The Decrypter: Secret of the Lost Manuscript (Calla Cress Techno Thriller Series: Book 1) (53 page)

Mark found Eichel’s notes and compared them to the translation he’d placed on Eva’s desk.  “According to these notes, the German police are still baffled.  Perhaps we can beat them to it.”

Eva beamed.  “Good work, Mark.  That’ll be all.”

Mark stood to leave.  “I would advise you to take some sort of protection on this one.  Do you own a gun?  This person is a former agent.  They may not like trespassers.”

With that, Mark left.

Eva found the address online and keyed in the details into her cell phone’s global positioning system.  Judging from the satellite images, it was an unusual postcode for a manor home.  A small footnote had been blogged below the address.

The castle was abandoned in 2001 after a fire caused by lightning.  It’s still privately owned, but there’s no evidence of anyone living there. 

Eva fetched her things.

* * *

9:29 A.M.

Ten Miles From Masindi

Northern Uganda

The lead henchmen smirked.  He tossed Calla’s bag to Slate.  “Here’s your loot!  Where’s my cash?”

Slate grappled the bag and tore it open.  He peeked inside spotting the manuscript, the journal, and the two black diamonds.  “Where’s the girl?”

“Not my problem. Only the bush can tell.”

For a moment, Slate contemplated embezzling the items and selling them to the highest purchaser.  Should he really give them back to Mason?  If only he were smart enough to know what to do with them.  Could he hunt out Mason’s clients himself?

He placed the items on the camp table and threw two-hundred-thousand Uganda shillings at the men.  “Take your money and get out of here.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

4:09 P.M.

Berkingsworth Manor

The Cotswolds, England

Eva caught sight of the manor home at the end of the gated driveway.  The drive from London had taken her close to two hours along the M14.  Her global positioning system had served her well and the curvy, countryside drive had not fazed her.  It had actually given her time to process the information she’d received from Mark.

She slouched against the door as she drove up the path.
Why did SILVER X3 abandon the Deveron case?

Her white Bentley decelerated up the ramp and drifted to a halt at the entrance of a red-brick English home. 

Eva imagined that it had once been a gentry home.  But right now, she was keen to meet its current owner. 

Despite the rumored fire, the property was in good order except for a shattered window here and there - probably caused by the occasional unwanted guests.

Must be a recluse.

Eva scanned the local newspaper clipping she had researched on the fire.  No one had been hurt.  The owner had battled the fire with the local fire brigade saving much of the timeless property.

She sprang out of the car and slinked around the manor grounds.  The courtyard to the south presented the most picturesque scene, with it gables, lofty chimney-stacks and a residual, staircase turret. The place must have been a fabulous home. 

She glimpsed to the charred east wall, obviously a souvenir from the fire imagining what a high-quality renovation would do for the place.  She circled the grounds twice, before making her way up to the front door.

She pounded on the solid oak. 

No acknowledgment came from within.  She stole to the west side of the property and peeked through the window.  The window ledge forbade any clear visibility, its elevation higher than she’d anticipated.  Leaning a knee up on the windowsill, she peered through the broken glass. A tattered curtain veiled her view.

She hurtled down the stonewall and caught her high heeled boot within the openings between the stones.  “
Connard!
  Idiot! Not my new boots!”

Eva stooped down in an attempt to rescue her stylish footwear, tugging at the thin leather.

On the east side of the building, away from prying eyes, a man stood at his sink glancing out.  Discarded dishes, cutlery and clammy cups piled the kitchen sink to the brim.  The floors crawled with unflustered ants and minuscule guests scavenged whatever crumbs they could salvage on the pest-ridden floor.  Despite the unkempt condition, the house clearly showed clues of its former regality.

The man ripped open a soda can and guzzled its contents.  His gaze drifted towards the courtyard. 

Startled by the snooping woman, he swore under his breath.  “What the—”

He turned his eyes to the end of the court to see if the sign he’d posted a week ago was still on the lawn.  From where it stood it was as clear as foil.

PRIVATE PROPERTY - NO TRESPASSERS

Squatters and teenagers had wrecked his property for months, obviously assuming the place abandoned. 

Could he blame them?  He hardly resurfaced from the lower quarters where he resided most of the time. He stationed his half-empty can on the counter.  “I’m sick and tired of you youngsters thinking you can use my property like some sort of weekend camp-out for alcohol, drugs and God knows what!”

The man rambled towards the kitchen door and picked up his Blaser, R8 Barrel rifle.  He left the house by a back staircase that led out into the courtyard. “Hey!”

Eva flipped round.  She yanked her shoe from the stone gaps, injuring her big toe in the process.  She glared up at the distinguished, silver-haired man. He approached, dressed in worn denims and a plaid shirt under a brown-leather jacket. 

He would be her father’s age and the anger in his eyes disguised his somewhat compassionate face. Yet his gun barrel communicated louder than language, as he marked it at her.

* * *

9:31 A.M.

The beast edged closer, his hooves thudding in a charge. 

Paralyzed into stillness, Calla held her breath. 

She couldn’t run. 
Not with this ankle.

She recoiled in a backward crawl as the charging water buffalo made its move towards her.  Calla gawked at the animal for several seconds. 
Let’s see what you’ve got.

She shut her eyes tight. 

The thudding hooves shuddered to a halt. 

 She opened one eye.

The animal stood motionless with its vicious gaze still upon her.  It edged back retracing its steps without turning around.  She studied the giant mammal. He was not looking at her but at something behind her.  In one move, the beast bolted in the opposite direction.
What the—

Calla whipped her head around.   Her wounds pulsing in a mania of agony, the scorching sun blinded her vision.  A silhouetted figure stood arched over her.  She coughed and squinted for a better look.  Her vision was hazy, but someone stood peering down at her.  A woman with three long braids. 
Can it be?

Calla’s lips mouthed the thought she feared to utter.  It came out as a whisper.  “Allegra?”

Allegra cast her a grim look.

Calla’s eyes focused.  She tried to stand.  “Allegra, is it really you?”

“Don’t move, Calla, you’re badly hurt.”

“How…how...how did you find me?”

Allegra helped her stand on one foot. Entraped with bewilderment, Calla’s words shot out in a raspy whisper.  “You’re alive!”

Allegra smiled.  “Be still, Calla.  It’s time you met your family.  Let’s go!”

THIRD

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

9:43 A.M.

Murchison Falls Valley

Allegra reached out and grazed her hand over Calla’s wounded ankle.  The pain subsided a little.  “We need to move now.”

Allegra hoisted Calla’s arm onto her shoulder.

Relief at seeing her friend and the eased pain reassured Calla.  She hopped alongside and stopped to glare at her.  “We can’t go.  Jack and Nash were—”

She paused to inhale. “We can’t leave yet.  I took this thing too far, Allegra.  They were all I had.”

Allegra’s calm face saddened, but she continued walking, supporting Calla along towards a waiting, Land Rover Jeep. 

Allegra helped her onto the front passenger seat. “What happened to them?”

Calla carefully placed her injured ankle on the floor.  “I’ve so much to tell you.  It all started with the Berlin trip.  What happened to you in Berlin?”

Allegra did not respond.

Calla shifted in her seat for comfort.  “Then came the carbonados and now there’s this thing Mason’s done.”

Allegra’s eyes lit up.  “The carbonados?  Did you find them?”

Calla relaxed her head against the headrest, glad to be able to recline comfortably after the incredible run in the wilderness.  She glanced over at Allegra’s expectant face.  “You know about the rocks?”

Allegra nodded.

“We found two,” Calla said.  “I used several of your notes and the black journal we found at the British Library to translate the Deveron.”

“The journal was there?” Allegra asked.

Allegra closed the door on Calla’s side and glared through the open window.  “Tell me on the way.  We’re running out of time.  If you only have two of the stones, time is running out to find the third.”

“I don’t have the stones,” Calla said.

“But you said you found them.”

“Yes, but I didn’t get to the part where—” Her tone lowered. “Nash and Jack are gone, Allegra. Mason…His thugs took the stones.”

Allegra frowned and hurtled round to the driver’s seat, her laced braids swirling behind her.  She jumped in the car and started the engine.  “Well, at least we have the manuscript.”

Calla glanced ahead.  “No.  That’s gone too.”

“This is worse than I thought.”

* * *

4:20 P.M.

“Who are you?  You kids should stop playing around my property!” bellowed the man in a monotone drawl.

“I was just—” Eva said.

“You seem a little old for a teenager.”

He glimpsed over at her tattered shoe.  “Then again judging from your shoes and car, you’ve spent a few years out of college.  Or is it a gift from daddy or a doting boyfriend?”

Eva frowned, her foot aching from the abrupt slip.  “I…I’m looking for someone.”

“French, I see.  Are you a tourist?”

“No.”

“Can’t you read the sign?  I would imagine anyone who drives a Bentley Continental GTC would have some sort of literacy level.  Get out!”

Eva leapt safely onto the ground with a hand on her pounding foot.  Though his words were aggressive, Eva detected his nature was anything but hostile.

His rifle marked her petrified face.  “What’re you doing on my property?” he demanded.

He could aim an accurate shot from the twenty-foot distance. She was sure of it.

Eva didn’t shift a muscle.  “As I said, I’m looking for someone, sir.”

“Who?”

“I don’t have a name, just a code. Agent SILVER X3.”

The man glanced away from the ocular lens of his gun and hesitated.  “Do you think I’m an idiot?  How dare you come here with such rubbish!  I’m tired of you kids treating my property like it was your own spring break retreat.”

Eva lost all fear.  “Are you agent SILVER X3?”

The man prepped his firearm and advanced forward. 

Eva swallowed.
He won’t hesitate to fire that gun
.

She took one step closer, her eyes firmly fixed on his.  “I’m a journalist investigating the Deveron Manuscript.” She gaped at his lime-colored eyes.  “Tell me if you are SILVER X3? The agent who worked on this case for the Secret Intelligence Service. Maybe thirty-some years ago?

The man did not answer.

Eva took another quivering step.  “Can you help me?”

The man raised his rifle and fired a shot in the air.  “If you don’t leave in five seconds, I’ll do more damage to your shoes than that wall did.”

He leveled his gun to her feet. 

She delayed.

“One!”

She took a step back.

“Two!”

And another.

“Three!”

She bolted to her car and fidgeted with the door handle until she jerked it open.  Eva dared not look back.  She dove into her seat, imagining his eyes were firmly fixed on her, and would be until she left his property. 

The engine throttled and she let her window down. 

“Have it your way,” she shouted.  “Whatever you are hiding, I’ll find out!  Here!”  She flung a set of papers out the window that landed on the gravel.  “In case you change your mind.”