Dananka pressed the surveillance receiver firmly against his ear. He hated this kind of wait and watch bullshit. His talent lay in other directions. Someone else should have been assigned to do this crap job of monitoring Cathy Bryson's incoming calls. All he'd been getting was PTA meeting junk and bereavement calls telling her what a great guy her husband had been.
Another call.
He looked down at his ID box. No ID.
Telemarketer?
"Cathy?"
"My God, Hannah. Why haven't you called me before? I've been worried sick. Are you okay?"
Dananka sat up straight in the seat. Fucking jackpot.
"As okay as I can be considering."
"Considering what?"
"Let's skip it. How are you and the kids?"
"Fine. I'm a little on edge, so I sent the kids to Miriam Frey's for a couple days. Ronnie's best friend is her son, Bobby." She paused. "Hannah, you have to let George help you. This Kirov is bad news."
"Tell me about it," Hannah said grimly. "He doesn't care whether I live or die as long as he gets that other plate."
"What other plate? You told me Pavski had stolen everything you found."
"It was safer for you that way."
"Hannah, damn you."
"It wasn't actually etched on those plates. Evidently Heiser had run out of time or was interrupted or was getting sicker and had to go to his cabin to etch those final coordinates on a plate. I found it behind the desk in the captain's quarters when I went back with Kirov."
"Then give it to Bradworth."
"Not possible. I threw it overboard."
"What?"
"Don't act so shocked. I don't trust Bradworth, and I don't trust Kirov. I wasn't going to let either one of them have it. What if they decided to forget about Pavski and walk away? I can remember and reconstruct the plate if I have to do it."
"And Kirov knows about the plate?"
"He was on the sub when I found it. He was mad as hell when he saw me toss it into the sea. He's been coercing me to do the reconstruction since he saw me drop it overboard. I told him I'd re-create that plate if he gave me Pavski's head." She paused. "But my time's running out. Kirov would as soon break my neck as look at me."
"Give him the plate. Then we'll call Bradworth to rein him in."
"Like hell I will. I'm not giving Kirov anything. He could have saved Conner and didn't do it," Hannah said. "He's on his way back to the sub to see if he can do some scuba diving and resurrect it."
"Is that possible?"
"How do I know? Probably. The seas are relatively quiet in the harbor, and the depth isn't extreme. But at least he's off my back. With any luck, Pavski will stick a shark spear in him. I don't give a damn about the plate." She added wearily, "The only thing that matters to me are you and the kids. The reason I called you is to tell you that I want you to sit tight and be careful. There's no telling what Kirov will do if he doesn't find that plate. He believes he can draw out Pavski with the damn thing."
"Can he?"
"Maybe. I'm flying up this afternoon to check and see if he's managed to find it."
"Call me back," Cathy said. "I worry about you, blast it."
"I'll call when I can." Hannah Bryson hung up.
Dananka was already busily working at his board verifying the number and model of her cell phone. After 9/11 the FCC required all carriers to have the ability to trace calls on cell phones to a hundred meters or less. That meant every cell phone had a built-in GPS that could be tapped given the right circumstances. He sent a tracer to check the nearest tower, and then initiated the access-tracking map device. Two minutes later he had her pinpointed on the map.
"Got you, bitch."
He reached for his phone and called Pavski.
Hannah turned to Kirov. "What do you think?"
"If Pavski's man isn't a complete amateur, he has your phone tagged and will be able to follow you to hell and back." Kirov smiled. "Or preferably just to hell. End of story." He stood aside for her to board the helicopter. "If not, you'll have to make another phone call."
"I stayed on the phone as long as you told me."
"And were suitably insulting." He motioned for the pilot to start the engine. "Was the release of all that suppressed hostility satisfying?"
She shot him a sidewise glance. "Perhaps."
"Well, let's hope you were convincing."
"Do you think Pavski will go for it?"
"Good chance. He has a chance to kill me and get the plate. Or as an alternate, he has a chance to scoop you up and force you to recreate the plate. As far as he's concerned, it's all good." He glanced at his watch. "We should be in Rock Bay Harbor in an hour. My bet is Pavski will be hot on our heels."
The signal on her phone indicates she's heading north," Dananka said. "She's going to the sub. What do I do? Follow her in the helicopter?"
Pavski thought about it. Excitement was tearing through him. Jesus, it was all coming together. He'd known that Cathy Bryson would be the key. "No, you stay here. I'll take Koppel and the two new men, Lepin and Norzalk. I have something else for you to do."
"What?"
"We may have to have leverage if I don't find that plate. Go after the children." He rose to his feet. "And I need at least one of them alive, Dananka."
"Only one?"
"Use your own judgment. I wouldn't mind you showing Hannah Bryson what to expect if she doesn't cooperate." He hung up and moved toward the door.
The Golden Cradle was shimmering in the distance, but it was getting nearer and nearer.
Almost in his hands, almost here…
NINETEEN
MIDIA, TURKEY
Where the hell was that statue? Eugenia wondered impatiently. It had to be here. She'd gotten vague directions from the head of the artist colony in Athens, but his information had been entered in their directory in 1937, and the statue could have crumbled into dust in that time. No, the torn and faded brochure she'd picked up on the porch of the tourist agency had listed it as the gem of their historical collection.
Some gem, she thought. This tiny park in the middle of town that was supposed to house the tribute to the Argonauts was deserted and overgrown. She doubted if anyone came here anymore, including passing tourists. One look at this tangle of brush, and they would pass on to greener pastures, or maybe that more welcoming coffeehouse down the street.
She shone the beam of her flashlight around the area in front of her. More overgrown brush and low-hanging branches. How could she find the damn-
There it was!
A glimpse of gray stone in the depths of green foliage in the path to the left.
She moved forward eagerly. No, not smart. She cautiously slowed her pace. This park might not be as deserted as it seemed. Danzyl might have made the connection too.
She played the beam around the surrounding area as she went toward the statue.
No sign of anyone.
No movement in the brush.
No sound…
Okay, but that didn't mean Danzyl might not be on her heels. Take the picture and get out.
She shined the flashlight on the statue. Jason with his arm raised in triumph, holding the Golden Fleece.
She took the picture and lowered the beam to the base. The same symbol that was on the other statue and another inscription. She took the picture of it and moved closer to get a better shot.
A rustle in the bushes to the left…
She dove forward and hit the ground rolling.
A bullet struck the ground next to her.
Jesus, she was a sitting duck.
She rolled behind the statue and got to her knees.
The stone splintered as a bullet struck the statue beside her head.
But she had a fix on where the bullet came from now.
Don't move, you son of bitch, she entreated silently. Just let me get one shot before you come in for the kill.
Another shot. From the same direction.
Yes!
/>
She sprayed the area with a barrage of four bullets.
She waited.
No return fire.
Had she gotten him? Or was it a trick?
She waited.
Okay, go in and see for yourself.
She carefully moved to the other side of the statue and dove into the brush.
She lay there, breathing shallowly, listening.
Nothing.
She scouted around the underbrush toward the bush from where the gunfire had come.
Blood, dark and gleaming in the moonlight as it ran from behind the bush toward the path.
But blood didn't always mean dead.
But this time it did.
Danzyl was lying on his side with a bullet in his temple and another in his throat.
Lucky. Those had been lucky shots.
But how lucky had she been? Had Danzyl been here before she had arrived, or had he come right behind her? One way to tell.
She searched his pocket and pulled out his picture cell phone.
She searched his cell phone memory.
"Shit!"
Photo transmitted.
BOSTON
7:32 P.M.
According to the information Dananka was able to pull out of his computer, Miriam Frey was divorced, in her early forties, and lived alone with her son in a two-story house in a small subdivision twenty minutes from Cathy Bryson's home. Neither she nor her ex-husband had ever registered a firearm. Perfect.
He could already see how this would play out. The maternal instinct would destroy this woman. She would neglect her own safety for that of two children who weren't even hers. He'd seen it happen too many times. It would be a simple matter to dispatch her, scoop up the kids, and get the hell away. In and out in less than ten minutes.
He parked beside the detached garage and crept toward the back windows. A TV blared from the living room. He peered inside and saw a children's cartoon playing on the screen.
But no Miriam Frey, no kids.
He looked up at the second floor. Two lights upstairs-a bedroom and bath, he guessed. Bedtime for the kiddies?
He checked the back door. Locked, and he spotted a cheap alarm system wiring the door. It took him a few more minutes disabling it.
He was in the house.
He pulled out his automatic and moved quietly through the kitchen.
Thump.
Thump.
It came from upstairs. He cocked his head, listening.
Thump.
He smiled. I'm on my way, young ones…
He slowly climbed the stairs.
Thump.
Running water in the bathroom. Ah, of course. Bath time.
The thumping came from the same place.
He moved down the hallway to the open door of the bathroom.
The bathtub water was running, but the small room was empty. He stepped closer to the tub.
Thump. Thump.
He finally saw the noise's source. A battery operated floating duck, repeatedly ramming itself against the tub's inner wall.
No one here. They must all be in the bedroom.
He turned toward the doorway.
Thump. Thump.
Those two sounded… different.
Pain. He went cold and couldn't move. His breath left him. His gun slipped from his numb fingers.
What the hell?
He glanced down. Two red stains were spreading across his chest.
The door of the linen closet swung wide. A man stood there holding a smoking gun equipped with a silencer. Bradworth. It was Bradworth. He smiled. "One last wish for a happy afterlife?"
Dananka's last memory was the flash as he raised the muzzle and the dull sound that came with it.
Thump.
Good riddance.
Bradworth ran down the steps to the basement.
"It's all right, Preston," he said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Except for the cleanup. How are the kids?"
He nodded at the two children, who were huddled over a game table with Miriam Frey. "Playing checkers and complaining because there's no TV down here." He paused. "I'm sorry you had to be involved, Bradworth."
"I didn't do it for you. I did it for Kirov. He made me a deal." He looked at the kids. "And for them. I've got a couple kids myself that I don't get to see near enough. The helpless have more rights than the rest of us. I have no problem killing filth who go after children." He turned to go back upstairs. "I'm calling a mop-up squad and telling them to get out here and get rid of that body. It's not something the kids should see."
"Could I help?" Preston asked. "It would be good to do something besides act as babysitter."
He gave him a cool glance. "I was wondering whether I should let you do that. But I wouldn't have found you here yourself mounting guard if you were a Judas. You'd have wanted clean hands."
"I didn't like the idea of sending away those guards."
"If he'd seen we had security, it would have tipped him, and he would have called Pavski. This way we had only one scumbag to eliminate. No problem."
His lips twisted as he looked down at his hands. "Clean hands. Instead, I let you get yours dirty."
"It doesn't matter. Vermin have to be smashed." He shrugged as he started up the stairs. "And this time I got to be Superman, saving the world. That's not half-bad."
Kirov's phone rang as they were getting in the rental car waiting at the small airport at Rock Bay Harbor.
He glanced at the ID. "Bradworth." He listened for a moment. "Thanks, Bradworth. No, I won't tell you what I'm doing. Yes, I know I owe you. I'm sure you're not going to let me forget it." He hung up and turned to Hannah. "Pavski sent one of his goons after the kids, but they're safe now. He said Preston turned out to be legitimate."
"Good." She added, "And if Pavski heard where the kids were being kept, then he must have bought the telephone call to Cathy. He knows where we're headed. He'll take the bait."
"I can hear him snapping now…" Kirov murmured as he started the car.
The phone rang again when he was only a block away from the airport. Eugenia. This time he put it on speaker.
"I've sent you a photo of the second statue," Eugenia said quickly. "It was a statue of Jason holding high the fleece. On the base it had the same symbol and the inscription read. Journey forth but always seek within to find the true treasure." She paused. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get Danzyl in time. He transmitted a photo of the statue to Pavski. He probably has it now. How bad could it be? That one line doesn't seem to mean much."
"I don't know. Don't worry. Get the hell out of there. You've done your job." He hung up the phone. "Let's just hope that picture doesn't trigger anything for Pavski. We don't want him distracted."
"I don't see how it could." She frowned. "Let's see. The line on the first statue was Look not for riches on the surface of life. On the second Journey forth, but always seek within to find the true treasure. Eugenia was right, it's not much to work with. I can't see how Heiser could think his father would…" She trailed off. "My God."
Kirov glanced sharply at her. "What?"
"Where are my charts I made of those plates?"
"In my duffel in the backseat. Why?"
She was on her knees and grabbing the duffel. "I need to look at them." She unzipped the duffel and rummaged until she found the tube of rolled-up stationery. "I think I may-" She broke off as she saw something in the bottom of the duffel. "Dynamite?"
He shrugged. "You can never tell when you might want to toss a few sticks at the undesirable elements we seem to be encountering."
"Where did you get it?" She answered her own question. "Niler's place. You certainly didn't limit yourself to what you needed in Florida. You must have snagged all he had."
"I figured he wouldn't need it. Though I had to use a private jet to avoid security." He changed the subject. "Why do you need the charts?"
"I need to check the third plate for the destination. Could it be close to Midia?"
"That used to be Thrace, didn't it?"
He nodded.
"Then it could be…" Excitement was mounting, growing with every second. "Look, in the legend, the Argonauts had to travel to Thrace for Phineas to tell them how to get the treasure. On the back of those bulkhead plates, Heiser's coordinates lead to what used to be Thrace. What if that's where we need to go to get the location of this treasure, too? But in this case, it's the Silent Thunder that will tell us."
His eyes were narrowed on her face. "Go on."
"Think about it. Heiser was a computer genius, and you said he was a master of that navigation system. It's not too far-fetched to think that he may have buried some lines of code in there to display a message that reveals itself only when triggered by a specific event."
Kirov nodded slowly. "An event like the sub's compass registering the set of coordinates noted on the bulkhead plates?"
She nodded. "The Argo had to go to Midia to find the Golden Fleece. Heiser leaves a map next to Silent Thunder's navigational computer that leads to the exact same place." She drew a deep breath. "But he wasn't sure his father would get it. His father wasn't a sailor, he was a professor of literature. He didn't think the same way. So he dredged up those memories from his childhood to let him know that those plates weren't the answer. He was to journey forth, but he had to look within for the answer."
"Within the navigation computer."
"I think I'm right, Kirov," she said eagerly. "I think I can find it."
"If we have time." He grimaced. "I could have wished we'd figured this out before we deliberately set Pavski to follow us to the sub."
"Just get me there. I'll pull out the information, and we can make sure Pavski can't get into the computer. We can't take a chance on that happening. What if there's a screwup? What if he somehow manages to get away? You said he'd done it before." Her hands clenched. "Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe he won't figure it out."
"You did. All you needed was that final clue to nudge you. Pavski's very smart. He has the plates. He has the inscription Danzyl sent. He's been thinking of nothing but a way to get that cradle all his life. We'd have to be damn lucky."
"I won't let him get his hands on it, Kirov," she said fiercely. "Not for a second. He killed my brother to get it. He's not going to have it."
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