Authors: Charles Brokaw
“I will gladly accept this story in exchange for that.”
“I don’t even know what
this story
is.”
“Then we will find out together.”
23
Herat
Herat Province
Afghanistan
February 14, 2013
When he reached Herat, Lourds parked the truck in an alley, left the keys in the ignition, and got out.
Anna hesitated. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving the truck. It’s not safe to keep driving it. Fursin knows what it looks like, and it’s shot up so badly that it’s only a matter of time before the police get curious.”
“But it will get stolen.”
“I hope so.” Lourds glanced down at the end of the alley and noticed a small group of pre-teen boys. “And things are certainly looking up.”
“But shouldn’t you return it to the rental agency instead?”
Lourds shook his head. “Only if I want to leave a trail.” Over the past few years of dealing with assassins and mercenaries, he had gotten smarter about such things. Escape and lying low weren’t quite as easy in real life as they were in the potboilers he enjoyed, but there was a certain amount of truth in those novels. “If I return the truck, that’ll give our pursuers a place to start.”
“You sound paranoid.”
“After everything that’s happened, you bet I’m paranoid. Yakov back there seemed pretty determined. And he shot Boris right in front of me.” Lourds still felt numb over that.
There’ll be time to grieve later. Right now you need to concentrate on survival.
Anna hesitated a moment more, then climbed out of the truck and joined him. Together they walked to the street.
“What do we do now?”
“We find a public place and try to figure out what our next step is.” At the curb, he flagged down a taxi. The driver parked at the curb and waved them inside.
Lourds opened the back door of the taxi and allowed Anna to get in first. She slid over immediately and made room for him. Lourds got in and dropped his backpack at his feet.
The driver turned around to face them with a generous smile. “Where to?” His English was serviceable.
Before Lourds could reply, the white pickup roared out of the alley and swerved recklessly out onto the street. The three pre-teen boys inside seemed to be having the time of their lives.
The taxi driver shook his head in disgust. “Foolish children.”
***
“Are you certain this is the best place we could find?”
Lourds led the way through the booths and tables of the small restaurant’s outer dining area. “I like the view. We’ll be able to see anyone coming.” He claimed a table and sat, putting the backpack on the bench beside him.
“The view?” Anna sat beside him and wrapped her arms around herself. “It is cold out here.”
“And that’s just one of the reasons the people who could be looking for us won’t think to look in this place.”
The restaurant booths sat outside a small building used for preparing food. A curved canopy overhead was supported on metal struts. A low brick wall enclosed the dining area, and engraved concrete squares marked the walkway across the floor. There were no walls and no windows. To the south, tall government buildings stood, but they were dwarfed by the mountains that rose against the horizon. Only a short distance from the government building, a blue-domed temple squatted.
Despite the fact that it was February and winter, the temperature was in the low fifties.
Lourds took off his coat and placed it on the bench on the other side of his backpack.
“You are insane. You will freeze out here.”
“No. I’m quite comfortable, thank you. If you want to see cold winters, you should stop by Cambridge, Massachusetts, in January. We have cold winters there.”
“Not as cold as those in Moscow.”
“Then you shouldn’t be cold here either.”
Anna frowned, then shivered. “I do not mean to be disagreeable.”
“You’re not. You’re in shock.”
“And you are not?”
“Of course I am.”
“You do not appear to be.”
“I’m working. It’s my way of coping.”
He took his notebook computer from his backpack, then the scrolls in their protective case, and his digital camera. The camera came out in pieces. Evidently the bullet that had struck the backpack had torn through his camera and his trail bars. Granola and nuts lay strewn through the backpack as well. The ring box was intact, and he held it for a moment before placing it on the table.
Seeing the broken camera and the full extent of the damage to his backpack and its contents, it suddenly struck Lourds just how close he’d come to death. Again.
Anna seemed to understand what he was feeling. “You are alive, Professor. Do not forget how fortunate you are.”
“But Boris wasn’t very fortunate, was he? That tomb, Boris lived for finding something like that. And in less than a day, it was lost. And so was he.”
“I am sorry for your loss. I wish there was something I could do.”
“There isn’t. I can’t do anything either.” Lourds thought of Lev Strauss. Lev had been a friend much longer. His death had hurt more than Boris’s, and the pain was still there too.
“So what do we do?”
Lourds looked at the protective scroll case, then at Anna. “It’d probably be better if you got out of this now. Just walk away and return to whatever it was you were doing.”
Anna spoke precisely. “What I was doing was interviewing Professor Boris Glukov on the discovery he had made. I had hoped to follow that up with an interview with Professor Thomas Lourds.”
“We’re past that now.”
“I’m not.” Anna’s gaze dipped to the protective case, then back at Lourds. “Something in there got your friend killed. We need to find out what that is.”
“
I
need to. You need to be safe.”
Anna frowned at him. “Yakov Fursin saw me with you. He is still alive. Do you not think that perhaps I am in danger now, too?”
She had a point.
“All right. As long as we can stay ahead of this thing. If this gets worse, you can go home to your father.”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “That I will not do. I left his house to become my own person.”
“This isn’t about being a person, Anna. It’s about being
alive.
You said your father was a military man. If this thing turns any worse, he should be able to protect you.” Lourds sighed. “If Boris had known investigating that tomb would get him killed, he wouldn’t have done it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She turned her hand toward the scrolls. “Yet here you sit with those scrolls, determined not to abandon them or whatever secrets they protect.”
Lourds didn’t have an answer for her. For him, it wasn’t a choice. This was something he had to do. For Boris, and for himself.
The waiter came up and politely inquired if they wanted anything. They had been speaking in Russian, and Lourds hadn’t even noticed until the man tried speaking in Russian.
In Dari, Lourds ordered hot tea and
gosh feel
, a type of fried pastry covered in powdered sugar and ground pistachios, even though he was certain neither of them felt like eating.
There was enough sugar and protein in the dish to break through some of the lethargy left by the post-adrenaline rush. When the waiter walked away, Anna turned her attention to Lourds. “What did you order?”
“Elephant ears.”
“Not truly.”
“That’s the literal translation from Dari. They’re a pastry. I think you’ll enjoy them. But if you want something else...”
She shook her head. “I am afraid I cannot eat.”
“There will be hot tea.”
“Tea would be nice.”
“Good.” Lourds picked up the scroll with the snakes carved on the ends of the wooden roller. He tried reading it again but couldn’t make out any more than he previously had. After a few more fruitless minutes, he turned his attention to the other scrolls. Somewhere in the histories, there had to be a clue.
***
Linko was in a car dealer’s office renting a vehicle when Mikhail Nevsky called his satphone. “Colonel, I see you have some bad news.”
“Things did not go as planned. There were many problems. Not the least of which was the Taliban attack and the arrival of the United States Army.”
“I saw that on the news. Have you taken custody of Boris Glukov?”
“No. Glukov is dead.”
“How did this happen?”
“I killed him.” Silence stretched on the phone line, and Linko knew his life hung in the balance. He hurried on. “Glukov found some scrolls in the tomb that had details about Alexander the Great.”
“What kind of details?” The Russian president sounded interested now, not angry.
“I do not know. Glukov could not read them, that is why he called for Lourds.”
“Were the scrolls lost in the avalanche?”
“No. They are with Lourds.” Linko watched through the door window as the car dealer pulled a late model sedan up out front. “Glukov and Lourds became separated during the attack. I could not get them both. After ascertaining Lourds had possession of the scrolls, the only thing that was removed from the tomb, I killed Glukov to reduce the elements I had in play. That left me only Lourds with the scrolls.”
“Under the circumstances, that is understandable, but still most regrettable.”
“I am in pursuit of Lourds now, but I do not know where he has gone. According to his file, he has a woman friend in Kandahar.” Linko pulled up the woman’s name from memory. “Layla Teneen. She is a public figure. I looked up information on her. It was also in Lourds’s file. She is part of the International Monetary Fund. There is a fundraising drive in Kandahar tonight. I thought Lourds might show up there.”
“That is good thinking, Colonel.”
“I will need an invitation to get in.”
“I will see that you have one. I will also arrange for you to have support from the FSB. Is there anything else you need?”
“Not at this moment. I will get this man for you.”
“I know you will, Colonel.”
The call ended with one of the most menacing clicks Linko had ever heard.
24
Herat
Herat Province
Afghanistan
February 14, 2013
Lourds skim-read for several hours, blazing through the scrolls as fast as he could, searching for clues as to why Boris had been killed and why the killer had been there in the first place. To her credit, Anna didn’t interrupt him. She spent the time on Lourds’s computer, utilizing the satellite Internet access he had, as well as the extended battery life, to file stories regarding the attack and Boris Glukov’s death.
The waiter came and went, replenishing tea. Finally, in the evening when it was getting colder, another waiter showed up, and Lourds found himself finally hungry enough to eat. After consulting with Anna, he ordered dinner.
“Have you discovered anything?” She pointed at the scrolls.
“Only that Alexander of Macedonia had a very interesting life.” Lourds spooned up a bite of
qorma alou-bokhara wa dalnakhod
and relished the taste of chicken with sour plums, lentils, cardamom, and onion. It was warm and spicy, and with
naan
flatbread, extremely filling. He swallowed. “These documents, small peeks into the life of Alexander the Great, are priceless in themselves. Treasures, truly.”
“But they are not what got Boris killed.”
Lourds sighed. “No one knows any more about what’s in those scrolls than we do right now.”
“Than
you
do, you mean.”
Lourds inclined his head. “Than I do. And I’m telling you now that there’s nothing I’ve read in there that’s worth killing someone over.”
“Yakov was there looking for something. He did not go into that cave blind or simply hoping to find something. Someone sent him there.”
Lourds nodded. “I agree. But I have no clue what it could be.”
For a moment, Anna was silent. Then she took out her phone. “I took a picture of Yakov.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Taking pictures is one of the things I do in my job.”
“Let me see.”
She passed him the phone. Lourds examined the image and saw the
Russian Today
man squatting down with the rifle. She’d caught him in three-quarter profile.
“Have you seen him before?”
She shook her head. “Not until today. I sent his picture to some people who might be able to help us identify him.”
“What people?” Lourds was leery of telling many people about anything they were doing. He wanted to keep a low profile.
“Some newspaper contacts I have who are in the business of knowing who is who.”
“I assume you’ve heard nothing?”
“Not yet. What about the mystery scroll? I’ve seen you pick it up and put it back several times.”
Lourds massaged his temples. “That one makes my head ache. It’s a definite code, but I don’t know what it is.”
Anna frowned. “Were codes used back then?”
“Codes aren’t anything new. They’ve been around as long as language. People have always sought ways to communicate secretly with others.”
“I see. So what would Alexander the Great have been hiding?”
“Alexander the Great wasn’t doing the hiding. He was the thing being hidden. Or, rather, his body was being hidden. His tomb disappeared centuries ago. No one knows what became of him. On the surface of what I’ve learned in these scrolls, there may be an answer to where he is.”
“You think someone wants him found?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what anyone could think they were going to get.”
“What was special about Alexander the Great?”
“The man nearly conquered the known world while he was alive, and died young.”
“How did he do this? Did he have a large army?”
“He did, but that wasn’t all of it. Alexander the Great had a keen understanding of people and politics. His mentor, chosen for him by his father, was Aristotle.” Lourds hesitated. “You do know who that is?”
She frowned at him over the rim of her teacup. “I was trained in journalism at the Columbia School of Journalism. Aristotle wrote treatises on the art of writing and language. Trust me. I had to read them all. Several times.”
Smiling, Lourds nodded in mock surrender. “Of course. I stand corrected. I had forgotten about
Poetics,
the work he did on explaining dramatic theory and the literary form.”
“I will not ever be able to. The professor I had was very much in love with Aristotle and his writings.”
“You had a good professor.”
“Perhaps. But continue your tale. Did Aristotle somehow impart the secret of conquering the world to him?”
“No.” Lourds sighed. “But you’d think someone must have from where Alexander got and how fast he got there. He had a habit of holding up on the sword until he learned he couldn’t win over the hearts of a people.”
“Speaking of winning hearts.” Anna pointed at the ring box still sitting on the table. “Who is that for?”
Lourds hesitated for a moment. “Someone very special to me.”
“May I?”
Lourds handed her the ring box. “Be my guest.” He wondered what her reaction would be, and he thought himself foolish for being so concerned. But if Anna liked the ring, surely Layla would.
Anna opened the box and gazed at the ring. She smiled in delight. “Pretty.”
“I thought so, but the question is, will she think so?”
“If she decides she does not, I will be more than happy to take it off your hands.”
“Thanks, but I’m rather hoping she grows fond of it.”
Anna handed the ring box back to him. “So where is this woman? Why has she not called?”
“She’s very busy.”
“Too busy to wonder what has happened to you after today?”
“She probably doesn’t even know.”
“How could she not? The story is all over the news and all over the Internet.” Anna waved to the computer. “I’ve been following it in several places. There are CNN reports. FOX News. Several newspapers and online magazines. YouTube videos from survivors who filmed the attack and did video blog interviews later.”
Curious, Lourds took his cell phone out of his shirt pocket. His phone had been turned off. He powered it up. There were forty-seven missed calls from Layla and several dozen from other people, including both Tina Metcalf and Dean Wither.
“My phone was off. You’ll have to excuse me while I fix this.” Lourds got up from the table and walked over to the low wall surrounding the eating area. He punched redial on Layla’s calls.
She answered at once. “Thomas?”
“Yes. Sorry. My phone was off, and I’ve been busy all day.”
“My god, I’ve been worried sick. I got your earlier e-mail saying that you were joining Boris today. Why didn’t you call?”
“I knew you were busy.”
“Not too busy that I wouldn’t have taken time out to speak with you and find out if you were alive and all right. You are all right, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“I’m sorry about Boris. It was on the news. I feel terrible. I heard about him, and I kept hoping that nothing had happened to you.”
“Nothing did.”
“Where are you now?”
Lourds gazed out into the darkness and saw the moon’s glow reflecting from the blue temple dome in the distance. “Herat.”
“Why are you still there?”
“Trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do next.”
Some of the worry left her voice. “Come here, Thomas. Come to me and let me see for myself that you are all right.”
“You’re busy.”
“Not too busy for this. If I had known where to go, I would have left when I heard the news. How soon can you be here?”
“It’s a six-hour drive. I’ll have to see if I can find a rental agency that will let me have a car. My last one was stolen.”
“Stolen?”
“Long story.” Lourds watched Anna. She was talking on her cell phone as well. He checked his watch. It was after eight o’clock. “Look, it’s late. You’re tired and I’m tired. Let’s both get a good night’s sleep and see if we can meet sometime tomorrow. I know you’ve got a full day packed with meetings.”
Someone at the other end of the phone asked for Layla’s attention. The person sounded frantic.
Layla evidently covered the phone with her hand because her voice grew muffled. “It will be all right. I will be there in a moment. Just keep making small talk.” Then she was back on the line. “Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“I will clear my afternoon. Get an early start in the morning, and I will see you then. I’m sorry, but I have to go. This fundraiser is very important.”
“I understand.”
“And if anything changes, let me know. Immediately.”
“I will.”
“Charge your phone. Keep it on. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Then she was gone.
Lourds pocketed his phone and returned to the table. He started packing his gear. “Let’s go see if we can find a place for the night. Hopefully there’s a hotel or bed and breakfast close by.” He left money on the table, and they flagged down a taxi in the street.
***
When the satphone vibrated on his chest, Linko came awake at once and scooped it up. “Yes.”
“We have information.” The FSB SIGINT operative on the other end of the connection spoke in bored tones. The SIGINT unit handled communications intelligence, gathering it from tapped phones and other communication devices.
“Tell me.” Linko sat up on the small bed in the cramped bed and breakfast he’d rented.
He’d searched in vain all afternoon for Lourds. He didn’t have many assets in Herat but did have a few, and he mobilized them all. Unfortunately, several Americans were in the city, and most of them were now interested in what was going on at the dig.
It was like Lourds and Anna Cherkshan had vanished.
“Lourds has contacted the Teneen woman.” Covert mercenaries hired by the FSB had tapped the woman’s phone in Kandahar.
“When did he call her?”
“He only now got off the phone with her.”
“This is the first time he’s called her?” Linko had trouble believing that.
“Yes. According to the communication he had with the woman, his phone has been turned off. He only now turned it on.”
“Where is he?”
“In Herat.”
“Still?” Linko struggled to imagine that. He had expected Lourds to run as far and as fast as he could. And to leave a trail. Linko had gotten information about the truck the American had rented and had been surprised when the vehicle turned up on a police impound lot after boys were caught joyriding in it. Any information Lourds had left in the vehicle would be hard to reach. Lourds had also switched off his GPS signal. The American professor was turning out to be wilier than Linko had imagined.
“Yes, but he is planning on meeting the woman in Kandahar.”
“Tonight? At the benefit?” Linko turned on the bed and reached for his pants. He had stripped them off when he’d lain down on the bed. When an agent had nothing to do in the field, he was expected to rest so he would be ready to perform at a moment’s notice.
“No. In the morning.”
“Where?”
“A rendezvous point was not mentioned.”
“Keep me informed.” Linko mentally debated on whether to leave for Kandahar tonight or first thing in the morning. He decided to travel in the morning. Tonight he would sleep. Tomorrow might involve more waiting all day for the correct moment to strike. It would be best if he were rested.
If the objective had simply been to kill Lourds, that could have been more easily arranged. The woman could have simply been collateral damage.
But Linko needed the scrolls for the mission to be successful.
The good thing was that, since President Nevsky himself wanted them, Linko would get all the manpower on the task that he needed. He could run assets instead of breaking down doors himself. As long as he brought in the scrolls in the end.
“I will call you the minute I know anything.”
Linko closed his phone and lay back down on the bed. He checked to make certain his pistol was tucked under his pillow, then put the phone on his chest again.
He had wanted to put a SIGINT team on Anna Cherkshan as well, but he’d been afraid that too many people in FSB were loyal to her father, the general. That kind of operation would have been extremely risky because it would have drawn attention from too many people. Someone might have ratted Linko out, and then there would have been a lot of explaining to do to the general. From what he knew of General Cherkshan, the man was utterly vicious when dealing with his enemies.
Ultimately, Nevsky would have called the shots, but Linko knew that the general was immersed in the Ukraine takeover. If General Cherkshan were to get sidetracked now, the fallout would be catastrophic to Linko’s career if Nevsky chose to blame him. An agent in the field could be much more easily replaced than a general with Cherkshan’s connections. Linko wasn’t certain if the president knew that the general’s daughter was directly involved with Lourds, and at this point he was loathe to let anyone know.
It was an interesting problem, but Linko didn’t let it interfere with his sleep. He closed his eyes and was out.