6- Ghosts From The Past

OSLO, NORWAY, A FEW HOURS LATER

By this late hour of the night, it had been quite easy to sneak into the Norwegian capital's dark streets. The journey back to the hotel from the Svendsen villa had been relatively easy. Luckily, the nearest neighbours were quite far away from the Svendsen villa, or so it seemed to her. Lara had just had time to escape before the security guard woke up. A few blocks away, she had discarded her dark camouflage outfit in a bin, and hailed a taxi back to the hotel which was located somewhere at the other side of the town.

The room was not the most luxurious, but it would do very well for what she had to do and the time she would spend there. The continuous noise of the highway road, not far from there, was making a hell of a racket on that side of the building. No sooner had she got back than she rushed to her computer to check that the key was working. Luckily, the data she had managed to copy was still on it.

Settling as comfortably as possible on the small single bed, she spent the rest of the night studying every file, every article, every photo, every lab report in details. After a few hours, she realised the little notebook she always had with her was now covered with various notes, but above all with erasures.

The adventuress sat up and took a long pull. She was getting tired again. She put the computer aside and got off the bed, heading for the bathroom. She grabbed the ice pack that was waiting for her in the sink and placed it against her sore jaw. She winced.

Ouch

The pain went up her cheek and nose, but also to her ear and the back of her skull. The security guard's fist had left a rather large mark on her skin, which would probably only disappear in a few days. Lara looked up and met her own eyes in the small mirror hanging over the sink. She looked at her tired, swollen face and sighed in annoyance.

She could hardly get the horrors she had just discovered out of her head. As she had suspected, the Svendsens had concealed a great deal about the experiments they conducted in their labs. Mark was right. Experiments and projects had been carried out in the greatest secrecy on human genetics, on certain physical abilities of humans. Among the documents on the USB stick were many photographs and reports detailing what they had done to some of their guinea pigs. Animals, men, pregnant women, but also some children. Some photos were unbearable, and beyond the real and the possible. They had used the worst techniques and the worst products to carry out their experiments. But it was much more than simple manipulation, contrary to what they had made the media believe. The reports of the experiments, which luckily were mostly in English, and some of the autopsy reports, said that it was purely and simply mutilation, amputation, torture of the worst kind. Genetic modifications of all kinds, physical resistance tests, which had been going on for decades.

For it had started long before Tobias and Miranda took over the company. Some of the photos and documents were dated, which allowed Lara to go back in time almost 60 years.

During the Second World War

She was not an expert on the subject, but she knew that a number of secret missions had been carried out by the Nazi party, even before they came to power in 1933. They had already been working for about ten years on crazy theories about the superior human race. And unfortunately, there were still traces and testimonies of this extremely dark period of History. Camps, remnants of dismal clandestine laboratories, where thousands of people had lost their lives in atrocious conditions. A shiver ran through the Englishwoman from head to toe, as she couldn't help but make the connection with what Mark had mentioned at the gala the night before. One strange thing, however, she had not found any trace of, or direct reference to Otto Svendsen. Apart from the photo she had found in Miranda's office, his name was not mentioned anywhere. A few infamous names occasionally came up in the reports she had found, such as Bickenbach or Mengele. But the more she thought about it, the more it became clear to her that Otto Svendsen was clearly involved in the whole thing. She didn't rule out the fact that Svendsen had worked as a technician in some of the clandestine labs, if he hadn't been himself the head of some of the projects. And it was clear that Tobias and Miranda Svendsen had taken over and continued the experiments the Nazis had started in Europe in the 1940s.

But the question is: why?

A terrible cramp suddenly burned her lower abdomen. The pain was so sudden and powerful that the young woman found herself bent double, slightly breathless. She let out a small cry of pain. Her belly continued to burn brightly for a few moments, as if it was tearing itself up from the inside, before everything suddenly calmed down, and subsided as quickly as it had appeared.

Bloody hell

Lara leaned against the sink for a moment, her eyes looking down. She slowly caught her breath, and, seeing that the pain had passed, she finally stood up.

He hit me even more badly than I thought

She finally turned away from the mirror and the bathroom and returned to her computer. She slowly sat down on the bed, and took another deep breath, still feeling a kind of pain in the abdomen. She refocus on the screen and clicked to close the image that was displayed on the screen. Lara returned to the main menu of the USB stick. She clicked on the last folder she had not yet opened. Her heart sank when she discovered that it was almost empty. As she had feared, not all the data had been copied.

The folder "ARG026", which she had vaguely seen in the villa, contained only two files. A simple building plan, without a precise address, and what looked like a scanned note page. On the latter, there was a sort of simplified diagram. A few names of elements, such as Potassium, Iron, Sulfur, but also annotations in Latin, drew her attention. In one corner of the sheet were written the words "Prima Materia". The whole thing looked vaguely like a diagram, but the image was of poor quality.

A formula?

The young woman searched her memory, but those words did not ring a bell. Of course, she knew the names of the chemical elements, but she couldn't find the link with this "Prima Materia" thing. She would definitely have to do more research on the subject. A little further down, her eyes fell on a paragraph of several lines, also written in Latin.

"Et factum est proelium in caelo Michahel et angeli eius proeliabantur cum dracone draco pugnabat et angeli eius et fortiores erant, et qui in caelis est. Proiectus est draco ille magnus serpens antiquus qui vocatur Diabolus et Satanas qui seducit universum orbem. Proiectus est in terram et angeli eius cum illo missi sunt."

The writing was extremely small and tight, and Lara found it difficult to decipher the text at first, but when she recognised the first words, she had no trouble understanding the rest:

"Then war broke out in heaven: Michael and his angels fought with the dragon; and the dragon and his angels fought, but stronger they were not, and no place they found in Heaven. The great dragon was thrown down, the old serpent, he who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world. He was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him."

An extract from The Apocalypse

Ideas were beginning to get seriously mixed up in her head. She rubbed her temple absently, her eyebrows still furrowed in concentration. She couldn't make the connection between all the information she had at her disposal. There was a piece of the puzzle missing somewhere. And unfortunately, it was very likely that the answer was in the files she had not been able to retrieve.

After another sigh, she decided to put the computer aside to take a break. She stood up and started pacing back and forth in the small room.

OK. So Otto Svendsen worked with the Nazis on clandestine experiments during the Second World War. Experiments that were undoubtedly shelved at the end of the war and then resumed years later in new clandestine labs. He built his business empire in parallel, before his grandson took over the company and the projects he had started. From what the USB key contains, and what Mark implied, the experiments have resumed and are probably still going on

She suddenly stopped in front of the window, hands on her hips. She took her mobile phone out of her pocket and glanced at it. There were no new message notifications, or calls. She then brought up the photo she had found in Miranda's office again, and looked again at the three people in it, before moving on to the next photo. She looked again at the pencil letters.

Puerto Deseado, Sta Cruz

She had heard that name before.

Argentina

At the end of the war, a considerable number of Nazis had fled to escape their trials, or the reprisals that threatened them. An important exfiltration network had been set up from Europe to South America, and they went into exile in Brazil, Mexico, Colombia and Argentina.

The whole thing was taking a strange turn. But once again, her instincts told her that she could not stop there. Something was waking up. An invisible danger was rumbling, she was now convinced. And from what she had discovered so far, there was nothing good behind what the Svendsens were planning, whatever it was. She felt that the darkness was returning and advancing on the world again.

She knew where she was going, but she didn't know what was in store for her, or what she would discover next. But she had to know why Kurtis was involved in all this.

—

He walked a little faster. Surrounded by a few henchmen, he mindlessly followed the long underground corridor that went deeper and deeper into the base. Neon lights framed by thick grates diffused a strange yellowish light at regular intervals high above his head. The ambient humidity ran down the walls, leaving large dark streaks. They had been here for several days already, but the air was still as cold as ever.

Or rather ice cold

He felt a movement in his pocket. His phone was vibrating. He reached into his trousers to pull it out and stared for a moment at the calling number. He frowned, concerned and finally answered.

"Got it. Thanks for letting me know," he replied coldly when the caller had finished speaking.

He hung up abruptly. A few feet away, he saw the figures of Miranda and Saija, who were standing in the corridor, probably having a conversation about the current experiments. Next to them, a stretcher was parked against the wall. The two women turned around and looked at him as they heard him approach.

"We've been away for only two days and we've already got some fucking trouble..."

Miranda stared at him with her big black eyes.

"What happened?" the woman asked, also worried now.

Tobias shook his head, clearly annoyed.

"We had a visitor at the villa."

"A break-in?"

Tobias ran a nervous hand through the strands of hair that were bothering him.

"They don't really know. The alarm went off for nearly fifteen minutes, but from what I've been told, nothing has been stolen."

In the darkness of the long corridor, he saw his wife's surprised look.

"Did they check everything?"

"Apparently so," Tobias answered at his wife's insistent look. "The security guard was knocked out by someone. But there's no sign of a break-in."

Miranda shook her head, but her mind was obviously elsewhere. She lowered her gaze, her lips pursed tightly.

"I've taken precautions, if that's what you're asking. No one knows we're here."

The half-breed raised her head sharply and looked him straight in the eye.

Have they checked the CCTV system?

They're working on it. They'll keep up to date as soon as they've got news, Tobias answered mentally.

Just make sure all the documents are safe

Silence fell between them. Saija, who had remained slightly behind, watched them in turn, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What do we do now?" the young woman asked.

Miranda and Tobias stayed quiet and stood impassively in front of her. As if she had not heard the young woman's question, Miranda finally turned to the henchmen who were accompanying Tobias.

"Let's get this out of the way first."

With her chin, she pointed to the large black bag that was lying on the stretcher beside them. The men started to move, and took the stretcher away without saying a word.

"There are a few adjustments to be made," the woman said when they had moved away. "The glove is much more powerful than I thought, which makes it more difficult to use. The tests are not really conclusive at the moment, it's a real mess."

"But the American is here to help us, right?" Saija suddenly intervened, her large, clear eyes sparkling in the darkness. "I thought he knew how to use it..."

"Maybe, but we're far from having won his loyalty and trust," Miranda replied coldly. "I don't trust him or his powers."

"Don't worry, we'll manage to win him over. Right, Saija?" Tobias said as he moved closer to his wife and put a hand around her waist.

"I'll work on it personally," the hostess replied with an weird smile.

"This is not a game, Saija. This man is really powerful, so you'd better stay on your guard too."

"You should know I'm more than just a pretty face, Miranda, I know exactly how to play."

Saija crossed her arms against herself again and raised her chin defiantly, as if to silently challenge the Norwegian woman.

"I know what is at stake here. I'll be watching him closely, don't worry," Saija responded, sounding almost angry now.

A strange grin froze on the hostess' lips, and she suddenly turned on her heels. Miranda and Tobias watched her in silence as she disappeared further down the corridor.

"He doesn't have much choice, anyway," Tobias finally said.

Are you sure no one followed him? Or that no one will go looking for him?

"Our men did well, you just have to trust them, Miranda. He obviously has no family, and I guess no one knows he's here too."

He was talking to a woman on the phone the other day

Tobias shrugged.

"And?"

Miranda shook her head angrily.

Why do I have to keep telling you that I don't want any trouble?

"I guess that given his kind of… activities, she won't be surprised if he disappears for a while. I mean, that's what happens sometimes with mercenaries. They just go away. Hopefully she may not ask question and stay quiet, at least for a while."

Miranda nodded slowly, still thinking.

"What about the samples?" she asked.

"Accidents, mysterious disappearances, suicides... we've made it all up to make people think they are isolated cases. Some families ask more questions than others, of course, but I have managed to find a compromise that could satisfy them and compensate them amply. But for the moment, all the disappearances have gone relatively unnoticed. Accidents happen, as they say."

"Good. And when is the next shipment due?"

"In about three days. I'm just waiting for Javier's confirmation."

They exchanged a steady look.

Great. It means that I can keep on doing tests on the ones who are still alive

"Indeed. You can try again and again," Tobias whispered in his wife's ear. "As many times as you want."

—

PUERTO DESEADO, ARGENTINA, THE DAY AFTER

The small bus, literally packed with people, entered the small town in the early morning. It circled the main square and stopped along the road with an ominous braking noise. The few locals travelling with her, some of them with goats or other pigs, got off little by little, but it was still several minutes before she could get off too.

Puerto Deseado was a charming little town lost in the deep south of Argentina, in one of the most deserted regions of the continent. Contrary to the clichés, the climate in this part of Argentina was relatively dry and cool, subject to the winds and currents coming from Antarctica, which gave the landscape such a desert-like appearance. The sun shone coldly overhead, and the air smelled of sea water. Hiding behind her sunglasses, she turned her head to one side, then the other, before heading to the first street in front of her.

Map in hand, she crossed the large central square and headed for the small, cramped and colourful alleys. After several hundred metres, she stopped in front of a red-fronted building, whose exterior sign announced guest rooms. She pushed open the big wooden door and found a small entrance, or rather a corridor, with colourful walls and slightly retro picture frames. Pictures of the city, the port, and some family and local people photos obviously. One of them, all in black and white colors, was bigger than the others, and represented a smiling man with his son. A big wooden staircase was facing her a few meters away. The sound of a TV was crackling somewhere in a nearby room. To her left was an elegant patio with walls covered in colourful tiles. There were also old rattan seats and large plants.

"¿Hola?"

Suddenly someone appeared before her, coming out of one of the rooms on the right. A man, about eighty years old, looked at her from head to toe with a suspicious look in his small black almond eyes. His large white moustache partially hid his lips and mouth. His tanned skin was marked by wrinkles and the sun. Even if he was way older, she immediately recognized the man she had noticed on the photo.

"Hello. Excuse me, I didn't hear anything because of that damn TV. I keep telling Maria Rosa that the sound is much too loud, it always gives me headaches. But she's deaf as hell..."

Lara smiled sympathetically.

"Sorry, I don't want to bother you with my stories. You're probably looking for a place to sleep. I mean, I guess you are?"

"I would need a room for a few nights, indeed."

The man nodded briskly and disappeared for a moment into the room he had just left. He went back with a small key and handed it to the young woman.

"Room 5. You can't go wrong, there's only one floor," he said, pointing to the stairs behind him. "Come with me, I'll accompany you."

Lara didn't have time to protest as the man was already turning around and heading for the stairs. She followed him without a word, touched by his hospitality.

"For breakfast, don't forget to ask us, my wife and I prepare everything on demand," he said over his shoulder as they reached the upper floor of the house.

They entered an L-shaped hallway that overlooked the patio, before stopping at a blue wooden door. The man slid the key into the lock and opened the door for her.

"Here we go," he said, inviting her in.

"It's perfect, thank you" said the young woman as she discovered the cosy little room.

"Have you been here before?" asked the man, who seemed eager to make conversation.

"I've been to Latin America many times, but never to this side of Argentina. This is my first time."

"Let me guess, you're English or American, right?"

Lara couldn't hold back a smirk at the old man's amused expression.

Here we go again...

"Yes, I am. I was betrayed by my accent, wasn't I?"

The man couldn't help but laugh at the ironic tone the young woman had taken. He gave her a sympathetic smile.

"My name is Lara," said the young woman, holding out her hand to the man.

"English, then," he teased with a charming smile.

He moved his own hand towards hers to shake it. He then winked at her.

"I'm Diego. Don't be embarrassed, we're used to tourists, although there aren't many at this time of year. What are you doing here?"

Lara flexed her hand and made a quick tour of the room and put her bag on the bed. Not knowing how to behave at first, she began to take her things out of her bag, looking down.

"To tell the truth, I'm looking for information," she said uncertainly.

Her eyes rose and met those of the old man. He was still, and his smile had faded slightly. He looked at her with his small, piercing eyes, waiting for the next step. She saw him watch the mark the security guard's fist had left on her cheek the day before, and he slightly frowned. She looked away, a little bit ashamed. After a short moment of hesitation, she thought she had to take advantage of this man's curiosity, and give it a try. She knew she had nothing to lose anyway. If the technique of playing fair had worked with a former legionnaire in Montsegur, it might work with this old man. He was obviously a local inhabitant of the town, she had to give it a try. She grabbed her mobile and decided to show the photo she had found in Miranda's office. At first surprised, Diego frowned as his eyes fell on the laptop screen. He moved a little closer, intrigued, but remained silent.

Lara felt her heartbeat quicken as she saw a glint in the old man's eye. She had been right. She knew at once that he had recognised at least one of the people in the photo.

"Who gave you this picture?"

Lara shook her head slightly. The expression on the man's face was changing. He was thinking.

Bingo

"A friend of mine found it when he was moving house. His grandfather had kept it in a box with other miscellaneous documents, all of them gathering dust in the attic."

She was a little ashamed of having lied to him, but it was the only idea that had come to her mind to make her story of seeking information stick. She preferred to avoid mentioning the previous evening's undercover operation she had undergone at the other side of the world. The jetlag effects were beginning to seriously hammer her head by the way.

"Are you looking for these people?" The man finally asked, still surprised.

"Sort of. Actually I don't know exactly, I'm looking for information about those people, or about their activities."

"I'm not sure I can help you," the man answered abruptly as he was about to turn his back and leave the room.

"It's not what you think, I have nothing to do with them," Lara protested, suddenly taken aback by the man's attitude.

Diego stopped in the doorway and turned around. He threatened her with a finger.

"The people of this town are honest ones, we don't need people like you here to stir up the past, especially on such sensitive matters. I shall ask you to take your things and leave, Miss," the old man said coldly, his gaze now threatening.

Lara shook her head sharply, surprised by his reaction. She walked towards him and pointed to the picture on her phone.

"I'm looking for people who are connected, or have been connected, to the people you see in this picture. I think they've kidnapped someone..."

Time seemed to stand still between them as they stood facing each other, the man with his hands on his hips, and Lara with her phone held up in front of her. She tried to reassure him with her eyes. It was obvious he knew something.

"Who has been kidnapped?" the man asked, suspicious.

"Someone..." Lara answered slowly in a hesitant voice. "Someone I really care about."

Diego remained impassive for a moment, continuing to observe her with his piercing black eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed.

"Your fiancé?"

"My husband, yes," she answered without thinking.

She felt the red rise to her cheeks, and was absolutely unable to control it. The word had had a strange resonance in her, and although, once again, she hadn't quite told the truth, she felt strangely much more comfortable about this kind of lie.

Stop that, you sound like a fifteen year old

She shook her head to put her thoughts back in place and refocus on the photo.

"People who are related to the people in this picture have taken him. I'm just trying to find out where they might have taken him, and what they did to him. Do you have any information about these people? Do you know them?"

The man shook his head, almost annoyed by the young woman's insistence.

"If it's what I think it is, I'm sorry to say it's very likely your husband is dead."

Lara felt the walls closing in on her and suffocating her. A rush of stress came over her.

"What do you mean?" she asked abruptly, trying to push that possibility into an entrenched corner of her mind.

"You don't look like a fool, Miss. Far from it, in fact. I assume you're not so uneducated as to not recognize the badge on those uniforms. Everyone who has ever come close to these people, near or far, has ended up very badly. In Europe or here."

"You knew some of these people, didn't you?" Lara replied coldly, her stress level not coming down.

Her big brown eyes looked into the man's and did not let go.

"If they killed him, I think I have a right to know, don't you think?"

Diego looked away, embarrassed. He let out a long sigh and rubbed the back of his neck absently. He was thinking. Lara let the arm holding the mobile phone fall back, distraught.

"You know them, don't you?" she repeated in a softer, calmer voice.

"How can I not recognize them?"

Lara gave him a questioning look. The man finally looked up at her. He pointed to the mobile phone that was still in her hand.

"I don't know who is the man on the right, but the one in the middle is unfortunately not a stranger."

"Do you know Otto Svendsen?"

"Svendsen? Bickenbach, you mean?"

Lara looked at him without understanding. She saw Diego frowning again, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. She glanced at the photo, suddenly unsettled.

"Svendsen is not his real name?"

"As far as I know, it's not," replied the old man, as he shook his head slightly. "I imagine he changed it when he went into exile. But one thing is certain, the man in the middle is Dr Otto Bickenbach. Many people here will be able to confirm it, unfortunately. At least those who are still alive. Like many other Nazi names, he is infamous. Don't you have ever heard of him?"

"Yes, I know his name, of course..." Lara stammered.

But at no time did she imagine that one of the worst Nazi doctors in history could have reappeared in this way, decades after the end of the war. She wondered how he could have lived in such a way in the public eye without ever being recognised, or without ever being bothered. And unfortunately, the mystery would remain now that he was definitely dead and buried.

She turned her gaze to the side, annoyed by her own inattention. So Tobias Svendsen was a direct descendant of Otto Bickenbach. This confirmed his connection to the Nazis, and the possibility that he wished to carry on his grandfather's plans. And as she feared, things had obviously happened here in Argentina.

Kurtis could be somewhere here

"As for the woman, I don't know if she can be of much help to you unfortunately..."

"Do you know her too?" asked Lara, suddenly out of her thoughts.

"She's a fairly well-known local figure, yes. Her family is one of the oldest and most respected in the city, one that passes on its land and inheritance from generation to generation."

Diego fell silent suddenly, as if he was thinking about something. His face was serious.

"Valentina was Bickenbach's assistant."

A flame of hope lit up in Lara's eyes. Sensing what was going on in the old man's head, she tried her luck.

"Would you be willing to tell me where I can find her?"

He took a deep breath, this time looking up at the ceiling.

"Yes. However, I don't know if she'll really be able to answer your questions."

"Is she dead?"

The old man shook his head sharply.

"No, no, she's still alive. Although, no longer in a good shape. A bit like me..."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Lara smiled gently at him. She saw a bitter smile playing at the corner of the old man's lips.

"... she's in the hospital's psychiatric clinic, here, in Puerto Deseado."

The man turned his head and looked at Lara straight in the eye. He seemed to observe her again without a word, as if he was trying to challenge her. As if he was looking for a loophole. Yet it all made sense, and Lara knew it. She had been honest with him. She had put her finger on something, and there was no turning back. There was a trail to follow here.

Diego suddenly looked down at his watch.

"If we leave now, we should arrive before visiting hours end."

Before she had time to open her mouth, the old man had turned and stomped out of the room. Lara had just enough time to grab her backpack, and ran after him to follow him.

—

They didn't say a word the whole way to the waterfront of Puerto Deseado, just a few kilometres away. Lara watched the streets outside carefully, lulled by the purring engine of the old Chevrolet in which they were sitting. The worn leather steering wheel creaked as, after only a few minutes, Diego manoeuvred the old car to finally park in front of a decrepit old building overlooking the ocean. They got out and Lara followed the old man to the large iron gate that marked the entrance to the hospital.

To the Englishwoman's surprise, they entered a relatively modern and new building, which smelled strongly of fresh paint. They walked into the large hall and spent a few minutes at the counter, checking in. Lara let Diego converse in Spanish with a few nurses who seemed to know him well. The young woman and the old man were then escorted by a nurse to a slightly more dilapidated annex far from the main building. They passed through a heavy double door, and the constant bustle and noise of the emergency and resuscitation departments suddenly fell silent. A strange, almost suffocating silence fell around them.

The nurse led them to the upper floors of the building. After crossing one last corridor, the young woman stopped in front of a door and led them into a room. There was not much furniture, just a single bed, a wardrobe and a large armchair, in which an old woman was sitting. Not far from her, an old transistor from the 1950s was literally blaring out all sorts of messages in Spanish. The nurse came forward to turn down the radio at first, then leaned over to the lady to whisper a few words. The lady did not seem to react, however. The nurse returned to Lara and Diego, before leaving the room in silence.

A little hesitantly, Lara let Diego take the lead and move towards the woman. They walked around the bed and approached her slowly. Diego leaned towards her, one hand resting on the armrest. He spoke a few words in Spanish, no doubt to greet her, but she did not seem to react. She remained motionless, her eyes fixed on the bay window which offered a breathtaking view of the ocean.

After a few minutes without anything happening, Diego finally beckoned Lara to come a little closer. The Englishwoman greeted the lady with a big smile. She noticed her hair elegantly slicked back and her fine features. She also noticed her large dark blue eyes, almost the colour of the ocean. Her slender body was hidden under clothes that were much too big for her.

"Good afternoon, Valentina," Lara simply said, not knowing exactly where to start.

There was no reply. The old woman remained frozen and silent in her chair, her eyes lost in the distance. The adventuress turned her gaze to Diego in questioning.

"Her disability developed very early. She developed a very severe form of Alzheimer's, which destroyed a good part of her mental and motor capacities in a few years. It happened very quickly, and there was not much the doctors could do."

"How long has she been here?"

Diego shook his head.

"Twenty five years, maybe thirty now."

Lara nodded, feeling sorry for the woman. The old man turned back to his friend.

"We are sorry to come and disturb you Valentina, I know you are very tired, but this young lady needs your light. She has some questions to ask you."

Lara leaned forward with her hands on her knees.

"My name is Lara, I'm from England."

Diego translated what she said into Spanish.

"José brought in a whole shipment of tuna this morning," the woman replied in a gruff voice. "I went to the market early, but he had none left. It's all been sold."

The old woman's abrupt tone took the aventuress by surprise. Her voice was distant, almost robotic, in complete contrast to her elegant appearance despite her illness. Lara suddenly realised that it would be much more complicated than expected to obtain information under these conditions. But she didn't let it faze her. She took a moment to think, searching for the right words, and the easiest way to get the woman to answer her questions.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

Her eyes scanned the old woman's inexpressive face. She glanced quickly at Diego beside her.

"The doctors say that her mind is stuck somewhere in the days before the disease," the old man whispered softly. "She often repeats the same phrases over and over again..."

"The Tabacco is closed now, I have to go to the grocery shop."

Lara swallowed before resuming, trying not to be thrown off by the old woman's very hostile and completely closed attitude.

"I'm looking for my… my husband, who disappeared a few weeks ago now. I think he was kidnapped by people from Otto Bickenbach's family."

"Tell Maria Rosa to come and see me," said the old lady, addressing Diego, and completely ignoring the Englishman next to her.

The old man nodded with a pained smile, but as reassuring as possible. With a nod of his head he invited Lara to continue asking her questions.

"Diego told me that you worked with Otto Bickenbach a long time ago. You were his assistant, weren't you?"

"It's no use, they're out of bread at the grocery shop."

Between the two women, Diego continued to murmur in Spanish. Lara decided to take out her phone and show the woman the photo she had found at the Svendsen's house. She crouched down and handed her the camera.

"You worked in one of the laboratories, am I right? You worked on several different projects with the doctor?"

"The Tabacco is closed, I have to go to the grocery shop."

Lara felt helpless in front of this seemingly impassable wall. She was good at breaking down stone walls and solving puzzles, but she realised she was a poor negotiator. She cleared her throat, trying to keep her composure.

"It seems that his grandson, Tobias Svendsen, has continued to work on some projects in Europe. Could you tell me what those projects were about at the time?"

This time the woman did not answer. Her eyes seemed to be lost in the void. She seemed to have fallen back into the meanderings of her mind.

"What was the purpose of these experiments, Valentina?" Lara asked in a soft voice, bringing her phone closer to the old woman.

Valentina's eyes finally looked down at the phone, though without a trace of any kind of feeling. There was a long silence, during which nothing happened. Long seconds passed, during which the adventuress held her breath and crossed her fingers inwardly that something would happen to the woman. But the reaction she hoped for did not come.

"I need your help," Lara said softly. "What have they done to all these people? What were they hiding in those laboratories? What was the purpose of these experiments?"

The old woman finally looked down, ignoring the young woman and her questions again. Diego shook his head gently.

"I don't think she will answer you."

The Englishwoman opened her mouth to reply, but stopped at the serious expression and the insistent gaze of the old man. She sighed and ran a hand over her tired face. Some of the answers were there, and she felt deeply angry to know that she had no way of accessing them. Reluctantly, she straightened up and put her phone back in her pocket.

"We'll leave you alone, my dear Valentina. Maria Rosa will be visiting you soon. Rest well."

The old man put a friendly hand on the woman's arm. After a last smile, he turned around and headed for the door.

"Are you sure there's nothing you can do?" Lara asked, desperate to feel the trail slipping through her fingers.

Diego stopped and waved his hand at Valentina.

"Look at her..."

Lara didn't have to turn her head to see what the old man was getting at.

"The illness is taking up too much space now..." the man murmured. "Valentina has been through some terrible things, things that are certainly better left untold. As I told you earlier, some things are better left where they are sometimes..."

The adventuress and the old man looked each other in the eye for a moment, he already on the doorstep, ready to leave, unconsciously replaying the scene in the hotel room. No matter how much she thought about the problem, she could not see any solution. Without Valentina's memory, she could go no further. Lara shook her head in annoyance. She in turn headed for the door to leave the room.

"The Devil's Hand."

The old lady's voice made them both jump. They turned around in the same movement.

"What did you say, Valentina?"

"It's all his fault."

Lara and Diego looked at each other again, puzzled. They turned to the woman, who had returned to her silence, her gaze still lost in the void.

"It's that man's fault," she murmured.

Lara and Diego slowly came back to her.

"What are you talking about, Valentina? What man?"

But the woman seemed lost in her own world.

"It's because of him that she didn't come back," she continued in a bitter voice.

Lara turned to her companion, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows furrowed.

"Diego, do you know who she's talking about?"

The man shook his head.

"I imagine she's talking about Kristina, her daughter. She was a surgical nurse at the hospital. A really brilliant student..."

"The Devil's Hand," the old woman repeated in a deep voice.

"... she had a serious plane crash in the late 1980s, which left her completely disfigured," Diego continued to explain. "She went to Europe for treatment, but never came back..."

"It's all his fault," the woman repeated.

"And about the Devil's Hand, does that refer to something you know?" asked the adventuress, who was getting seriously agitated.

"No, it doesn't, sorry."

The old woman, who had not moved since their arrival, suddenly raised her arm and plunged her hand into one of her shirt's pockets. She pulled out an old photo folded over itself. Carefully, she unfolded it with her hooked fingers. Over the old woman's shoulder, the adventuress' gaze fell on the picture she held firmly between her fingers: the portrait of two women, no doubt a mother, who was lovingly embracing her daughter. The younger woman, all dressed up in a white nurse's outfit, was smiling warmly at the camera and proudly holding up the diploma she had just obtained.

Her name, written in elegant calligraphy, sat in the centre of the paper. The photo was very worn, and the writing was quite small, but Lara seemed to make out something. A four-letter family name.

The rush of stress that rose inside her at that moment was so powerful that she felt her vision blur and all her limbs stiffen in her own body. Everything suddenly seemed to fall apart around her.

"Are you all right?" Diego asked, suddenly worried when he saw the defeated face of the Englishwoman.

Lara just shook her head, unable to say a word. The more she looked at the photo, the more the truth became clear to her. The woman in the photo, although very young at the time, was the spitting image of the adult she had been before dying three years ago. Lara had not known her strictly speaking, she had only seen her for a few moments. And Kurtis had spoken a very little about her. But she immediately recognised those big clear eyes, that fringe and those black hair, which even then were cut in a very short bob.

Lara looked up at Diego.

"Diego, could you please tell me what is Valentina's last name?"

The old man frowned too, intrigued by the Englishwoman's question.

"Her exact name is Valentina Gimenez Boaz, why?"

Lara was so shocked she didn't even feel her own blood freeze in her veins.

"For nothing," she answered, but her voice was only a whisper.