Текст книги "26 - Storm Cycle "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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TWELVE

Tavak's gaze shifted from Rachel to Allie. "I don't even get a vote in this?"

Allie smiled. "Sure you do. Two of us against one of you. I'm going."

Tavak glanced at Rachel. "Is that really the way you'd vote?"

Rachel nodded. "She has more at stake in this than any of us."

"I can't argue with that. But does she have any idea what we're up against?"

Allie stepped forward. "Yes, Rachel didn't hold anything back from me."

"She wouldn't let me," Rachel said ruefully. "She knows what she's doing. Allie is coming with us to St. Petersburg."

"Fine," Tavak said. "But she should know I'm a hazardous person to be around. The last person to help me is now recovering in a Cairo hospital."

"Is that supposed to frighten me, Mr. Tavak?" Allie asked.

"Not at all. It's just in the interest of full disclosure."

"Good, because I don't frighten easily," she said quietly. "I've had doctors telling me I was at death's door since I was thirteen years old. You want to know real fear? Try dealing with a death sentence when you're in the eighth grade."

"I can't even imagine," he said soberly.

"But when you come out the other side of something like that, it's liberating. You realize what's important in life, and what you and Rachel are doing is important."

"Unless it turns out to be nothing."

"You don't want to get my hopes up. It doesn't matter. It's the attempt that's important. And even if it is the real deal, I know it may never help me. Medical breakthroughs can take years to get from the labs to our neighborhood clinics."

"Don't say that," Rachel said.

"It's the truth, isn't it? And believe me, if we find a cure, I'll do everything I can to hang on. I've made it this long. But in any case, this could help a lot of other people." She turned back to Tavak. "This is too important for me not to be a part of it."

"As long as you're aware of the risks."

Allie pulled up the handle of her rolling bag. "Believe me, it would be a bigger risk for me to stay here and do nothing."

* * *

It was past 2 A.M. when Allie looked up from reading her magazine to see only one overhead light in the entire first-class section of the jet. Tavak's seat, she realized. He was three rows ahead and on the other side of the cabin from her and Rachel. She glanced at her sister. Rachel was dead asleep, her head resting against the window. Allie quietly unbuckled her seat belt and moved toward Tavak.

As she drew closer, she could see that he was scribbling furiously in a notebook, occasionally consulting some kind of spread-sheet on his laptop.

Tavak looked up. "Hello."

"Hi." She motioned toward the empty seat next to him. "May I?"

Tavak moved some papers off the seat. "Of course. I thought you were sleeping."

"I tried, but I can never sleep on planes." Allie sat down and buckled herself in. "And I suppose you're one of those people who never sleeps."

"It's a curse. Every time I close my eyes, I'm afraid I'm sleeping my life away. Or that I'm missing out on something."

"Maybe that's why we have dreams."

"I don't have dreams. At least, none that I can remember. I guess that's why it's important for me to live mine when I'm awake."

"Rachel hardly sleeps, either. But with her, it's because she can't shut her mind off. She's always working on fifty problems at once, and she's afraid that if she shuts down for a while, she won't be able to get back on track."

Tavak glanced back. "She's having no problem right now."

"It's unusual for her. She must be exhausted."

"It's been a hectic few days." Tavak smiled. "Your sister is going to change the world. And what's more, she knows it. When you have that kind of purpose, it's hard to just shut down."

"If it was just her work, that would be okay. But sometimes I think that the work she's doing for my illness is pushing her over the edge. It's affecting her own health."

Tavak shook his head. "I don't believe that. She's found a way to focus her work in a way that may benefit you. Do you really think she would push any less hard if your situation suddenly resolved itself?"

"Suddenly resolved itself? That sounds ominous."

"Resolved in the best sense, of course. Your sister would find something else to focus her projects on. But you give her a sense of urgency, of impetus. Back at your house, you mentioned the clarity your disease has given you. I think it's given your sister the same clarity."

"I'll try to tell myself that."

"It's the truth."

"Whatever." She looked straight ahead. "I came up here to give you a warning."

"A warning? Now that does sound ominous."

"In a very short period of time, you've recruited one of the world's most brilliant women and one of the world's most powerful computer systems for your own purposes. The only reason you were able to do that is because you convinced her that it might help me."

"You're right."

Allie lowered her voice as a flight attendant passed. "Mr. Tavak, if I find you're using me and my illness to deceive my sister in any way, I'll take you down. I'll destroy you. You may not think I can, but I promise I'll find a way."

Tavak studied her for a long moment. He finally nodded. "I understand. And I assure you that I've been completely aboveboard with Rachel. I know how important this is to her—and you."

"For your sake, I hope you're telling the truth."

"I am. You're a good sister, Allie."

"Yes, I am." Allie unfastened her belt, stood up, and started back toward her seat.

"Allie… "

She turned. "Yes?"

His smile lit his face with sudden warmth. "I believe I may be glad you came along."

PULKOVO II INTERNATIONAL

AIRPORT ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA

As Rachel, Allie, and Tavak entered the busy arrivals terminal, Tavak gestured toward the customs sign. "That's our first stop."

"What then?" Rachel asked.

"Someone will meet us after we get through Customs. From there, we'll go—"

"John Tavak?" The tall, bald young man who had interrupted him was dressed in a Russian military uniform and spoke with a thick Russian accent.

"Yes?" Tavak answered warily.

"Come with me, please. All of you."

"Is there a problem?" Rachel asked.

The soldier adjusted the automatic rifle hanging from his shoulder. "Not if you follow me. This way."

Rachel and Allie looked at Tavak.

"It's not the time or place to ask questions. That gun appears to be an excellent argument." Tavak motioned toward the soldier. "This way… "

They followed the soldier through the terminal to a secured door, where he entered a numeric code into the keypad. He opened the door and gestured them through. They walked down a long hallway with a concrete floor and several closed doors.

Rachel turned to Tavak. "Tell me you're not on some kind of a watch list."

"I'm sure that's all been sorted out by now," he murmured.

"What?"

"I'm joking. I have no idea what this is about."

"Bastard."

The soldier pushed open another door that led outside, where they stepped out onto a narrow sidewalk. It was deserted save for a large, rotund man with a thick gray beard and a canvas bag slung over his left shoulder.

The man's eyes lit up. "John Tavak! Welcome to St. Petersburg. I see that your taste in traveling companions has vastly improved."

Tavak smiled and shook hands with him. "And I see that you still look like Santa Claus."

"I am your Santa Claus. No awful customs lines, no muss, no fuss." He shrugged. "Christmas has come early for you."

"Lev, meet the sisters Kirby. This is Rachel and that's Allie."

Lev bowed. "Enchanted and delighted. I hope you weren't alarmed by the escort I arranged. After your long journey, I wanted to spare you any more discomfort." Lev opened the canvas bag and produced a new-in-the-box Nintendo Wii game console, which he handed to the young soldier. "Here you are, my friend. Many thanks for a job well done."

The soldier looked at the box in his hands. "Our original deal was for two people. I didn't know there would be three."

"Last-minute addition," Allie said.

Lev reached back into his bag. "Right you are. What's a game system without the latest and greatest games? Here's an amazing new Indiana Jones game, plus a water-skiing challenge, and a couple of others. You'll have a good time with these."

The soldier nodded and stacked the boxes on top of the console system. "This will be fine. Thank you."

"Thank you, my friend. I'll be in touch."

The soldier walked back through the doorway and locked the door behind him.

Tavak turned back to Lev. "Since when did video games become the currency of choice around here?"

Lev shrugged. "Depends on who I'm dealing with. For men under thirty, few things are more valuable."

Rachel thought of Hal Demanski playing the alien shoot-'em-up with his fellow multibillionaires. Boys and their toys.

"I also have a gift for you." Lev handed a gun to Tavak. "I assumed you'd want your usual Magnum. Correct?"

Tavak smiled. "Correct."

Lev motioned toward the Mercedes parked at the curb. "Come. We have places to go."

In less than an hour, they found themselves walking through the wide, ornate corridors of the Hermitage Museum, once the Winter Palace for the Russian royals. Lev opened his arms at the majesty of it all. "Breathtaking, yes?"

Rachel looked at the massive chandeliers and gold leafing on the ceilings. Each room they had seen had featured intricately carved columns with more gold leafing on the base. "Yes. It's almost enough to make me understand why the starving citizens wanted the Romanov family's blood."

"That's no way to look at such things of beauty. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a cynic."

Allie smiled. "You don't know better. But spend a few hours with my sister, and you will."

Rachel shook her head. "It's not cynicism to think about what things cost. And I'm not just talking about dollars and cents."

Lev turned to Tavak. "I think your friend is going to launch another revolution."

Tavak smiled. "It's a distinct possibility."

"The Egyptian collection is up ahead. It's fairly unremarkable, but the piece you're looking for is featured prominently."

They entered a large room, and Rachel immediately recognized the large display case from the video Tavak had shown her. They stepped closer to the limestone wall, which featured a carved relief of a great feast and an assortment of animals.

Tavak opened his notebook and compared the reliefs with drawings he had made.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked.

"This depicts an offering to the gods. I just want to make sure there's nothing here that wouldn't normally be found in an Old Kingdom banquet."

"Kind of like, one of these things doesn't belong?" Allie said.

"Yes, but I'm sure we can't be that lucky. The code is probably something more complicated than that."

Allie shook her head. "How could this disciple, Natifah, have come up with these codes? I mean, the 'etched in fire' message was ingenious."

"It was," Rachel said. "And I'm guessing Natifah was ingenious. She was a doctor at a time when it was a rare thing for a woman to be. And she may have had help."

"From another patient of Peseshet's?"

Tavak looked up from his notebook. "It's possible. But whatever information this wall holds, it's nothing I can crack by just glancing at it. It's going to take time."

"I've already made arrangements with a guard," Lev said. "We can come back at ten o'clock to night and get a much more in-depth look."

Rachel smiled. "Another video-game bribe?"

"No, he's much older. Two cases of vodka should do the trick."

"And if that doesn't work?"

Lev shrugged. "Three cases of vodka."

* * *

Finley leaned back as three color-photo printouts suddenly landed on the desk in front of him. He glanced up to see Gonzalez and Tunison smiling as if they'd won the Power-ball lottery.

Finley looked back down at the printouts. "Okay. I'd appreciate it if you could wipe those shit-eating grins off your faces long enough to tell me what I'm looking at here."

Tunison pointed to a tall man in a dark blue Windbreaker. "We think this could be our shooter."

"I'm listening."

"This came off the kid's webcam. Ballistics tells us that the gunshot came from this hill. The only route not covered by campus security cameras is down this path." Gonzalez traced the route with his finger. "And look at this guy."

Finley eyes narrowed on the grainy printout. While the frame grab didn't offer enough resolution to get a clear look of the man's face, Finley could see the jeans, black T-shirt, close-cropped hair, and a large backpack. He glanced up. "Looks like a typical college kid."

"Of course he does. Why would he want to appear any differently? But notice how long that backpack is? And does it look like he has any books in there?"

Finley studied it. "No. But there is something poking at the top and bottom."

"Something like a disassembled SKS rifle, maybe?"

"Possibly."

"There's a digital time stamp," Tunison said. "The timing fits perfectly with Rachel Kirby's shooting."

Gonzalez pointed to the other two printouts. "We can trace him all the way up to the other side of this building, where the path curves around."

"Where does it lead?"

"Lots of places. A performing-arts auditorium, the law library"—Gonzalez raised another photograph printout—"and an off-campus parking lot."

"You're shitting me."

"Our guy didn't park there, but his car was on the street close enough for the lot's security cameras to catch him. Either he didn't know about it, or he thought he was far enough away from the shooting that he wouldn't be connected to it. He obviously didn't count on a student webcam catching him in the quadrangle."

Finley took the fourth printout and looked at the backpack-toting man climbing into a black Mercedes-Benz automobile. "Okay, now he suddenly doesn't look so much like a student."

"It's a 2009 Mercedes 550 SL, and we have a partial on the plate."

"Let me guess. It's stolen."

"Nope. It was towed off the shoulder of a Katy Freeway exit ramp a couple days ago. It's now sitting in one of our impound lots. Wanna go take a look?"

* * *

Less than an hour later, Finley and Gonzalez were walking across the gravel impound lot with the facility manager, a sunburned man with a bright orange clipboard.

"Your forensics guys got here about ten minutes ago," the lot manager said. "I showed them where the car is, but they said they'd wait for you before goin' inside."

Gonzalez nodded. "Did you attempt to contact the vehicle's owner?"

The lot manager spit before consulting his clipboard. "We couldn't match the plate to anybody. It's either a DMV screwup, or the plate's a counterfeit."

They turned down an aisle that bordered a long chain-link fence. Two white-shirted forensics specialists waved from the rear of the black Mercedes. But, as Gonzalez and Finley neared, they could see the grim expressions on the specialists' faces.

"What is it?" Finley asked.

In the next instant a gust of wind sent a sharp, pungent odor to them.

Gonzalez covered his nose and mouth. "Oh, shit." He and Finley exchanged glances. They were both too familiar with that smell.

One of the forensics guys handed them white face masks. "Here, these will help a little."

As they put on the masks, Gonzalez motioned toward the trunk. "If that's the owner we're smelling, it explains why the car wasn't reported stolen. Open it up."

A forensics specialist opened the driver-side door and popped the trunk. Finley pulled on a pair of evidence gloves, gripped the trunk lid, and lifted.

The men gathered around the car and stared inside the open trunk.

Gonzalez asked, "What do you think, Finley? Is it our shooter?"

"Maybe. Good chance."

Although they had been unable to get a clear picture of his face, the rotting corpse could very well be the man they'd seen on the webcam frame grabs. It was the same jacket, the same close-cropped hair, the same awkwardly filled knapsack.

Finley unzipped the knapsack and pulled the main compartment open enough to reveal the parts of a disassembled rifle. "An even better chance than I thought."

"I'll say." Gonzalez looked at the forensic specialists. "Any idea what killed him?"

"Hell, no. You want a guess?" One of the forensics guys shined a flashlight at the corpse's torso. "Maybe a knife wound to the chest?"

Gonzalez backed away. The smell was overpowering even through the mask. "Any ID?"

Finley shook his head. "Not that I can see. I'll leave it to our friends here to paw around that rotting carcass. I can wait." He turned to the specialists. "But not long. We need a positive ID on this fella right away."

ST. PETERSBURG,

RUSSIA

Lev pulled his minivan to a stop along the bank of the Neva River. He smiled. "Here at last. Sorry about the traffic, but that's the price of progress. This city has changed a lot in the past twenty years."

"It's a beautiful city," Rachel said. She had never been to St. Petersburg, but she was impressed by the clean, wide streets and Dutch-inspired architecture. Most of the pedestrians she had seen were young and well dressed, and the city literally gleamed in the late-afternoon sun.

"Here we are," Lev said.

She stared in puzzlement at what appeared to be a large party barge docked on the riverfront. The boat was packed with revelers holding drinks, some talking, some swaying to the repetitious dance music. "I thought you were taking us to your house."

Lev smiled. "I said I was taking you to my home. Which I have. You're looking at it, my dear. It's actually quite spacious belowdecks."

"Are those people your friends?" Allie asked from the back-seat.

"Oh, no. I've haven't met many of them."

"But why—?"

Lev climbed out of the van and motioned for Rachel, Allie, and Tavak to do the same. "It's like this every night of the week. The people I do business with always know where to come for a good time. And, in their gratitude, they will do almost anything for me. The soldier from the airport may be here later if he's not too wrapped up in his new Wii."

Tavak nodded. "Lev's parties are legendary. And he employs a bartender who can make any drink ever invented. I've tried to stump him, but it just can't be done."

Rachel shot Tavak an impatient glance. "Is this really the best use of our time?"

"Absolutely. We can't go back to the museum until after ten. I'd say this is exactly what we need."

"I agree." Allie smiled as she took the lead crossing a narrow gangway to board the boat. "Exactly what we need. Lighten up, Rachel."

"Allie—"

"Listen to that music." But Allie was already swaying to the beat and moving through the throngs of partygoers. "Wonderful… "

Rachel had a sudden memory of Tavak telling her that at the fountains in Las Vegas. Strange that two such diverse people would share that common joyous whimsy.

"Let her go," Tavak said. "She'll have fun."

Rachel wanted to follow her. To protect her. Exactly what Allie didn't want her to do. And maybe she was right. She had seen Allie like this before and had always admired her ability to dive into any situation and make it sing. She finally shrugged. "Fine."

"Good girl. Now can I get you one of those drinks I was telling you about?"

"Just one. I'm working."

"So am I." He smiled. "But I'm like Allie. You have to take the opportunity to dance if the music is playing."

* * *

Less than five minutes later, Rachel was staring at the golden spire of the Peter and Paul Cathedral and sipping one of the best lemon drops she'd ever tasted. She and Tavak leaned against a railing at the relatively secluded stern section.

"What did I tell you?" Tavak said. "The best bartender in Europe."

"You may be right. A good bartender is an often-overlooked secret to making people happy. Lev knows what he's doing."

"You bet he does."

"Do you have people like him in every city in the world?"

"Not every city. But there's always a need for people who know how to get things done, who know how to cut through the red tape. I've spent years cultivating my contacts. Some are hard to find." Tavak smiled as the revelers on the deck stomped to the music. "Others are not so hard to find."

She studied him. "You sound almost affectionate."

"Why not? They're as close to family as I'll probably ever get. I move around too much to form any more-lasting relationships."

"And heaven forbid you settle down."

"I can't do it. I've tried once or twice." He made a face. "The boredom nearly killed me."

She could see how it might drive him crazy. She had seen how that intelligence was always prodding him, opening new doors and ways of doing things. He would always have to look for new things, new ideas to stimulate him. "I'd think it would be lonely."

"Sometimes." He smiled. "But lest you think that I'm a total commitment-phobe, I was actually engaged once."

"Why did you break it off ?"

"I didn't. She did. Nell was a photojournalist, and we had a lot in common. She found me exciting for a while but she had the good sense to realize that she couldn't change me. For the long haul, exciting wasn't what she wanted. She didn't even ask me to change. She just… left."

"Would you have changed if she had asked?"

"No, she was right to leave. Right for her and ultimately right for me. It taught me a valuable lesson. In the end you have to decide who you are and what you have to give up to be that person." He lifted his glass to Lev across the deck. "And then you go out and make friends, like Lev, who don't care a damn when you walk away."

"But will Lev be willing to stand by and watch you destroy one of his museum's priceless treasures?"

"It may not come to that."

"But it may. I understand you did quite a bit of damage getting to that secret chamber in Egypt."

"In all fairness, Dawson and his men did most of the damage there."

"But you would have done the same thing if that had been what it took to get what you wanted."

He sipped his drink. "You're right. I would have."

"And if the only way you can unlock that museum piece's secrets is to destroy it, what then?"

"I'll destroy it," he said simply.

"Ask a direct question… "

"I could always find a way to make it up to the museum later. There are thousands of ancient mastabas all over the world, and thousands more in the sand that haven't even been discovered yet. But what we're looking for could be more valuable than all of them put together. And it would bring more honor and respect to that society than anything the world has ever seen. So yes, I'd gladly sacrifice the wall of a minor nobleman to do that. Wouldn't you?"

Rachel smiled and took another sip from her drink. "We're talking about Allie. Just put a chisel in my hand."

"Good to know we're both on the same page." Tavak pointed toward the crowd. "By the way, your sister appears to have made friends."

Rachel turned to see Allie on a small flag platform. A burly, shirtless man had hoisted her onto his shoulders, where she sat swaying to the music. As Rachel and Tavak watched, two other women, also astride their partners' shoulders, approached and high-fived Allie.

Rachel shook her head. "She doesn't play the part of an invalid very well, does she?"

"She looks happy."

"When she's feeling well, she's the happiest person I know. She doesn't take anything for granted and cherishes every new experience. I could learn a lot from her."

"And when she's not feeling well?"

"She's changed over the years. For a little while there was nothing but anger, especially when she was a teenager. She lashed out at everyone."

"It must have been difficult for you."

"It was. For my mom and dad, too. But you have to consider how much worse it was for her."

"You had a close family?"

"The best. But my mom had a heart attack and died when I was sixteen. That was a real blow to all of us. She was very special. My dad took over and tried to be everything to both of us. Pretty difficult when one daughter has a fatal illness and the other is a self-absorbed nerd. He was amazing. He died in an automobile accident when I was in Japan, and I came home to do my best to take care of Allie."

"You've done a good job."

"I love her," she said simply.

"Total devotion? All the research I've done about you… there was almost never mention of a man in your life. I saw pictures of you at banquets when you were receiving awards, but you were usually with your sister. Occasionally, I'd see you with a date, but you were rarely with the same man twice."

"I knew better than to subject the men in my life to those boring ceremonies."

"I see."

She made a face. "And, I guess, I never kept them around for very long."

"Jonesy was your main focus?"

"Jonesy is only the latest in a long line of projects that have consumed my time and energy. But that's not the only reason. I tend to be attracted to men who are just as passionate about their work as I am about mine."

"Computer guys?"

"Not usually. One was a financial analyst, one was a musician, and another was a college football coach. Their devotion to their work made each of them terribly interesting and exciting, but it possibly wasn't the best thing for our relationships." She smiled. "It was probably just as well. I had Allie to worry about. She absorbed most of my attention."

"You're not even a little resentful?"

She shook her head. "As I said, she had a little while when she was bitter against everything. But when she came out the other side, she was one of the best people I'd ever known. It was as if I'd suddenly gotten my sister back, but even better. She wanted to learn everything, be everything. She was always taking classes. You may have seen some of her paintings. She's fantastic. She was crazy about cars and got her mechanic's license when she was fifteen. She and Letty went to the Indianapolis speed races a few years ago, and she persuaded one of the drivers to let her help in the pit."

"You didn't go along?"

She shook her head. "I wanted to go. I was busy." She made a face. "I'm always busy."

"Trying to save her life."

"She's made it a wonderful life. And we all have our places in it." She looked down into her drink. "There's so much love in her, and every day she sees things that you and I just take for granted." She smiled. "Like to night, when she took one look at this Russian party barge and knew it was just one more experience to be savored."

Tavak chuckled as they watched Allie try to communicate with her new Russian friends with an assortment of hand signals. "She loves you very much. She threatened to take me down if I crossed you."

Rachel frowned. "Take you down?"

"Her exact words. And elaborated it with a promise to destroy me. She's watching your back." He glanced down at her. "I'll just have to convince her that I'm watching it, too."

"As long as I don't step on your toes while you're running toward Peseshet's treasure."

"How do you know I wouldn't step aside for you?"

His tone was quizzical, but there was a curious note that made her gaze fly to his face. What she saw there made her eyes drop quickly to her drink. She was suddenly acutely aware of everything about him. The smell of a spicy aftershave, his long fingers on the glass holding the drink, the strength of his shoulders, the tightness of his stomach and buttocks. The desire to reach out and touch him was dizzying in intensity. What was happening to her? Stupid, she knew what was happening. Sex. Just try not to let him see he was disturbing her. "Because that's not your modus operandi. If I've found out one thing from being with you, it's that you don't meekly step aside for anyone."

"You never know," he murmured. "Maybe Peseshet is casting out her serene influence and trying to change me."

"Not likely."

He was silent a moment. "You're probably right." He was suddenly smiling recklessly. "So I've just got to go with what I am." He grabbed her hand. "Come on. I'll hoist you on my shoulders, and we'll give Allie a run for her money."