James Acton 01 - The Protocol (20 page)

“Show me that room,” said Reading.

“Rodney, you show them the room. I have to call the Archaeology Head to let them know so they can come down here to see if anything is missing.”

“Yes, okay.” Rodney realized he wouldn’t be getting out of this situation anytime soon. “This way, gentlemen.” Reading and Chaney followed Rodney out of the room as Clive grabbed a binder of emergency numbers and found the home number for the Archaeology Head. He was relieved Rodney was out of the room and with the police.
Something isn’t right here. He had to have let them in.
Again he felt the pain in his chest.

He found the number and dialed. He was surprised when the phone picked up right away and the person sounded wide-awake. “Sorry to disturb you at this hour. This is Clive Obrock, I’m security chief for the night-watch at the Museum. It appears there has been a break-in at the archaeology storage room and we’d like you to come down here, right away. The police are already here.” He listened to the response on the other end. “Okay, we’ll see you in fifteen minutes, Professor Palmer.”

Laura Palmer’s Flat, London, England

Laura hung up the phone and turned to Acton. “There’s been a break-in at the museum. I have to go down and identify what’s missing.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Acton, getting up off the couch.

“Are you sure that’s wise? What if someone sees you?”

“If they knew where I was they’d have been here by now. But we do need to hide this somewhere,” said Acton, holding up the bag containing the skull.

Laura nodded and smiled. “I have just the place.” She walked to the living room table and knelt down beside it. “Press those two corners in,” she said, pointing to the corners at the end nearest Acton. They were of a different color wood, but didn’t look like they should be able to move. Acton pressed on them. They didn’t move. Laura pressed on the two at her end and with a click all four corners came free. He pushed them down as far as he could at the same time Laura did. This turned out to be about two inches. Laura then grasped two sides of the tabletop and twisted clockwise ninety degrees.

“Grab this side and pull up and toward you when I do,” she said as she moved to the left and grasped the side of the table opposite Acton. “Ready?”

Acton nodded.

“Now!” They both lifted and the tabletop split in the middle as it rose, then came outward toward them.

Acton stood, amazed at the sight of the two-foot square hold in the center of the solid block of wood that made up the body of the table. “Incredible!”

Laura smiled. “It’s ancient Chinese. The wood is thick enough that it won’t sound hollow, but you can hide a fair amount of stuff inside like important scrolls, jewels, or in this case,” she paused as she held up the artifact, “one crystal skull.”

Acton smiled as she put the skull into the cavity. They reversed the procedure and returned the table to normal.

“Nobody will find it in there,” she said. “Now let’s get to the museum. I’ll be able to show you the other one, as well.”

Paris, France

It was a beautiful, quiet night on the Seine in Paris. The restaurant hummed with quiet dignity, no loud drunken conversations ruining the evening. A string quartet played in the corner, loud enough to be heard, but low enough to not be intrusive. The lighting was just right for an evening of romance, which is exactly what Henri was hoping for. He looked across the table at his beautiful date, not believing his luck. Having blown his entire week’s pay on this, he was going to enjoy it.

Henri was sipping his wine when his phone rang. “Pardonnez moi,” he said to his companion. He fished it out of his pocket and took the call. “Allo?”

“Thirty-two. Sixteen. Oh Seven. Execute Red,” was all he heard.

“I’m so-ree baht you must av de wrong numbare,” he said and hung up.

His heart sunk. Now he would never know how the evening might have ended. He forced a smile across the table. “Désolé, je dois y aller.”
I’m sorry, I must go.

British Museum, London

Rodney waved to the camera when they reached the storage room door and a buzzer sounded as Clive let them in. The three men entered and looked around. “Doesn’t look like they took anything,” said Rodney.

Reading and Chaney continued to look, apparently unconvinced.

“Maybe it was a security drill?” he suggested. “In the morning they’ll fire us all for having failed?” He laughed nervously.

The only response was a grunt from Reading. They walked up and down the aisles and saw nothing out of place. As they made their way back to the entrance, Chaney stopped and pointed to the floor by the rolling ladder. “Look.”

“What is it?” asked Reading.

“The marks on the floor look fresh, like someone forgot to take the brake off.” He knelt down and picked up some of the shavings from the concrete floor, rubbing them between his fingers.

“How often is this room cleaned?” asked Reading.

Rodney looked at the floor. “I’m not sure, once a week maybe?” Reading stared back at him. “I’ll find out.” He turned away and called Clive on his radio.

“How’s it look in there?” asked Clive.

“Everything looks fine. They want to know how often the floors are cleaned.”

“Every week, you know that! You let them in last night.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot, sorry. I’ll let them know.”

“Okay, and tell them Professor Palmer will be here any minute to check over the inventory.”

“What?” Rodney almost shouted into the radio. He looked over uneasily at the detectives.

“Is there a problem?” asked Chaney.

“N-no, just nerves, I guess,” said Rodney who turned back to his radio and whispered. “Why did you call her?”

“Procedure. I’ll have Paul bring her to you.”

“No!” said Rodney in a loud whisper.

“What?”

“No, I’ll go get her, I’m not that far from the entrance,” he said, trying to calm his voice. Then he raised it a little more for the benefit of everyone in the room. “I think we can trust the police alone in the room for a couple of minutes.” He glanced at them with a forced smile. Chaney nodded back at him.

“Fine, but you better hurry. Looks like she’s here,” said Clive followed by a pause. “That’s strange, she seems to have brought someone. Just a min—”

Rodney cut him off. “I’m on my way!” He headed to the door and glanced at Reading and Chaney as he fumbled with the handle. “I’ll be back in five minutes.” He closed the door behind him, then sprinted toward the security entrance.

The Himalayas, Nepal

The only noise in the monastery was the heavy breathing of the sleeping monks. Eight in a room, they had a simple wooden bed with a blanket to keep the cold at bay. A small stove near the far wall provided welcome warmth. Chen was lying on his bedroll when a sudden vibration coursing through his body woke him. It was as if his entire skeleton was pulsing from the spine outward. It took him a moment to realize what it was. He glanced around to see if anyone could see him. All clear. He reached under his bedroll and removed the satellite phone hidden there. He unfolded the antenna and hit the
Talk
button.

“Forty-four. Sixteen. Oh Three. Execute Red.”

Chen’s heart pounded in his chest as he hung up and returned the phone to its hiding place. He had known this day might come, but had never expected it to. Standing, he walked down the long passageway leading from the sleeping quarters to the main temple. Inside, he found the Lama kneeling in front of a large golden statue of Buddha. He walked up and knelt beside him, clasping his hands, giving reverence to that which had guided him for so many years.

“Father, I am so sorry to interrupt, but I must.”

The revered monk beside him remained facing forward. “What is it, my son?”

“I cannot explain why, but I must take the Crystal Oracle. It is for your protection and its preservation.”

“I understand my son,” said the Lama. “If this is your destiny, then you must fulfill it. Go in peace, with my blessing.”

Chen nodded and rose. He entered one of the side chambers and approached the Crystal Oracle which sat on a pedestal, surrounded by candles. Taking a burlap bag from under his robes, he placed the sculpture inside. He then walked directly out of the temple and began the long trek down the mountain.

British Museum, London

Laura and Acton approached the security entrance and pressed the buzzer. The rain had let up but a heavy mist still dampened the night air. A moment later a voice came over the intercom. “Security.”

“This is Professor Palmer, I was told to come here. Apparently there was a robbery?”

“Yes, Professor,” replied the voice. “Who is with you?”

“A colleague from the United States.”

“Name please.”

She looked at Acton and whispered, her head turned away from the camera, “They can’t possibly be looking for you here.” He nodded. She turned back to the intercom. “Professor Acton.”

“Very well, your escort will be there momentarily. Please wait.” The connection fell silent. They only had to wait a moment before they heard a buzzing sound, then the door burst open.

Salem, Virginia

Madely’s cell phone rang, waking him out of a deep sleep. Feeling guilty, he looked at his watch.
4 a.m.
He knew he shouldn’t be sleeping, but the old lady never, in the six years he’d been observing her, left her house until 9 a.m. unless on a tour. His partner was in the passenger seat, his head cocked backward, leaning against the window. His mouth was wide open, his snoring loud enough to wake the neighborhood.
I guess I’m not the only one.

He answered the phone.

“Twelve Twelve Oh Five, Execute Red.”

His pulse raced and adrenaline rushed into his veins. He punched his partner on the shoulder. “Johnson, wake up!” Johnson snorted a couple of times then came to.

“What?” he asked groggily, “What’s going on?”

“We’ve been ordered to execute Plan Red!”

Johnson bolted upright in his seat and straightened himself. The two men exited the car and approached the house they’d had under surveillance just down the road. Walking to the doorstep, they rang the doorbell.
Four a.m.!

It took a few minutes, but eventually a light came on deep in the house and footsteps approached then stopped at the door. Someone unlatched the door and opened it. The ninety-something lady who greeted them was by no means frail. She traveled the world on a regular basis and through observing her for years they knew her to be very independent.

“Ahhh, my shadows,” she said.

Madely and Johnson looked at each other, dumbfounded.

“Come in, come in,” she said as she backed up, opening the door wider. They entered the house and she closed the door behind them. “Can I get you something, some tea perhaps?”

“No thank you, ma’am, I’m afraid—”

She cut him off with a wave of her finger. “You’ve come for my Daddy’s skull, haven’t you?”

Madely looked shocked. “How did you know?”

She chuckled. “Your group, the Triarii, isn’t it? Your group has been following me since I found the skull in that cave in 1927. It’s about time you said hello.”

“I don’t know what to say, ma’am,” said Madely.

“Well, I came to the determination long ago that you people weren’t here to hurt me,” she explained. “I guess I came to feel that you were my protectors.”

“How do you know about the Triarii?” asked Johnson.

“In my over ninety years I’ve picked up a few things along the way,” she smiled. “Now, if you’re here for the skull, I assume something has gone wrong?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Madely. “I’m afraid we must take it, at least temporarily, until the situation is resolved.”

“And will it be resolved?”

“I hope so, ma’am.”

She nodded and walked over to a cabinet. Taking a key from around her neck, she inserted it into the lock and opened the doors wide. Inside, the skull rested on a small, velvet covered pedestal. She picked it up gently, gave it a small kiss on the forehead, then handed it to Madely. “Be careful with my baby,” she said, tears in her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am, we will.” Madely placed the skull in the case Johnson held. He pulled a card out of his pocket with the Triarii symbol embossed on it, and nothing else. “If anyone comes looking for the skull, give them this. It will protect you.”

She nodded. “Thank you, my dears.”

With that, the two men left, leaving the old lady feeling more alone than she had ever felt.

British Museum, London

Rodney almost flew into the two people standing at the door.

“Sorry, Professor Palmer,” he stammered. “Just a little excited you know, what with the police here and all.” His hand shook as he offered it. “I’m Rodney.” She shook his hand and before she could introduce the other man he cut her off. “Nothing seems to be missing, I’m not sure if you’re even needed.” He noticed the man standing beside her. “Professor Acton! What are you doing here?”

Acton and Laura looked at each other. “How do you know who I am?”

Rodney realized he had made a terrible blunder, but it was too late now. “I, um, I must have seen your face…shite, just a minute.” He walked away from them and dialed his cell phone. His radio crackled.

“Rodney, what’s going on down there?” asked Clive. “Why aren’t you bringing them in?” Rodney reached down and turned off his radio.

“Yes?” said the voice.

“Acton is here!” whispered Rodney.

“What?” exclaimed the other voice, the first time Rodney had ever heard it carry emotion. “Are the police still there?”

“Yes. What do I do?”

“The police are looking for the professor in connection with a murder. You must warn him and see if he’ll come in,” instructed the voice.

“Okay, I’ll try.” The line went dead.

He turned back to the two professors. “I’m sorry about that.”

“How do you know who I am?” demanded Acton.