James Acton 01 - The Protocol (23 page)

“How could you rely on them to do this? I’ve heard many of these are in private collections.”

“Yes, but over the years we’ve had many fakes created and spread throughout the art world,” explained Rodney. “As well, we’ve discredited some serious owners such as the British Museum and the Smithsonian most recently by rigging a switch for a BBC documentary that then proclaimed them frauds. Many of the real skulls are now believed to be frauds, therefore no one has any interest in them anymore except as oddities. Others, who hold the real skulls, are terrified to actually let them be tested in case theirs too may be proven fake. It’s the perfect situation.

“Most people think the skulls are fake therefore they don’t draw any attention to themselves and the others don’t want to find out that what they own is fake so they remain quiet. There are a few that believe what they have is real, and tour around the world showing them off, but we always have people watching them and protecting the skulls. And, much to their annoyance, discrediting them. There’s a reason why many are considered off their rockers. We strategically place people in the crowds at these events to ask loaded questions, give tainted interviews, etc., just to make the whole thing look like a carnival.”

“But, why? Why not just collect them all and seal them away in separate locations so that no one can bring them together?”

“Part of our belief system is that these skulls were indeed placed here by the gods. We believe that they were sent as a message to mankind, and that when we are ready to understand it, we will. We have come to believe that if the skulls are all locked up and hidden away from humanity, they will not be able to have the influence on people that they are supposed to. By allowing them to move through civilization, with more and more people being exposed, we believe that eventually mankind will evolve to the point where the message will be revealed.”

“Funny, I’ve heard something like that before,” commented Acton, thinking back on his conversation with Laura. “Okay, so your group, the Triarii, essentially track the movement of all of the skulls and take action when necessary to make sure that they don’t come in contact?” summarized Acton. Rodney nodded. “Okay then, who’s trying to kill me?”

Rodney’s expression turned grave.

“A former member of our group.”

When Acton heard who it was his heart sank.

British Museum, London, England

Reading looked at Laura. “Care to change your answer?”

“Okay, fine,” she said. “I met him today. What’s he supposed to have done?”

“He’s wanted for questioning in connection with the torture death of a tourist, a theft from this museum that resulted in the death of seven people, and the death of six police officers,” said Reading.

“He only arrived in London this afternoon!” exclaimed Laura. “How’s he supposed to have killed half the bloody city when he’s been with me almost his entire time in England!”

“I didn’t say he’d killed them personally, but he’s connected somehow. And I’m not sure I believe you when you say nothing is missing.” He turned to Clive. “Is there someone else you can call to verify the contents of that room?”

Clive looked nervously at Professor Palmer. “I, ah, yes, I mean, there should be a backup.”

“Okay, call them and have them go through the storage room and let me know the result,” said Reading, heading for the door. “Professor Palmer, I’d like you to come down to The Yard with me for questioning.”

“I’ll do no such thing! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Professor, if you want I can charge you with interfering in an ongoing police investigation,” said Reading, then in a firmer tone, “or you can come down voluntarily for questioning.”

Laura’s expression conveyed how angry she was, but she acquiesced. She followed Paul out the door with Chaney and Reading bringing up the rear.

Museé du Quay Branly, Paris, France

Henri pulled into the Museé du Quay Branly parking lot in his two stroke Citroën and parked it on an angle, taking up two spots. Grabbing a bag from the backseat, he slung it over his shoulder, approached the employee entrance and waved his badge at the guard. The guard, his head buried in a newspaper, didn’t even look up as he reached to push the buzzer.

“Bonjour, Henri!” said the guard.

Henri smiled. “Bonjour, Jacques! How did you know it was me?”

“That piece of merde you drive can be heard a kilometer away!” Jacques replied as he flipped a page and refolded the paper.

Henri smiled. “Sorry, mon ami, but it is all I can afford on this meager janitor’s salary!”

“If you’d stop turning down the better offers maybe I’d have some sympathy for you!” retorted Jacques as he shook the paper.

Henri laughed and headed to the employee locker room. When he arrived he opened his locker, put his overalls on, then went to the janitor’s storage and retrieved his cart. Emptying garbage cans and ashtrays along the way, he eventually made it to one of the antiquities storage rooms. He ran his pass through the swipe lock and it opened. Pushing his cart inside, he closed the door then lifted the bag out of the cart and strode to a row in the far back. He opened a cardboard box on the bottom shelf and moved the packing material aside. A grinning skull looked up at him. He shivered.

He opened the bag, revealing another skull. He swiftly switched them then put his bag, with the skull in it, in the garbage bag on his cart. He left the room, whistling and finished his rounds, thinking of the beautiful woman he had left on the Seine.
I wonder if she’s still there? The poor girl must be so disappointed.

Montague Place, London, England

“I can’t believe that he’s involved!” exclaimed Acton. He shivered at the thought of it.
Or is it this damned alley?
“And what do you mean by former member?”

“He was a member of the Triarii until about ten years ago. He was actually a member of our senior council. He began to push the view that mankind was ready to unite the skulls and see what their true power was. He felt technology had reached the point where they could be controlled. The council, of course, disagreed. He stole the skull he was responsible for from the Smithsonian. As with many of our members, he was already quite wealthy and powerful. He used this wealth and power to get into the position he now occupies. Since then he has been searching for the skull that you found. It was he that launched the operation that killed your people.”

“How are you going to stop him?”

Rodney smiled. “We have our ways, but remember, he needs three skulls. As of tonight he has two and we are taking steps already to have the other skulls taken into safekeeping.”

“What happened tonight? You said there was a robbery?”

“We had a team enter the museum and switch the real skull for a fake.”

“Laura was right!”

“Yes, we did this once before when it was going to be examined for the BBC documentary. It was unfortunate that Professor Palmer was so embarrassed by that incident, however she seems to have recovered from it, since she is now the head of the department.”

“Yes, but something went wrong this time?”

“Our team was ambushed and killed. They managed to switch the skulls, but when they left they were attacked and the real skull was taken. I don’t know more than that. I’ll know more when we go in.”

“You keep saying ‘we’,” said Acton. “Why do you think I would go in with you? Just because you told some long elaborate story doesn’t mean I trust you or even necessarily believe you. It all seems a bit fantastic to me.”

Rodney’s cell phone rang. He flipped it open and listened. He hung up and looked at Acton. “Professor Palmer has been nicked.”

RAF Lakenheath, USAF 48
^th
Fighter Wing

The C17 Globemaster III Tactical Transport Aircraft had just landed, its four Pratt and Whitney PW2040 turbofan engines, each capable of over forty thousand pounds of thrust, were still winding down. Red was already yelling at the ground crew to hustle on the unloading, knowing they would need the equipment quickly. “Get the bird set up and armed ASAP!”

“Armed?” asked the Crew Chief. “With what?”

“What do you mean, ‘with what’?”

“In case you’re not aware, we have a little thing going on over in Iraq and Afghanistan,” retorted the Chief. Red glared at him. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

“You do that.”
B.D. is going to be pissed.
He climbed into his Humvee and headed back to the temporary headquarters. Entering the rec room, he found Dawson relaxing with the team, who seemed to be enjoying themselves for the first time in days.

Dawson sat in a reclining chair, squeezing a stress ball. He looked at Red as he entered the room and motioned for him to come over.

“That’ll learn ya!” bellowed Smitty, who had just won a game of pool. He took the money from the table and yelled, “Who’s next?” Red smiled at the display as he sat in a chair across from his friend.

“Our gear’s arrived. They’re setting up the bird now, don’t know about ordinance though.”

“Explain.”

“Apparently there’s a shortage.”

“Fine, we’ll make do,” replied Dawson. “We always do.” Then he leaned closer to Red and lowered his voice. “When you were seconded to DARPA, did you ever hear of anything called Structural Amorphous Metals?” he asked, looking at his second-in-command.

“Yeah, the SAM project, something to do with extremely strong metals or something,” recalled Red. “Why?”

“Any chance that our sculpture could be made of it?”

Red shook his head. “Not unless the project took a u-turn. They were dealing with crystalline structures, not blocks of crystal.”

“Do you have any contacts still there?”

“Yeah, one or two.” Red nodded. “Want me to make some calls?”

“Discretely, on secure lines.”

Red got up and headed to the communications room.

Beijing, China

Huang looked at the text message he had received on his Chinese built Samsung phone and frowned.
One of these days China will be designing, not just building, the products the world uses!
As a Vice-Chairperson of the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress, he was a stone’s throw from leading his glorious country. He had been a General in the People’s Liberation Army then used that power and influence to become rich in the newly opened economy. This had given him even more influence and he had been appointed to his current position. If he played his cards right, he would soon be President.

But not today. Today, he had to fulfill his primary duty in life. Rising from his desk, he unlocked a cabinet on the far wall of his office. He entered a code on the safe inside and it hissed open. Removing a case it contained, he closed the safe and walked down the long corridor of his office building in the Zhongnanhai complex.

As he approached the President’s office, the two soldiers guarding the entrance snapped their heels in respect, one opening the door. He entered the outer office and bowed slightly to the secretary as she rose. She bowed deeply to her superior.

“I am sorry, sir, but the President is not in, he is away on business in Shanghai,” she said meekly, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you not think that I am fully aware of that?” His sarcastic tone was intended to belittle her. “I have a package for him that I must personally deliver to the safety of his office.”

“Of course, sir, you may leave it with me and I will make certain that he receives it,” she answered.

“Absolutely not. I am under strict orders from the Chairman himself to put this file in his office personally.” With that, he walked past her, opened the door to the inner office and closed it behind him, leaving the flabbergasted secretary wondering what to do.

Swiftly walking to a side table, he opened his case and removed a velvet wrapped package from inside. He unwrapped it to reveal a crystal skull. Walking over to a pedestal in the corner that contained the real skull, his charge of many years, he switched the two, placing the real skull in his case, again carefully wrapped. He locked the case, looked about the office, and strode out purposefully, ignoring the secretary.

Triarii Headquarters, London, England

The Proconsul was very pleased. All of the plans had been executed like clockwork. All over the world the skulls were being moved into secret locations known only to the members in this room and one backup each. No one in the room knew the backup location of more than one skull except for him. He knew where the original two were.

“Now that we have protected our charge we must now consider relocating, at least temporarily,” he said. “We have a rogue element with unknown intentions that has just detonated a bomb on the street above who clearly knows our location and has the capabilities to reach it.” There were nods of ascent from around the room. “Very well, we will move immediately to our Beta Site. Is there any other business that must be concluded before we adjourn?”

The British Museum member spoke up. “Sir, I have just learned that Professor Palmer has been taken into custody for questioning. As well, our operative is currently with Professor Acton. One or both of them definitely knows where the third skull is. We should try to bring them both in for their protection.”

“Agreed,” said the Proconsul. “Make it happen.” He stood, ending the meeting, and headed toward his office with a heavy heart. He had served as Proconsul for over ten years, ever since the last Proconsul, his uncle, had died of cancer. As he headed down the long stone corridor he passed the offices of the other members, some of whom were already inside packing their personal items in boxes and destroying papers. He looked fondly at the British Museum member’s office as he passed. It had been his for almost twenty years.

He entered his office and closed the door, locking it behind him. Walking over to the large bookcase on the left, he pulled open two panels in the middle revealing an assortment of liquors and glasses. Selecting a 1968 Macallan scotch, he poured a double shot into a glass, held it up and shrugged his shoulders.
I won’t be taking it with me.
He added a bit more then went to a large, comfortable chair sitting in the far left corner of the room.