The Tenth Cycle: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 1) (22 page)

Again, Daniel asked, "How do you mean?"

Sarah was so excited by the ideas that Sinclair had given her that she began talking with her hands as she explained. "Okay, some of them say that evolution was the result of environmental pressure. Not talking about humans, now, environmental pressure would be, say, that some animals developed thicker fur as they responded to an ice age. But, realistically, wouldn't that kind of pressure kill them off before mutations would allow them to grow thicker fur? Or would they have just willed themselves to grow it thicker?" The sarcasm in her last remark made Daniel and Sinclair smile, but Sarah was on a roll and continued in the same vein.

"So, for some unknown reason millions of years ago some of the apes decided to leave the jungle and move to the plains where there was no food or protection for them. Then, when they got there they decided it would be great to walk on two legs rather than four and then they started shedding all their hair on their backs, even though being away from the protection and shade of the jungle they would actually need more hair on their backs to protect them from the sun.  Unless they planned all along to make clothes for themselves, as soon as they started using tools like awls and needles. Oh, and by the way, they also decided to change their diet dramatically and start eating meat and other animals that required them to invent weapons to hunt with, instead of eating the bountiful fruit, leaves insects and roots and vegetables they left behind in the jungle. It makes no sense whatsoever!" Out of breath, she paused and for the first time noticed the stunned look on Daniel's face, and the look of amusement on Sinclair's.

Going on, Sarah said, "But what I meant by their logic being circular is, they have to account for why the new and improved species became dominant, because as Sinclair observed, the gene pool would more likely have absorbed a beneficial mutation before it could become widespread. Unless the mutated population was isolated until cross-breeding was no longer possible." She sat back in triumph, expecting Daniel to make the logical leap that finished the observation. Instead, he and Sinclair looked at her, obviously expecting more.

"Don't you see? How could they be that isolated?"

"Maybe there's a mountain range that's impossible to cross," Sinclair said, playing the straight man although he had already seen where she was going with it.

"Then, how did the isolated population get there in the first place?" Sarah smiled, knowing that Sinclair had anticipated the argument.

"Well," Daniel said, "it looks like we need to update that mindmap with a few more arguments against evolution, among other things."

Sinclair thought of something as they were preparing to leave. “Would it be possible for me to work directly with this computer genius you’ve enlisted?”

“He’s quite paranoid, but I’ll try to persuade him,” Daniel answered.

“Given everything you’ve told me, I believe he’s probably wise to be paranoid. And very clever to have come up with this secret way of communicating. Let me know his answer that way, and I’ll stand by to do my part when he’s finished the database.”

“Thank you sir, again, for agreeing to help. We will keep your involvement under our hats until it's time to publish, and then you'll get full credit along with Sarah, and me."

"I appreciate it, son. But please, if we're going to be colleagues, call me Sinclair."

~~~

On Saturday afternoon, Daniel sent Raj a message through the email drop that they had information he needed. He knew that Raj was still agitated about the CIA minders, so he left it to Raj to figure out a way to meet that wouldn’t reveal him to the operatives. The scheme that came back made Daniel howl. He was to go to church the next day. Not a Southern Baptist church, in which he’d been raised, but a Catholic church. After the service, he was to enter a confessional and wait for Raj to speak to him. Even funnier to Daniel than him going to confession was Raj, a non-practicing Hindu, as the priest. But, he had to admit it was clever. At least he wouldn’t have to call him Sushma this time.

At the appointed time, Daniel and Sarah left for the mass and took their seats near the front of the chapel, assuming that their minders would not approach too closely lest they be seen. Sarah appeared to enjoy the service more than Daniel did. During the times of prayer, though, he sent sincere expressions of gratitude for Sarah and her safety, and pleas for continued safety.

After the service, Sarah engaged one of the priests in conversation, while Daniel made his way to the indicated confessional. He really wondered how Raj was going to pull this off, but he needn’t have worried. He’d barely settled himself in the cramped space, when a person he couldn’t see well made a movement suspiciously like the sign of the cross. Daniel began to wonder if he’d entered the wrong confessional. Then Raj’s lilting accent in a strong whisper came through. “Daniel?

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief, and, in a moment of irreverence relieved his tension by saying, “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

Even in a whisper, Raj’s displeasure was evident. “Do not blaspheme, Daniel. We have been granted this favor by people who would be offended by your levity. Have some respect.”

Surprised, Daniel expressed his apology. “You’re right, Raj. I apologize.”

“You have news for me, my friend?”

“Yes. We’ve made contact with Grandpa’s linguist friend. He’s in. He’d like to work with you directly if possible, and he also gave us some more information that I’d like you to run down if you can.”

“Only if it is absolutely necessary will I meet him in person, Daniel. This is already far more dangerous than we thought when you began. What other information did he give you?”

“The name of a criminal organization that may be behind the attack on Mark. I don’t know how seriously to take it, because Sinclair indicated there were probably a number of them. The Mafia might be one for all I know. But he named one called the Orion Society. I was wondering if you could find out something about them, like whether they’d have any interest in our research.” Daniel’s throat was beginning to hurt from the whispering, but he didn’t know how close his babysitter was, and this was something he wanted to keep quiet, along with Raj’s identity.

“I will make inquiries. Did you give this linguist access to our secure communication?”

“Yes,” Daniel answered.

“I will prepare a message to let him know I can meet him if necessary. Is there anything else?”

“No, Raj, except that you’re a damned devious guy.”

“Daniel, may I remind you that we are in a house of God?”

Septentrio was indulging himself in a now rare display of temper. In his youth, such displays often destroyed objects in his home or office, or sent his wife or son to a hospital emergency department for treatment of suspicious accidents. However, in his old age, his physician had told him that he must curb his temper or face a stroke. Calming medications usually helped, but this time he feared he was losing control of his most important assignment. First one of the key researchers had been killed, and now there were problems in monitoring communications between the remaining two.

All email and most text messaging had ceased between the primary researchers. Their cell phones were frequently turned off or left at home when they traveled, so that their whereabouts were unknown. And now mysterious silences were cropping up in conversations in the female’s home.

It hadn’t taken long to locate the person named Raj that had been mentioned in the Simms home just before he was killed, once Impes had turned over those transcripts. Further investigation revealed that he had long been interested in the Area 51 mystery, but was nowhere near the true answer when he became involved with Rossler and Clarke. It appeared his only role in their research was that of data mining, therefore he was of no importance. Nevertheless, with great difficulty because of his extreme paranoia, listening devices had been deployed in his residence as well, to no avail. Every time Septentrio’s considerable resources reported Rossler or Clarke at Sankaran’s residence, the same mysterious silences occurred there.

It was maddening and unacceptable. His response was to throw objects around the room and kick those that landed on the floor until he was exhausted and breathing hard. Only then did he have a brandy and school his voice to call his top operative in the US, code-named Sidus.

“We are extremely displeased by the way this project has gone, Sidus.

“No, sir, I’m on top of it. It’s just that there hasn’t been any progress. I can put some pressure on them to move it along, if you’d like.”

“If I’d like…” mocked Septentrio in a sneering tone. “Of course I’d like, you imbecile! Do I have to tell you everything! And while you’re at it, find out why they go silent at times. Sometimes the transcripts show a gap of twenty minutes or half an hour with not so much as a clearing of the throat. They have to have some sort of jamming device, and it’s the most effective we’ve ever learned of. I want it. Don’t make me wait too long for either of these items, Sidus.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it. No, sir, I won’t make you wait.”

Septentrio allowed himself one last display as he slammed the receiver of the antique gold telephone set into its cradle. It really felt good to let go once in a while. Since he was still in a savage mood, he sent for his son. Time to put some backbone in the boy. Too bad he hadn’t managed to do so in the fifty-six years since his son’s birth, but he wouldn’t live forever, and time was running short to mold him in the traditions of the Society.

~~~

Sidus regarded his cell phone dispassionately as he considered how to accomplish his assignments. His employer was exacting and demanding, but he was paid well in offshore accounts that he never touched. That was for his retirement, which would take place under a different name and appearance, in a small out-of-the way place where nubile young women were willing and nothing else ever happened. He had no illusions that he would be allowed to retire peacefully otherwise. He knew too much about the Orion Society.

He considered all his options for pressure, before placing a call to Barry.

“What can you do to put pressure on Clarke?” he asked without preamble.

Barry recognized the voice instantly, and said, “Let me think a moment. Well, I could move her tenure hearing up, so she maybe wouldn’t be prepared.”

“No, we don’t want them to suspect you are anything but supportive.” This with no irony at all, though he had reason to believe they already suspected.

“I’ll give it some thought and get back to you,” Barry said, beginning to get an idea that he wanted to execute himself, with Impes.

“Make it quick. I’m getting flak from above, and I don’t like it much.” Sidus considered it too easy to make flagrant threats, so he used sinister hints to do the job.

“I will.”

~~

Now Barry called Impes, who, when he heard Barry’s voice, flipped on a recording device to protect himself. It hadn’t escaped him that Septentrio didn’t believe in his story about a traitor. If he didn’t give Barry up, he’d take the blame for any further problems, and he’d need evidence.

“What can I do for you, Barry?”

“Sidus wants me to put pressure on Sarah Clarke,” Barry answered.

“So? What did you have in mind?”

Barry lowered his voice, as if that would hinder anyone overhearing what was traveling across the airwaves. “I still think they know more than they’ve told me. Sidus doesn’t want me to tip my hand, but I’ve thought of something you could do.”

Once again, Impes was faced with a decision. He’d been told directly by Septentrio not to do anything without Sidus ordering it. On the other hand, Sidus had more or less ordered this, even if it was indirectly. “What is it?”

“Rossler has a grandfather, an archaeologist who was prominent before he retired.” He didn’t want to specify what he had in mind, hoping for deniability, but he knew how Impes operated. He could rely on the man to take the hint and run with it.

“So, if some threat of harm were to come to the old man, you think they’d give up the rest of what they have?” Impes clarified.

“I’m sure of it.”

“What’s the geezer’s name?” Impes asked.

“Nicholas Rossler. Sorry, I don’t know where he lives,” Barry answered.

“We can find him. I’ll get on it.”

Bess Rossler was in the kitchen as usual early on the morning of September 18, preparing dough for biscuits to serve for breakfast. As she’d done every morning Nick was home for over fifty years, she started the coffee, then turned back to the counter to drop the biscuits onto the cookie sheet. Next, she started a few strips of bacon and got the pan ready to fry eggs before placing the biscuits in the oven. Satisfied that Nick’s breakfast would be ready in about ten minutes, she went down the hall to wake him.

As soon as she had left the kitchen, the man who had been watching through the window signaled his partner at the front of the house, and both quickly picked the old locks. Slipping in from both sides of the house within seconds, they took their places, one in the kitchen next to the door where he could grab the old woman as soon as she returned, and one concealed behind the doorjamb on the other side of the hall, ready to overpower the old man when he went to the aid of his wife. Their directions were to fulfill the mission with as little violence as possible, not because their employers abhorred violence, but because if they damaged the hostages, they would no longer be of use.

Their plan went off without a hitch. Bess barely had time to squeak in surprise before her captor’s hand effectively cut off further communication by the simple expedient of covering her mouth and pinching her nostrils shut at the same time. He whispered fiercely to her, “Don’t scream and I’ll let you breathe.”

With her faded blue eyes wide in fright, Bess had the presence of mind to nod and go limp, allowing her captive to release her nostrils, though he kept his hand over her mouth.

“Good girl,” he said approvingly. “Behave and everything will be fine.” He then walked her over to a kitchen chair and bound her there, with a gag in her mouth.

At the same time, the other intruder had grabbed Nicholas, who at over six feet was still brawny and strong for all his years. Struggling to control him, the intruder found himself slammed into the wall and pinned by Nicholas’ big body, his breath knocked out of him with a whoosh.

“Bess!” shouted Nicholas, alerting the other that his partner had failed to secure the old man. He rushed to help, and finding them entangled where he couldn’t get a purchase, delivered an expert chop to the old man’s neck karate-style. Nicholas dropped, unconscious.

~~~

When he awoke, Nicholas was puzzled at first, not remembering what had happened earlier that morning. He was bound to a kitchen chair, with Bess weeping silently beside him, also bound to a chair. The odor of burned bacon and biscuits flavored the air, along with the aroma of coffee. His neck hurt, and something was wrapped around his mouth, preventing him from asking Bess if she was okay, other than being tied to the chair. It was a bewildering state of affairs, like nothing that had ever happened to him in his 80 years.

When she saw he was conscious, Bess drew a ragged breath and sighed deeply, then blinked slowly at him. He thought she was trying to tell him something, and wondered if she would remember enough Morse code that they could communicate. Pausing to get the sequence in mind, he blinked out U OK? But she didn’t know the letters, though she did appear to understand it was Morse code he was trying to get across with short and long blinks. She nodded and then shook her head, so either she was unhurt but not okay, or she understood that it was Morse code but didn’t understand his message. Before he could think how to resolve it, a stranger came into the kitchen.

The man was of medium height but displayed an impressive build, even disguised as it was by parachute-style clothing. A black balaclava hid his features. Seeing the man did more to snap Nicholas into full understanding even than realizing he was tied to a chair. It was frustrating, being gagged. He’d like to ask the man what he wanted. Not that they had anything of intrinsic value. While he and Bess were comfortable in their retirement, they didn’t have expensive baubles lying around, nor a lot of cash. He only hoped that when the robbers discovered their mistake, it wouldn’t cause them to take it out on their persons. Best to remain calm and wait for more information for now. If only he could reach out and hold Bess’s hand.

Bess was also watching the man warily, and if he’d been able to read her thoughts, he might have been given pause. For a woman nearing eighty herself, and very petite, she was feisty for all that. If he gave her a chance to get at her iron skillet, she’d show him a thing or two. She lowered her eyes when he looked at her, lest he read her murderous thoughts in them.

The intruder spoke, interrupting the couple’s musings. “Tell us what you know about Daniel Rossler’s research.” Bess’s eyes went wide and then flew to Nicholas, who was shaking his head.

“Mmmmph,” he said, reminding the man that he was gagged and couldn’t answer the question. The second intruder came in then, and told the first that he hadn’t been able to get the computer booted up, because it had a password. “What’s the password?” the first asked Nicholas.

Irritated at the man’s stupidity, Nicholas frowned and shook his head, which both strangers took to be a refusal. The first backhanded him across the face, causing Bess to cry out, muffled though it was. With a trickle of blood running from his cut lip, Nicholas tried again. “Guh.”

The second intruder had watched the exchange with disbelief. “You are a fucking idiot,” he said to his partner. “How’s he supposed to answer with that gag in his mouth?” He moved to Nicholas to remove it, and then for good measure removed Bess’s. “Be good, now. One scream and it goes back on. Do you need some water?”

Bess was desperately in need of water, and then of the restroom, but she was so relieved that the second man was being somewhat reasonable that all she could do was nod. He went to the cupboards and found a glass, filled it with water and returned to hold it to her lips. “How about you?” he asked Nicholas.

“Thank you,” Nicholas replied. “The password is verde1300, and only the D is uppercase. But you won’t find anything about my grandson’s research there. We know nothing about it.” It was a half-truth. Nicholas had kept no records on his computer, going so far as to wipe out the browsing history so no one could tell he’d navigated to the email server for the hidden accounts. He had no doubt that a forensic computer examiner could find it, but these clowns didn’t seem smart enough. On the other hand, he knew rather more than he wanted to right now about the process Daniel and Sarah were using. To protect his grandson, he’d take what he knew to his grave, but he didn’t want to leave Bess at the mercy of these thugs. He hoped he could hold out if they decided to torture it out of him.

In truth, the intruders’ mission was just to take the old couple hostage. They had taken it upon themselves to get more information if they could. The objective was to get Rossler to volunteer everything in return for his grandparents’ safety. Impes was even now contacting Rossler to let him know of their predicament. Nicholas was thinking hard, trying to come up with plausible but false information to feed these guys, who he’d named in his mind Clown #1 and Clown #2. It helped ward off the fear that tried to creep in, though he suspected that Clown #2 was a lot smarter than #1. Maybe he should call them Good Thug and Bad Thug instead. The thought gave him a little chuckle that he suppressed. He said to Bess, “Don’t worry, honey. This will be over soon.”

Clown #1 sneered and tried to make it seem like that was a bad thing, like maybe it would be over because they wouldn’t survive, but something told Nicholas that they’d be okay if they could stay calm.

~~~

The phone number wasn’t one he recognized, but because the call had come in on his old cell phone, the one that he still used for work, Daniel answered. His senses went on alert the moment he realized that the voice was being electronically enhanced, no doubt for the purpose of disguising it. “We need to talk about your research into the pyramid code,” the voice said.

“I don’t think so,” Daniel answered. “I’ve abandoned that story.”

“You’ll still want to talk to me. A messenger will bring instructions. Pay attention or it won’t go well for your grandparents,” the distinctive echo of a dead line followed that.

“Wait, what? What about my grandparents?!” Frantic, Daniel dialed his grandparents’ home from his throwaway cell. There was no answer. Daniel forced himself to remain calm, understanding that going off half-cocked would do his grandparents no good. There was no choice but to wait for the messenger, and then do whatever the voice wanted to ensure their safety. While he waited, he composed a message on his laptop for the hidden email address. ‘Something wrong about grandparents. Waiting for messenger with instructions. Protect yourselves.’ With no more information than he had, it was the best he could do. Across the room, he saw Raj’s head pop up from his cubicle, looking at Daniel.

Daniel shook his head, and deliberately turned back to his computer. Until the messenger got there, he wouldn’t expose Raj. Not even then if he could help it. He had only a few minutes to wait. Tearing into the sealed envelope, he read instructions to go to a certain payphone a few blocks away and wait for a call. That was easy enough, and probably safe. Even in New York City, people couldn’t get snatched away from phone stands without exciting comment. This person obviously didn’t want a fuss, and was careful enough not to want to risk a phone conversation. He stood to go. Risking a glance at Raj’s cubicle, he noticed that Raj was looking up and around the room now and then. He waited just long enough to catch his eye, lifted the paper with the message, and ostentatiously dropped it into the wastebasket. He’d leave it to Raj to take it from there.

Moments later, he was striding down the sidewalk, dodging the crowds, on the way to the designated phone. It was ringing when he arrived.

“What took you?” said the same disguised voice.

“Had to make it look like I was going for coffee,” Daniel answered, hoping his excuse would be good enough. “What’s this about my grandparents? Where are they? What do you want?”

“Patience, Daniel. All in good time. We know you haven’t abandoned your research, so don’t try to lie to me. What have you discovered?”

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what this is all about, but one man has been killed over it already. It’s dangerous. We’re setting it aside. Tell me about my grandparents.”

“I know very well that someone has been killed; I gave that order. Shut up and listen, or your grandparents could be next. Their safety depends on your cooperation, now, and to ensure that, I’ve embedded a team at their house.”

Daniel’s blood ran cold at that. He was no doubt talking to Mark’s killer! And nothing was as important as his grandparents’ safety. He had no choice but to cooperate. A movement nearby caught his eye and he spotted Raj arriving at his side. Spontaneously, he reached out his free hand, and Raj caught his wrist in a gesture of friendship and support. No doubt Daniel’s face showed his distress.

“All right, you have it. What exactly do you want?” he said. Raj startled and started to shake his head.

“We know you had some sort of breakthrough in the translation. What did the message say?” continued the voice.

“We didn’t get all of it, but we think it corroborates our theory that there’s information of some sort coded into the pyramid. We have some of the data to translate it, but not all of it. What do you want, the data?” Daniel answered. Now Raj was violently shaking his head.

“We want everything you have. You’ll compile it on a flash drive and I’ll be in touch to tell you where and when you can exchange it for your grandparents.”

“I’ll have it for you within twenty-four hours. It’s not all in the same place, it will take a while to compile it. Please tell me you won’t harm my grandparents in the meanwhile; they have nothing to do with this.”

“That’s not entirely true, is it? Your grandfather’s been helping you. By the way, who’s your friend that seems to have such an objection to our conversation? Is that Rajan Sankaran?”

“How…where are you?” Daniel asked, looking around wildly. At this, Raj’s eyes went wide, too, but he stood his ground.

“We know more than you think. Your grandparents are fine; they’re at home and under my protection. My team will see to it that they’re comfortable, as long as you cooperate. By the way, you understand, don’t you, that if I see police or anyone else near your grandparents’ house, they’re dead and it will be like you pulled the trigger yourself. So you and your buddy there better get your asses in gear. The clock is ticking.” said the stranger.

“Wait, how will I communicate with you?” Daniel asked.

“I’ll be in touch. Keep both of your phones on. Just make sure that your girlfriend and your buddy there cooperate also.” With that, the line went dead again. Realizing that his throwaway phone had been compromised but that he couldn’t replace it until this was over, Daniel wondered,
Who are these guys?
Their access to information was as sophisticated as some government agency, if in fact they weren’t one of those agencies.

As Daniel hung up the receiver, Raj exploded.

“Who was that? Was he watching? What did he say that made you look around? What’s going on, Daniel?”

“One question at a time, Raj. I need some coffee, let’s sit down.” Daniel’s defeated tone made Raj look at him more closely. He took Daniel’s elbow and guided him across the street to a bakery, where they ordered coffee and Danish, and sat outside on a street side table.