“We have one lead,” Painter said. “We were able to pick out his name off the video feed. Nasser. But that’s the best we could manage.”
Sean waved a dismissive hand. “His aliases are as numerous as his assassinations. He’s left a bloody trail all around the world, mostly concentrating in North Africa and throughout the Middle and Near East. Though just recently he’s extended deeper into the Mediterranean. The garroting of an archaeologist in Greece. The assassination of a museum curator in Italy.”
Painter’s attention hardened back to the screen. “In Italy? Where?”
“Venice. A curator found shot in the prisons below the Duke’s Palace. Nasser — or whatever his real name is — was seen in surveillance footage of the piazza outside.”
Painter rubbed his chin, hard enough to burn the stubble. “I received a call earlier from Monsignor Verona at the Vatican. The details should be in the sit-op report. There is a good chance that Seichan was also attempting some action in Italy at around that time.”
Sean’s eyes slowly narrowed. “Interesting. It’s a coincidence that bears further investigation. Both assassins in Italy. Now they’re here. One hunting the other. Two master assassins, the best of the Guild. And if nothing else, Nasser has driven Seichan into our arms.”
Or rather into Gray’s arms, Painter added silently.
“We need that woman in custody. Immediately. To lose this chance is beyond acceptable.”
Painter understood the severity of the situation, but he also knew Gray, how his mind worked. If anyone had a level of paranoia equal to his own, it was Gray. Custody could prove to be a problem.
“Sir, Commander Pierce is on the run. Ambushed at the safe house, he must suspect a leak like we do. He’ll go into hiding with her. Lay low until he feels it’s safe to come out of the cold.”
“We may not have that long to wait. Not with the Butcher of Calcutta hunting them both now.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Commander Pierce must be found, brought back in with her. I have no choice but to expand the search, to contact local authorities and the FBI. I’ve already ordered a search of all hospitals and medical facilities. We can’t let him go to ground.”
“Sir, I would prefer to give Commander Pierce some leeway to address the situation. The more light shone in his direction, the more likely it will draw the attention of Nasser.”
“If so, then we attempt to apprehend two Guild operatives.”
Painter could not keep the shock from his voice. “By using Gray as bait.”
Sean stared out of the monitor. Painter read the stiffness of his posture. He also noted again the pressed jacket and shirt. Painter suddenly realized he had not been the first one to have Sean’s ear this night.
“This decision was made by Homeland. Signed by the president. There will be no countermanding it.” Sean firmed his voice. “Gray and this Guild agent must be found and brought in by whatever force necessary.”
Painter found no words to argue. There could be none. It was a new world. He slowly nodded. He would cooperate.
Still, in his heart, he knew Gray.
On the run, hunted by both sides, the man would prove formidable.
He would hide deep.
3:04 A.M.
“I spotted a Starbucks in the lobby downstairs,” Kowalski mumbled. “Maybe it’s open now. Anyone want a cup of Joe?”
“We stay put,” Gray said.
Kowalski shook his head. “No fucking kidding. It was a joke.”
Ignoring him, Gray continued to examine Seichan’s broken obelisk. They were gathered in the small reception room of a dental office. At his elbow, a table lamp illuminated the cramped space, decorated in the typical cookie-cutter manner: months-old magazines, generic watercolors, an anemic potted ficus plant, and a dark wall-mounted television.
Forty minutes ago the group had followed the woodland trail to the edge of Glover-Archibold Park. It had ended at a street that separated the park from the Georgetown University campus. At that hour, there had been no cars, no traffic. They had hurried across the street, slipped between two darkened research buildings, and reached the university’s Dental Annex. The hospital proper lay beyond, lit brightly. They had dared not go that far, risk that level of exposure.
So they made other arrangements.
Across the dental-room reception, Kowalski swore quietly and folded his arms, plainly bored but still on edge. They all awaited word.
“What’s taking so goddamn long?” Kowalski grumbled.
Gray had learned the man was a former seaman with the U.S. Navy. He’d been recruited into Sigma following his assistance with a Sigma operation in Brazil, not as an agent, but as muscle. He had tried to show Gray his scars from that mission as they waited, but Gray declined. The man did not know how to shut up. No wonder he’d been assigned to guard duty. Alone.
But Kowalski’s ongoing commentary had not fallen on deaf ears.
Across the room, Gray’s father lay sprawled over three chairs, eyes closed but not sleeping. It took an effort to maintain that deep frown.
“So you’re some sort of science spy,” his father had said earlier. “Figures…”
Gray still didn’t know what his father meant by that, but now was not the time to confront the issue. The sooner he could get Seichan patched up and away from his parents…the better for all of them.
Gray continued his examination. He turned the obelisk around, studying every surface. The black stone was ancient, pitted and scored, but was otherwise nondescript. It looked Egyptian, but it was not his area of expertise. Even his assessment of origin might have been clouded by the failed assassin’s Egyptian accent.
But one feature of the obelisk was definitely not natural to the stone.
He turned the broken top section on end. Protruding from the bottom was a bar of silver, about the thickness of his smallest finger. He touched it. Gray knew it was the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Something had been hidden at the heart of the obelisk. Looking more carefully at the broken end, he was able to make out an old cemented seam in the stone, invisible from the outside. The obelisk was really two pieces of marble craftily glued together, hiding something within. Like carving out the pages of a book to hide a gun or valuables.
He remembered Seichan’s words.
It might save the world…if we’re not too late already.
Whatever she meant, it was important enough for her to come seek him out, to betray the Guild.
He needed answers.
The creak of the door drew his attention. Gray’s mother pushed into the dental suite. She pulled a surgical mask from her face.
Gray stood up.
“She’s damn lucky,” his mother said. “We’ve cauterized the bleeding and hung a second unit of blood. Mickie thinks she’ll do fine. He’s finishing her dressing.”
Mickie was Dr. Michael Corrin, a former teaching assistant of his mother’s who had gone on to medical school, largely based on his mother’s recommendation. The depth of their relationship and trust extended to this midnight house call, a secret rendezvous at the hospital’s neighboring dental facility. A quick ultrasound revealed the night’s first bit of good news. The bullet hadn’t pierced Seichan’s abdominal cavity. The shot had passed just lateral to her pelvic bone.
“When can she be moved?” Gray asked.
“Mickie would rather she spend a few hours here, at the very least.”
“We don’t have that much time.”
“I explained that to him.”
“Is she awake?”
A nod. “After the first unit of blood, she grew more responsive. Mickie’s loaded her with antibiotics and analgesics. She’s already sitting up.”
“Then it’s time to go.” Gray went to push past his mother. He had observed the ultrasound, but he’d been chased out when the doctor set to work on the wound. No amount of arguing would make the doctor budge.
Gray hadn’t liked letting Seichan out of his sigh
t, so he’d left with the broken obelisk. Seichan was not going anywhere without it.
With the two pieces of the obelisk in hand, Gray shoved through the door. His mother followed. Gray crossed to the first dental suite. He almost ran into Dr. Corrin as he was stepping out. The young doctor stood as tall as Gray, but he was sandy-haired and whip-thin. A manicured line of beard traced his jawline. Wearing a scowl, Dr. Corrin nodded back to the room.
“She yanked her catheter and asked that I fetch you. And an ultraviolet light.” He waved a hand toward the rear of the dental office. “My brother uses one to cure dental composites. I’ll be right back.”
With the way open, Gray entered the suite.
With her back to him, Seichan was sitting in a dental chair, naked from the waist up, struggling to pull a borrowed Redskins T-shirt over her head. A steri-drape lay crumpled at her feet. Even with her bare back to him, Gray read the strain of the effort. She had to catch herself on the armrest.
His mother sidestepped him. “Let me help you. You shouldn’t be doing that by yourself.”
Seichan resisted. “I’ve got it.” She lifted an arm to ward off any help, but flinched with a gasp.
“Enough, young lady.”
Gray’s mother went to her side and helped her tug the T-shirt over her bare breasts and bandaged midriff. Turning around, Seichan discovered Gray standing there. Her face darkened, abashed. But Gray suspected her embarrassment lay not in being almost caught naked, but in showing weakness.
She slowly stood, face hardening against the pain. Leaning her rear end against the reclined chair, she rebuttoned her pants, still tight to her hips.
“I need to speak to your son,” she said to Gray’s mother, voice hoarse, dismissive.
His mother glanced to Gray. He nodded to her.
“I’ll go check on your father,” his mother said coldly, and left.
Down the hall, the muted sound of a television started. Apparently Kowalski had found the remote.
Alone now, Gray and Seichan stared at each other. Neither spoke, both taking a moment to size the other up.
Dr. Corrin stepped to the door with a handheld lamp. “This is all we have.”
“It will do.” Seichan tried to raise a hand to ask for it, but her arm trembled.
Gray accepted it, cradling the pieces of obelisk in one arm. “We’ll need a minute.”
“Of course.” Dr. Corrin followed after Gray’s mother, sensing the tension in the room.
Seichan’s eyes had never left Gray’s face. “Commander Pierce, I’m sorry I put your family at risk. I underestimated Nasser.” She gingerly touched her bandaged wound. Acid entered her voice. “I won’t make that mistake again. I thought I had lost him in Europe.”
“You didn’t,” Gray snapped back.
Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t because Sigma command is compromised. The Guild used your own resources to track and expose me. The blame does not fall squarely upon me.”
Gray had no argument against that.
She touched her forehead as if she had forgotten something, but Gray suspected she was stalling, weighing what to say and what to leave out. “You must have a thousand questions,” she mumbled.
“Only one. What the hell is going on?”
Her left eyebrow lifted. A strangely familiar gesture, a reminder of their shared past. “To answer that, we have to start there.” She nodded to the obelisk. “If you’ll set it on the instrument table…”
Needing answers, Gray obeyed, balancing the broken piece atop the base.
“The lamp…” she said.
A moment later, with the overhead lights off, Gray bent over and studied the rows of illuminated letters glowing upon the black stone, across all four surfaces.
He did not recognize the lettering as any hieroglyphs or runes he’d ever seen. He glanced across at her. The whites of Seichan’s eyes glowed in the ultraviolet backwash.
“What you’re looking at is angelic script,” she said. “The language of the archangels.”
Gray’s brow crinkled with his disbelief.
“I know,” she said. “Insane. The script’s origin traces back to both early Christianity and ancient Hebrew mysticism. If you want to know more—”
“Skip it. I’d rather find out what you meant when you said that the obelisk could save the world.”
She leaned back, glancing away — then her eyes flicked to him. “Gray, I need your help. I have to stop them, but I can’t do it alone.”
“Do what alone?”
“Go against the Guild. What they are attempting…” Again there was that flash of fear from her.
Gray frowned. When he’d first run into Seichan, she had been attempting to explode weaponized anthrax over Fort Detrick. Considering such callousness, what would scare her now?
“I helped you in the past,” she said, trying the guilt card.
“To defeat a mutual enemy,” he countered. “And to save your own skin.”
“And that’s all I’m looking for here again. Cooperation to defeat a mutual enemy. And it’s not just my life in jeopardy this time. Hundreds of millions are threatened. And it’s already started. The seeds are planted.”
She nodded to the obelisk’s glowing writing. “All that is stopping the Guild is locked in this riddle. If we could solve it first, there would be some hope. But I’ve gone as far as I can alone. I need fresh eyes, someone with more knowledge.”
“And you expect the two of us to be able to solve what thwarts the Guild with its vast resources. If we brought all of Sigma into the picture—”
“You’d be handing the Guild their victory. There is a mole in Sigma. Whatever Sigma learns, the Guild will know.”
She was right. It was worrisome, to say the least.
“So you propose we go it alone. Just the two of us.”
“And one other…if he’ll cooperate.”
“Who?”
“When it comes to dealing with angels and archaeology, there is only one other person I respect.”
Gray knew immediately to whom she was referring. “Vigor.”
She nodded. “I left Monsignor Verona a calling card, a mystery to begin solving on his own. If you cooperate, we’ll continue on.” She touched the obelisk, wobbling the broken half. “To the next step on the angelic path.”
“And where is that?”
Another shake of her head. She certainly was not going to make this easy. “I will tell you when we are away. As it is, we must get moving. The longer we sit in one place, the greater risk of our exposure.”
She reached for the obelisk.
Gray beat her to it. He snatched up the larger half of the broken obelisk and raised it over his head. He’d had enough.
“Destroy it if you want,” Seichan warned. “I still won’t tell you anything more. Not until we’re safely away and you agree to help.”
Gray ignored her. “I assume you already made copies of the script here, probably even photos.”
“Several in fact,” she said.
“Good.”
He brought his arm down and smashed the obelisk against the floor. It shattered into several pieces, skittering across the linoleum. A small gasp of surprise escaped Seichan, indicating she had no clue anything was hidden inside the statue.
“What…what have you done?”
Gray bent down and picked through the pieces to retrieve the chunk of silver from the debris. He straightened. In his fingers, he held what was hidden inside the stone. He was momentarily stunned silent.
He lifted the large silver crucifix.
Seichan’s eyes widened with recognition. She jerked closer, oblivious of any pain. “It cannot be. You found it.”
“Found what?”
“Friar Agreer’s cross.” Her voice lowered, both angry and mortified. “I had it all along.”
“Who is Friar Agreer?”
“Friar Antonio Agreer. The priestly confessor to Marco Polo.”
Marco Polo?
Tired of
the riddles and half statements, Gray snapped harshly. “Seichan, what the hell is going on?”
She waved to a side chair, where her ripped leather bomber jacket had been tossed. “We have to get out of here.”
He refused to move, blocking her as she stepped toward the chair.
She lowered her chin, her eyes going hard. “Gray, make up your damned mind. I don’t have the time.” She made to push past him.
He grabbed her upper arm. “And what’s to stop me from just turning your ass over to Sigma.”
She twisted free. All the freshly transfused blood was now in her face, livid and furious.
“Because you know goddamn better, Gray! If the Guild catches me, I’m dead. If your government captures me, I’ll be locked far away forever, beyond any ability to stop what’s about to happen. That’s why I came to you. But fine. I’ll sweeten the deal. Make you a trade. How’s that? Help me, convince Vigor of the same, and afterward I’ll give you the name of the mole at Sigma. If saving lives isn’t good enough…the wolves are already at Sigma’s door. You may not know it, but the powers that be are seeking to castrate you all, to put you all out to pasture, and now that another mole — a second mole — is hidden in your midst, they’ll burn you down and salt the ground. End of Sigma. Forever.”
Gray found himself swaying. He had indeed heard of such rumors, engendered by the internal audit by NSA and DARPA. But he also remembered a different Seichan, bent over him, gun in his face. She had attempted to kill him when they’d first met. How much could he trust her?
Before the standoff could be resolved, a shout came from the reception area. “Commander Pierce! Come see this!”
Gray swore under his breath at the man’s loud bark. What about covert didn’t Kowalski understand?
Gray met Seichan’s gaze. She was still burning with raw anger, but it failed to lay waste to what he’d first heard in her voice, bleeding across his parents’ driveway. Terror.
He stalked to the side chair, picked up her jacket, and handed it to her. “We’ll do it your way for now. But that’s all I’ll promise.”
She nodded.
“Commander!”
The Judas Strain sf-4 Page 11