Free The Lucifer Sanction by Jason Denaro Page A

there.”
The driver sniggered, hunched his shoulders then
whispered as though sharing a secret. “It tends to dissuade
sightseers, and provides an added advantage of free
security.”
Blake caught the driver’s eyes in the rear view
mirror. He nudged Dal and said, “Must make for fun
weekends, huh?”
“Yes, the soldiers leave us in peace on weekends.
That is when we see some tourists – only on the weekends.
Not during the weekdays, that is when we have it to
ourselves, when we test our...”
He paused, cognizant of overstepping his mark.
Blake caught Dal’s look of ‘ what the fuck’ but kept
his eyes locked on the rear view mirror where the driver’s
apprehensive look still hung.
Silence.
Blake pressed. “You were saying you test, eh –
what exactly?”
The driver ignored the question.
Blake pressed a little more. “On weekdays, Arno –
you test what?”
“Best you wait to have that question answered.
We will arrive at Andermatt shortly, enjoy the flight. Your
transportation is just ahead.”
A baggage cart pulling a chopper on a trailer
emerged from a hangar. Within minutes the rotor began its
familiar whop, whop, whop gyrations. Two minutes after
climbing aboard and at one thousand feet, all three were
gazing down at the Zurich traffic.
Minutes later Bell shouted at the pilot and pointed
to a ski resort to their right. “That’s a ski lift, are we nearly
there?”
“Yes, it is the cable car at Gemsstock. We will set
down in a few minutes.”
“Haven’t been on snow since Big Bear,” Dal
shouted, “It looks promising!”
It took the pilot a few minutes to negotiate a landing
between steep mountainous slopes. The chopper blades
stirred the powdery snow, causing an opaque cloud of
white to engulf them. A building constructed of aluminum
or perhaps titanium came into view as though materializing
from another world.
A white suited man ran to greet them, squinted and
turned his face away briefly as the down-thrust from the
chopper shot fresh snow about the landing area. He held
one arm across his face to shield his eyes. The chopper
pilot leaned across, patted Blake’s knee, and jabbed a
finger toward the man who was momentarily obscured by
a fresh flurry. The rotor continued whirling as Bell, Blake
and Dal were assisted from the cabin, kept their heads low
and made the eighty yard dash toward the building. Dal
turned to Blake as they ran and made a shrugging gesture.
Blake ignored it.
Bell caught the gesture and called aloud, “What’s
going on?”
Blake considered his response for a few moments,
couldn’t come up with an answer, and spouted out, “Just
roll with the blows, okay.”
“Welcome to Libra,” the white suited man said
with a half-bow. “Your luggage will arrive shortly, please
follow me; we have private suites for our guests. There is
appropriate clothing laid out for each of you. Please shower,
relax. I am sure you are not only wet but also very cold. We
will send for you in an hour or so.”
Ninety minutes later Dal sat in a small dining area,
stared into his cup and sighed, “Ah – hot chocolate.”
Bell stroked her cup, placed it against her cheek,
felt the warmth and ran her tongue around the edge, playing
with the foam on top. Dal groaned, pretended to ignore
her sexuality. She persisted in taunting him by pouting
her lips and sensually blowing into the cup. “Welcome to
Switzerland,” she said, holding his stare. “Have to tell you,
Dallas - that shower was sooo good.”
A woman in a white smock appeared from a door
marked Staff Only. Blake pulled himself away from his
chocolate fondue, carefully manipulated a small smear
with his finger, endured Bell’s disapproval as he sucked
the finger clean, and walked toward the woman. He wiped
the finger across his sleeve and thanked her for the fresh
strawberries and chocolate.
“Sorry,” Blake shrugged. “Just so darned good I
didn’t wanna waste a bit.”
Her tone was