by John Lyman
“Dr. Vargas wants to see me in the command center. Let me know when we’re approaching the harbor.”
“Will do.” Alex brought the binoculars back up to his eyes and began scanning the horizon in front of the yacht.
Walking down the narrow hallway behind the bridge, Lev descended a short set of stairs to the command center. Once inside, he let his eyes adjust to the darkened space before taking a seat next to a frowning Evita Vargas as she peered at her glowing computer screen without looking up.
“What’s up, Evita?”
Evita nodded toward the computer. “I’m linked to Daniel’s computer in Israel. He was teaching me how to run skip sequences in the code when we found some phrases in Leviticus. The first thing we noticed was a name. I think you’ll find it very interesting.”
On the screen, Lev could see the name, Eduardo Acerbi, running in a horizontal line across the top of the page and circled in red.
“Eduardo’s been missing and presumed dead for almost forty years,” Evita continued. “Daniel and I were kind of hoping the code would give us some clue as to what happened to him. His son, Rene, is now in control of the Acerbi Corporation. Below Eduardo’s name, we found two more encoded words.”
Lev pulled his glasses down from his forehead and leaned in closer to the screen. The words dark guardian jumped out at him as a bead of sweat began to form on his brow.
Dark guardian of what? Visions of the dark forces they had all faced in the past flooded his mind. “Has Leo seen any of this yet?”
“No, I wanted to show it to you first, Professor. Evita gasped as she began pointing to her computer screen. “Look!”
With frightening clarity, another phrase appeared beneath Orsini—He will never wear the shoes of the fisherman.
“What does that mean?” Evita asked.
“It think we’ve just received confirmation that Orsini was never going to become the leader of the Church. The expression, shoes of the fisherman, is a reference to Saint Peter, the first pope. He was a fisherman, and all those who have followed in his footsteps are said to be walking in the shoes of the fisherman.”
Evita’s self-assured demeanor was rapidly evaporating. “I’m finding it hard to believe that the name of the cardinal who just died in the plane crash is actually encoded in the Bible!”
The computer program jumped to the next page as it continued to scan for hidden words and phrases. Both Lev and Evita physically jumped when they saw a new phrase suddenly pop up on the screen.
The evil one is near.
Evita was so shaken that she pushed herself away from the computer in an unconscious effort to get as far away from the words as she could. An icy chill ran down her back as she stared at the screen from a distance.
“Interesting,” Lev said.
“Interesting?” Evita was trembling. “The evil one is near? I’d say that was a little more than just interesting. Are you always so analytical, Professor?”
Lev cast a mischievous grin in her direction. “Only when I’m analyzing.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he saw that she was trembling. “I’m sorry, Evita. Would you like to take a break and go topside for some air?”
She looked at him as though he had just tossed an insult at her. “Of course not. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from this right now. I’ll be fine.”
Lev patted her on the shoulder and reached for the satellite phone to call the villa.
Daniel’s sleepy voice answered. “What gives, Professor?”
“Are you seeing all of this?”
“Yes, Dr. Vargas and I have our computers linked.”
“We need to combine the code with all incoming intelligence data, and since you have direct access to the mainframe computer at the villa, you’re in the best position to monitor both. I’m depending on you to be our canary in the coal mine if you spot any threats headed our way.”
“I understand, Professor.”
“Good, and keep an eye out for any new outbreaks of the virus. We’ll be arriving in Monaco within the hour.”
CHAPTER 27
Luxury high-rise apartment buildings overlooked the dazzling harbor of Monte Carlo where, every May, Formula 1 race cars from around the world gathered to chase each other through its fabled streets.
Stepping onto the dock, Alon and John made their way past an Olympic-sized swimming pool to the harbormaster’s office. After making arrangements for fuel, they headed across the famous tree-lined boulevard to a small sidewalk café. Within minutes, they were enjoying steaming cups of café au lait and buttery croissants, watching a parade of Ferraris and Lamborghinis as they sped past their outdoor table in a blur of color.
Surrounded by elegantly dressed people soaking up the sunshine at the nearby tables, Alon was beginning to feel a little underdressed. “Did Leo mention to you that Sarah disappeared from her hospital room in New York?”
“Only briefly. Do you think she was kidnapped?”
“No one knows. She just disappeared from her room and hasn’t been seen since. There are rumors that she is being kept against her will by government doctors at some secret lab. They must be very curious why she was the only one who became ill and survived. It’s also possible she just got scared and ran away and is hiding somewhere.”
“She would be a very valuable commodity, especially to the researchers trying to find a cure for the virus.”
“Or the people who engineered it in the first place,” Alon countered. “I heard Dr. Diaz say that these outbreaks have been kept small because those who created it are afraid the pathogen could mutate and affect everyone. A mutation could be the reason she survived, so I think they would be very interested in finding her ... if they haven’t already.”
“Dr. Diaz seems to know quite a bit about this pathogen.”
“He’s a molecular biologist, John. I think he knows a lot about viruses in general.”
“Yeah ... that would make sense, but there’s just something about the guy I can’t tag.”
“He’s kind of a loner, but I’ve met a lot of guys like him in the academic community. They just don’t have the capacity for small talk, but when they say something, you’d better listen.”
“True. I’m also starting to worry about Leo. I can tell that he’s having a hard time dealing with the fact that Sarah’s disappeared. He seems to clam up about things that are really bothering him.”
“I know. His mind has been somewhere else today. I guess the thought of what they might do to her is probably too horrible for him to think about ... much less talk about.”
“I wonder how she survived the virus. I mean, that’s really something to think about.”
“I’ll leave that to the scientists to figure out, but there is one thing I can tell you. We’ll be going after her. You can count on that.”
The theme song from Mission Impossible began playing in Alon’s pocket.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” John said. “Your ringtone is the theme from Mission Impossible?”
Alon grinned as he fumbled for his phone. “It’s one of my favorite movies ... seems kind of fitting right now.”
Alon answered and listened briefly before shoving the small phone back in his pocket. “We have to go ... now. They want us back on the yacht yesterday.”
“What’s up?”
“Alex didn’t say. He just said they wanted us back onboard ASAP.”
Alon tossed some Euros on the table before they both began dodging cars as they raced across the street to the dock. Running toward the yacht, they saw an official-looking vehicle drive away as Lev stood on the bridge and watched. He waved them up before disappearing back inside.
As soon as they arrived on the bridge, they saw the captain on the phone and felt the rumble from the engines below, signaling an imminent departure.
“Where’s Lev?”
Alex jerked his thumb back toward the navigation table around the corner. They could see that Leo and Lev were hastily poring over charts
with Moshe. Something was definitely up.
“What’s going on?”
Lev glanced up from his charts. “We’ve been ordered out of the harbor.”
“What?”
“The authorities here in Monaco were pretty tight-lipped in giving us a reason. They said something about being short on fuel and told us to leave.”
“John and I just spoke to the harbormaster. He said they had plenty of fuel.”
“We know. Something’s going on and they don’t want us here. They can do what they want ... it’s their harbor, but the Carmela’s never been turned away before ... anywhere.”
“What about the pathogen?” Alon asked. “Have there been any reports here locally?”
“Nothing.”
Moshe was twirling one end of his moustache. “It’s possible they believe we’ve come into contact with the virus, but whatever the reason, we’ve touched a nerve somewhere and they want us out of here.”
“This place is a haven for international yachts,” Alon said. “A lot of very powerful people live here ... rich people with influence ...” Alon’s voice trailed off when he realized the significance of his last statement.
Lev looked up from his charts. “Exactly ... rich people with influence, and some of them don’t want us here for some reason.”
“What are we going to do?”
Alex flicked a switch on the console. “We’re leaving.”
“Where to ... Israel?”
Lev looked out through the expansive windows at the dazzling harbor of Monte Carlo before answering. “No ... we’re going back to Spain.”
CHAPTER 28
Fourteen hours after they had eased away from the dock at Monaco, the Carmela glided into the harbor at El Port De La Selva and dropped anchor.
Below decks, Lev was lowering the yacht’s large stern door down into the water when Moshe came running down into the aft compartment, waving a sheet of paper.
“The pathogen!”
Lev froze. Moshe looked frightened. Moshe never looked frightened ... about anything.
“It’s a bulletin from the World Health Organization. The virus ... it’s popping up all over the world! All commercial aircraft have now been permanently grounded, and every seaport in the world has suspended their shipping operations. The world is shutting down.”
Lev lit a cigar and watched the smoke drift out over the water. “I’ve had a feeling all along that this was coming. Call Daniel at the villa and tell him to have the staff seal all the entrances and double security ... and lock down the boat. Don’t let anyone go ashore.”
“What about the Spanish scientists?”
“They can go if they want, but they have to understand that if they decide to go they won’t be allowed back onboard.”
“I’ll tell them.”
The two men crossed the compartment’s aluminum grating and climbed the stairs to the main deck. “Where is everyone?” Lev asked.
“I believe they’re all gathering in the command center.”
A sudden, ear-splitting blast from a siren startled both men as a patrol boat from the Spanish Navy motored up next to the yacht. Standing on the bow, they saw a white-uniformed officer holding a megaphone in his hand as he braced himself against a large deck-mounted gun.
“Ahoy there on the Carmela.” The Spanish naval officer waved and tried to remain upright on the rolling deck of his boat. “We’ve been ordered to inform all boats in the harbor that they are now under quarantine. You may anchor here, but no one will be allowed to come ashore. There will be no exceptions. Anyone trying to land on Spanish soil will be arrested and sent to a quarantine camp. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, but these are emergency measures and will be strictly enforced. Spain’s borders are now closed until further notice.”
The young officer managed an apologetic smile before the patrol boat turned and sped away toward a large ship entering the harbor.
“This kind of changes things,” Moshe said.
Lev puffed on his cigar as he watched the navy boat grow smaller in the distance. “Yes, it does.”
The two men looked at one another—two old warriors who had seen combat together more times than they could remember. Lev calmly snuffed out his cigar before both men trudged up to the command center. Once inside, they immediately spotted the small red dots lighting up all over the large, multi-colored electronic map of the world above their heads.
“I assume those dots indicate the spread of the pathogen?” Lev said.
Holding a phone in each hand, the female communications officer looked back over her shoulder. “Yes, sir. The computer is automatically updating the display as we receive new information. I have the Vatican on line one and the command center at the villa is on the sat phone. I could use a little help here.” She shoved the ship-to-shore radio phone into Lev’s hand.
“Hello ...”
“Lev ... is that you?” It was the voice of Bishop Morelli.
“Yes, Anthony. What’s happening in Rome?”
“Nothing right now. We think that Rome and the parts of Italy that have already been hit by the pathogen are probably safe from this new outbreak, but we’re not taking any chances. People have been told to remain in their homes for now.”
“Has there been even a hint about where this virus is coming from or how it targets its victims?”
“Nothing. It’s like a gigantic black hole. The pope’s been in contact with scientists from all over the world, and they’re totally stumped.”
“The way this thing is behaving, it’s got to be DNA based,” Lev said.
“Have the Spanish scientists come up with anything new?”
“For now we’re all staying with the DNA angle while we look for a source. So far, it looks like both our immunity and our vulnerability to the pathogen are somehow linked to our genes.”
“Sounds like a workable hypothesis, Professor, but if it is DNA based there doesn’t appear to be any commonality to the way it’s spreading. It’s crossing all ethnic lines equally.”
“We’re starting to lose our satellite connection, Anthony. We’ll stay in contact and let you know how things are progressing. I’ll call you back later today. Take care, old friend.”
Lev pushed the off button and looked around the command center. “We’ve got to get off this boat.”
Alon stopped what he was doing and stared at him with his mouth hanging open. What was he thinking? “I hate to state the obvious, Professor, but this is probably one of the safest places in the world to be right now.”
Ariella nodded her head. “Alon’s right, Daddy. Besides, the Spanish authorities won’t let us go ashore.”
Lev held up his hands in the face of the rising protests. “Everyone, just hear me out. No one knows how long this will go on. Our ability to remain mobile and independent is determined by the amount of fuel we carry, and due to the fact that we were unable to refuel the yacht in Monaco or here in Spain, we don’t have enough diesel fuel left to return to Israel. Also, because of the quarantine, we can’t resupply the vessel with fresh food or water here, so at best we only have a few weeks of supplies left before we run out.”
The room grew quiet with the realization that Lev was right. They were prevented from going ashore or returning home, and soon, they would be on a floating steel island with no food or water.
“What about Italy?” Leo asked. “I’ll notify ...”
A buzz indicating an incoming call on the secure line prompted Lev to reach for the red phone on the console. After listening briefly to the caller, he replaced the receiver and looked around the room.
“I believe the question of where we must go has just been answered. I’ve just received word from Mossad headquarters in Tel Aviv that Sarah is in France ... at Acerbi’s Chateau in the Loire Valley.”
* *
Without being asked, the communications officer brought a map of France up on the main screen.
“Are you sure she’s there?” Leo asked.
“Yes. My contact in Israeli intelligence wouldn’t divulge his source, but he assured me the information is solid. He said Sarah was flown to France on a private jet leased by a dummy corporation belonging to an attorney who works for Acerbi. Evidently, this guy Acerbi has several fictitious shell companies spread around the world to cover his tracks.”
“Just where in France are we headed?”
“Do you remember that compound I told you about earlier ... the one in the French countryside near Carcassonne?”
“The hippies?”
Lev smiled. “They just look like hippies. It’s about two-hundred miles south of the Loire Valley. It will make a perfect staging area for a rescue attempt.”
“We still have to take into account the fact that the French authorities have also closed their borders, and that we’ll be faced with the same greeting we received here, or worse.”
“There are ways around these things.”
“Even so, I don’t think a survivalist-minded group of people who’ve taken the time to build a self-sufficient compound will be too excited about letting a bunch of strangers just walk onto their farm and potentially expose all of them to a lethal pathogen.”
Lev’s eyes telegraphed the fact that he had already formed a plan in his mind. “I guess I forgot to mention something to you about the compound in France ... I own it.”
Leo was becoming exasperated by Lev Wasserman’s tendency to reveal things at the last moment. He had to keep reminding himself that Lev had spent a large portion of his life working with the Israeli intelligence community, so it was natural that he would tend to withhold operational details of things he was planning until the last minute.
“Go ahead, Lev. Let’s hear the rest of it.”
“That land once belonged to my family before they were uprooted by the Holocaust. After the war, my mother and father fled to Palestine to build a new life for themselves in Israel. Before he died, I promised my father that I would buy the land back one day and rebuild the farm for future generations of our family. A few years ago the opportunity presented itself, so I purchased the property and brought the old farm back to life, but I also had another motive. We needed another home base like the one we have in Israel in case things got out of hand in the Middle East.”