“As the chair of the Intelligence Committee, I’m skeptical, but open to what you have to say. What makes you think this genetics professor in Bakersfield, California, is worthy of surveillance?”
“His published articles, Senator, are filled with hidden genetic sequences, and they—”
“How do you know?” Stein gave her a disbelieving look. “Are you a geneticist?”
“I have a degree in genetics, sir, though my specialty is historical cryptography. Hakari is using a combination of ancient mystical traditions to convey his findings, primarily the Jewish Kabbalah, Christian Gnosticism, and intriguingly even the same code René Descartes used in his secret notebook to hide his true belief—”
“Sounds like New Age crap to me, Lieutenant.” Senator Stein glanced at his watch to demonstrate he was in a hurry. “Why should I care? What does this have to do with national security?”
“Hakari has identified the genetic sequence of a plague that will devastate the world.”
The senator went quiet. He stared at her, then at General Cozeba. “Do you believe this, Matt?”
“No. I don’t. But can we afford to just ignore it?”
Stein toyed with a pen on his desk. “Lieutenant Asher, you really believe this guy has identified a clear and present danger to America?”
“I do, sir. In fact, I’m worried that Hakari developed this plague and plans to loose it on the world.”
“He invented it?”
“I think so. And he may be using these coded messages to communicate his findings to other terrorists. Sir, do you really want to take that chance?”
Stein tossed his pen down and laced his fingers on the desktop. After a few seconds, he said, “All right. For now, I believe you. But I’m not committing major resources to a hunch. I’ll get enough funding to allow you to surveil the professor for three months.”
Anna straightened. “And if I find something?”
“Lieutenant, if you can convince me of the real possibility that this professor has created a deadly plague, I’ll back you till kingdom come.”
When Cozeba moved to her right, the memory dissolved and Anna was back in the cold stone room.
“We knew we probably couldn’t stop the plague, General.”
Cozeba glared at the wall. “That doesn’t make it any easier, Captain.”
“No, sir.”
Cozeba lowered his hand to rest on the butt of his holstered pistol and slowly walked for the door.
Before he exited, he turned and pinned her with a commanding gaze. “As of this moment, Captain, you’re the bait. He truly believes you have the key he needs to unlock the cure. When Garusovsky comes—”
“I understand, sir.”
When Cozeba pulled the door open, harsh white radiance briefly filled the room, and then vanished with the general.
Anna eased down to sit on the tabletop and stared at the ceiling where the gray stones created a flickering canopy.
CHAPTER 52
OCTOBER 23. AFTERNOON.
Micah wandered barefoot around the circumference of the room, wondering what was happening beyond the walls of his dark prison. Where was Anna? What had happened to Nadai? No one was allowed to enter his room. At feeding time, one soldier just shoved in a tray of food and water, while another covered his friend with a rifle. Once every three hours, they escorted him to the head. The entire process took less than five minutes.
Voices muttered outside.
Micah walked over and stood with his shoulder leaned against the heavy wooden door, listening to the guards, Sergeant James Armstrong and Private Elijah Wesson. The aroma of coffee wafted through the cracks.
Armstrong said, “I’m telling you, it was eerie. I had my ear pressed to the door the whole time, but I couldn’t hear much. Then when Major Bibi came out, I heard Asher say, ‘Light is an image of the Divine Word that will stop the ravishment.’”
“What’s the ravishment?”
Micah closed his eyes to listen harder, wondering why Bibi had been allowed to see Anna. It seemed an unusual privilege given Anna’s status as a traitor.
“Don’t know, but the only thing that needs stopping is the plague, dude. So, I think it means like the ravishment of the human race.”
Hope filled Wesson’s voice. “Does that mean Captain Asher knows a way to stop the plague?”
“That’s what it sounded like to me.”
“Then how come we have her locked up in the fort instead of in a lab aboard the Mead?”
A short pause ensued while Armstrong seemed to think about it. “General’s orders.”
“Well, maybe it’s time to stop listening to the brass and go for broke using whatever tool we can find. If Asher can stop the plague, I don’t care if she sold nukes to the Devil himself. Humanity’s on the edge of the abyss, bro.”
Armstrong’s uniform rustled with his uneasy movements. “Well, I’m with you, but we’re talking mutiny, so keep your voice down.”
“Ain’t nobody out here to hear me. ’Less you think the walls got ears.”
“Not convinced they don’t.”
Wesson didn’t respond for a while. Micah figured the private was looking around for listening devices or cameras that might be concealed in the walls and rafters.
Finally, Wesson said, “You understand that part about light? How could light stop the plague?”
“Got me, but if it has to do with light, I guess Major Bibi is the person for the task. Never could understand what she did. I mean, what is architectural photonics?”
“Using photons like bricks, I guess, to build the messages that we send. What else did you hear?”
Armstrong’s boots thudded softly on the stone floor as he walked closer to Wesson. They both stood right in front of Micah’s door now. Metal clinked as one of the men shifted the rifle he probably had slung over his shoulder. Every guard carried two weapons at all times, a rifle and a holstered sidearm.
“Crazy stuff, man. When Major Bibi went into Asher’s room, she had a stack of papers with her. She must have asked Asher to analyze them. Asher told Bibi she couldn’t say anything because the president himself had classified her knowledge of the code. You believe that?”
“Don’t know.”
Micah’s heart rate picked up. The president? He quietly shifted to place his ear against the crack in the door. The coffee smell was stronger. Dim lantern light seeped through, casting a threadlike line on the stone floor.
Then one of them expelled a breath. “Did I tell you the story I heard two days ago?”
“What story?”
“About Malta. I guess there’s a crazy system of tunnels that honeycomb the island and back in the 1940s a bunch of kids, thirty fourth-graders, went into the tunnels on a field trip and got lost. For weeks afterward, people heard cries and screams coming up from underground all over the island, but nobody ever found ’em.”
“Not even their dead bodies?”
“Nope. Guess there are deep passageways that stretch beyond the shores for hundreds of miles, snaking out under the ocean all the way to Rome. The kids probably wandered into one of ’em.”
“To Rome? That’s bullshit.”
“Yeah, probably, good story though.”
They laughed again.
Micah exhaled softly and returned to thinking about Bibi meeting with Anna. Anna had wanted Bowen, a biologist, to see the photonic sequence. He tried to imagine what that might mean.
Wesson said, “Heard General Cozeba say there were only one hundred thirty-seven soldiers left on the entire island of Malta.”
“Maybe one hundred thirty-seven soldiers left in the whole world.”
“Yeah. I guess.” Anguish touched the private’s words.
“Christ, I been thinking a lot about home. I try not to … but I can’t help it. Been worried sick about my family. I’ve got three little sisters. What do you think is happening in America?”
Micah silently moved away from the door and walked out into the m
iddle of the dark room. He didn’t want to hear them talking about home. It would make him think of Atlanta, and he couldn’t afford that dread right now.
To relieve his tension, he let himself fall forward, and when his palms hit the floor, he did fifty rapid push-ups while he contemplated their conversation. At Bir Bashan, Bibi had said she designed transmissions in photons. What else had she said? He fought with his fragmentary memory, trying to dredge up more.
He flipped over to do fifty sit-ups. When he’d counted to forty-six, boots shuffled outside.
“Tenshut!” Armstrong ordered.
Micah shoved to his feet and looked at the door, expecting Cozeba and maybe an “enhanced interrogation team.” He figured it was time for them to move beyond harsh words.
Shadows passed in front of the lamplight. How many people were out there?
The door lock rattled.
When the door swung open, Micah squinted against the bright light that flooded the room. After a man had been locked in darkness, it took longer than usual for his eyes to adjust. The stark glare actually hurt.
Major Sam Lehman stood outside, carrying a lantern. His brown hair and gray temples had a silver sheen. Behind him, a medic stood with a small black bag in his hand. The man looked to be in his early twenties, with red hair. He stared into Micah’s room as though he expected to find a chained monster. He kept licking his lips in fear.
“Major Lehman,” Micah greeted him and propped his hands on his hips. “How can I help you?”
“Captain Hazor, if you will cooperate, this will only take two minutes.”
“What am I cooperating with?”
The medic walked forward, veered wide around Micah where he stood in the center of the floor, and went straight to the cot, where he opened his bag and began laying out instruments on the blanket.
Lehman stepped into the room, flanked by Armstrong and Wesson, who held their rifles in their hands, ready if Micah did not cooperate. Micah studied them. Armstrong was a good six inches taller than Wesson, but Wesson made up for it with heavy muscles.
“Captain, we need to take a blood sample. Please sit down on the cot so Corporal Janus can complete his task.”
Micah nodded obligingly. “No problem, Major.”
As he walked toward the cot, he rolled up his left sleeve. After he’d sat down, he held out his arm.
Corporal Janus glanced up at Micah, gave him a courteous nod, and tied the rubber strap above Micah’s elbow. While he waited for the veins to swell, Janus tore open a new needle, pressed it onto a syringe, and thumped Micah’s veins with his finger.
“I’ll be fast, sir,” Janus said as he inserted the needle into Micah’s arm. He filled one tube, then two more. On the second, he untied the rubber strap and let it fall to the floor, while he reached for a third tube and snapped in into the syringe.
Armstrong and Wesson had relaxed. They spoke softly to each other where they stood beside the open door. Janus busied himself repacking his bag. Only Lehman watched Micah like a hawk.
Micah counted six weapons. Four pistols and two rifles. He’d faced worse odds.
Janus pressed a cotton ball over the bloody puncture, wrapped it with an elastic bandage, and said, “Thank you, sir.”
As he swiftly headed for the door, Micah rolled down his sleeve.
Lehman ordered, “Sergeant Armstrong? I want you and Private Wesson to wait outside. I need to speak with Captain Hazor alone. And please bring us the lantern. You can use a flashlight while I’m questioning Captain Hazor.”
“Yes, sir.”
Armstrong and Wesson walked out, then Wesson returned, set the solar lantern just inside the door, and closed it behind him. The unnatural gleam turned the room vaguely blue.
Micah just stared at Lehman. The man didn’t say a word, but Micah knew he’d get around to his subject eventually.
At last, Lehman said, “You didn’t ask why we need your blood.”
“I assume you’re testing to see if the vaccination produced valuable antibodies against the plague.”
Lehman’s eyes flared in surprise, as though that were news to him. As though disturbed by Micah’s answer, he walked a few paces away, before he said, “Was it the Russians who vaccinated you?”
Micah started to rise, and Lehman ordered, “Remain seated, Captain.”
Micah smiled and eased back to the blanket. “Apparently, but you should ask Anna. She knows a lot more about this than I do. Are you aware that Cozeba has been working with the Russians, and he tasked Anna with creating a photonic code so he could communicate with his Russian contact?”
“What are you talking about? What code?”
“I’m at the very edge of my knowledge here, Lehman. Ask Anna.”
Lehman’s mouth opened slightly. But he didn’t seem to know what to say.
Micah glanced at the door, knowing that both Armstrong and Wesson must be listening attentively to their conversation. If anything happened, and he suspected it would in the near future, he wanted them prepared for the worst.
Lehman whispered, “Does Anna know the cure? Cozeba thinks she does.”
Micah raised his voice. “Yes. She knows how to stop the plague.”
Lehman unwisely took a step toward Micah. “Has she told you how?”
Four. Everything is founded on four …
“No.”
Lehman glanced at the door. He looked annoyed with himself for not catching the eavesdropping earlier. “I should have known there was a reason you raised your voice.”
Micah relaced his hands over his knee. “You said that Cozeba supplied the analysts that indicted Anna Asher. Did you double-check their work? Make sure the results weren’t fabricated to frame her?”
Lehman ground his teeth. “I didn’t see the actual report. It was beyond my clearance level. The general gave us a synopsis of the findings, but the evidence was clearly—”
“Irrefutable. Yes, I recall you saying that. You didn’t demand the right to review the report yourself? How could you do that to a friend?”
Micah rose and walked across the floor toward Lehman.
Lehman did not order him to sit back down. “Hazor, I swear to you, I tried. The general wouldn’t allow anyone to review the actual report.”
“So you don’t even know if there was an actual report?”
Irritated, Lehman replied, “That tone of voice is bordering on insubordination, Captain.”
“Oh, come on, Lehman. Do you really think I care if you write me up for disciplinary action? Go ahead. Given what’s happening out there, I won’t have long to worry about it.”
Lehman balled his fists at his sides. “I never wanted to hurt her. I—”
“Where is Anna being held, Major?”
“I can’t tell you that, Captain.”
“Where is Dr. Martin Nadai quartered?”
“I’m not giving you any infor—”
“What about Captain Bowen? Is she still alive out in the Garden?”
Lehman looked slightly flustered by Micah’s understanding of what was happening in the fort. After all, Micah had been in utter isolation, hadn’t he? Lehman backed up a step, putting more distance between them. Micah casually took note of his holstered pistol. A nonregulation revolver. “Yes, but she’s very ill.”
“What about Colonel Logan?”
“He died today, along with another soldier, Private Madi—”
Micah lunged, slammed his shoulder into Lehman’s chest, knocked the wind out of him, and sent the major reeling backward. As Lehman gasped for air, he jerked his pistol from the holster. Micah spun, kicked the weapon from his hand, and the pistol clattered across the floor. Gasping like a beached fish, Lehman charged Micah.
Micah pivoted, grabbed the major’s arm, and used his momentum against him to twist Lehman’s arm behind his back. When Micah clamped his muscular arm over Lehman’s windpipe, the man coughed and struggled valiantly to break Micah’s hold. In Lehman’s ear, Micah said, “You’re a historia
n. I’m spec ops. Don’t be stupid.”
Despite his warning, for thirty or forty seconds Lehman fought wildly. His face went red and his eyes progressively bulged from his face. When he started to panic, he croaked, “Okay!”
“That’s good, Major.”
Micah released some of the pressure on the man’s windpipe so he could breathe better. “Take a few good breaths, then we’re going to walk over to the wall and pick up that pistol. I suspect you’ve seen my record. If you try anything, I’ll snap your neck without a second thought. You understand?”
Lehman nodded as he wheezed.
Micah walked him to the wall and ordered, “Squat down, Major.”
When the major’s knees started to bend, Micah hurled the man against the stone wall, grabbed the pistol, and pointed it at Lehman’s head. Slumped against the wall, he just looked at Micah while he gasped and rubbed his injured throat. Interestingly, Lehman did not cry out.
Micah said, “You’re smarter than I thought. Where’s Anna being held?”
Lehman finally managed to get enough breath into his lungs to pant, “You’ll never … find the way … without a guide.”
“I’m sure that’s true, but tell me anyway. Anna’s life depends upon it.”
Lehman glanced from the barrel to Micah’s deadly eyes, and said, “Two flights up. Take the first right, walk down the corridor thirty paces or so, turn left and walk to the fifth door on the left.”
“And Nadai?”
“One floor up.”
It’s probably a lie … but maybe not.
“Thank you, Major. Now I want you to walk outside and relieve Armstrong and Wesson. Tell them to go have dinner. Tell them you’re taking over their guard position. Reassign them somewhere. I don’t care what you say, but get them out of this part of the fort. And don’t forget, this revolver is poised to put a really big hole in the back of your head.”
Gasping through his injured throat, he nodded.
“Good. Stand up slowly.”
Lehman rose to his feet with his arms raised.
“After they’re gone, Major, I want you to come back in, close the door, then take off your clothes.”
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