The Tenth Cycle: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 1) (25 page)

Daniel’s thoughts circled restlessly on the drive back to New York. The incident with his grandparents had shaken him, and in spite of the fact that he was acting normally, his stomach roiled at the thought of Sarah alone, and the mysterious James Jones character on the scene again. He had lost confidence in the CIA because of David’s failure to be there for him when needed.

Arriving at Sinclair’s address, he knocked on the door. Sinclair opened the door and his face lit up when he saw Daniel. “Don’t tell me the data is all ready already,” he deadpanned.

“Not quite, sir. We need to talk. And Grandpa says hi, by the way.”

“Come in, then, come in! How is your grandpa these days?”

Daniel began to tell him. When he was done, he held his breath. The last thing he’d said was, “So, if you want to bow out, I’ll understand. It’s gotten even more dangerous.”

Sinclair looked mutinous, and he asked, “Did you tell Nick that you were going to give me an out if I wanted it?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“And what did he say?”

“That you love a challenge, sir,” Daniel answered, not quite suppressing the grin that was starting.

Sinclair’s laugh boomed out. “That’s an understatement, son. Nothing I love more than laying about with a shillalagh, if the occasion arises. But, it seems to me that the best thing would be for me to get started on whatever you have now, and not wait for it to be complete.”

“Thank you, sir. But Raj has gone to ground. I have to wait to hear from him before I can put you in touch with him,” Daniel said gratefully.

“Very sensible. I’ll be ready when I hear from you,” Sinclair said.

“Um, ready for what, sir?”

“Ready to join him at his safe house, of course. And stop calling me sir. It’s Sinclair.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Sinclair. That sounds excellent. I’ll be in touch.”

Daniel took only long enough to stop by his apartment for a change of clothes before heading for Providence and Sarah’s arms. Sarah wasn’t surprised to see Daniel on a Thursday, as he’d said he was coming straight to her when he’d finished wrapping up at Grandpa and Grandma Rosslers’. She was so glad to see him in one piece that she flew into his arms.

“Oh, Daniel! I was so worried. Are your grandparents okay?” Sarah peppered Daniel with questions and apologies for yelling at him when he called earlier.

“Sarah, my love,” Daniel said after he had caught her to him and kissed her hello. “It’s okay, and I’m sorry I didn’t let you in on it sooner. Will you forgive me?”

“Oh, you silly man, I already have. I just needed to see you for myself, that you weren’t hurt. Since when do you go all Rambo like that?” she babbled.

“Since the assholes got personal,” he said. “I’d have done it for you, too, you know.”

“Promise me you’ll let the professionals handle it if anything like that ever happens again,” Sarah scolded.

“Well, I didn’t have that choice. David didn’t answer his phone and I couldn’t leave them in the hands of the people that might have been the ones to kill Mark,” he explained. “Besides, no one could be more professional than those two Marine buddies of mine.”

Sarah shivered. “I’m so glad your buddies were able to help you.”

“Me, too,” he said. “I’ve got them guarding my grandparents now, and I know they’ll be here in a heartbeat if we need them. I’ve got something else to tell you, but I’m starved, haven’t eaten since breakfast. Can we go get something?”

A little while later, over their favorite pulled-pork sandwiches at Fat Belly’s, Daniel told Sarah about the strange circumstance of James Jones showing up at Little Egg Harbor to take the hostage-takers into custody, and telling the police that statements from the victims wouldn’t be needed. They puzzled over it for a while; who the guy might be, what his interest in these events could mean, before determining that they didn’t have enough information to speculate.

As they walked back to Sarah’s house with Daniel’s arm wrapped tightly around her, both were thinking that they could hardly bear to be apart any more. Hours later, the two held each other close in an intimate embrace. Words didn’t have to be spoken for their love and devotion to be conveyed to the other. It was in the tenderness of his caress and in her soft sighs of pleasure.

Sidus had a lot to think about before reporting to Septentrio. Whether to tell him that Impes was dead by Sidus’s hand; whether to confirm Barry’s duplicity and most of all, whether to tell him that Impes had offered Sidus a piece of the pie they intended to steal from Orion. He shuddered. If Septentrio suspected he harbored any such thoughts, his fate wouldn’t be much different from Impes’s. On the other hand, how else would he have discovered the plot? Sidus put off the decision as long as he could, and then decided to come clean if necessary. Maybe Septentrio wouldn’t ask him the last question.

“Speak.” Septentrio’s voice hinted at something stressful, and Sidus swallowed uncomfortably. Bad timing, the Big Guy was already in a foul mood. But, he’d made the call and there was nothing to do but plow forward.

“It’s Sidus,” he said.

“Yes, yes, I have caller ID, you idiot. What do you want?”

Suddenly, he knew how to handle it. “Orders,” he replied crisply. “I have discovered a plot to steal the pyramid information and sell it to the highest bidder. I’ve dealt with one traitor, but the other is more high-profile. I want your orders before dealing with him.”

“Who?” Was the terse answer.

“Impes, and Allan Barry. According to Impes, it was Barry’s idea,” Sidus explained.

“So, it was Impes you’ve dealt with already? Protocol followed?” Septentrio said, in a deceptively mild voice.

“Yes, of course. I extracted all the information he could give me, which wasn’t much, and then processed the body according to protocol.” Sidus didn’t believe it was necessary to inform Septentrio that the ‘processing’ occurred before the death. He wouldn’t have cared.

“Well, it’s unfortunate about Barry. The man has been in a position to bring us information about many research projects in the past. But we can’t have him suborning our operators. He’ll have to go. Be sure you get what information he has now before you kill him.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. I’ll get right on it,” Sidus said. In fact, he’d already assembled a team. This time there would be no blunders like that of the unfortunate late Impes.  Carefully, he went over his plan.

The safe house where they’d take Barry was ready; stocked with food and an isolation room. Four men would guard the house, two at a time, and his best interrogator, a woman, would extract the information, painfully if necessary. It never ceased to amaze him what the gentler half of the species was willing to do, with the proper incentive. Not that his interrogator needed incentive. She was just naturally sadistic. His smile would have been chilling, had anyone been there to see it.

Now to put his plan into action. He made the call. “Take him from home if possible, but take him in any case. If you miss him at home, you’ll have to be careful getting him out of the building. You have the plans of the campus showing you where the security cameras are deployed. I needn’t tell you that if your faces show up on security footage, you’re of no use to us any more, nor what that means. Reigna, you are in charge. I’ll leave it to you to make the final plans, but get it done this week.”

Satisfied that his best team was on the job, Sidus relaxed with a cigar and an old brandy. The perks of being at the top were many and very satisfying. Later, he’d send for a woman.

~~~

On Monday morning, Sarah found a note from her proctor that Prof. Barry wanted to see her. Knowing his duplicity, the prospect of meeting him face to face was daunting. Could she face him without revealing that she knew the truth? On the other hand, the meeting could very well be about her tenure hearing, due at the beginning of next week. She couldn’t afford to ignore his summons. Sarah sent a quick email to Barry’s university account, asking if Wednesday after her late afternoon lab would be a good time, to which she received the terse answer, “Yes.”

On the same morning, Barry had been gone from his house for less than half an hour when five figures dressed in camouflage that blended in with the pre-dawn gloom made their way silently through his back yard from the alleyway behind. They were so proficient at this exercise that even the skittish Jack Russell terrier next door failed to detect their passing. The first one to the back door tried it, and then swiftly picked the lock, allowing all five to pass within. They expected to find the good professor still in bed, but instead, upon searching the house, discovered him gone.

“Bloody hell,” said the woman. “Why didn’t we know he was away?” This useless question, addressed in general to the men, met with shrugs. “

“Why don’t we check the office? Maybe he’s an early bird,” remarked the bravest of them. With the woman’s reputation, none of them wanted to incur her wrath.

“I suppose we must. What’s our backup plan?” The four made themselves comfortable in the Professor’s kitchen and had coffee while they perused the map and discussed the building where his office was located, the security cameras and the likelihood of encountering students. Deciding that the halls would be quietest between the tops of the hours, they made a plan and then left to carry it out. They would observe him, learn his habits, and then act.

After patiently observing for two days, the team was ready to act. Between five and six p.m. on Wednesday, they entered his office quickly and closed the door.

“Good evening, Professor.”

Barry sat up, startled at the intrusion. “Who are you, and what do you want?” he asked sharply. Without answering, one of them, the woman, stepped forward and with a swift move jabbed him in the upper arm with a hypodermic syringe. “What the hell?” Barry started, before beginning quickly to feel the euphoric effects of the cocaine.

Reigna watched closely without speaking, until Barry’s eyes dilated, then called the rest of the team forward for a teaching moment. “Notice that the subject has relaxed and has even begun to smile. This is due to the euphoria induced by the drug’s interference with brain chemicals. His eyes are dilated, which signals us he is at his most cooperative. Now we’ll inject the sodium pentothal, while he’s cooperative enough for us to deliver it intravenously.”

“Can he hear us?” asked one of the men.

“Yes, but he doesn’t care,” Reigna answered. “I gave him a large dose of the coke.”

“Won’t that and the truth serum together have a negative reaction?” asked another.

“Perhaps. But we will have our answers, and then we’ll kill him anyway,” she shrugged. “It’s too dangerous to try to get him out of here unseen. Lock the door.”

In the next half-hour, Barry answered Reigna’s questions as well as he could, but he just didn’t have enough information to satisfy her. In frustration, she asked him, “Who would know of the progress?”

“Sarah Clarke,” he muttered. “She’ll be here soon. Ask Sarah.”

“What do you mean, she’ll be here soon?” Reigna asked sharply.

“Appointment. Six o’clock. Be here. Report everything, bitch. Tired of waiting.” Barry’s words were slurred, his body beginning to shut down.

“Well, gentlemen,” Reigna exclaimed. “It seems we have an unexpected opportunity. Who has a silencer?” One of the men raised his pistol over his head. “Kill him,” she commanded.

The man obeyed instantly, shooting Barry in the temple at close range.

“Unlock the door and be ready. Ms. Clarke should be here any minute.”

Sarah put the meeting out of her mind, knowing that her Outlook calendar would remind her on Wednesday to take her completed paper with her. It was already in the hands of the Cairo University press, and should be published within the next couple of months, as they had received it well and disseminated it to expert reviewers for vetting. That night, she Skyped with Daniel; then there was class on Tuesday afternoon, and patiently correcting her students’ translations of the hieroglyphics that recorded the stories of Osiris and other Egyptian deities. By Wednesday, she had forgotten her appointment with Barry, and was looking forward to getting home after the lab. A quick check of her Outlook calendar revealed that her plans would have to be changed.

Sarah presented herself at Prof. Barry’s door as soon as she could after ending the lab and putting the classroom to order. The shadows were long, and the building dark already, but Prof. Barry was in, as evidenced by the light streaming from beneath the door. Sarah knocked, and a male voice said, “Come in.” Sarah turned the knob and walked in, turning to her left to greet Barry at his desk, but something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Barry was slumped over his desk, blood dripping from a frightful wound in his head. For only a second she froze. A memory of Mark flashed through her mind, and she had time to realize that Barry was dead, but no more than that. Opening her mouth to scream, Sarah felt a blow that seemed to explode the back of her head, and then everything went black.

~~~

In New York, Daniel had a meeting with Raj regarding Sinclair’s suggestion that he join Raj at his safe-house, and because Sarah’s lab had been later than normal due to a scheduling conflict, they had agreed that Wednesday night’s Skype session was a no-go. Raj had been agitated again about the potential of the CIA watching him, and it took Daniel several hours to calm him down. Especially in view of the fact that they probably were watching him because of his Area 51 interest, if what Luke had said was true. 

After the grueling evening with Raj, it was quite late when Daniel got home. He therefore thought nothing of it when he didn’t hear from Sarah that night, though he missed seeing that smile in his computer screen.

Thursday morning, Daniel got up late and rushed to get to the office, grabbing a donut and cup of coffee on the way. He was walking rapidly into the bullpen when one of the large TV monitors overhead blared a “Breaking News” alert. Everyone in the immediate vicinity stopped in their tracks to look, wondering if they had been scooped on something they should have known hours before, Daniel among them, though his column wasn’t normally subject to ‘breaking’ news.

As he watched, the headline flashed on the screen, “Second Academic Killed in Two Weeks; Murder at Joukowsky Institute for Archaeology and the Ancient World in Providence, Rhode Island” Unaware that his face had gone white, although his many female admirers took note of it, Daniel watched grimly as the story was expanded. The announcer sounded almost gleeful that the story was so shocking. “Professor Alan Barry, found dead in his office this morning, with an apparent gunshot wound to his head. Police have made no announcement as to time of death. Police have issued an all-points bulletin for a Dr. Sarah Clarke, now considered the primary suspect as she was reported to have had a meeting with Prof. Barry for last night, and is presumed to be the last person who saw him alive. Dr. Clarke is missing from her home and office.”

As Daniel watched in horror, Sarah’s face flashed on the screen. “Dr. Clarke is presumed armed and dangerous. If you see her, do NOT attempt to apprehend her. Call police at 204-555-7272 if you have any information regarding her whereabouts. That’s 204-555-SARA. We will bring you updates on this developing story as we have them.”

As the rest of the people who had been watching melted away, Daniel remained rooted to the spot, unable to think. Raj spotted him there and shook him by the shoulder. “What are you waiting for, man? You must find her!”

Daniel recognized the symptoms of shock he was experiencing, but he had no time to deal with it. Raj was right; he had to find Sarah. Shaking off the lethargy and assuming he would warm up as soon as he moved, Daniel’s first thought was of Ryan and Emma. God help him, but he had to report the loss of their little girl, his Sarah, and his fear that she was in grave danger, since it wasn’t possible she was a murderer. On shaking legs, he made his way to his cubicle and dialed the number, failing to remember the time difference.

~~~

Ryan answered, “This better be good. Do you know what time it is?”

Daniel’s strangled answer was, “Oh, God, Ryan. It’s Sarah.”

It took several minutes of shouting on Ryan’s part to break through the fog that even now threatened to swallow Daniel. At last, he pulled himself together long enough to explain, adding that he knew beyond all shadow of a doubt that Sarah would never murder anyone, not even a lowdown spy like Barry. His plan was to go to her house immediately, inform the authorities that she was more likely a victim than a suspect. At that, he almost broke down, unable to process that his Sarah might be gone. Ryan’s strong voice snapped him back to coherence.

“Pull yourself together, son. Luke and I will be there as soon as we can get a flight to Providence. We’ll call you with our arrival time. Get over there and stand up for my daughter, and for God’s sake, don’t go off the deep end on the way.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll see you soon, sir, and thank you.”

Daniel kept himself under strict control as he made his way to Kingston’s office. For all he knew, the son-of-a-bitch was involved in these murders up to his neck, and he had forgotten that Kingston professed to be old friends with Barry. His sole reason for talking to the man was to arrange for an indefinite leave of absence. At the moment, Daniel wasn’t sure he would ever be back, but the formalities had to be observed. He knocked on Kingston’s door.

“Come in.”

Daniel almost staggered into the room, still unable to shake off the shock that gripped him. Kingston looked at him in dismay.

“Good lord, Rossler, what’s the matter with you?”

“S-sir, family emergency. I need a leave of absence,” was all Daniel could manage by way of explanation.

“Are you okay?” Kingston asked.

“No, sir.”

“Then here, you’d better have some of this.” Taking a bottle of brandy and a shot glass from his lower desk drawer, Kingston poured a generous slug and handed it to Daniel, who downed it in one swallow. Would it help? Daniel didn’t know, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.

“Take all the time you need,” Kingston was saying. “Keep us posted.”

The impact of the strong drink so early in the morning did more to shake Daniel from his state of shock than his admonitions to himself to get it together. By the time he strode out the door, he was thinking more clearly and had a plan. He would have to trust himself to drive to Providence; at this point it was the fastest way to get there. Everything he would need was either in his laptop bag or at Sarah’s house, so there was no need to go home. He would drive to Providence, seek out the investigators in the case and tell them that there was no question that Sarah was in grave danger, if not already… No, he couldn’t go there. She was going to be okay. She had to be okay.

~~~

It was a mercy that the highway patrol across three states were apparently busy elsewhere. Daniel’s speed was seldom below eighty mph, and often above, but his headlong flight was not interrupted by such mundane concerns as speed traps. He made the normally three-hour drive in two and was at the police station where he and Sarah had spent a rough night just a couple of weeks ago, by noon. To his dismay, the first person he encountered was Sgt. Jackson, the lead investigator who had been so rude when he investigated Mark’s death.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re involved in this? Come to turn yourself in, Rossler? Where’s your girlfriend?” The sarcasm was back in earnest, as if he knew that Daniel couldn’t afford to take physical objection to it.

“You know you had it wrong about us the first time, Jackson, and you have it wrong about Sarah now. I’m here to help in any way I can. You’d better find her before they harm her, or I won’t be responsible for what happens to you.” The white-hot rage that the officer’s flippant remark generated served to steady Daniel, whose emotions had been threatening to incapacitate him all morning.

“Is that a threat?” Jackson’s misplaced humor was gone, replaced by a cold dislike of the man he considered a thorn in his side.

“It’s a promise. Sarah’s father and uncle are on the way. What can you tell me so far?” An equally cold dislike of the man before him pulled Daniel’s lip into a sneer, but his first priority was Sarah. If he had to work with Jackson, he would hold it together until she was safe. Then, if he had to investigate it himself, he’d find out why this arrogant bastard was in a position to harass innocent citizens, and expose it.

Their mutual dislike established, Jackson took one more shot. “What makes you think I would tell you anything?”

“Because I’m your best bet for solving this before your incompetence gets Sarah Clarke killed.”

Daniel received a text while getting what information he could from Jackson, and was forced to cut it short to pick them up at the airport. Luke had called in a favor and in short order obtained the use of a Learjet 75 business-class aircraft. Their arrival was imminent. On the way to the airport, Daniel reflected that he shouldn’t have been surprised at the lack of concrete information; Prof. Barry had been found only five hours before by one of his teaching assistants, who had an eight a.m. appointment. When the hysterical young woman rushed screaming into the hallway, the ensuing chaos had created a human traffic jam that the police had to fight through to get to the scene of the crime. That also meant extra manpower had to be called in to interview all the extraneous people in the vicinity, none of whom had any information about the crime, and all of whom were in a state of high excitement about being at the scene.

It was a madhouse, and that the information had reached the news media so quickly was almost certainly because of someone wanting their fifteen minutes of fame. It was Barry’s assistant who had supplied the information that he had a late-afternoon appointment with Sarah. Calls to her home and university office were unanswered, and it was quickly established that she was missing. While Daniel sped from Manhattan, police had finished up their interviews, secured the crime scene and sent in CSI for photos and trace evidence. Authorities were in the process of getting a search warrant for her house when Daniel showed up at the station earlier and ran into Jackson.

He had told them that he would cooperate with a search of her residence, to which he had a key, as soon as he returned from picking up her relatives. Daniel hoped to arrive at Sarah’s house well before the search team did, so that he could hopefully find her attorney’s name and phone number. Even though he knew that she had nothing to do with Barry’s murder, his natural caution wanted her represented during the search. Ryan and Luke were waiting at a shuttle stop when Daniel arrived. He stopped the car and got out to open the trunk for their small bags, one of which was a kit bag reminiscent of those carried by the radiomen in the units to which he had been attached in his Middle East days.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked.

Luke replied with a fierce grin, “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” The cliché was code for ‘none of your business’, of course. Daniel accepted it; the less he knew about classified matters, the better he liked it. On the way to Sarah’s house, Daniel filled them in with what he had been able to learn; not much. He also explained that they were hurrying to get there before the arrival of a search team, and that he had agreed to the search without a warrant in the interest of not wasting more time. Both of the others agreed, although they also agreed that if they could get her attorney there in time, it would be even better. Known facts covered, the conversation turned to speculation on why Sarah had been taken.

Luke was of the opinion that if the perpetrators wanted her dead, she would have been found with Barry in his office. Daniel felt a small release of his tension. Luke thought she was alive; therefore, she must be alive. That was a start. There was no longer any doubt in any of their minds that this string of crimes had to do with the pyramid research.

~~~

Arriving at Sarah’s in record time, Daniel rushed in and went straight for her home office, hoping against hope that she had her lawyer’s card in a drawer somewhere. Meanwhile, Ryan and Luke conducted a quick search of their own. Ryan pocketed the gun from her nightstand and stashed all the extra ammo and cleaning supplies he could find in his own suitcase. It was only a precaution, to keep police from jumping to conclusions. A quick examination revealed that the gun had been cleaned since last being fired, and it was reasonable to conclude that Sarah had not casually murdered someone, come home, cleaned the pistol and stashed it in her drawer before disappearing. Then he returned the suitcase to the trunk of Daniel’s car. Neither he nor Luke wanted their things to be subject to search, which they would be if they were found in Sarah’s house. Ryan returned to the house to discover that Luke was finished with his search and Daniel had fortunately found Sarah’s attorney’s card in the Rolodex Sarah kept on her desk. Handy that she didn’t totally rely on electronic records, since her laptop was now in the hands of the police and her cell phone missing, along with her person.