Alexander wore a funny grin. “I do.”
“Perhaps the stories are a warning,” Davidson said, “to not use the life imbuing language?”
King and Alexander glanced at each other. Given what they knew, it seemed a likely scenario.
Davidson saw the look they shared. He sat up straight. “You’ve discovered this language, haven’t you?”
“No,” King said.
“We’re just researching the idea,” Alexander added quickly.
“For a movie.”
This last statement totally deflated Davidson’s excitement. He was about to ask them to leave when King’s phone rang. He answered the phone, “I’m here.”
“We found Ridley,” Duncan said on the other end.
“Where?”
“London. Security camera caught a glimpse of him at Heathrow Airport.”
“Was Fiona with him?”
“She’s not in the shot, but that doesn’t mean—”
“I know. And it doesn’t matter. We’re going to London.”
“I have every available resource tracking him. Call me when you land.”
“Will do.” King hung up the phone and looked at Alexander. “He’s in London.”
Both men stood. Alexander opened the door to leave. Davidson stopped them with a clearing of his throat. “Who’s in London?”
“Brad Pitt. Thanks for your help,” King said, then exited the room.
The professor, who now wore a broad smile, said, “If you see the press on your way down, send them up.”
King stopped and leaned back into the office. Something about Davidson expecting press coverage put him on edge. “You never did mention why the press was coming to see you today.”
“I published my theory. Null physics and the Spoken Creation. Technion put out a press release yesterday. I’m giving a speech on the topic in”—he looked at his watch, his eyes widening—“forty-five minutes.”
King tensed. If Davidson had made his theory public and Ridley discovered it, he would instantly see where the research would eventually lead. He had already wiped out every ancient language that might be used to reproduce the so-called language of God. But if modern science were to uncover the language again by studying the effects of sound on the environment, then …
Davidson saw King’s sour expression. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid you may have painted a very large target on your—”
Movement outside the large office window caught King’s attention. The metal obelisk that had been standing outside was hurtling toward the office like a spear.
“Get down!” King shouted, diving for the professor.
A second later the obelisk crashed through the window with the force of a wrecking ball.
FORTY-ONE
Washington, D.C.
TOM DUNCAN SAT behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office. His suit coat hung over the back of his chair, his sleeves were rolled up, and his tie dangled loosely. He looked like any other hardworking president, except for the fact that he was leaning back in the chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. For all the power his office granted him, he found himself momentarily immobilized. As the eyes of the world watched his every act outside the rounded walls of the Oval Office, scrutinized every word, every inflection of his voice, every facial expression—looking for a flaw—inaction became the safest course of conduct. With the wolves circling and out for blood, anything he did might make them attack.
What made this hard for Duncan was that he was also a wolf. As a former Army Ranger he excelled when in the movement. As president he applied his energy to the challenges faced by the country, and as Deep Blue, he focused his military mind on the Chess Team’s missions. But now he could only monitor and advise. A deeper involvement could expose and endanger the team. The Chess Team was hidden but not buried, not black. There had been no reason to hide their existence from the government he ran. But now …
The time for a new direction, a new plan, was upon him.
Hard choices and big changes needed to be made.
So he retreated to his office, cleared his mind of the media, of Marrs, and searched for solutions.
Before he could focus his thoughts, the phone on his desk rang. Its digital chime didn’t get a chance to finish as Duncan sat up and hit the speakerphone button. The White House switchboard had been given strict instructions to allow calls from a very short list of people through, each with a unique ring. This one belonged to Dominick Boucher.
“What’ve you got?”
“I’m faxing it over now.”
The full-color fax machine behind the desk blinked as the incoming file transferred.
“Is this about Ridley?”
“Yes sir,” Boucher said. “Two major developments. He rented a gold Peugeot 307 Cabriolet from Europcar at Heathrow. Europcar GPS chips all their cars and we tracked it to Wiltshire County.”
Duncan recognized the name. He’d been there once, in college, as a backpacking tourist. “Stonehenge?”
“We believe so, yes.”
“But why?”
“I couldn’t tell you that for sure, but if he’s interested in ancient languages, perhaps there is more to Stonehenge than we know. Something that hasn’t been uncovered yet. The site is incredibly old and we know very little about the people who built it. Whatever it is must be important because he’s taking bold risks to get it.”
“Are Queen, Bishop, and Knight ready to go?” Duncan asked. Keasling was on the task of debriefing and briefing the team, getting them geared up and ready to drop wherever King needed them.
“Well, that’s why I’m sending the fax. Development number two. I’m not sure we should send them to King.”
Duncan’s forehead scrunched. He looked at the fax machine. What is Boucher sending?
The gears of the fax machine finally kicked in, sending a single piece of paper through and coating it with hot toner. An eight-by-ten photo rolled out. Duncan snatched it up. A couple dressed in tank top vests and cargo shorts appropriate for warm weather archaeology smiled for the camera. Behind them were groups of people—locals, interns, and other science types—milling about. And in the background was what looked like a very large, very old staircase partially covered by vegetation and snaking tree roots.
“What am I looking at?”
“The photo was uploaded to Flickr an hour ago, and you can see in the bottom right the date stamp is today. So this is fresh. The structure in the background is la Danta Pyramid in El Mirador, Guatemala—the largest ever built by the Maya, and even bigger than the great Cheops pyramid at Giza.”
“That’s all well and good, Dom, but what’s the significance.”
“I don’t want to tell you what to see, in case we’re wrong. I want you to—”
“What the hell,” Duncan whispered as he saw a familiar face in the image. The man was walking behind the couple, carrying a backpack. No one paid him any attention. He wore the same comfortable smile he did in the brochures his company had published. But his presence in the image made no sense. How could Richard Ridley be in England and Guatemala at the same time?
“I take it you found him?”
“How’s this possible, Dom?”
“I’m afraid that’s a question your team is best suited to answer, but his presence at both locations, as impossible as it seems, solidifies his apparent interest in ancient sites around the world. Shall I divert Queen, Bishop, and Knight to Guatemala?”
“Do it,” Duncan said. “I’ll inform King.”
FORTY-TWO
Haifa, Israel
A STREAM OF Hebrew curses flew from Davidson’s mouth as he lay beneath King on the floor of his office. Their bodies were coated in glass and plaster from the ruined ceiling. But it wasn’t the destroyed office that held either man’s attention, it was the glistening metal lance tip that had stabbed through the window and far wall. Twenty feet of stainless steel separated into vertical ribs that normally made the struc
ture appear to be rotating, had impaled the building.
On his back, staring up at the glistening structure, Davidson recognized what it was. “It’s the obelisk.”
Alexander reached a hand beneath Davidson’s desk. “Take my hand.”
Davidson reached out and was snagged by Alexander, who easily pulled the physicist out of harm’s way and into the hallway. King crawled out behind him and stood in what little remained of the office. He instinctually reached for his weapon before remembering he was unarmed.
Shuffling forward through the sea of glass, he chanced a peek out of the window. While twenty feet of the obelisk had impaled the building, its remaining sixty-two feet were jutting out the side, like a giant spear. A large chunk of concrete clung to the end, where it had been ripped out of the ground. Gravity began to work on the protruding end, pulling it down. The force both bent the obelisk and caused the tip to tear into the ceiling. Flakes of plaster crumbled down on King’s head.
“I don’t understand,” Davidson said with a shaky voice. “Why would someone want to destroy the obelisk?”
“They weren’t trying to destroy the tower,” Alexander said.
Davidson fell silent, wondering what he meant.
“I didn’t see anything outside,” King said.
Alexander twisted his lips. “They’ve most likely assumed he’s dead.”
King agreed, but he knew they were far from safe. “They’ll check to be sure.”
“What are you talking about?” Davidson shouted. “Who are ‘they’ and who will they assume is dead?”
King reached down and pulled Davidson to his feet. “I was trying to tell you before, Professor. You’re a target now.”
The man’s eyes went wide behind his thick glasses, but not from King’s statement. He was looking beyond King, down the hallway. King spun and saw what appeared to be a large reptile. Something about it seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it. The creature was built similarly to a komodo dragon, but its back was tan with brown stripes and its underbelly was white. Aside from its eight-foot length, sharp teeth, and clawed toes, what bothered King the most was the look of menace mixed with intelligence in its eyes.
A long forked tongue flicked out of its mouth—tasting them from a distance. Knowing it was here for Davidson, King looked for an escape route. The only door between them and the lizard was another office. The hallway behind them was blocked by the obelisk.
As a breeze tickled King’s cheek he turned toward the broken window. The ribbed obelisk continued its slow bend toward the ground five stories below. It was the only way out.
He turned to Alexander. “Take him through the window.”
“I’ll fight the beast,” Alexander replied, rolling up his sleeves.
“Sorry, Herc,” King replied. “I’m not strong enough to carry him.”
Davidson blanched. “Carry me?”
Alexander grunted in defeat, then took Davidson and slung him over his shoulder. “See you in Elysian Fields, King.” Then he was moving. He ran through the destroyed office and leaped out of the window. Davidson screamed the entire way until Alexander took hold of one of the stainless-steel ribs and swung them atop the structure.
King turned back to the lizard and shouted. It had already charged, moving silently over the linoleum floor. As it reared up to strike, King saw its claws, retracted for silent movement, reemerge and swipe toward his neck.
King ducked the blow and sidestepped, allowing the creature’s momentum to carry it past him and into the obelisk. It struck with a force that reverberated through the entire structure.
Alexander stumbled, still holding Davidson over his shoulder. He managed to remain upright and continued moving toward the slowly lowering base.
Unsure of how to fight the giant reptile, King struck out with a hard kick to its back, hoping to break its spine. But the string of vertebrae simply flexed with the impact and then pushed back. King fell to the hallway floor. As he righted himself, the lizard hissed at him and then bolted into the office. Despite King’s attack, the lizard only had eyes for its target.
Davidson.
King scrambled to his feet and gave chase. As the creature climbed onto the obelisk, King dove out, snagging its tail. The lizard lurched back, unable to pull King along with it. With one arm wrapped around the thick, but stubby tail, King reached out with his free hand and picked up a shard of glass. He swung it high and stabbed it into the beast’s lower back, slicing open his hand in the process.
The creature wailed and violently shook its back end. King thought the lizard was trying to shake him free, but as he fell to the floor, still holding the tail, he realized it had shed its tail. The open wound where the creature’s tail used to be oozed a few drops of blood and then dried. Like many lizards in the world, this one could shed its tail to distract predators while it escaped. But King wanted nothing to do with the still wriggling tail in his hands.
As the lizard ran out the window, he climbed on to the obelisk and gave chase.
Davidson let out a shout when the monster appeared behind them, its legs flailing out to each side as it charged down the obelisk. His shout was cut off as Alexander’s shoulder rammed his gut. Had there been any air left in him, he would have screamed again as he and Alexander went airborne.
Alexander leaped into the air, landing on the concrete base of the obelisk, sixty-two feet from the physics building. The sudden weight sped the obelisk’s descent. But not fast enough. The lizard was nearly upon them.
King shouted at the beast as he pursued from behind, but his hurled words did little to slow it down. He wouldn’t reach them in time. Alexander was on his own.
Turning to face the creature, Alexander showed no fear for his life, but without knowing the creature’s capabilities he wasn’t sure if he could protect Davidson. But he didn’t have to. Gravity provided a temporary solution as, fifteen feet from the ground, the obelisk finally gave way and bent quickly. Just before the base struck the cobbled walkway that stretched up the center of the Technion campus, Alexander jumped away with Davidson. The pair fell five feet and rolled away from the concrete base as it crashed into the hard ground.
The obelisk’s impact shook the structure, bouncing the lizard into the air. It landed on its side, and then slid off the edge, falling ten feet to the ground.
When the obelisk dropped away beneath King, he fell forward. Pain pulsed through his body when he landed on his stomach. Now lying on the obelisk, his descent didn’t slow. The steep incline pulled him over the smooth metal ribs like it was a giant slide. Using his hands to keep himself centered, King left a smear of red behind him—blood from his wounded hand.
He saw Alexander take off running with Davidson still over his shoulder. He was headed to a nearby construction site where piles of sand and stacks of cement bags waited to form the foundation of a new building. A moment later, the giant lizard lunged after them. It moved swiftly, but seemed slightly off balance, perhaps from the fall or because of its missing tail.
King rolled onto the cobbled walkway and onto his feet, giving chase. He could see Alexander and Davidson in front of the lizard, and the construction site beyond. Seeing the sand triggered his memory. He’d seen something like this before, only small enough to hold in his hand. It was a sandfish, a species of skink native to Iraq. While on a stakeout in Iraq, before being assigned to the Chess Team, he had watched the small creatures and marveled at their abilities.
That’s why he knew, without a doubt, that sand was the wrong place to be with a killer sandfish.
* * *
THE CONSTRUCTION SITE was a labyrinth of building materials and equipment. Alexander ran through the maze, not just searching for a way through, but also for the perfect place to stop. He found it between two stacks of cement bags. The bottleneck would allow him to confront the lizard head on, and hopefully give Davidson enough time to make his escape.
He skidded to a stop, his feet sliding through the deep sand covering the c
onstruction site. He put Davidson down. The man was panicked and clung to Alexander’s back like a child not wanting to be separated from its mother. He’d seen the beast behind them and feeling his legs go wobbly beneath him, knew he couldn’t outrun it.
“Why are you putting me down? Keep running!”
Alexander pushed him away. “You go. I’ll stop it.”
“But—”
“Go!”
The look in Alexander’s eyes and the boom of his voice triggered Davidson’s feet. He bolted deeper into the construction site. Though he quickly disappeared from view, his high-pitched squeaking breaths could be easily tracked, and Alexander had no doubt the creature would be able to follow his scent as well. The man was oozing fear pheromones.
Then the creature appeared. Thirty feet away. It paused on the sand, flicking out its tongue.
When it charged, the lizard didn’t focus on Alexander’s head, or torso, or any other vital location a predator might strike. Instead, it was looking down, at his feet.
Not at my feet, Alexander thought. In front of them.
Before he could figure out the meaning of the charging lizard’s strange attack, it leaped into the air. Alexander raised a fist to strike the beast’s head, but never got a chance to swing. The lizard arched its back and began a face-first descent toward the sandy ground. Its body began wriggling back and forth, slowly at first, then building in speed until almost a blur.
It struck the sand like an Olympic diver, and just as gracefully disappeared into the sand as though it were liquid. Alexander felt a slight undulation beneath his feet.
The lizard had passed beneath him!
He spun around and saw the creature emerge from the sand twenty feet away. Without pause, it continued in its relentless pursuit of Davidson. Alexander gave chase, fueled by his anger at being outsmarted by an oversized reptile.
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