The Decrypter: Secret of the Lost Manuscript (Calla Cress Techno Thriller Series: Book 1) (57 page)

Calla was puzzled.  “But what was the purpose of the underground movement?  What was Merovec’s cause?  Is he still alive?” She sniggered with cynicism. “Around here somewhere?”

Vortigern spoke up.  “When we find the third carbonado, we will know.  Initially we all thought the cause was to create one unified government across the earth.  This way poverty, disease and the vast problems around the globe could be dealt with, or even eradicated using his superior understanding of the earth’s faculties, science, geology and much more.  Some still believe this.”

“But why are these black diamonds so important?”

Allegra grasped Calla’s hand.  “After the rebellion, Merovec penalized the rebel operatives by slowly withdrawing all their formidable strength, power, knowledge and resources.  He used many methods threatening with coercion and genetic reversal. Basically, stripping them back to normalcy. “

“Did he?” Calla probed.

“He placed the combined energy into three black diamonds, then transported the diamonds, which were too forceful for the earth’s atmosphere into the outer galaxy using the power of a volcanic eruption.”

“You mean the volcanic eruption of Vesuvius, in 79 AD that buried the Roman towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum.”

“Indeed,” nodded Vortigern.  “That’s why the carbonados are incredibly charged with energy, so much so that they caused two asteroids to collide in space.  Eventually they fell back to Earth.  The resulting meteorite activity was what NASA’s cosmo-chemists observed and have filed in their classified reports.”

Calla shot up.  “The NASA reports that ISTF used!”

“Yes.  Merovec assigned each of the three carbonados a guardian.  They were to secure them in secret locations until the chosen operative would retrieve them and thereby revive their powers.  The only clue as to the whereabouts of the stones is the Deveron Manuscript.”

Allegra focused her attention on Calla’s reaction.  “Even before you were born, Calla, you were the designated frontrunner to reunite the carbonados and the operatives. Us.”

Vortigern leaned forward.  “The carbonados give us a second chance.”

Calla’s face registered apprehension.  “Whoa!  Hold on a second.”  She marched up and down the white reflective floor.  The pain in her ankle subsided.  “What are you saying?  This is ridiculous!  You can’t believe this? If
I am
the supposed chosen one, then why does Mason believe he can use the stones for his own purposes?”  Calla scratched her temple.  “Come on Allegra, you’re an educated, rational tactician.  Doesn’t this sound bogus to you?  Besides, why me?”

“I wish it were, Calla.  Your family, the Cressidus family was chosen to bear this mantle,” Vortigern said.

“I know this is hard to believe, but you see, you are different.  Even amongst the operatives, you are unique.  Just because the carbonados were meant for you, does not mean that Mason can’t manipulate their energies,” Allegra said.

Calla brought her hands together.  “Listen, I believe in science, research, history and facts!  Even if I find your story credible, you have not answered a crucial point here.  Where do operatives come from? 

Vortigern grinned.  “With the advancement of some of Merovec’s engineering capabilities, we were not born like most humans.  Merovec was a master engineer and scientist.  He could use any ingredient on Earth and outer space to create anything he desired.  We’re above the average person in strength, capability, and wisdom, but we can’t regain that status, not without the carbonados. Think of it as humans with the minds and capabilities of gods—”

“Angels…hmm…and let me see the NSA and Government Communications Headquarters’ technology budgets combined,” Calla said.

“Very funny. Mason, like us, desires these stones, because the energy in them can be resurrected and charged into nuclear, technological, intelligence or any other power you can think of.  If he gets them before we do, he will finish the rebellion he started.”

Calla slanted her head, not entirely sure, if he’d answered her question.

* * *

2:30 P.M.

“One more thing, Calla, over the years, Mason and his mutineers persecuted your family for the Deveron Manuscript.”  Allegra raised her chin.  “The Cress family has protected the manuscript from generation to generation, until it eventually landed in the hands of your parents.  You were given the name Cress intentionally.  Your adoptive parents are the ones who took on
your
name.”

“What happened to my real parents?”

“From the little I know of them, they rejected the responsibility of raising you as the lead operative when Vortigern told them of the responsibilities.  They knew what the manuscript could cost you all as a family.  I think they gave you up to protect you,” Allegra said.

“How do you know this?”

 “Because, they worked on and off for British Intelligence Services.  They were incredibly gifted people and were paired on several missions.”

“So the manuscript was really theirs?”

“Technically, yes.  They decided to destroy the Deveron to rid themselves of its demands.  From my own investigation, I know that they took the manuscript to Russia when they sat in on talks between Germany and Russia over the return of Priam’s Treasure.”

“Is that how the Deveron ended up in Priam’s gold?”

“Yes.  And that’s why I had to get it out of the Pergamon before ISTF did.”

Allegra laid a finger on her temple.  “They were trying to protect you.  Mason would have stopped at nothing to harm you, even as a baby.  All he wanted was the Deveron.”

Calla tried deliberately to empty her mind of a thought, but she had to know.  “Did Mason kill my parents?”

Vortigern inhaled deeply.  “We don’t know. What we know is your father rejected everything we have just told you about the Deveron.  He set out to prove us wrong and in the process found one carbonado.  But, the keeper didn’t give it to him.”

“Why?”

“He’d rejected the operatives and that made you the next Cress in line.”

“What did my parents do with the Deveron?”

“In a nutshell, they wanted to prove it wrong. Your father documented much of what he found in that black journal you found in the British Library. When NASA and the government discovered more than he wanted, he wrote a half report for MI6, deliberately flawed to protect you, that eventually went to ISTF. And to ward off the government further, your parents must have hidden the manuscript in the Pushkin Museum in Saint Petersburg - hoping it would never be found.”

Calla slumped further into her seat.  “In Priam’s Treasure, right? Because of the controversy over the treasure’s ownership between Germany and Russia. And the fact that the debate would linger for decades seeing that many treasures that left Germany during the war never made it back.”

“Again, your curator mind serves this mission well and makes my job easier.” Vortigern beamed with renewed optimism. “When we found out that you had been adopted, Allegra was assigned to find you.  Your meeting was not accidental.”

Allegra interjected.  “Mason is on an extremely focused mission.  We have observed him for years.  He only needs a few prominent people with enough drive.  So far, he’s covertly socializing with the Republican candidate Margot Arlington, the business billionaire Samuel Riche and the oil mogul Rupert Kumar.  If these three people are controlled by Mason, who knows what else he can accomplish through their vastly growing influence.”

Vortigern interrupted.  “That’s true, but I wonder if there’s another hidden motive.  I wouldn’t be surprised if something else is driving him.  You need to find out what that is, Calla.”

* * *

DAY 15

3:02 P.M.

Thessaloniki International Airport, Greece

 The scorching sun beat down on the runway as the private jet taxied into Thessaloniki airport, the second busiest airport in Greece.  Calla and Allegra made their way into the crowded terminal.

“There’s more security at this airport than usual,” Calla said.  “I don’t see how we can make it past undetected.”

The lines through immigration moved briskly.  Calla lowered the black, baseball cap she wore, with her hair let loose in an effort to disguise her identity.

She spotted a traveler browsing through the International Herald Tribune.  Newspapers still speculated about the missing Deveron
and Priam’s Treasure on the front cover. 

She peered over at Allegra.

“We’ll make it through.  I organized the credentials myself,” Allegra said.

Allegra was more seasoned at diplomat escapades and for this, Calla was grateful.

“Next!”

The tension left her face when she stepped to the counter. The immigration officer took her passport. Calla cast her head down.

The man lifted his head, raising an eyebrow. “British diplomatic service, I see. Are you staying in Greece long?” he asked.

“Just a day.”

He tilted his head and studied her face.  He stamped the passport and closed her lane.  “Please, follow me.”

Calla glimpsed back at Allegra who’d ambled through to a different line. 

Calla followed him.

Allegra watched from behind the cleared immigration point, as the man directed Calla to a waiting room, immediately to one side of the immigration hall.

“What’s the problem?” Calla said as she stood with a hand on the door knob behind her back.

“I can’t let you through.”

“Anapoulos.”

Calla zipped her head round as Allegra scrambled through the door, jolting her slightly forward.

“Do you know him?”

“Sure,” said Allegra. “Our best operative in Greece.”

Anapoulos spoke in hushed tones.  “Listen, Vortigern alerted us that you’d be coming.  I’ve been waiting for hours to spot you before you went through to another line.  Two others have also been on stand-by waiting for you.”

“Who are you?”

Anapoulos moved hastily across the room.  “A friend.  Now, we don’t have time.  Come with me.”

They scuttled through the exit door pacing behind Anapoulos’ lead.  “If you are back within two hours, I can guarantee your safe passage back to your plane.”

They stepped out into daylight, while Anapoulos watched by the roller doors.   “I’ll be here in exactly two hours when you should re-board the jet.”

Calla shook his hand.  “You guys are something else.”

Allegra waited a few yards ahead.  Calla ran up to her.  “What was that all about?”

“Mason is not the only one with an infiltration plan.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

45 Minutes Later…

Pella, Macedonia

Calla mused as she sat in the taxi watching the Greek landscape.  She turned over to Allegra.  “I felt compelled to come back here.  I think I met Mila here.”

“What did she look like?”

“When I came with Nash and Jack, looking for the second stone, I believe the Gypsy woman I met was Mila.  She recognized my birthmark.”

“I have hunted for Mila for several years.  I hope your instincts are correct.  If anything, she knows more about your parents than we do.”

Calla watched the revolving entrance of the magnificent hotel, where they’d stayed.  “Mila knew who I was.  I should’ve known it then.  We need to find her.  If only three people knew about the birthmark, she was one of them.”

“Then I may be able to help.  I came to Pella years ago when stationed as a diplomat in Athens.  You won’t find her here.  We may be able to find her in the traveler camp not far from here.”

The taxi steered up a curvy hill.  Below them, countless rows of vineyards stretched as far as the Mediterranean Sea.  The road ended near a row of dusty homes and the taxi halted by a sizeable wanderer site.

“Someone here must know about her, if she really is a Gypsy. Operatives take many identities,” Allegra said.

“So I’m beginning to learn. She was dressed like one when I saw her.”

Allegra and Calla jumped out of the minivan and scanned the camp that accommodated dozens of families, probably descended from nomadic, north Indians, who’d traveled to Europe through the Byzantine Empire in the eleventh century.  Small lodges lined one side of the camp, while some made their homes within converted, freight containers alongside cultivated gardens that cultivated tomatoes, peppers and assorted Mediterranean fruits.

“Be careful.  Let’s not scare or disrespect them.”

They minced towards two women transporting firewood towards the center of the slums.  Allegra approached one and spoke with ease in Romano.  She greeted the two women and strode towards another elderly woman who sat mending a tattered coat.  They exchanged a few words, before Allegra turned to Calla.  “They haven’t seen Mila since January.  Her life was in danger and she needed to move on. At least, that’s what she told them.”

Calla had tensely expected to be disappointed, but not when they were so close.