by M. B. Lewis
“You know,” Mac said, “Curt didn’t get on the airplane with everyone else.”
“I know, but he was checked out of the hotel.”
Mac nodded. “And now your friend Isaac turns up murdered. Heck of a coincidence.”
“Yeah, heck of a coincidence. The guy in Egypt turned up murdered when Kadie waited for Curt to show up for dinner.”
“Heck of a coincidence.”
Duke watched the A-330 disappear in the distance, then picked up his bag. “Let’s get some rest,” he said. “We’ve got an early morning takeoff.” Mac patted him on the back with a smile, and the two friends walked through the hangar to find a waiting cab. On the ride to the hotel, Duke had a hard time staying awake. He wrestled through his weariness to come up with a plan on how to handle the situation. How was almost a joke. He wasn’t even sure what he was up against. But whatever it was, it was deadly.
He needed to get to Istanbul and warn Kadie as soon as possible. GDI was not what they appeared to be.
28
Istanbul, Turkey
Grand Tarabya Hotel
* * *
Kadie and Brian checked into their room at the Grand Tarabya Hotel in northeast Istanbul on the edge of the Bosphorus Strait. Numerous ships and boats traveled along the waterway every day, which made Brian happy at first, at least until he discovered the extra-large flat-screen television. The five-star accommodations didn’t go unnoticed by Kadie either; she napped for a couple of hours on the most comfortable bed she’d been on in years. As the sun perched high in the sky, she woke up hungry.
“Hey, kiddo. How about we go downstairs for something to eat?”
“O—kay,” Brian said. “When is Duke—coming?”
She bit her lower lip and cast Brian a doubtful look. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if he’s coming here at all.”
“Curt does not like—Duke. He is afraid—of him.”
Her eyebrows raised as she turned to him. It was an interesting comment from an intuitive young man. She smiled at her brother and ruffled his hair with her fingers. “I know. I’ve seen it, too.”
They marched downstairs to The Brasserie Restaurant for the open buffet and found Curt guarding the door. He wasn’t actually standing guard—he sat alone at a table near the entrance of the restaurant, sipping coffee, his eyes tracking everyone who entered. When Kadie walked in, he grew elated.
“Kadie, it’s so good to see you,” Curt said as he stood.
“And this is Brian,” she said, angry that once again, he didn’t acknowledge her brother.
“Oh, yeah. Good to see you too, Brian.”
Her brother looked away, aware of Curt’s insincerity. He had mentioned it before. Now it was all too clear.
“Doctor Hastings called. You need to meet her at the museum. She’s eager to talk to you.”
“I talk to her every day.”
“She wants to talk to you in person. Now.”
“We’re going to eat breakfast first,” Kadie said.
“Breakfast can wait. Doctor Hastings wants to see you now. And you need to be wearing this.” Curt handed her a hijab.
She wanted to argue, but it was pointless. The culture war would not be won in a hotel restaurant in Istanbul. Taking the garment from Curt, she wrapped the symbol of Islamic oppression around her head.
Kadie sighed, her shoulders sagged. She steered Brian toward the door.
“He can stay here,” Curt said, referring to Brian.
Kadie wheeled around, her fists balled at her sides, baring her teeth.
“He has a name. His name is Brian. And Brian is going with me.” She turned and stormed out the door, fuming at Curt’s insincerity. How could she have been attracted to such a jerk? Duke had warned her about this guy. What did he know that she didn’t? What did he see that she ignored?
The museum was almost a mile from their hotel, but they chose to walk. Well, Kadie decided to walk. Brian insisted they take a cab. They were both tired from yet another long night, but Kadie felt the long walk brought her back to life. She glanced at her brother, who was doing fine, but breathing heavily and slowing his pace. His reluctance was starting to show. Perhaps they’d take a cab back to the hotel.
The main building of the Archaeological Museum was a large two-story structure with four massive Corinthian-capped columns at the front entrance. Kadie dragged Brian up the steps into the front door. Once inside, they found Dr. Patricia Hastings in the lobby of the main building discussing something with one of the curators. She, too, wore a hijab loosely over her head. When they approached, Patricia’s face grew a pleasant smile.
“Kadie, Brian! I’m so glad you’re here.” Dismissing the curator, Patricia greeted them, arms extended. She embraced Kadie in a long, firm hug, kissing her on both cheeks. And she did the same for Brian, who tried to shy away and giggled at the process. It warmed her heart that Dr. Hastings treated Brian with respect.
“Hello, Doctor Hastings,” she said.
“Oh, poppycock, it’s Patricia. There are not many of us girls around, so we’ve got to stick together.” She gently laid her hand on Kadie’s forearm.
“Very well, Patricia.”
“Let’s grab a cappuccino and catch up on things.” Patricia led them to the tiny coffee shop attached to the museum. There was no one in line, and she ordered two cappuccinos and a Coca-Cola for Brian. They sat at a small table while the barista fixed their coffee.
The main building was one of three that comprised the museum. Renovated several years prior, it was one of Istanbul’s most prominent buildings built in the neoclassical style. Together, the buildings held over a million artifacts, but for some reason, GDI focused on this building to find clues for the hantavirus.
“How was the flight over?” Patricia said. “Any difficulties or complications?”
“It was fine . . . other than the 6:00 a.m. takeoff. We took a van at two in the morning to the airport. It was another night of travel and no sleep.”
Patricia appeared genuinely shocked. “My dear, you must be exhausted.” She placed her hand on top of Kadie’s.
“We’re tired and hungry, but Curt—Mister Baxter—said you needed to see us right away.”
Patricia waved her hand as if brushing the thought of him aside. “Oh, that’s not what I meant. It was more important that you get some rest and nourishment. Sometimes I wonder where I found that man. He just acts on his own.”
Kadie wondered if she should tell her what Duke had learned about Curt. Yes, she should. But was now the right time? “While we were in Jerusalem—”
“Yes, tell me about Jerusalem. How was the trip to the Holy Land? I’m so glad you had the opportunity to go. What did you think? Was it everything you expected?”
Kadie abandoned the topic of Curt for now. She needed to think of a way to bring it up. Perhaps tomorrow sometime.
“Kadie?” Patricia searched for some kind of answer concerning Kadie and Brian’s visit to Jerusalem. They had been so busy, Kadie didn’t have much time to reflect on it.
“It was inspiring.”
“Inspiring?” Patricia leaned back in her chair, her eyebrows scrunched together. “I didn’t expect to hear that coming from an atheist.”
Kadie’s head jerked up. “I never said I was an atheist.”
“Au contraire. The questionnaire you filled out on your application was very specific on religious beliefs. You matched as an atheist. But I’ll give you agnostic if that makes you feel better. Thankfully, you’re not a believer. You could be arrested for that here if you said that out loud.”
Kadie stared at her hands in front of her, tapping her fingertips together one at a time. She did fill out the questionnaire all those months ago. But the events of the last few days made her question her beliefs. She had seen things . . . felt things. Things she couldn’t explain. Kadie didn’t realize it until now, but perhaps she’d been wrong about God.
“Yes,” Kadie said. “A new twist on Don’t Ask, Don’t Tel
l.”
“Precisely.” The glee in Patricia’s voice was evident. Odd.
The barista brought their drinks to the small table. Brian eagerly slurped on his Coke, and Kadie added a couple of packets of sugar to her small, caffeinated beverage.
“So, Kadie, my interest is piqued. What did you find so inspiring in Jerusalem?”
Kadie sipped her cappuccino, then set the cup back into the saucer.
“We went to the Garden Tomb. There was—I felt something there. Something I don’t think I’ve ever felt before.”
“It’s a beautiful attraction. I’ve heard many people talk about their magical experiences there, but I wouldn’t take that too seriously, I’ve had similar experiences at Disney World.”
Kadie’s jaw clenched. The comparison seemed offensive at best. “I wouldn’t call it magical. It was spiritual. I can’t explain it, but the experience is making me rethink my position.”
“Really?” Patricia’s curiosity bubbled to the surface. “So, you think there is something to Jesus of Nazareth being the son of God? That he was crucified and rose from the dead?”
Kadie pondered the question. Her answer could impact her job. When she signed up, Christians were strictly forbidden. That was mainly because of the countries they operated in. GDI had agreements with the Islamic governments of these countries to operate with impunity. Kadie was confused by the emotions that stirred within her, but the truth found its way out, regardless of the impacts of her beliefs.
“Yes.”
29
Istanbul, Turkey
The Archeological Museum
* * *
Kadie observed Patricia’s reaction to her answer. Her mouth twitched on the left side, and the whites of her eyes grew and crunched her irises, making them appear smaller by the second.
“Yes,” Kadie repeated. “I believe Jesus is the Son of God and rose from the dead to cleanse us from our sins.” The words didn’t flow from her mouth—they flowed from her heart.
Brian stared at his sister, a huge smile spreading across his face.
“Kadie . . . yes!” The boy was excited, and so was she. A life-altering declaration that she had suppressed for years had just been made. Her eyes watered as Brian hugged her. They released their embrace, and she looked back at Patricia, who sat tight-lipped. The twitch was no longer present, and the white of her eyes gone, as her eyes narrowed.
“Well,” Patricia said, “I’m not sure what we can do about that. The contract says—”
“The contract doesn’t say anything about becoming a Christian. The questionnaire says you can’t be one to fill out the application because of the countries we are operating in. Nothing says I can’t convert while I’m here.” Kadie surprised herself at how easily that argument came out of her mouth. She was right, and she knew it. Because when she filled out the application, she wasn’t a believer. Only Brian was, and he wasn’t coming along to work for GDI. Kadie had made sure she understood everything they’d asked about religion throughout the process.
A faint smile perched on Patricia’s face. “You’re right.” She sipped her cappuccino. “I think we’ll be okay. But I’ll need to do some digging. I’ll call my contact at the embassy this afternoon just to make sure there’s no problem.”
Kadie studied the executive vice president of Science and Technology. She expected the woman to be a lot angrier than she appeared. They sat in silence for a moment, and Brian slurped his Coke through a straw.
“I want to offer you a job, Kadie.”
The coffee cup almost reached her mouth before Kadie returned it to the saucer. “Pardon me?”
“I’m offering you a full-time position with Global Disease Initiative. Or, actually, one of our affiliate companies.”
Kadie pushed away from the table. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
“You have done a remarkable job for us here. I want to keep you around.”
“But I haven’t done anything regarding my job. I’ve just—”
“Oh, balderdash. You’ve done everything we’ve asked. Not to mention the danger you’ve faced.”
Kadie pondered her comment. How could she have done a remarkable job? She hadn’t done anything yet except search for this supposed cure—and that was questionable after meeting Isaac.
“My goal, Doctor Hastings—”
“Patricia, please.” Her smile dripped from her face.
Kadie’s back straightened, and she clasped her hands in front of her.
“My goal, Patricia, is to return to Princeton and join the faculty there. This trip has been amazing. I’ve had the opportunity to see some incredible things—”
“And some quite terrifying things, it sounds.”
The statement was more on target than perhaps the executive vice president realized. Kadie thought about the last few days. Samuel’s murder, being chased by ISIS, the escape at the airport, and her adventures in Jerusalem. The experience had been more than she signed on for. “Yes, some terrifying things as well. But I think given the circumstances,” she paused and glanced at her brother, then Patricia, “I think it best that I return to the university.”
“But our work here isn’t finished.”
Kadie nodded. Time to go all in. “I understand. What exactly are we searching for? We’ve scoured museum after museum. When I was hired, I expected some archeological digs, exploring dark caverns and tombs. But for the last three weeks, I’ve been a highly paid tourist.”
“And being highly paid is a bad thing?”
“No, ma’am. Please understand, I’m very appreciative. But it . . . it just seems like I’m not doing anything that requires my specific skillset.”
“Kadie, you’re part of a team. Everyone on the team possesses a unique skill set. That’s why we brought you together.”
“That’s just it. None of our skills have been utilized, yet.”
“And they won’t be until we find what we’re searching for.”
“That’s the problem. What are we searching for? Duke said—”
“Who’s Duke?”
“Duke is one of the pilots who picked us up in Egypt. He said he’d read all the classified briefings on ISIS, and there’s no mention of a biological weapon anywhere.”
Patricia let out a long sigh. “Kadie, I recognize young men and their motives. He’s trying to win you over. I understand. But keep in mind, he’s only a contractor hired by the military to do a crappy job nobody else wants to do. It should be obvious, at this point, the resources GDI has at its disposal. He doesn’t have a need to know, so he doesn’t. It really is that simple.”
Perhaps Patricia was right. She mulled the words over. Maybe Duke didn’t have access to the information GDI had received from the government. But how did she know he was a military contractor? Kadie never mentioned it. Am I thinking too hard about this?
“What about Samuel?” she asked.
“Samuel?” Patricia’s reaction came out tense and loud. Odd.
“Samuel was murdered. Who is looking into that?”
“We have our contacts in the State Department. The embassy is working closely with the local authorities in Egypt to get to the bottom of Samuel’s murder and find the killers. The investigation is ongoing.”
“But we were told the killer was ISIS.”
“Based on your eyewitness testimony.”
“But why would ISIS target Samuel? A lone man in his hotel room on the second floor of a hotel?”
Patricia stammered. “Well, it, ah . . . it could be anything. Perhaps he made contact with the wrong people in town. Maybe he tried to buy drugs or something else on the black market. He was Jewish, after all. Not a practicing Jew, but Jewish, nonetheless. That in itself is enough to insult extremists to spark something.”
Kadie couldn’t believe what she heard. Patricia essentially gave the extremists a pass for killing a Jew simply because he was a Jew. It was the same mentality that led to the persecution of Christians back home.
“No, Samuel was on to something.” Oops. That slipped out.
Patricia set her cappuccino in the saucer. Her body tensed, and she leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
Kadie bit her bottom lip. “Samuel thought we were searching for something else.”
“Like what?”
“I—he didn’t say.”
Patricia sighed, her forefinger and thumb resting against the side of her face. “Then how do you know?”
“He called me. He said it was urgent. When I returned to the hotel, he had been attacked. That’s when I was chased.”
“But you managed to salvage his laptop before the police arrived.”
Here we go with the laptop again. GDI has an affinity for that device.
“Yes,” Kadie replied. “He said he had something important. I assumed he had sensitive information on the laptop. I mean, we all have sensitive information on these laptops, right? I didn’t want it stolen or locked up by the police.”
“That was quick thinking. Curt was stunned when he saw you had Samuel’s laptop.”
“Stunned is an understatement.” Kadie recalled the instant Curt transformed in front of her in Tel Aviv. The thin veneer of decency and pleasantness peeled away, exposing himself as what he really was. “He was a jerk.”
Patricia rolled her eyes. “Yes, he has his ways. But he’s effective.”
“What’s his background?”
“Curt? He’s from Delta Force. Highly recommended, I’m told.”
“That’s another thing. Duke said he talked to Delta Force members he knows, and no one has ever heard of Curt Baxter.” There, she said it.
“My dear, one can’t personally account for every single person within an organization.”