It Takes a Thief

by Liz Wolfe

  “You should eat,” Vito said. “You are too thin.”

  Mussad smiled at his father, even though it was an effort, and tried to keep the disgust off his face as he watched his rotund father shovel the sausages and eggs into his mouth. Obviously his father had never been taught to stop eating before he was truly full. And of course, he was eating pork and drinking coffee, both of which were haram, forbidden. Mussad was reluctant to eat the eggs, in case they had touched the sausage,thus rendering them haram, as well. But the eggs were in a separate serving dish, so he spooned some onto his plate and took a slice of toast.

  “How is your work, Father?” Mussad asked in English.

  Vito set his fork down. “I would prefer you speak our native language.”

  “I am sorry, Father. I remember very little of our language.” Mussad was proud that he didn’t choke on the lie. “I thought it would be easier for us to use English. I know you are fluent in that language, as well.”

  Vito grunted. “My work goes very well. Senator Hemings will become president of the United States in a month. It is a huge benefit to the Order.”

  “I’m surprised he won the election. I didn’t realize he had that much support. Unusual for a black man. How is his election a benefit to the Order?”

  “Senator Hemings is a member of the Order.”

  Mussad looked up at his father. “I did not know that. It must be very exciting for you and your colleagues.”

  “Our colleagues. You are a part of the Order, too.”

  Mussad pushed the eggs around on his plate. He wanted nothing to do with the Order or with his father. But that would not get him the information he needed.

  “Of course, Father.”

  Vito nodded. “Hemings is descended from Thomas Jefferson.”

  Mussad almost sighed. His father had the annoying habit of relating every Order member to his origination in the Brotherhood. “But Hemings is a black man.”

  “Of course. He was the product of Jefferson’s affair with his slave Sally Hemings. One of several children, as I recall.”

  Mussad had to assume that it wasn’t something Hemings was proud of since the man had not used the information in his campaign for presidency. “It will be a great achievement for the Order to have a member in control of America.”

  Mussad knew quite a bit about Hemings’s politics. The infidel was no different from any other American, worse than most. Always on television talking about how terrorists—his colleagues—were wrong and had to be stopped. But that didn’t matter. Ziyad had plans that would eliminate Hemings, along with a number of other political leaders in America. Mussad thought it could not come soon enough. He allowed himself a smile. Ziyad’s plans would not only cripple the American government, but they would also strike a blow to the Order. Not a death blow, most likely. But possibly enough to make them realize that their plans to rule the world were worthless. Though he knewthey would never realize they were misguided. They weren’t like Mussad and Ziyad and the others. He and his friends were following the teachings of the Prophet Mohammad. They were showing the world that Allah was the only way. And if they didn’t understand that, then they were infidels.

  They deserved to die.

  December 21, Florence, Italy

  Logan finished typing the translation of the coded document he was working on and clicked the save icon. After decoding half a dozen documents, he now understood why the Order had wanted him for this project. The documents were written in a variety of codes. Some were simple, others extremely complex. He’d encountered codes that were based on number theory, ancient languages, one was even done with a scytale. It would have taken weeks to find a rod the exact circumference to decode the strip of paper. But Logan had written a program years ago that could calculate the circumference with a few measurements. In spite of his expertise with computers and technical encrypting, his specialty was in mathematics and ciphering basic codes. The ones created by humanswhen they needed to keep secrets, rather than the ones created by machines built by those humans. And there was plenty of that here.

  The documents he’d worked on had all been different. All coded by different people with different mind-sets. None of them had been that difficult—yet. But they’d all been ingenious in one way or another, and there were more to come. The documents had been encoded by men who were geniuses, and that lent a certain difficulty to deciphering them. Each man had used his own unique abilities to write the code for his document.

  Logan rose from his seat and stretched. His upper back ached from the hours he’d spent hunched over the documents in spite of the ergonomic chair. The room’s ornate décor contrasted with the chair and workstation he used. Louis XIV? he wondered. Whatever the period of décor, it featured a lot of gilt and fanciful scrolls. An intricate tapestry hung from an equally fancy rod on one wall; paintings in heavy gilt frames covered the others. The oak parquet floor was dotted with plush carpets. Logan doubted they’d been bought at a local rug emporium. He poured a cup of hours-old coffee from the automatic coffeemaker and took it back to his desk to continue working.

  The fact that he didn’t understand a tenth of what the documents contained made the work just thatmuch more difficult. There were documents that dealt with physics that went well beyond his knowledge, and others that seemed almost biblical. Flowery prose that spoke of what was to be, what might be, and puzzling references as to how to make sure something did or did not happen. And none of it got him any closer to finding his uncle.

  “Perhaps you would like a break from your work?”

  Logan set his cup down and turned to see Weisbaum in the doorway of his work area. “Yeah, a break would be good right about now.” He refused to let Weisbaum see that his unannounced entry was unnerving.

  “How are the documents coming along?” Weisbaum asked.

  “Not so bad. I’ve decoded about six of them. Still have a stack to go.”

  “The Order is pleased with your work. That is why we have decided you deserve a boon.”

  Logan didn’t know what to say. The way Weisbaum was talking sounded like something from a historical novel. It was so at odds with the number theories, frequency analyses, and key codes he’d been working with that it almost didn’t make any sense to him.

  “You would like to see your uncle, yes?”

  Logan snapped to attention. “Yes. Very much so.”

  “Follow me,” Weisbaum instructed.

  Logan rose and followed Weisbaum out of the room and down the thickly carpeted hallway. The sound of their shoes echoed hollowly when they stepped down the marble staircase to the empty foyer. Weisbaum opened the double doors to one of the parlors on the ground floor and moved to the ornate fireplace on the opposite wall. He held a hand up, motioning Logan to stay where he was. Logan stopped and watched Weisbaum, not that he could see much in the dim light of the room. After a moment, the wood panel to the right of the fireplace slid open. Logan shivered, sure that he could feel a cool draft from the opening. Weisbaum motioned him forward and entered the small doorway.

  Logan had to duck to avoid hitting his head as he followed Weisbaum. After about a dozen steps down a narrow staircase, Weisbaum opened a door, which let a sharp shaft of light into the narrow corridor. He hurried to catch up to Weisbaum.

  He stepped through the doorway into a square room, no more than twelve by twelve feet. The walls were a utilitarian beige, and there was a nondescript vinyl sofa on one wall, two straight-backed wooden chairs and a round table on another. He couldn’t imagine what the purpose of the room would be. Or what the hell it was doing underneath the mansion.

  “Make yourself comfortable, Logan. Your uncle will be here shortly.”

  He almost snorted at that comment. He hadn’t had a comfortable moment since his uncle had disappeared. He waited for a few minutes, then got up and walked around the room, seeming to be passing time waiting for his uncle, but actually looking for hidden bugs and cameras. He didn’t find any that were readily identi
fiable. He sat at the small table and ran his hand underneath it, then moved to the sofa. He didn’t see anything that looked like it could be a microphone or a camera, but what the hell did he know? He paced the room for a few more minutes, then settled in a chair at the table again.

  “Logan.”

  He turned at the sound of his uncle’s voice. “Uncle Giovanni!” He rose so quickly the chair almost fell over.

  “Come. Give me a hug. It’s been too long.” Giovanni held out his arms and Logan walked into them. He enveloped the older man and fought back the tears that burned his eyes. He’d never really been sure he would see his uncle again.

  “You okay, Uncle G?”

  “I’m fine, fine. And you. How are you doing?”

  “I’m good.” Logan wanted to ask his uncle a million questions, but the thought that the room could be bugged held him back.

  “Come. Sit. We have much to talk about.” Giovanni sat on the sofa and angled his body toward the other end, waiting for Logan to sit. “I’m sorry I have had so little time to talk to you.” He waved a hand. “I should have contacted you after I left your place. But I’ve been so very busy.”

  “After you left? You were kidnapped. Abducted.” Logan stopped, thinking about the possibility of bugs again. The hell with it. This might be his only chance to talk to his uncle. The least he could do would be to find out exactly why he was here.

  Giovanni laughed. “I can see how it would appear. But these people, they have only brought me to where I need to be. This is the most amazing place, Logan.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Here, I have everything I need to do my life’s work. The lab is incredible. Everything I need. Everything I’ve ever wished for.”

  “The lab?”

  “And the living quarters are exceptional, as well. We all have separate rooms, private baths. All our needs are seen to.”

  “Who are you talking about, Uncle G?”

  “The other scientists.” Giovanni smiled at him. “This is what we have all hoped for.” He waved his hand again. “Not just the lab and the rooms. Thechance to work on what is really important. We’re doing something that will help the entire world.”

  “What? How?”

  “Energy,” Giovanni said. “Clean, safe, inexpensive energy. For the entire world. It will change life as we know it.”

  “You’re talking about cold fusion?” Logan searched his mind for references in the documents he’d decoded. Although he understood the basics of cold fusion, he didn’t have an inkling about the specifics, but certainly some of what he’d read could apply.

  “No. Cold fusion isn’t enough. Sure, it can be done. But there’s always the problems with regulating it and containing it. This is better than cold fusion.”

  Logan didn’t want to ask how. That would only result in hours of dissertation from his uncle. “It seemed that you had been kidnapped. Abducted. I mean, you were just going for a walk one morning and then you were gone.”

  “No. No kidnapping. Just a misunderstanding. They were only getting me to the place where I can do my work.” Giovanni reached out and grasped Logan’s hand. “You need to trust me. These are good people.”

  Logan looked down at the wrinkled hand that held his. It looked the same as when he’d been a child and hung around his uncle while he did his experimentsand made endless notes about them. He knew that his uncle’s work was his life. It didn’t surprise Logan that he would willingly go along with anyone who enabled him to do his work. He knew that Giovanni wouldn’t even see the possibility that he was being used. How could he explain this to his uncle?

  “Uncle Giovanni, I’m really happy that you’re doing the work you want to do. I’m just a little concerned.” He grinned at his uncle. “I can’t accept that they just took you off the street.”

  “No, no. Not like that at all. I came willingly. How could I not? They have offered me everything I ever wanted.” Giovanni smiled at him. “And I told them you would be the best to figure out the coded documents. They came to you, no?”

  Logan nodded. Yes, they came to him, although it wasn’t as benevolent as his uncle seemed to think.

  “They pay you good money, no?”

  Sure. He was getting three times what he’d been earning at the NSA. Not that a government salary was all that much.

  “And you are helping the entire world.” Giovanni slapped his leg. “That is the best. Doing what you are meant to do and getting a good salary and doing good for the world all at the same time? How could it be any better?”

  Logan nodded. He made the decision to hold his thoughts for now. After he’d had more time with his uncle he could broach the subject. And if he knew more about what they were doing, it could help convince his uncle to leave. “Of course. This is important work.” He paused. “But what are the documents I’m decoding? What do they mean?”

  “We won’t know until we put them all together.” Giovanni shrugged. “I know they all lead to the same thing. The energy source that we want.”

  “Where the hell do they come from?” Logan asked.

  “All over. For many years—decades, even longer—some scientists have pooled their knowledge. They hand that knowledge down to younger scientists. But over time there often appeared to be people, groups, even governments that didn’t want us to share our findings. So the information was written in code sometimes.”

  “I see.”

  “And now is the time for it to all come together.” Giovanni clapped his hands together like a child. “Now we will free the world from the wrong way of doing things, the wrong way of thinking.”

  Logan tried to smile at his uncle. Wrong way of thinking?

  Giovanni reached a hand into his pocket and drew out a small, faceted crystal globe that hung from a silver chain. He dangled the globe so that the light hit it and blazed out in a prismatic display of colors. “You remember this?”

  Logan’s face relaxed into a genuine smile. “We used to play some kind of game with it when you visited, didn’t we? What was it? A word game?”

  “That was one of them.” Giovanni nodded. “There were many we played.”

  “I loved it when you came to visit.” Logan sat back in his chair. He felt more relaxed than he’d been in a long time. A very long time. He remembered playing outside the guest cottage while his uncle worked. He would spend the entire day with him, until his mother called them to dinner.

  “Yes. I enjoyed it, as well.” Giovanni held the globe higher so that Logan had to lift his eyes to watch it. “Remember the beach?”

  Logan nodded.

  “Can you hear the waves crashing on the shore? Feel the warmth of the sun on your face?”

  Logan’s eyelids fluttered and closed.

  “Remember how happy you were? Remember what I taught you? How you’re special. Chosen for a special place in the world? To do special work?”

  “I remember.”

  11

  December 22, Florence, Italy

  ZOE PARKED THE KAWASAKI Ninja 240R at the top of a hill and took off her helmet. She opened the saddlebag and pulled out a Nikon monocular. From the hill, she had a clear view of the Triumvirate’s mansion. She hadn’t realized just how large the structure was when she’d been inside it. From here she could see that it extended back much farther than she’d expected. But more interesting was the activity at the front entrance. A steady stream of cars pulled into the gated driveway. They each stopped in front of the door, let several people out, and then drove on. She focused her monocular on the limousine that had just arrived. Three men and a woman, all dressed in business suits, emerged. The car drove off and another one immediately took its place.

  She continued to watch for another half hour as car after car arrived and departed. Perhaps the Triumvirate was having a party? Zoe couldn’t imagine that, and besides, there was something strange about what she was looking at. She focused her monocular on the next car and watched as three more men got out and entered the mansion.
That was it. There were hardly any women in the groups. She’d seen maybe three women and at least fifty men. So, maybe a business meeting? Even so, there should be more women.

  Zoe slid the monocular into her fanny pack, rode her motorcycle around so that she was less than a hundred yards from the back of the mansion, and parked behind some bushes. She slipped through the shadows to the back of the wall that surrounded the mansion. As she’d expected, a motion detection device was mounted on the top of the eight-foot-high stone wall. Anyone climbing over the wall would break the photoelectric beam and set off an alarm system. Almost anyone. This is where her diminutive stature worked in her favor. Along with all the gymnastics training she’d done over the years.

  She climbed up the wall easily, finding plenty of finger and toeholds for her small hands and feet. When she reached the top, she quickly assessed the electronics. There were two electronic beams. One about ten inches above the wall, the other about thirty inches. That posed a problem. While she could slideunder the lower beam, it would be almost impossible to get into a position to do that without tripping the beam. The higher beam would make stepping over it impossible with her twenty-six-inch inseam. That left going in between them.

  She reversed her steps to the ground, backed up a few paces, and considered the wall. If she could get a perch high enough and close enough, she could dive in between the beams. Of course, she’d then be diving down eight feet or more to the ground. Not great, but with a tuck-and-roll maneuver, she’d be all right. Probably. The real problem was that there was nothing to get her up to the right height and distance. A tree grew a short distance from the wall, but even though it would take her to the right height, it looked too far away for the dive she’d need to take. But there was nothing else, so Zoe climbed up the tree.