by JC Ryan
As he’d told Luke, David also told Sarah and Daniel that he had faith there was something to their theory. He’d seen secret after secret ferreted out and either given to top-rated companies to develop for the good of the US economy, or suppressed because they were simply too dangerous for anyone to have them. The conversation was so intense that at times, Daniel wanted to ask about Area 51, just so he could tell Raj, one way or the other. On the other hand, he’d promised Raj not to reveal his interest in anything to the CIA. Accordingly, he didn’t mention Raj at all.
Daniel had caught some of Raj’s paranoia about government agencies, so he was leery of David and the CIA, even while accepting the help and protection of the agency. Somewhere he remembered hearing the phrase “Keep your friends very close to you; keep your enemies even closer.” If the CIA were the enemy, he and Sarah would be crawling right into their enemy’s lap. However, he’d keep his own counsel about his misgivings, and give the appearance of total cooperation.
David made it very clear that they were to communicate only with him; not the protection detail if they spotted them, and definitely not the reception desk at Langley. He gave them each a card with his private cell phone number so they could reach him at all times. Then he warned them that for their own safety as well as his, he would be very deep undercover and that they should only contact him in case of dire emergency.
“I don’t want to try to tell you how to conduct your research,” he’d finished up, “but it is of grave importance that you be the ones to translate the message first. From what you’ve told me, there are likely to be others working on it with the same data you used to get as far as you did. Do you have another linguist to help you?”
“Not yet. We have a name, but we haven’t spoken to him yet,” Daniel said.
“We think it’s only fair that we tell him how dangerous it could be,” Sarah added. “So he may not agree to help.”
“Let me know if you need me to help find one. We have resources as well. Leave a message at the email on that card,” David said.
Then he departed, leaving Sarah and Daniel to enjoy a more leisurely dessert before going back to Daniel’s apartment.
With a glass of red wine in her hand, Sarah sank into Daniel’s sofa with a sigh.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Daniel asked.
“Do you mean, aside from Mark being murdered and us finding out that everything we’ve put on our computers since the beginning of this has been under someone’s scrutiny? And aside from the fact that we may have put Raj, my dad and uncle, your grandparents and soon any linguist we employ in as much danger as we put Mark in? Besides all that?” Daniel had never heard her so negative and depressed. He put his arm around her.
“Yes, honey, besides all that. We’re dealing with all that, other than Mark, and we can’t change that. I would have thought that getting protection from the CIA would help.”
“It does, Daniel, but I just feel all out of sorts. I can’t put my finger on it.” She sunk into him, relishing the warm arm around her, and put her head on his chest.
“Sweetheart, maybe I know what’s wrong,” Daniel said, running his hand down her arm and back up. Her hand on his leg was tantalizing, and it had occurred to him that he didn’t remember the last time they’d made love.
“What?” she asked.
“This,” he said, tilting her face to him and kissing her ardently. His heart was racing as he deepened the kiss and wrapped his free hand around to run his fingers through her hair. What a sweet armful she was! She must have missed this, too, because she curled into him and pressed into his chest like a kitten seeking shelter. Then her hand crept upward on his leg. Drawing back from the kiss to look into her eyes, Daniel sent a wordless question. Wordlessly, she answered by untangling herself and rising from the sofa. She pulled him along with her, and started down the hallway to his bedroom. It wouldn’t be long before everything was all right again.
On the way to Providence the next morning, Sarah felt more like herself than she had since that terrible morning the police had woken them with the news that they were suspects in Mark’s death. It made her wonder how Martha was doing, and she felt guilty that they’d been so busy they hadn’t seen Martha since right after the funeral. She made plans to drop by after her class this afternoon.
Meanwhile, Daniel had gone to work as usual, and as usual was having lunch with one of his friends. Today it was Owen, Raj having declined citing a big project. However, it was understood that Daniel would meet Raj for a drink and an update later this evening. Conscious of his CIA minder, he didn’t want to visit Raj at home. Owen had forgotten his pique over Daniel’s ill-temper of the week before, and was prattling on about something interesting he’d discovered, but he often did that. Daniel had learned to feign interest and let the chatter flow around him. Today, though, it had something to do with the Great Pyramid, so Daniel returned from his own thoughts to pay attention.
“The really cool thing,” Owen was saying, “is you can’t see it with the naked eye or from the ground. It wasn’t discovered until someone thought to take pictures from the air. Even then, the light has to be just right, but when it is, voila! Eight sides.”
Daniel had collected so many facts about the pyramid that he sometimes forgot some of them until reminded. This was one of them. Instead of the typical four flat sides, the Great Pyramid had eight, but it had been forgotten in the mists of time until an aerial photo had been taken at just the right time. It was now known that at dawn and sunset on the spring and fall equinoxes, a shadow appears in such a way as to divide the pyramid in half, and the concavity that divides each side on the center line is revealed.
Something about this fact nagged at him, but he couldn’t bring it to mind. Later tonight, he’d have to use his new technique of thinking about a problem intensely while he was trying to go to sleep, and see if his subconscious supplied an answer. But first, he needed to bring Raj up to speed. Daniel had a feeling Raj wasn’t going to like the CIA’s involvement.
~~~
Raj’s instructions about where to meet him were in the hidden email drafts folder when Daniel checked just before he left for work. Raj wanted him to take evasive action in case he was being followed, and Daniel didn’t have a secure way of signaling that he was indeed being followed, but by a CIA protection detail that he wanted there. Torn between exposing Raj by leading the protection detail to the little dive where they were to meet and losing his safety shield, Daniel’s military-trained buddy code kicked in. He’d evade surveillance this time, and warn Raj what was going on. After that, Raj could call the shots about meeting him.
Daniel had seen plenty of spy movies, and Raj’s instructions could have been drawn from their plots. There wasn’t a much better place to lose a tail than near the Times. He walked to the 42nd Street Port Authority bus terminal, went in one door and hurried to the men’s room, leaving by a different door than the one he came in. Then he ducked out of the bus terminal and flagged down a taxi, which he had drop him at Saks on 5th Avenue. After several more evasive moves, Daniel thought that if he hadn’t lost his tail by now, it wasn’t going to happen. He flagged down another taxi to take him to the bar where he expected to find Raj disguised in his girlfriend’s clothes again.
To his surprise, Raj was in his own clothes, and waiting for him behind an enormous plate of Buffalo wings. “Have some,” he invited Daniel.
Daniel ordered a draught IPA and dug into the wings. Raj said, “What is so urgent to tell me?”
“You’re not going to like it, Raj, but Sarah’s uncle went to some trouble to find out what’s going on and get us some help. I didn’t know when we left your place to go to Colorado that Uncle Luke is ex-CIA.”
Raj reacted physically, almost jumping back from the table, though he stayed in his chair. “No CIA, Daniel!”
“No, listen, dude. This guy is on the level. He told us what and why all those hacks to our computers were about. Did you know they keep track of rese
arch like ours in the interest of national security?”
Raj answered bitterly, “I know they surveil people they have no business to do, and that people disappear when they get too close to the truth. I have told you this, Daniel. Why would you allow them to get close to you?”
“To tell the truth, Raj, we didn’t have much choice. You yourself showed us that we’ve been watched from the beginning, and we suspected it was by more than one group. Now we know. This guy, David, has put protective details on us…wait, sit down!”
Raj had jumped up, knocking his chair to the floor and drawing the ire of the bartender. “I didn’t lead them here. Please, Raj, sit down and let me finish.”
Reluctantly, Raj picked up his chair and sat down, with a stubborn expression on his face. “I warned you,” he repeated.
“I know, Raj, and that’s why I took care to lose my tail before I met you. I wanted to let you know that I had one, so that you’d be even more cautious. We haven’t told anyone but Mark of your involvement, and I suspect he took that to his grave. I can’t protect Sarah by myself, I needed help. If you want out, I’ll understand, but I hope you’ll stick with us. We’ll do everything in our power to keep your name under our hats,” Daniel had known the extent of Raj’s paranoia about government agencies, and he’d been prepared for anger, but this was more than he’d bargained for. He didn’t know what they’d do if Raj bowed out now.
“My friend, you have put me in a very bad position. I see no alternative than to continue, and then to disseminate what we find as widely as possible so that the CIA will have no power over us. But if my contacts get wind of it, it will undo years of trust-building.”
“I’m sorry, Raj, I really am. What can I do to make it up to you?” Daniel’s contrition was sincere; he did want to make his friend feel better about the circumstances.
“Locate the truth about Area 51, and help me expose it,” Raj said, with only a trace of humor. He knew that Daniel didn’t believe there was anything to expose.
“If it’s out there, buddy, I’ll do it,” Daniel declared solemnly.
“What’s next, then?” Raj asked.
“I need to talk to the linguist Grandpa’s introducing me to, see if he’ll help. If not, we need to find someone who can, without tipping the bad guys that we’re looking.”
“So, you are convinced that it is not just the CIA interested in your research?” Raj asked.
“Pretty much, yes. From what Luke and now this David has told us, we stirred up interest among what could be international criminal cartels. And, like you, we feel that the only protection is in exposure. We’re going to move forward with all possible speed.”
Daniel was so busy smoothing Raj’s ruffled feathers that he forgot to mention the hunch he couldn’t quite bring into focus about the pyramid’s eight sides. He only remembered that when he was ready for bed, but this time his trick didn’t work. He actually woke up the next day not remembering he’d even been puzzled about anything.
Sarah wanted to be in on the interview of Sinclair O’Reilly, the linguist suggested by Nicholas, so Daniel curbed his impatience to wait for the weekend. He only checked out the man’s address so he’d know how to get there on Saturday morning when Sarah could go with him. She’d spent so much time in New York lately, that Daniel began to wonder if he could persuade her to move here permanently after they were married.
That reminded him to check on the progress the jeweler was making with the ring he’d ordered. It was pretty special, if he did say so himself. He only hoped she’d love it as much as he did. Owen had him half-convinced that if she didn’t like the ring, she’d say no to the proposal. That would be a disaster. Nothing would be right in his world until she’d said yes.
Chapter 26 – The Irish Connection
On Saturday at ten a.m., Daniel and Sarah knocked on Sinclair O’Reilly’s door and introduced themselves.
“I hope we aren’t disturbing you Dr. O’Reilly, but we’re here on a matter of some urgency. May I present a letter of introduction from my grandfather, Nicholas Rossler?” Daniel’s speech was so formal that Sarah wasn’t sure she was standing by her Daniel. She glanced at him admiringly.
O’Reilly’s eyes lit up at the mention of Nicholas. “Of course! I thought you looked familiar, young man. Should have put it together right away. Your grandfather and I go way back. Would you care to come in?”
Daniel ushered Sarah inside and followed, as they were admitted to a house redolent of scones and other delicious aromas.
“I was just about to have a mid-morning snack. Could I interest you in a scone?” O’Reilly was younger than they’d expected, assuming a contemporary of Nicholas. However, as he explained while passing cups of fragrant tea to the couple, he’d actually been Nicholas’s student as an undergraduate.
Daniel told himself he should stop trying to visualize how a person would look by their name. Instead of the Irish leprechaun he’d expected of Sinclair, the man was a tall, ascetic-looking academic with iron-gray hair and piercing brown eyes. He had a look of intense interest in the world, whatever was before him, which at this moment was Sarah. Clearly charmed by her looks and gentle manner, he was doing his best to impress her.
When their unexpected repast was finished, O’Reilly suggested they retire to his office where he would read the letter from Nicholas. He raised his eyebrows when he was finished and sent his acute gaze to each of the couple in turn.
“Fascinating,” he said. “Nicholas assures me you are quite serious and that you do not expect to find aliens at the bottom of this mystery.”
Daniel smiled faintly, “It would be really ironic if we did, after all the protesting we’ve done that we don’t believe it. But no, no aliens in our theory.”
“Suppose you tell me what your theory is,” O’Reilly said.
Daniel began patiently to tell his story again, beginning with the anomalies of construction and moving on to the remarkable coincidences, if that’s what they were, in the measurements, the positioning and the astronomical facts. As he cataloged the facts, O’Reilly nodded periodically as if he’d known of them before.
At last, Daniel was at an end of the recitation, and paused for comment.
“You’ve done a very thorough job of putting all these facts into logical order, Mr. Rossler. May I ask if you’ve drawn any conclusions?”
“You may. We’ve not only drawn a conclusion, we’ve corroborated it.”
This statement caused O’Reilly’s eyebrows to rise quizzically. “Indeed.”
“Yes, sir. If I may go on…” Daniel then summarized how they’d hit on the idea of a message, and, in a neutral tone that belied the bombshell he was about to drop, said, “We have a partial translation of what we believe is a greeting from the passageway leading into the pyramid.”
O’Reilly leaned forward in an almost violent motion. “The devil you say!”
“It’s true, sir. Before I go on, I must tell you that the price of deciphering that message was the death of a very good friend. We believe we’re into something quite dangerous, and for that reason we feel full disclosure is imperative if we ask you to work with us.”
O’Reilly betrayed surprise again, and then leaned back, his long fingers tented in front of his chin. “Very well. I trust you will reveal the message to me only if I agree to work with you.”
“Sir, we feel it’s best for your safety,” Sarah injected.
“Thank you for your concern, Dr. Clarke. Please, tell me what happened to your friend.”
Daniel took up the narrative again, telling of Mark’s murder shortly after he’d revealed the translation to them. He then explained that they didn’t know who the translator was, only that it was someone at the Joukowsky Institute who had not come forward, apparently in fear for his life.
“So you see, we are at a standstill without a linguist. We have the data, we have the technique, but we haven’t pinned down the language, other than that it appears to be an ancient form of Arabic,�
� Daniel concluded.
“I have to tell you, Rossler that you couldn’t have hit upon a more enticing subject. I’ve been very bored since my retirement and the passing of my wife. I’m inclined to agree to work with you. But before we discuss that further, do you have any idea of who would have killed your friend?”
“We’ve been contacted by the CIA, who have frankly told us of their interest. Our contact also mentioned that there are criminal organizations who would be desperate to get their hands on something as explosive as our theory of a more ancient civilization and their advanced knowledge. Other than that, nothing specific.”
“Hmmm. Nicholas may not know it, but as a hobby, I’ve picked up some knowledge in that area that may be helpful. Tell me, who is helping you with the data?”
Daniel was cautious, but if the project were to move forward, the two men would eventually have to work closely together. On the strength of his grandfather’s trust in Sinclair, he mentioned Raj by first name only.
“I wonder if it’s the same Raj…” Sinclair mused. “Bet it is. I know he’s a data analyst.”
Daniel was confused. “Wait, do you mean you knew of him before I brought him up? How?”
"I knew of a data analyst named Raj from my association with a group of Area 51 enthusiasts."
Daniel and Sarah could not have been much more shocked if Sinclair had stood on his head and declared his belief in men in the moon or Martians. They looked at each other significantly and then turned to Sinclair for an explanation.
"Don't worry, I have no illusions that there are a colony of extraterrestrials being held prisoner by our government. I sort of backed into the group, based on my belief that there is something going on at that location that the government isn't telling us. From my research about the time it started, I suspect it has something to do with fissionable material, but that's as far as I've thought about it."