“Always overcautious,” said a second voice. “Perhaps it is for the best. There is no harm in taking a few precautions. Now, where is it?”
“Just a minute. It’s in my safe.”
Sofia’s heart lurched. Damn Arnau! He thought to sell the codex. She gripped the doorknob, ready to storm in and confront him, but then she paused. Some of the people who bought stolen artifacts were little more than wealthy eccentrics or gluttons who wanted to own a piece of history. Others, however, were dangerous. What sort were the men outside? Indecision rooted her to the spot.
“Here. Give me the money and go.” Arnau’s voice trembled. “I want this out of my house.”
“Let us see what we have here. Ah, very nice. You say this came from Atlantis?” The man’s tone expressed his obvious skepticism.
“That’s what I was told. I’ve studied it enough to be satisfied that it’s a genuine artifact. ”
“You’ve studied it.” The voice sounded flat.
“Yes, but only to authenticate it. Nothing thorough.” Arnau spoke quickly. “I don’t know what it says.”
“From whom did you acquire this piece?”
“You know I can’t reveal my sources.”
A dull pop made Sofia jump. On the other side of the door, she heard a thump and Arnau’s cry of pain.
“It is not a fatal wound, but the next one will be unless you tell me the truth. I ask again, from whom did you acquire the codex?”
Sofia’s stomach heaved. She had a feeling the fatal wound was inevitable, regardless of what Arnau told the men.
“I only know his first name,” Arnau groaned. “It’s Abed. He lives in Cairo.”
Another muffled pop and another cry of pain. That must be what a silenced weapon sounds liked.
“I’ve given you a measure of grace, Arnau. You’ll lose your leg, but you might live if you receive medical attention soon.” The speaker lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “You got this from Sofia Perez, didn’t you?” Arnau’s silence was all the answer the man needed. “Very well.”
Sofia didn’t need to hear any more. She was halfway out the window, her few belongings stuffed inside her shirt, when the next gunshot sounded. She clambered down the fire escape, dropped the last ten feet and rolled her ankle when she landed hard on the pavement. Fear gave her strength and she hobbled down the street at a half-run. The hour was late, but the hotel district wasn’t far, and there were always taxis about.
By the time she flagged down a cab, she was soaked with sweat and her white tank top wasn’t quite opaque any more. If the driver thought it odd to pick up a young woman in her nightclothes, he gave no indication, though he didn’t bother to hide the way he undressed her with his eyes. He sat up straight, though, when she told him her destination.
“United States Embassy. I’ll double your fare if you get me there fast.”
Tires screeched and horns blared as the cabbie stepped on the gas and pulled the cab out into traffic. Sofia watched the lights and the people flash past and wondered if anyone would believe her story.
Chapter 8
“I expected something fancier from a government agency.” Bones scowled at the faded carpet and plain, white walls as they moved along a narrow hallway at the back of the Truman Little White House. The famed building had suffered a great deal of water damage, but this section must have been waterproofed. The carpet was dry and the sheetrock walls unblemished.
“After all those years in the military, you still think government splurges on people like us?” Dane shook his head and chuckled. “Come on.”
“We’re, like, agents now. James Bond gets all those fancy toys. Why not us?” Bones scratched his chin. “Must be a British thing. You think I could fake a British accent?”
“I’ve heard your accent. Hate to tell you, but it’s not the best.” He ignored Bones’ expression of feigned insult. “Besides, this building was underwater only a few days ago, or have you already forgotten?”
“Sloppy Joe’s and Captain Tony’s got washed out. Trust me; I’ll remember this for a long time.”
“They’ll be back.” Already they’d seen many of the island’s residents pulling together in the wake of the tragedy that had taken so many lives and caused such devastation. It was both sad and heartening to witness.
“Misters Maddock and Bonebrake?” A husky man dressed like a banker, barred their way. Dane didn’t need to see the holster inside his coat to know he was a professional, probably military. His rigid posture and clipped manner of speaking spoke volumes.
“That’s us,” Dane said.
“Very good. Follow me, please.” He led them to a bookcase.
“Thanks, but I’ve switched to e-books.” Bones ran a finger down the spine of a very old copy of Tom Sawyer. The shelves held complete works of Alexandre Dumas and Mark Twain. “Besides, I don’t read anything published before nineteen hundred. Not enough sizzle, if you take my meaning.”
The man grinned and withdrew a battered copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, revealing a small keypad. He entered a code and re-shelved the book as the bookcase swung forward, exposing a blank wall of gleaming metal and a small black screen. “Left thumbs on the scanner, please.”
Bones held his thumb up. “Mine’s been up my butt half the day. Is that going to be a problem?”
The corners of the man’s mouth twitched. “Not for me. I never touch that scanner.”
Dane and Bones pressed their thumbs to the scanner and, with a hiss, a previously invisible door slid to the side, opening onto an elevator. Inside stood Tam Broderick. She checked her watch and gave them an impatient look.
“Late for the first team meeting. Not the way to impress me.”
Bones yawned and stretched. “Whatever gave you the idea that I care about impressing anybody? Besides, we’re five minutes early.”
“Five minutes early is ten minutes late to me. Now get in here and let’s get to work.”
“All I see is a down button,” Dane said as he stepped inside and the elevator began its descent. “Should I have brought my dive gear?”
“Sweetie, this place has been here longer than you’ve been alive, and we know how to waterproof when we want to.”
“I can’t believe there’s been a secret installation here all this time,” Bones said. “Seems like a conspicuous place to hide spook central.
“Sure has. The government built it during World War II and kept it going all through the Cold War. It got shut down for a few years, but reopened it again right after the start of the War on Terror. They were about to close it again when I requested we be headquartered here. Now it’s all ours.”
The elevator stopped and the door slid back, revealing a welcome area with plush, blue carpet, leather sofas, and an attractive receptionist with shoulder length, black hair and blue eyes, seated behind a mahogany desk. Five doors were evenly spaced along the wall behind her, with no signage to indicate where they led. Fine works of art lined the walls to their left and right.
“Everyone’s in the conference room, Ma’am.”
“Everyone except for these two.” Tam rolled her eyes in Dane and Bones’ direction. “Joey, meet Dane Maddock and Uriah Bonebrake.” Tam smiled sweetly as Bones’ smile flickered. He hated his given name.
“Call me Bones,” he said, taking Joey’s hand in a familiar way. “How about you and I get to know each other while Tam and Maddock go to their meeting?”
“Bones?” Joey frowned, and then realization dawned in her eyes. She stole a quick glance at Tam and then smiled at Bones with what Dane could have sworn was a touch of sympathy. “It’s very nice to meet you and I look forward to working with you.”
“You ain’t getting out of the meeting that easy, Bonebrake. Let’s go.” Tam led them through the door on the far right and down another hallway.