Plague of Coins (The Judas Chronicles #1) (9 page)

“Yes...and I can only imagine the level of grief she’s dealing with,” said Cedric. He looked over at her, and she seemed tense, as if afraid of what he might say next. “My condolences to you, Ms. Golden Eagle.... Perhaps you’ll see this as an opportunity to avenge what happened to your parents.”

“There’s no way to redeem my loss...but I do want to find my brother,” she said, softly, as if the very effort to speak reopened the wounds upon her heart.

“Jeremy?”

“Yes. He’s the reason I agreed to do what Michael asked, and I intend to find him.”

Her reserved tone had just ratcheted up several notches, ignited by her seething anger. Adding that passion to the smarts she was born with could serve her well, as long as her intelligence remained in the driver’s seat.

“Hmmm.... I hope you do,” said Cedric. He smiled compassionately. “Are you familiar with an acquaintance of your brother’s, a physics professor named Dr. Ethan Langford?”

“Yeah, I am.... He’s one of Jeremy’s best friends.” The look she wore right then was one of surprise. More like beautiful shock.... Truly, she didn’t seem to possess an ugly expression in her repertoire.

“Were you aware that the two traveled together to Iran last year?”

Man, I knew that sly grin so well. Cedric had her enticed. A few more nibbles would allow him to set his hook within her psych.

“No. No, I wasn’t,” she confessed. “Jeremy never mentioned him—not in our few phone conversations, and he didn’t talk about Ethan in his emails or letters.”

“Well, certainly you can picture the volatile combination of anthropological, geological, and physics expertise between the two of them—especially considering Ethan’s recent work in electron fusion.”

Okay, now I was all ears. Cedric wasn’t one for idle chitchat—just the productive kind. We already knew about the drilling in the mountains, belief in a real Garden of Eden, and a sick rich bastard who likes to hurt people. Now we could add in archaeological and nuclear physics expertise.... Always one to up the ante, I decided to try and solve the puzzle Cedric had just begun to present.

“So, are we talking about the possibility of Stanislav kidnapping the pair to help him find the right mountain to drill in, and then finding a way to improve the drilling process by using fusion—perhaps to quicken the process?”

Alistair and Amy looked at me for a moment as if I’d just lost my damned mind. It didn’t make immediate sense to them. However, Cedric nodded approvingly while a really big smile spread across his face.

“Not bad, William.... Not bad at all!” he said. He set his panatela down in a nearby ashtray so he could add a hand-clapped applause. “You’re close, brother—
real
damned close! I bet if I were to tell you that Ethan was working on a top secret device at the time of his disappearance, you’d soon figure out the rest of the picture.”

“Well, was he?”

It was just Cedric and me now. A dozen years of bouncing off each other’s thoughts meant there was no way in hell my boy and our female lawyer companion could keep pace with where the discussion suddenly veered.

“Yes, he was.” Cedric paused to retrieve his cigar and take a long drag. Perhaps this was his way to regain the upper hand again...to be the big star of this game show. “It’s only the most advanced molecular movement technology in the world. If Petr Stanislav provided the raw materials and full go ahead to develop the device—what they’re calling a ‘fusion generator/reconfiguration beam’—then stopping or recovering this thing is critical. It’s
absolutely
necessary.”

“Okay, so we’re talking about a beam. Like a laser, only this thing can cut easily through rock. Right?”

“The blueprints for it indicate the ‘FGR’—which is the current acronym chosen by the other MIT scientists working on it—not only can cut through granite, but it can also restore molecules to their original state once the incision cools.”

“That would be a wonderful thing, I’d think, for modern medicine,” said Alistair. I guess I was wrong...seems he could follow along just fine. Amy’s approving head-nod suggested it was the same for her. “But Petr Stanislav would have little use for a humanitarian application like that, I’m sure.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” said Cedric, shaking his head slightly as if amused. “He ain’t interested in
nothing
but finding his prize. Even our satellites have confirmed this, and I’ve seen disturbing images of huge chasms cut along several mountainsides. We’re talking holes that are several miles wide, which tells us that he has developed at least ten enormous FGRs that dwarf the original one created by the guys and gals at MIT. But, even worse, is the fact that after a few hours the latest images reveal the holes have disappeared. The mountainsides look just like they did before Stanislav chose to rearrange the Alborz scenery.”

“It sounds like he’s looking for the Garden of Eden and can’t find it,” I said, after connecting more of the dots presented so far. “What a great way to cover up one’s mess and keep looking anew each day. Without solid proof that he’s destroying the environment, he could go on indefinitely. It makes me wonder what this asshole is after.... I doubt finding Bambi lying next to Kumba in a tranquil paradise would do much for him. What could such a man want from a garden of any kind—mystical, mythical, or not?”

“That may be an easier question to answer than it seems at first glance,” said Alistair, drawing everyone’s attention. He smiled, sheepishly. “If the guy is into ancient legends that we know are largely based on superstitions and such, it makes the most sense that he’s looking for something of that nature...only for it to be real. What was it that caused Adam and Eve to be expelled, according to legend? Wasn’t it eating the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Life?”

Damn. Talk about an answer hitting you hard in the face like a sucker punch, though I thought the tree he referred to was better known as the Knowledge Tree of Good versus Evil.

“See, now that just shows I made the right decision in insisting Michael bring you three together for this!”

Cedric clapped his hands together again and started to say something else. But then our stewardess trio returned to the passenger cabin, with Kali walking up to him and extinguishing his cherished panatela.

“Everyone return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts,” she announced. “The pilots are ready to resume our trip to Tehran!”

She motioned for Cedric to move into the Pod behind mine. I now had to wait to find out what he meant by his last comment. He couldn’t have inferred that he actually planned our trip, since I made all arrangements for Alistair’s and my journey once I determined an elusive silver coin awaited discovery in Iran. But a nagging thought made me wonder if that was really true.

Maybe this was more underhanded than I realized. Cedric and the agency could’ve waited all this time for me to make a move.... Perhaps sorting through microfiche in the basement of the Smithsonian wasn’t such a covert personal operation after all. If that were the case, then I shuddered to think that the CIA knew all along what I was studying late at night. A little nudge here and there would be enough to get me excited about Al-haroun.

It meant my search for a certain circulation of silver coins wasn’t as innocently disguised as I had assumed. But unlike my intuitions about Petr Stanislav and his Holy Grail search and seizure plans, this was different. I now needed to find out how much the agency knew about my coin search. The trick, however, was how to do it without revealing in any way that I was on to them.

It wouldn’t be easy, and it might even be dangerous. Perhaps more dangerous than checking up on a certain Russian lunatic looking for his own personal pot of gold...the Tree of Life.

Chapter 9

I wish I could say that I found satisfactory answers to my questions for Cedric. After all, we had a five-hour flight to Tehran. It should’ve meant plenty of time to catch up on old times and find out what the hell was going on behind the scenes that led to this dangerous assignment. But, he was more inclined to ingratiate himself with Amy Golden Eagle—who seemed to have the same effect on all of us. I kept waiting for her to tire of him. Yet, every time she grew weary, my son interjected life into the conversation with his own questions. Innocent queries centered on the FGR device along with other little details about our upcoming trek into the Alborz Mountains.

I say ‘little’ for a reason. Neither Alistair nor Amy had broached the real essential items like backpacks, food, water, and tents. Nor for that matter was there a single inquiry about the weapons we would carry for our defense against Stanislav’s mercenaries. Yes, his personal bodyguards number enough to be considered a small army. How the Iranian government overlooked their presence was beyond me. All of this was important...just not enough for Cedric to share any of it. Not on the plane, anyway.

My questions for Amy were also unaddressed. It surprised me that as comfortable as she and Alistair grew in Cedric’s presence, neither one mentioned the angelic visitations brought up by my son at breakfast. I would’ve jumped right in there for that subject, but it never came up.

Rather than fume over this, I took the time to review my notes concerning Al-haroun. If a scant opportunity presented itself, I still intended to collect my missing coin. Stanislav and the free world’s fate be damned, I was getting what I came for if at all possible. Damned straight.

“You are all staying at the Ferdowsi Grand Hotel, as William had already arranged for him and Alistair,” Cedric advised, as the jet began its final approach toward Khomeni International Airport. “I made sure this morning that all three of your rooms are on the same floor, and high enough to keep the local riff-raff from bothering ya’ll.”

“So, we’ll have a nice view, I take it?” Such an amenity seemed largely wasted on us. It would be dark soon, and from the few details I had learned about our little mission, we’d be heading into the Alborz Mountains soon after daybreak. “Are there any other perks you’ll be throwing in?”

“Just the usual.” He turned his attention to the view of the Alborz Mountains, looming just outside of Tehran’s city limits. “A good night’s rest and a gourmet breakfast, and then it’s time to get to work for ya’ll. Once we get to the hotel, I’ll fill you in with the real details.”

“Such as our mode of transportation, camping supplies, food and ammo to last for however long this reconnaissance will last?”

My unstated question exactly, and I smiled at Alistair for voicing it. He lightly stroked his chin as if missing the beard he normally sports. My son thought it might get too warm for facial hair in the arid wilderness, and yet, after the following morning neither of us would likely get an opportunity to shave until we were ready to return home.

“Yes, of course, Alistair.” Cedric chuckled for a moment. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of surprises. Let’s just say the agency has taken pains to ensure as much comfort and safety as we could squeeze into this assignment. But, each of you must also understand there are certain dangers inherent with this trip.”

“Beyond the usual dangers?” I knew that’s what he meant, but wanted him to spell it out for everyone else.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said, returning his gaze to me. “I think it would benefit everyone if we hold off discussing further details until after we reach the hotel.”

Once the plane taxied toward the terminal, Cedric motioned for us to get our carry-on bags ready.

“We have a car waiting, across from the baggage clam, so I need ya’ll to not waste time going through the security checkpoint.”

He chuckled again as he released his seatbelt, signaling for us to follow him over to the exit door next to the cockpit.

“Aren’t you afraid of three angry Arabs who might be waiting for us to land?”

Yeah, the smartass in me rose for air once more.

“No.... No, I think we’ll be all right for now,” said Cedric, studying my face. He was obviously looking for clues to tell him more about our earlier pursuers without having to ask me. “It’s Russians this time, Willie Boy. Ex-Soviet agents, the leftovers from the elite KGB assassins.”

Frankly, I liked it a helluva lot better the other way. Russian miscreants were nothing to mess with, unless one had no choice.

“Then why in the
hell
are we playing with fire here?” Alistair fumed. At the moment, he and Amy stood behind me. “If it comes to a direct confrontation with them, we’ll all be going home in body bags or caskets!”