Текст книги "26 - Storm Cycle "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

FOURTEEN

MATULIK CARGO AIRPORT

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA

Tavak pocketed his phone and joined Rachel and Allie in the small aircraft hangar where Demanski's jet was warming up.

Rachel moved toward him. "Okay, tell us how we're going to find that mastaba wall."

His brows lifted. "You're assuming I know."

"You didn't know an hour ago, but now you do. At least you think you do."

Tavak's gaze narrowed on her. "How do you figure that?"

"You're walking straighter now, your stride is longer, and your jaw is clenched. All signs of a man with a plan. Am I right?"

"A tentative plan. And here I thought you were only proficient at reading that computer of yours."

"And are you going to share this brilliant plan with us?" Allie asked.

"I said tentative, not brilliant."

"Either way, you'd better tell us, dammit." Demanski walked up from the other side of his jet. "Remember, I'm on the hook for that thing. Or at least my insurance company is."

Tavak shrugged. "It just occurred to me that whatever information that mastaba wall holds, photographic images alone aren't enough to unlock them. Dawson needs to get an expert in front of it. That's the key."

"For him or us?" Rachel said.

"Us. Because as far as I've been informed, Dawson has consulted only two Egyptologists since he's been on this trail—Dr. Scott Collier from Cambridge and Dr. James Wiley from the University of Chicago. I'm pretty sure he will either take the wall to one of them or bring one of them to it."

"Unless he's found someone new and brighter," Demanski said.

"It's possible, but Dawson probably wouldn't risk forging a new relationship over such a high-profile stolen piece. Every major newspaper in the world will be printing a picture of that mastaba wall tomorrow. Dawson will go to someone he can trust."

Rachel nodded. "So we get to them first."

"If it's not too late," Demanski said.

"I really don't think it is. Dawson had to move fast once he found out you were taking the mastaba wall away."

Allie glanced thoughtfully at Demanski. "That's one thing I can't figure out. How did Dawson find out Demanski was taking it away tonight? We sure as hell didn't know."

Tavak shrugged. "A lot of people could have tipped him off. Dawson may have been making his own inquiries at the museum, and someone there could have told him. And you mentioned your insurance company, Demanski. If they were covering the trip, they would have had your entire itinerary. To value the objects, they might have consulted some antiquities experts. The same experts Dawson may have on his payroll." Tavak grimly smiled at Demanski. "I'm not the only one who needs to cover my tracks better."

"So do we tail these Egyptologists and wait for them to make contact with Dawson?" Rachel said.

"That's what I'm thinking. But I need to find out a bit more about them. I just got off the phone with their places of employment, and neither has left town."

Demanski jerked his thumb toward the jet. "So where do I tell him to take us? London or Chicago?"

"Chicago. I think Dawson would be much more likely to consult Dr. Wiley in this instance. Wiley has done much more work in Old Kingdom linguistic studies."

"Okay," Demanski said. "But what are we going to do about hedging our bets with this other expert?"

"We should keep tabs on him, too."

Demanski pulled out his phone. "I know a good P.I. in London."

"Not necessary. I've already made arrangements for a very efficient man to keep an eye on him."

"And you trust him?"

"Completely."

Rachel frowned. "Ben?"

Tavak shook his head. "Nuri. He'll arrive in London from Cairo this afternoon."

AS SALAM INTERNATIONAL HOSPITAL

CAIRO, EGYPT

Ben Leonard gingerly pulled on his shirt as he tried to avoid the nurse's withering stare. "Stop arguing with me, Nuri. I'm going with you."

"Tavak did not invite you." Nuri sat in the hospital-room visitor's chair, his legs extended in front of him and crossed at the ankles. "I only told you I was being sent out of the country so that you would not be concerned when I didn't show up for our daily game of chess."

"I don't give a damn. Tavak would have given the job to me if I hadn't been laid up here in this blasted third-world pig—"

Nuri was holding up his hand. "Do not insult my homeland, or I will be forced to punish you for it." He sighed. "Perhaps you should listen to your nurse. She says you are not ready to leave."

The nurse, a heavyset woman in her sixties, frowned. "Your doctor says it, too. He is on his way to tell you himself."

"Then we'd better get out of here quick, Nuri." Ben opened a cabinet and pulled his belongings down from a high shelf. When Nuri had told him that Tavak had sent for him, Ben had jumped at the chance to get out of this hospital and back to the real world. He felt totally rejuvenated. In the past few days, lying in pain and boredom in that hospital bed, he had even flirted with the idea of partnering with his brother in a Florida car dealership. What the hell had he been thinking? He was no kid, but he wasn't ready to retire in some suburban hellhole.

The nurse grew even more insistent. "You cannot leave until the doctor signs you out!"

"When will he be here?"

"Thirty minutes. Get back into bed!"

"In thirty minutes, I'll be gone. Have you seen my belt?"

The nurse threw up her hands in frustration and stalked out of the room.

"Good," Ben said. "I hate bossy women. She reminds me of my second wife. Now can you get me a ticket on your flight?"

Nuri held up two folded color printouts.

"What's that?" Ben asked.

"Our airline tickets. Cairo to London."

Ben grinned. "Nuri, I could kiss you."

"Don't you dare. I would really punish you then. I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you here at the mercy of that extremely efficient and totally intimidating dragon. I could see how restless you were becoming. I prefer to have control of the situation." He grimaced. "But Mr. Tavak is not going to be pleased with my decision."

"Probably not. But he'll get over it." Ben glanced at him as he closed his suitcase. "Then why are you doing it?"

"I've grown accustomed to beating you at chess. It's excellent for my ego. Also you would probably follow me anyway." His smile faded. "Finally, perhaps because I sympathize with your boredom and frustration. It's difficult to sit and watch a friend be unhappy."

"Are we friends, Nuri? You're not just Tavak's idea of a babysitter?"

"Perhaps it was like that in the beginning," Nuri said quietly. "But that changed, didn't it, Ben?"

"Yes." Nuri had been with him through pain and frustration, and his humor had made both bearable. "Yes, we're friends, Nuri." He paused. "And partners?"

Nuri nodded. "And partners." He picked up the suitcase on the bed. "Come on, we have a flight to catch."

ARDMORE UNIVERSITY

HOUSTON, TEXAS

Val Cho swiped her ID card across the scanner, waited for the reassuring ping, then pushed open the door that led to the computer lab. She had planned to work from her apartment tonight, but it was just too frustrating to deal with the sluggish remote connection with Jonesy. It was easier to drive to the lab in her sweats and grab a few winks on the folding cot she kept in her office. Just like she did almost every other night of the week.

No wonder she couldn't keep a boyfriend. Ah, no biggie. She was young, and there would be plenty of time later to–

She stopped.

There was a single desk lamp on, and she saw movement near the consoles on the far wall.

Who in the hell… ?

She held her breath. Had they heard her?

She crouched low and tried to get a better look between the steel racks. The desk light abruptly switched off, plunging the room in near darkness.

Shit.

Still crouching, Val moved between the server racks. She couldn't see or hear anyone. Where the hell had they gone? The only way out of the lab was down the main corridor. Unless…

A strong pair of hands gripped her shoulders.

She screamed, and the hands violently spun her around to reveal…

"Simon!"

He was laughing as his hands raked her sides, tickling her.

"You asshole!" She hit him in the stomach.

He held his hands up. "Hey, you scared the hell out of me! You told me you needed to get away from this place."

"I did. But you know how it is." She glanced around the darkened lab. "Why didn't you turn on the lights?"

"I guess I didn't want to announce my presence here. After what happened to Rachel, I've been a little spooked."

Val walked over to the wall panel and switched on the overhead lights. "Don't worry. I'm here to protect you now."

"Thanks," he said dryly. "I'm actually glad you're here. I was about to call you."

"About what?"

He motioned for her to follow him back toward his desk. "The project that Rachel and your boyfriend are working on."

"My boyfriend?"

"John Tavak. You have a thing for him, don't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"If you say so." Simon pointed to his desktop monitor. "Rachel and Tavak have Jonesy searching for patterns based on the symbols on those tombs. They're looking for a code based on geography, mathematical theorems, religious signs, and various languages, among other things."

"I know. I've already taken Tavak's program apart and put it back together to figure out how he's doing it. It's brilliant. It's probably one of the most elegant—"

"Enough of the hero worship. The point is, I think Jonesy is onto something."

"What?"

Simon pointed to the screen.

Val leaned over and peered at the scrolling rows of symbols. A text box offered a few lines of explanation:

PATTERN MATCH: DIAMICUS (LANGUAGE)

87% PROBABILITY

DECRYPTING RUN SEQUENCE IN PROGRESS

She turned back to Simon. "Diamicus?"

"It's a dead language. It was probably dead even in Peseshet's time. I just did a quick search on it, and it's not totally understood. There's no Rosetta stone that completely translates it for us. But Jonesy picked up some patterns that suggest it may have been the basis of the code that Peseshet's disciple, Natifah, used."

"This is huge."

"I agree. Should we call Rachel?"

Val checked her watch. "No, she's still in the air. Bundle the output screens and send them to her as an e-mail attachment. She and Tavak will know what to do with them."

* * *

Tavak and Rachel studied the computer readouts that had just come in from Val and Simon on the large LCD screen in the main cabin of Demanski's jet.

"It seems I'm going to have to become fluent in Diamicus," Tavak said. "With all possible speed."

"It's not like taking a Berlitz course." Rachel surveyed several more pages of Jonesy's progress on her laptop, which was connected to the wall screen via a cable port on her armrest. "But if it's any consolation, Jonesy is directing more computing power toward cracking it than there has ever been."

"Brute force computational power is one thing, but instinct and experience also counts for a lot. It might help to have an expert guiding Jonesy's progress."

"I thought you were the expert." Rachel smiled slyly. "In everything."

"I wish that was case. Hard as it may be to believe, I occasionally have to rely on outside expertise."

"Expertise like mine, for example?"

"Don't remind me."

"Didn't you say that James Wiley is an expert in Old Kingdom linguistical studies? Since we're on our way to him right now, is there some way we can use him?"

Tavak shook his head. "I wouldn't even want to try. He's in Dawson's pocket."

"Then whom do you propose?"

"I need to think about it." He smiled. "In the meantime, I'm glad Jonesy is making progress. That's quite a tool you've developed."

She made a face. "You make it sound like a screwdriver."

"No offense. I know that insulting Jonesy would be like calling a woman's child fat or ugly."

"Jonesy's not my child. Don't lump me in with the crazies who think that way. And you're right. It is a tool, but it's one with almost limitless uses. We're only scratching the surface with what's possible for it and other systems like it. Just last week we started an amazing new project."

"What is it?"

"You probably know that most laptops these days have an accelerometer chip inside."

Tavak nodded. "It detects movements to allow the hard drive to protect itself when the laptop is dropped or hit."

"Exactly. One of our software packages configures these chips as makeshift earthquake sensors. Laptops collect seismic data from these thousands of locations and, using models from earlier events, determine in seconds where the quake will spread from the epicenter. We might be able to send alarms minutes before a quake hits a major city. Can you imagine the lives we can save?"

"You're doing this now?"

"Yes. Seismic-monitoring stations in any given area once only numbered in the dozens. Now there are thousands. In a few years, with all those laptops running our software, it could be millions."

Tavak smiled. "When I was researching you, I was wondering if you'd be like this."

"A total geek?"

"An idealist."

"I've never been accused of being that."

"But you are. These projects aren't just a proof of concept for your computer system. You're trying to save the world."

She'd thought Tavak was teasing her, but now she realized that he was dead serious. There was genuine admiration in his face and voice. Good God, she could feel the heat flush her face. Great. Next she and Val would be comparing notes about Tavak at a sleepover.

"I'm not trying to save the entire world. Maybe a few million people. Plus my sister."

"Fair enough. Your system controls an amazing amount of computing power. You designed it to do all these amazing things for the good of mankind, but have you taken a moment to think of the harm it can do?"

"You've been watching too many Terminator movies."

"It's not the machines I'm afraid of. It's the humans controlling the machines. Instead of trying to break an ancient code, what if I had tasked your system to crack nuclear launch sequences? Or instead of synthesizing protein strings, someone used it to synthesize an incurable disease? For every wonderful thing of which Jonesy is capable, it's also capable of a horrific act we can't even imagine. I'm sure you've considered that there are people out there who will make it their business to imagine these things."

"Of course, I have. It goes with the territory," Rachel said. "This conversation has taken a grim turn."

"Sorry, but it's been something I've been thinking about even before I met you. It's a tremendous responsibility. I sure wouldn't want it."

"Point taken. Neither do I. But I made the commitment, and I have to ride with it."

"And you do it well."

Why did those words mean so much? So he might be one of the most brilliant and ingenious men she had ever met. She wasn't even sure she could trust him.

It didn't seem to matter. When she was with him, it was like being swept away to a place where anything was possible. It might only be that she was drawn to him physically. Oh, yes, there was definitely that factor to figure into that equation. That moment back at the barge had been too revealing to ignore. She had to ignore it. She had to think clearly and weigh everything that was happening. There could be no more disturbing moments like the one earlier this evening.

Tavak glanced toward the back of the plane. "How is your sister doing?"

She eagerly seized at the change of subject. "Tired. Even though she's been feeling better, she's not used to this kind of activity. Demanski is setting her up in one of the staterooms."

"Staterooms? I'll say this, the man knows how to live."

"We could have a worse partner."

"You mean this jet? Yes, it's nice."

"No, not only the money. He's a dynamo. He may be a rough diamond, but he cuts deep." She smiled. "You once told me that you were like him. You're right, I can see you hijacking that mastaba wall. I think that's why you're so angry with him."

"Maybe. But if he hadn't bribed that mastaba wall out of the museum, it probably never would have been taken. And now not only do we not have it, Dawson almost certainly does. I'm not at all pleased about that. Demanski gets a lot of credit for weakening the power of the Las Vegas crime syndicates, but I'd make a bet he's never dealt with a man like Dawson."

"A criminal is a criminal."

Tavak shook his head. "No, Dawson is a special breed. Ugly. Very ugly. I've learned what drives him, how he thinks. It all comes down to pride. As long as we keep that in mind, it will give us an edge. I know what buttons to push."

"Aren't you afraid of him pushing your buttons?"

"I'd be a fool if I wasn't."

* * *

Demanski switched on a light in the rear of the plane, and Allie's eyes widened at the sight of the elegant, well-appointed bedroom that wouldn't have been out of place in a luxury hotel suite.

She burst out laughing. "When I said I wanted to take a nap, I thought we might just push two chairs together."

"That can be arranged, but I think you'll be more comfortable here."

She collapsed on the king-size bed. Lord, it felt good. She had held up pretty well through that nightmare on the bridge. She didn't think that even Rachel had noticed the tremors that had attacked her afterward. Thank heaven everyone had been too frustrated and upset to pay any attention to her. "Uh, yeah. This bed might be a little more comfortable than those chairs."

"Starlight ceiling on or off?" Demanski flipped another switch to demonstrate the hundreds of pinpoints of fiber-optic lights on the room's dark blue ceiling.

She gave him a cool glance. "Definitely off. I don't like being reminded that I'm sleeping in your make-out chamber."

He turned the starlight ceiling off. "No, you're thinking of my stateroom down the hall."

She laughed. "Oh, the one with the heart-shaped bed, the disco lights, and the mirrors everywhere?"

His lips indented. "Don't forget the champagne-glass bathtub."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Of course. I can only take the billionaire playboy thing so far. My room is actually very tasteful."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I'll leave you now. I don't want to disturb you. I know that you're not exactly pleased at my interference in this project."

"Anything that puts Rachel in more danger pisses me off. But it appears we're stuck with you." She was silent a moment. "And I suppose I should be grateful that you saved my neck back there on the bridge."

"That's very generous of you considering that it was my fault your neck was in jeopardy to begin with."

She nodded. "That's true. But you took a chance that you didn't need to take. Life is precious. No one knows that better than I do."

He nodded slowly. "I imagine you're pretty much of an expert."

"At any rate, it would be counterproductive not to cooperate with you." She paused. "As long as you behave in a reasonable manner."

"Oh hell, that blows it. These days I tend to act on instinct instead of reason."

She smiled. "Like stealing that mastaba wall? That wasn't at all reasonable."

"But it got me what I wanted, didn't it?"

"For about an hour."

He made a face. "Okay, rub it in."

"I have. I will." She gazed up at him. "But I have to admit it was a ballsy move."

"What a compliment. I feel as if I've been given the keys to the White House."

"You'd probably install all the historic bedrooms with slot machines."

"Probably. But I'm keeping you from getting your rest." He nodded at the windows. "The window shades will close automatically just before the sun rises, so the light won't bother you. And there's a shower in your bathroom. Do you need anything else?"

"Can I call the U.S. with that phone on the nightstand?"

He nodded. "It's satellite. But I thought you needed to rest."

"I have to call Letty and tell her we're all right."

"Letty?"

"Letty Clark." He was still gazing at her inquiringly, and she said, "My housekeeper, my friend." She added deliberately, "She's also a registered nurse who keeps me company while I'm wasting away."

"Ouch. You know I'd never have said that if I'd thought you were really doing that. I've never seen anyone who looked less ill."

"I didn't mind. I can accept rudeness more easily than cloying pity."

"I'll have to remember that." He smiled. "But I promise I'll make up for my rudeness. Ask anything, and it's yours. Put me to the test."

"Really? You sure know how to spoil a girl."

"I like to make my guests comfortable."

"Even at thirty-seven thousand feet."

"Especially at thirty-seven thousand feet. Flying can be such a hassle."

Allie sat up on one elbow, staring at him. Demanski possessed the same charm and confidence she had seen in television interviews, but in person, his bravado was tempered a bit. A definite improvement, she thought.

"I still haven't figured something out," she said.

"What's that?"

"Why are you bothering with this treasure hunt of ours?"

"You don't think it's worthwhile?"

"Of course I do. But you don't need this. Flying around the world in your luxury jet, checking in on your billion-dollar casinos with Oscar-winning actresses on your arm."

He held up his hands. "Nominees only, I'm afraid. Get your facts straight. I've never dated an Oscar winner."

"My mistake."

"And I'm always on the lookout for a good business opportunity."

"I'm sure you have many opportunities that are far less risky than this."

"True. But as your sister pointed out, I'm a fan of the big idea. The game changer. There aren't many things out there that can rewrite the rule book. But if this works out, we'll be part of something incredible."

"I can't think that big. For me, it's just about staying alive."

"You've been doing a good job of it so far."

"I have. I've been beating the odds since I was thirteen years old. But there are things I can't do."

"Like what?"

"Like having a family."

"You can have children, can't you?"

"I think so. But every time I think about it, I get another reminder that I might not be around to see them grow up. Just last week, I started losing my peripheral vision. I think it's stopped, but you never know. On top of that, GLD is a genetic disease. I had adult-onset GLD, but when it hits infants, it's almost always fatal by the age of two. I just can't risk it."

"Too bad. Is there a man in your life?"

"No one special. You wouldn't believe how many guys out there try to cast themselves as my rescuer. It's the Galahad complex. Needless to say, I don't keep them around long."

"Needless to say." He crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser. "Meeting you on this trip was actually a pleasant surprise. My intel didn't tell me you were a part of this expedition."

"Last-minute addition."

"I spoke with Rachel about you in Las Vegas, but I didn't tell her how taken I was with your paintings."

She gazed at him in surprise. "You've seen my work?"

Demanski nodded. "I'd never seen your paintings in person, but I've recently spent a lot of time looking at them online. They're very powerful."

"Thank you."

He raised his index finger. "Don't go away."

"Where would I go?"

Demanski disappeared through the doorway. In less than a minute, he returned with a large, framed painting. He turned it around to show Allie a landscape with a tiny lone figure on a hilltop dwarfed by a massive evening sky.

Allie's eyes widened. "That's one of mine!"

"I know."

"Where did you get it?"

"The Tauck Gallery in Denver. I saw it on their online catalog and couldn't get it out of my mind. I had them bring it to the airport, and I stopped and picked it up on my way out of the country."

Allie scrambled to the edge of the bed to get a closer look at the painting. "It's called Biography. I sold it to a collector in New Mexico a few years ago. I didn't know it was back on the market."

"Lucky for me it was." Demanski placed the painting on the dresser and gently leaned it against the wall.

Allie stared at it for a long moment. "It's always hard for me to part with my work. They're pieces of me, you know?"

"That's why there's such passion there." Demanski crouched to look at the painting head-on. "The gallery owner gave me her interpretation of it. In her opinion, you're showing how overwhelming the universe is. How it can overpower you and make you feel insignificant."

"Really?" Allie studied the painting, as if trying to see it with different eyes. "Do you agree with that?"

"Not at all."

She turned from the painting to look at his face. Demanski suddenly looked older now that he wasn't trying to be glib. His eyebrows were no longer raised as impish arches, and his jaw wasn't set as firmly.

Not older, she decided. More mature. Grounded. And yes, dammit, fascinating.

"What do you think I'm saying?" she asked.

"This figure on the landscape isn't overwhelmed by anything. It's taking in the majesty of it all, enjoying the infinite possibilities. It's a big world out there, but that's what makes it so wonderful. There's a feeling of excitement, not dread. I see hope."

Allie smiled.

He turned toward her. "So who's right? Me or the gallery owner?"

"Artists shouldn't impose their thoughts on the people who experience their work."

"Don't give me that. What is this about? Hope or dread?"

"It doesn't matter what I think."

"It matters to me."

She looked away for a moment. "It's exactly as you said. Hope."

"I knew it. But I'm glad to hear you say it."

"I only get afraid when options are taken away. In my mind, there's nothing overwhelming about a world of possibilities. This is a celebration, not a requiem. I'm surprised at that gallery owner."

"It says more about her outlook on life than yours. Or mine."

He picked up the painting, but Allie raised her hands to stop him. "Would you mind… leaving it here for a while?"

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "Sure. I'll prop it up down here on the floor. I'd hate for it to get knocked around by turbulence."

"Thank you."

He carefully positioned the painting. "There. But don't get used to having it around. I'm very fond of this piece, and it's not for sale."