, he placed my father in an elite interdisciplinary think tank that came to be known as the Seven.'
'You make it sound like your old man won the n.o.bel Prize,' Finn harrumphed. 'h.e.l.l, he was just a jackbooted SS thug.'
'How dare you! My father was a brilliant scientist!'
'No doubt he was,' Kate readily agreed, quick to smooth the old rooster's feathers. 'I a.s.sume that Heinrich Himmler ordered the Seven to find the Lapis Exillis.'
Mollified, Uhlemann nodded curtly. 'Although Reichsfuhrer Himmler first ordered them to find out why the Egyptians built the Sacred Axis at Thebes. Determined to solve the ancient riddle, in 1938 the Seven set sail for Egypt.'
'But your father was a theoretical physicist ...' Kate paused. 'What could he possibly contribute to the project?'
'Really, my dear, you must learn to think outside the box. When Jean-Claude Jutier, the Seven's resident archaeologist, unearthed a hieroglyphic inscription regarding a sacred stone that emitted a "blue fire", it was my father who astutely realized that the inscription described an exothermic reaction involving a ma.s.sive energy transfer. Had it not been for my father, the Seven would never have uncovered the Lost Science of ancient Egypt.'
'I take it that the blue fire mentioned in the inscription was the Vril force.'
Uhlemann clapped his hands mockingly. 'My, my, aren't you the clever puss?'
Having hit his bulls.h.i.t quota, Finn rolled his eyes. 'So where the h.e.l.l are the mathematical calculations and scientific equations to back up this Lost Science? Did your old man find any of those carved on a temple wall? Wait! I think I know the answer ...' He paused. Snickered. Then said, 'There aren't any calculations or equations. Ergo, Ivo, there isn't a "Lost Science".'
The old German snorted disdainfully.
'Actually, Finn does raise a valid point.'
'Ah! Time for a history lesson.' Lips twisted in an ugly smile, Uhlemann folded his arms over his chest. 'Did you know that Albert Einstein first conceived his Theory of General Relativity in 1905?'
'Are you sure about that?' Kate's brow wrinkled. 'I could've sworn that Einstein came out with that theory in 1915.'
'1915 is when he first published his Theory of General Relativity. But the idea for it was here ' Uhlemann pointed to his white-haired noggin 'in his head ten years earlier in 1905. The problem was that in order to disseminate this revolutionary scientific theory to the world, Einstein had to first learn tensor calculus.'
'Okay, I'll bite,' Finn said, jumping back into the fray. 'What the h.e.l.l is tensor calculus?'
When Uhlemann made no reply, Kate said, 'Unlike the calculus that we learned in high school, which deals with change and motion in three-dimensional Euclidian s.p.a.ce, tensor calculus deals with the same problems of change and motion, but in a curved s.p.a.ce. In his Theory of General Relativity, Einstein stated that matter, or gravity, causes the s.p.a.cetime continuum to actually curve.' As the daughter of an astrophysicist, Kate had a clear advantage in the science department. 'The easiest way to think of it is to imagine a heavy bowling ball, which represents the Sun. If you put the bowling ball on a trampoline, which represents the s.p.a.cetime continuum, then '
'I get it,' Finn interjected. 'The bowling ball causes the trampoline to warp in the same way that matter creates a curve in the s.p.a.cetime continuum.'
Physics lesson concluded, the German continued the history lesson. 'In order for Einstein to scientifically explain what he had already conceived and perfectly understood in his mind, he had to spend ten years learning the mathematics that would enable him to publish his theory. The ancient Egyptians were no different. They had the science here.' Again, Uhlemann pointed to his head.
'And even if they had wanted to write down the equations, higher mathematics didn't exist in ancient Egypt,' Kate pointed out. 'Euclid didn't invent geometry until the third century BC and it wasn't until the tenth century that the Arab polymath Alhazan made the link between algebra and geometry. Which then enabled Newton to invent calculus in the seventeenth century.'
'How ironic that you should mention the great mathematician Alhazan. Did you know that Abu Ali Alhazan was a member of the Dar ul-Hikmat, the Egyptian House of Knowledge?'
A bewildered look on her face, Kate shook her head. 'Um, sorry, but I'm unfamiliar with that.'
'Forcing me to retract what I earlier said about you being well informed,' Uhlemann derided, proving, yet again, that he was a mean f.u.c.k. 'A prestigious university, the Egyptian House of Knowledge was founded in the eleventh century by the Fatamid Caliphate as a centre for Arabic scholarship. More importantly, it housed a magnificent library with a vast collection of ancient texts. As fate would have it, a disreputable Cairo antiquarian hoping to curry favour with the n.a.z.i high command gave the Seven one of the library's most valuable ma.n.u.scripts. Although scribed in the tenth century, it was based on ancient Egyptian texts that had been destroyed centuries before. To the Seven's delight, the Ghayat al-Hakim proved to be the missing link that they so desperately sought.'
Kate's eyes opened wide. 'Do you mean that the Ghayat al-Hakim contained a blueprint for the Sacred Axis at Thebes?'
'My dear, your powers of deduction are truly remarkable.'
'Can the sarcasm and answer the d.a.m.ned question,' Finn impatiently growled, ready to grab the old dude by his scrawny neck and hurl him across the mausoleum.
'In response to Doctor Bauer's very clever query, yes, the Ghayat al-Hakim, or "Goal of the Wise", was an instruction manual that detailed how the ancient Egyptians built their Vril Generator at Thebes using the Lapis Exillis.'
'Okay. Now how about fast-forwarding to the part where Himmler Meister tries to use the Vril force to build weapons of ma.s.s destruction.'
White brows drew together in an annoyed frown. 'The Seven was never involved in weapons research.'
Finn didn't buy that for one instant. 'If your old man wasn't interested in weaponizing the Vril force, what the h.e.l.l was he planning to do with it, make a big blue campfire?'
'If you must know, my father theorized that the blue light a.s.sociated with the Vril force could be used to create a closed time-like curve.'
'A CTC!' Like a snapped rubber band, Kate's head instantly whipped in Uhlemann's direction. 'Do you actually mean that the Seven wanted to generate the Vril force so they could time travel?'
64.
Pere Lachaise Cemetery, Paris 0321 hours 'You needn't look so shocked, Doctor Bauer. As you undoubtedly know, the existing laws of physics don't preclude time travel.'
Nonetheless, Kate was shocked. Within the physics community, time travel, or a closed time-like curve as it was commonly called, was a hotly debated topic. While many scientists believed it theoretically possible, none of them had successfully created a CTC.
She opened her mouth to reply; Finn beat her to it.
'Hey, Doctor Dufus! Get for real, will ya!'
Unperturbed, Ivo Uhlemann shrugged and said, 'Even the great one, Albert Einstein, claimed that time can be altered.'
'Yeah, I read H. G. Wells' The Time Machine, too,' Finn scoffed. 'But unlike some of us in the room, I knew it was a work of fiction.'
'Allow me to draw your attention to the mausoleum's funerary plaque.' Raising his arm, Dr Uhlemann pointed to the French inscription carved above the door. ' "For he who can wait, everything comes in time," ' he obligingly translated. 'Rabelais mistakenly a.s.sumed that time is not only linear, but that it moves in only one direction. Anyone who accepts that is a victim of out-dated Newtonian physics.'
'And you're being d.a.m.ned disrespectful to the guy who invented calculus. Not to mention gravity.'
'As a theoretical physicist, I have the greatest respect for Sir Isaac. But what was innovative thinking in the seventeenth century has subsequently been proved invalid. While possessed of a great mind, Newton wrongly believed that s.p.a.ce and time were not only separate, but absolute, conceptualizing time as an imaginary universal clock set in the heavens. Tick-tock, tick-tock. Always fixed. Never changing.' Dr Uhlemann paused before delivering the punchline. 'And, then, along came Einstein.'