The Lucifer Code (37 page)

‘Would you like tea?’

Lourds looked up from the notes he had taken the previous night, still groggily struggling to make sense of them. He’d had a plan of attack, more likely a conjecture he realized now, but it had been starting to make sense before he’d lain his head down and gone to sleep.

Olympia stood in front of his borrowed desk and looked as tired as he felt. She and the monks had been busy searching through books they’d borrowed from local libraries, the university and bought along Cagaloglu, the street filled with a collection of booksellers and printers. Their efforts had gleaned a few facts no one else had known, not even the monks, but it hadn’t helped with the translation Lourds was struggling with. Cleena had stayed with him as his bodyguard, but she hadn’t seemed happy about it. Lourds wondered again what kept her with them when she’d seen first hand how dangerous it was to do so.

‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ Lourds answered.

‘What about breakfast?’

‘We have breakfast?’

‘I went to market this morning,’ Olympia explained. ‘It’s nothing fancy, but it will help hold body and soul together.’

‘I’d be very interested in breakfast.’

‘Good. Why don’t you go grab a shower and we’ll take breakfast out on the balcony. The sun has only just risen, and the weather’s perfect for early morning dining.’

‘I really don’t have time to—’

‘Thomas,’ Olympia said gently and reached out to hold his face between her hands as if he were a child, ‘for the last four days, you’ve done nothing but sleep, eat and breathe that scroll. If you ask me, you’ve exceeded all expectations of human endurance. All you’re doing at this point is locking yourself into tunnel vision.’ She smiled at him. ‘Take a shower. Eat breakfast with a beautiful woman. Catch your breath. Take a nap. Then look at the scroll with fresh eyes.’

‘You do make sense.’

‘Of course I make sense.’ She leaned in to kiss him. In that tender touch, he realized that he had missed sharing her bed the last four days.

Some vacation
, he thought ruefully.

Olympia glanced down at him, and smiled. ‘Maybe you should make that a
cold
shower.’

‘Or,’ Lourds prompted, taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers, ‘you could shower with me.’

‘And who would get your breakfast ready?’

‘When we get back, all scrubbed clean and satiated, I’ll help you get both our breakfasts ready.’

‘You do realize that if we get caught it would mortify my brother.’

‘I suspect it would take rather more than that to mortify your brother.’

Olympia hesitated only a moment, then she nodded and took Lourds by the hand.

Oceanview Offices had at one time been the workspace for an import/export business. Lourds hadn’t heard the whole story from Joachim, but the gist seemed that the business had ended suddenly. A few bullet holes and suspicious-looking stains decorated the walls and floor of two of the rear offices. Lourds had pointedly stayed out of those rooms. He didn’t believe in ghosts, but he didn’t want to chance the negative energy that might be left over there.

Whatever business had actually taken place in the offices, the enterprise had been well accoutred. In addition to the conference room where Lourds worked, which had a view of the coastline and of the Hagia Sophia, there were five other smaller offices, two bathrooms—one with a small shower and a kitchen. The monks had brought in simple sleeping bags and kitchen utensils. At the moment, the offices were between leases. Lourds didn’t know if Joachim had made arrangements with the owners or if they were simply squatting there. In the end, it didn’t really matter. They wouldn’t—couldn’t—be there long.

Feeling refreshed from the shower, Lourds helped Olympia make breakfast from the breads, fresh fruit, cheeses and sausages she’d brought back from the market. When they finished filling their plates, they retreated to the balcony with a pot of dark Turkish coffee.

Some time over the last few days, someone—and Lourds suspected it was Olympia—had brought a stray table and five mismatched chairs out onto the small balcony overlooking the waterfront.

‘I’m surprised your watchdog hasn’t made it up yet,’ Olympia said, referring to Cleena.

Lourds looked out over the water and the line of restaurants that stood at its edge. ‘Don’t you think you’re being a little unfair to her?’

‘She did force her way into our group.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘And that’s only because she bungled the original kidnapping for Qayin and his people.’

‘As I recall, she rescued me from Qayin.’

‘Only after bringing you to him.’

Lourds couldn’t argue the point there.

He buttered a roll and ate it thoughtfully. His mind still churned through all the symbols he had been studying for the last few days. A few times, he had thought they were starting to make sense, then they would just slip away like minnows through his fingers.

‘And the little friend she keeps in her ear is another problem,’ Olympia said. ‘How do we know we can trust him?’

‘How do you know it’s a him?’

Olympia gave him a look. ‘Please. It shows in the way she acts. The friend is a man. You can trust me on this one.’

‘Okay, I trust you.’

A look of frustrated disbelief filled Olympia’s face. ‘You’ll trust me that her friend is a man, but you won’t trust me that having her with us is a bad idea?’

Olympia picked up her tray, silverware and cup and departed without another word.

Lourds sighed tiredly. Obviously there were
two
languages he presently didn’t understand. He sipped his coffee and caught movement from the corner of his eye. At first he thought it might be Olympia returning. Instead, it was Cleena.

The young woman only had a couple of pieces of buttered toast, grapes and melon wedges on her plate. She wore her red hair pulled back.

‘Are you planning on going anywhere for the next hour or so?’ Cleena asked.

‘I hadn’t planned to. Why?’

‘I’ve got an errand I have to run.’

Suspicion darkened Lourds’ thoughts immediately, and he knew it must have shown on his face.

Cleena smiled at him and lifted an eyebrow. ‘You don’t trust me?’

‘I do,’ Lourds assured her. ‘As much as I can.’

‘Do you trust me as much as you trust your girlfriend?’

‘She’s not my—’

‘Maybe no one else noticed you slip off to the shower together a few minutes ago, but I did.’ Cleena bit into a melon wedge. Juice trickled down her chin.

‘I trust you a lot, as it happens. In fact, I think I’m the only one who trusts you.’

‘Probably.’ Cleena glanced at the notes he had at the side of his plate. ‘Still haven’t figured out that scroll?’

‘Not yet, no.’

‘I have faith in you,’ Cleena said simply.

‘What’s your errand?’ Lourds took a bite of melon and found it sweet.

‘I’ve got to go somewhere.’

‘Where?’

Cleena gave him a wan smile. ‘Running out of trust, Professor?’

‘It appears to be a scarce commodity these days.’

‘Old Mother Hubbard and her cupboard, eh?’

‘Something like that,’ Lourds replied. ‘You’ve been around our group for four days, and you’ve talked less than anyone.’

‘I’m a private person.’

‘Private people don’t force their friendship on others at gunpoint.’

Cleena smiled. ‘You have to admit, it’s a lot more effective and it gets quicker results.’

‘There’s something to be said for people who take the long way to do things.’

‘There’s not always time for that.’

‘You’re asking for a lot and are giving only a little.’

‘Maybe I’m giving you more than you suspect.’

Lourds took a breath and let it out. ‘We’re coming to a critical juncture in our partnership. Trust is getting to be a hard thing to come by, so maybe it’s time you started trusting me.’

‘Are you forgetting who you’re up against, Professor?’ Cleena pinned him with her gaze. ‘You’ve got a phantom army on your tail, judging from those ghosts who have wandered out of Iraq. You’ve got Qayin and his people on another side. Then there are the monks.’

‘They’re on my side.’

‘For the moment. But you have to remember: they didn’t tell you everything at the beginning. Neither did your girlfriend. In the Church I was brought up in omission was considered a lie. If you’re not going to trust me, do yourself a favour and don’t trust them either.’

Before Lourds could respond, Cleena picked up her plate and coffee cup and departed. He sat in the chill morning shade and watched her walk away. He didn’t know whether to be more afraid of her or for her.

‘Where you like to go, miss?’

Cleena pulled her attention from the ocean and peered along the line of shops and bars on the left side of the street. Cruise ships lined the docks and tourists were out in force. Hawkers called out their wares from doorways and carts. Small bazaars had opened beneath cargo tents in alleyways. The crowds of people would make it difficult to keep an eye on her surroundings, but she hoped they would also provide an easy way to disappear if it came to that.

‘There.’ Cleena pointed to a cyber café that advertised battling robots rendered in neon tubing. Popular game names and posters littered the windows.

‘Of course, miss. At once.’ The driver cut across two lanes of traffic, narrowly avoided locking bumpers with another taxi trailing too close, and skidded against the curb.

Cleena paid the man and tipped him well enough, but not so well that he would remember her, and got out. She stepped into the flow of human traffic and looked around.

‘Sevki,’ she said.

‘I haven’t seen anyone yet.’ Sevki sounded frazzled and she felt badly about asking him for so much.

‘None of the monks?’

‘Not one.’

‘I don’t think they let me go alone because they trusted me.’

‘They probably thought you were going to lead them into a trap.’

Cleena grinned at that. The thought of the monks being afraid of her rocked her world a little. They were smug with their holier-than-thou attitudes. But they weren’t the ones she was intent on trapping.

‘You’ll see someone soon. Just keep a close watch over me.’

‘Always. But you know, I really have to protest this course of action.’

‘Again?’ Cleena pulled open the café door and entered the darkness. She slipped her sunglasses off and surveyed the large room.

Patrons occupied most of the three or four dozen computers scattered around. Nearly all of them were involved in online gaming or surfing porn sites. Sometimes they did both.

‘Yes—again,’ Sevki said. ‘You didn’t listen the first few times.’

‘It wasn’t a few.’ Cleena went to the front desk and negotiated for a computer. She showed one of the fake identifications Sevki had arranged for her and paid cash, English pounds.

‘It wasn’t enough,’ Sevki countered. ‘These guys you’re playing with, they’re out of your league.’

‘I got drafted into this.’ Cleena sat at the table and swiped the card she’d been given through the data reader. The computer powered up and allowed her access. ‘If it had been up to me, I’d still be playing in the minor leagues.’

‘I know.’

‘These aren’t the kind of guys who will simply let you fade away once everything is said and done. You know that.’

Sevki sighed. ‘I know.’

‘All I can do is increase their cost to play. The same way we did when you stepped wrong round the Russian Mafia.’ Cleena felt badly about bringing that up, but she also felt she didn’t have a choice.

‘I know. I still owe you for that.’

‘No, you don’t.’ Cleena took a deep breath. ‘But I could use help now. I can’t do this by myself. If I can’t be safe, I want my sister to be.’

‘She will be. Are you at the computer?’

‘I am.’

‘Then go to this IP address.’

Cleena did, and once there, she downloaded all the programs and applications Sevki had waiting. The computer protested just for a moment, then the warning screen for the firewalls quieted and went away. Within seconds, Sevki had the machine slaved to his own.

‘We’re set up,’ Sevki said a short time later.

Tension knotted Cleena’s stomach. She forced herself to pick up the phone handset on the table and slot it into the USB port. In seconds, the internet phone connection linked up. She dialled the number she’d been given, then settled back to watch the front and back doors. If she was right, and she felt certain she was, things would happen very quickly. She just had to make certain they didn’t happen to her.

The phone rang.

When CIA Special Agent in Charge James Dawson heard the strident ring of the phone on the nightstand beside the bed in his hotel room, he held up a hand to the young woman straddling him. She stopped her wild gyrations but continued a gentle rocking that held him right at the brink.

He checked the number and saw he didn’t recognize it. There was only one person who could possibly be calling him from a phone he wouldn’t have the number for. He flipped the phone open confidently and ran his free hand over the sweat-slick body of the young woman atop him.

‘Ah, Miss MacKenna,’ Dawson greeted Cleena. ‘Just when I had almost given up on you.’

‘Your goons at the Hagia Sophia nearly did their job too well,’ she said.

Genuine puzzlement nagged at Dawson. ‘I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I didn’t think that you would. But their attack created a problem.’

Some of Dawson’s confidence oozed away. ‘Is the professor all right?’

‘He is. But only just. And not for the lack of trying on the part of your hired help.’

‘I must protest, Miss MacKenna. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Dawson didn’t know what she was talking about, but she seemed awfully sure of herself.

‘Did they tell you that the professor found a scroll?’

That caught Dawson’s attention. ‘What scroll?’

‘I don’t think it’s the main one,’ she continued. ‘Everyone here seems a bit disconcerted that it hasn’t turned up yet. But they also seem convinced that the professor will find it soon enough.’

‘Good. When he does, you’ll be out of this situation. So will your sister.’