Authors: Charles Brokaw
The Oracle Code (30 page)
55
Moskva River
Moscow
Russian Federation
February 25, 2013
General Anton Cherkshan’s boat sat at anchor on the Moskva River. He stood in the stern with a pair of high-powered binoculars. He had been using them for the past hour since the sun had risen. The wind blowing across the water was cold, and chunks of ice still floated with the current. Every now and again, they thudded against the boat’s hull.
From his position, he could see the street that led down from the Kremlin Grand Palace. He thought of his father, of when, as a boy, he had accompanied his father to work on days when he had operated the tugboats. And he thought of Anna as she had been as a child. He also regretted the fact that he had never gotten to know her as the adult she had become. It was a sadness that was almost unbearable. But he was Russian, so he would learn to bear it.
However, he would not allow the man who had killed her to live. He had made the promise to Katrina.
Twenty-three minutes later, he saw President Nevsky leave the building and get into the back of the black ZIL that was his personal car. The vehicle left the compound and rolled down the street.
Cherkshan had been waiting for this moment since Dmitry had called last night. He had been busy himself. He reached into his pocket and brought out a disposable phone. He had already entered Nevsky’s private phone number, the one he gave to his various mistresses. Cherkshan knew the man would answer.
“Hello?”
“President Nevsky?” Cherkshan took a remote control detonator from his pocket and placed his thumb on the button.
“Yes? General Cherkshan? How did you get this number?”
“I was the general of your FSB. I made it my business to know things.”
“
Were
? Are you going somewhere?”
“You had my daughter killed.”
Nevsky was silent for a moment. “Your daughter died.”
“By your hand. And now, you will die at mine, as my wife requested. She is of gypsy blood, you know, and she has cursed you. You will burn in Hell.” Cherkshan pressed the button.
On the street, the president’s ZIL turned into a fireball. The man’s death was too fast, but it was all Cherkshan could give him and keep his wife safe. For his own life, he didn’t care. But he would protect Katrina.
Cherkshan threw the detonator and phone into the river. Now there were other phone calls to make. Russia had to pull back from the mistakes she had made while blinded by a madman.
Epilogue
Aleria Restaurant
Athens
Hellenic Republic (Greece)
February 28, 2013
“You look beautiful tonight.” Lourds looked across the table at Layla.
Layla smiled, but she seemed somewhat distracted. She had only gotten into Athens a couple hours ago and met Lourds at his hotel.
Lourds was staying there for a time until Captain Fitrat got out of the hospital. From what the doctors were saying, he would be ready to travel in a few more days. During the days, he visited Fitrat and worked on papers with Professor Marias regarding the scrolls they had gotten from the well area. Marias insisted on calling it the Underworld.
Tina Metcalf had let him know the classes were going swimmingly, and Dean Wither was already negotiating her contract for the coming semester. She’d also wanted to know if Lourds had popped the question yet.
Tonight, Layla was dressed in Western clothing, a simple black dress, a string of pearls, and her hair loose and flowing. She barely had on any makeup, and Lourds felt that she didn’t need it at all.
They sat at a table for two against the wall in the Aleria Restaurant, one of the trendiest places in the Metaxourgeio neighborhood in Athens. The soft lighting glowed against the polished, hardwood floors. The table linen was cream and matched the walls and ceiling, giving the whole restaurant a subdued but elegant atmosphere.
“I’ve heard about this restaurant.” Layla picked at her filet of pheasant served with pear tartare with smoked bacon and Vinsanto sauce.
“You haven’t eaten here?” Lourds was surprised. He knew Layla had traveled extensively. “You’ve been to Athens several times.”
Layla nodded. “I have, but I have not eaten here. I’m surprised you could get us in on such short notice.”
“Actually, I started trying to arrange this dinner two days ago.” Lourds was conscious of the engagement ring in his pants pocket, tight against his thigh. He was more nervous than he’d thought he would be. “I had a bit of luck, and I know the maître d’.”
“If you started planning this two days ago, you must not have had much to do regarding that business in the tunnels.”
Lourds sighed and shook his head. “Trust me. There was a lot to do. The biggest issue was the police involvement. In light of the fact that Dmitry Dolgov and his people disappeared like they’d never been there in the first place, Professor Marias and I were hard-pressed to explain everything to the satisfaction of the homicide inspector. She was very thorough, very demanding. If I ever get murdered, I’d want her to bring my killer to justice.”
Layla looked serious. “Please, do not even joke about such things.”
Chastened, Lourds smiled. “Of course. I’m sorry, Layla. That was thoughtless.”
She waved it off. “It is nothing. So, was she satisfied with you in the end?”
Lourds held out his hands. “No cuffs. I’m a free man.”
“Yes, you are. I am glad.”
“Of course, you have heard about Nevsky’s assassination and the Russian military withdrawal from the Ukraine?”
“Yes.” That had been in all the news. Several of the generals in Moscow were no longer working. General Cherkshan was still in business though. And Dmitry Dolgov had dropped Lourds a line to let him know he would see great changes in the Russian Federation’s diplomacy soon. Things would go back to as they were—better, in fact, Dmitry claimed.
Lourds selected another ravioli stuffed with wild mushrooms, truffle oil, and mashed green fava beans, popped it into his mouth, and savored the flavors.
“There is no hope of opening the tunnel at Elis again?”
Lourds shook his head. “An engineering enterprise like that would cost millions of dollars. I can’t think of anyone who would be interested in spending that kind of money on the hope of reaching Hades.”
“But you have the scrolls. Surely someone would be interested in excavating the site.”
“We haven’t found anyone yet. Most of them agree that the scrolls we found are intriguing, but they’re also convinced that everything that might have been down there was destroyed by the tremor. No one’s calling what happened an earthquake yet.” Lourds frowned. “I’m told the event never registered on any seismographs in the area.”
“Strange.”
“It is.”
She smiled at him. “Even though you didn’t find Hades, you did find scrolls that will be the envy of several scholars.”
“They’ll be credited to Boris. This was his find.”
“Speaking of finds, the original scrolls in the tomb Boris located should be returned to the museums in Afghanistan.”
Lourds nodded. “They will be.”
The waiter came and cleared their plates, then poured them another glass of wine.
“What about your vision of Charon down in the caves?”
“I believe the chamber off the Oracle room was set up the same way as the Oracle of Delphi. I think that they deliberately tapped into the gases that created the visions there.”
“How did they find those gases?”
“I don’t know. I’m hoping some of that is revealed in the scrolls Adonis and I found.” Lourds sipped his wine. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
“I know.” Layla looked sad. “So do I. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut my visit here short. I have to go back in the morning.”
That disappointed Lourds greatly. He had been hoping she could stay at least a couple days. “At least we have tonight.” Nervously, he reached into his pocket and took the ring box out in his fist. Still holding his hand closed, he held it out to her. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Tears glistened in Layla’s eyes. Before he could say anything further, she curled her hand over his and spoke in a whisper. “Don’t.”
Shocked, Lourds froze.
She smiled at him sadly. “I love you, Thomas. God knows that I do. And I wish that things were different. But they are not. I am limited. I am only one person. I cannot do my job and be anything like what you want and deserve.”
Confused, Lourds shook his head. “Layla, I won’t ask you to change, and I wouldn’t want you to. You know that. I understand—better than most—just how much your work is a part of who you are. I would never take you away from that.”
She was silent and her lower lip trembled. “I know, Thomas, and I love that about you, but I just
can’t
. These past few weeks have proven that to me. I am needed at work, but I want to be with you. I especially wanted to be with you when you were walking into so much danger.”
“I made it through.”
“I know you did.” She smiled. “The problem is me. If I cannot give you everything I feel a wife should in her marriage—her time, her commitment, her love—then I will only be unhappy with myself. Trying to be with you and not be able to be the wife I want to be would destroy me. Do you understand?”
Lourds tightened his grip on the ring box and took it back. He pushed it once more into his pocket. “I do.”
She stood up, then leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “This has to be goodbye, my love. I wish there was another way.”
“Me too.” Lourds knew better than to try to ask her to change her mind. Once she’d made her decision, there was no changing it. And he knew she was pulled in too many directions. He’d seen it.
Without another word, she turned and walked away.
Lourds let her go. He drank his wine and slowly decompressed, trying to figure out what he should do with himself. Then he took out his phone and called Marias.
“Hello?”
“Have you ever had a woman break your heart?”
Marias hesitated. “I am sorry things did not go as you expected.”
“The question stands.”
“Yes, I have had my heart broken several times.”
“First time for me.” Lourds took a breath. “What do you do when it happens?”
“You chase after other women—”
“No.”
“—drink yourself stupid—”
“Not appealing in the slightest.”
“—or throw yourself into your work.”
“Now
that
is something I’m good at. Where are you?”
“At the museum.”
“Working?”
“Yes.”
“Could you use another pair of hands?”
“Of course. I’ll put on a pot of coffee. I was planning to call you in the morning anyway.”
“I’ll be there in just a few minutes.” Lourds put his phone away, picked up his hat and backpack, and headed for the door.
About the Author
New York Times
bestselling author Charles Brokaw is the author of
The Atlantis Code, The Lucifer Code,
and
The Temple Mount Code.
Charles Brokaw is a pseudonym for an author, academic, and college educator living in the Midwest. He’s had a rich and varied life, and is fascinated by history, human accomplishment, and archeology.
Other Books by Charles Brokaw
THE ATLANTIS CODE (Tor Books, 2009)
THE LUCIFER CODE (Tor Books, 2010)
THE TEMPLE MOUNT CODE (Tor Books, 2011)
Connect with Charles Brokaw online
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Charles-Brokaw/200987023339657?ref=hl