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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Thessaloniki was a big city. There were ruins, fortifications, sites of ancient battles. Korov thought he'd look around and explore after his business with Gelashvili.

Gelashvili was under guard in the AHEPA University hospital. It was a modern complex with several wings and outlying structures. Korov parked near the main entrance. The day was gray with steady, soaking rain. He went over the steps of penetration in his mind.

Korov had studied plans of the building. He knew where the stairways were located, where the roof exits were, how many elevators there were and where they went, where the various departments were situated.

He'd chosen one of his favorite weapons for this assignment. The PSS Silent Pistol fired a 7.62X41mm armor piercing round. The unique design prevented escape of any explosive gases. Gases made noise. It had the additional advantage of short barrel length and small size. The pistol was ideal for his purpose. Conventionally silenced pistols were incredibly loud compared to the PSS. No one would hear more than a light cough when it was fired. It only held six rounds, but that wasn't a problem. He wouldn't need six.

Gelashvili would be restrained in his bed with handcuffs to the frame. There would be a guard outside his door. If there were two guards, things could get messy. Probably, only one.

Korov had another Spetsnaz favorite with him, an OC23 Drotik. The Drotik fired a small 5.45X18mm round from a magazine of 26. He could select single, three round or full auto fire. At 1800 rounds per minute, the pistol was uniquely lethal. It had light recoil, easily controlled.

He got out of the car and walked to the entrance. A semi-circle of flags set on tall poles hung like wet sheets in the rain. A long portico extended over the main doors. He walked inside. Leaping figures were painted on the walls against a yellow background. Korov supposed it was meant to convey a sense of health and energy. He straightened his tie and walked to the information desk. A middle-aged woman sat behind the counter, entering data on a computer. She glanced up as he approached.

"Excuse me," Korov said in English. Anyone behind that desk would have to speak English. He took out his wallet and showed her identification stating he was Inspector Allon Dubois of Interpol. He was wearing a dark suit of European cut, the kind of suit an international cop might wear.

"I am here to interview a prisoner, Gelashvili. Can you tell me where he is?"

Korov held the ID close so she could read it. It would have gotten him into Interpol HQ. The forgers at SVR were the best in the world. It was a source of comfort to agents in the field.

"One moment, Inspector." She entered a few keystrokes. "He's in 4003. Fourth floor." She pointed. "Take the elevator down the hall. On the fourth floor, turn left, go to the second corridor, turn right and you'll see it on the left."

"Thank you. You've been very helpful." He smiled at her and turned to the elevators.

"Your colleagues are already here."

"Oh?" Korov turned back. "Both of them?"

"Yes, about a half hour ago. Shall I call up and let them know you're coming?"

"No, thank you. I'll just go on up. They knew I'd be late."

He walked away toward the elevators. He glanced back at the helpful clerk. She'd gone back to her computer. Good. No phone call. He had to make a choice. Abort and try again later? What if the agents were here to move Gelashvili to a secure location? He couldn't take the chance.

He might need the Drotik after all.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Outside Nick and Selena's hotel the wind had picked up. Nick stood in front of the windows looking out. The drizzle had changed into hard rain. The Aegean Sea was almost invisible through the sheets of water pounding against the window. Somewhere across the waters lay Homer's Troy. He could hear heavy surf driving up against the shore below. Selena sat in an armchair with her laptop. She'd been sitting there for the last hour.

Nick was beginning to think they were at a dead end, caught up in a wild goose chase. The chances of finding the urn or any part of Alexander's treasure were slim to none. How long could something like that remain hidden? This was Europe, plundered and pillaged and raped by armies, jacked up kings and brutal emperors for thousands of years. No one could conceal that kind of wealth for all those centuries. Then again, no one had ever found the Templar treasure. Maybe it was possible.

He watched Selena. Her face was a study in concentration. He thought about the condo in D.C. and moving in together. He had no clarity in his thoughts about it. The lease on his apartment didn't run out for another year. He decided he'd hold onto it for now.

"Look at this." Selena broke into his thoughts. He went over to the screen. It showed a tourist portal for Bulgaria.

"Bulgaria."

"Yes. Or Thrace, if you prefer."

"What did you find?"

"I went looking for something to match that inscription. Remember? 'By the springs of Thrace, where the two rivers cross.' I think I know the general area. There are a lot of springs in Bulgaria."

She moved the mouse, clicked. A picture appeared on the screen of a large city with big churches, cobbled streets and happy people. The churches were dome shaped and old. The people were young. None of them were dome shaped.

"Sofia?"

"It's Sofia, accent on the first syllable. The capitol of Bulgaria. It was settled in the seventh century BCE and built around a mineral spring."

"What about the rivers?"

"Sofia sits in a big valley at the foot of a mountain. There are two rivers that run through the city, the Vladaiska and the Perlovska."

"Two rivers crossing and a spring. I think you got it. But we're going to need more than that. It still doesn't pinpoint an exact location."

"It's all we've got. The inscription might have been left for someone besides the Romans."

"Someone who needed to know where the treasure was taken."

"Yes." She stretched.

"Doesn't mean it's still there or we can find it."

"No, but we're a step closer if I'm right. Maybe we could smoke out someone with this."

"How do you mean?"

"We could let the idea about Sofia slip out. Maybe someone turns up where they shouldn't and we can track them back to the source."

"And pin it down." He thought about it. "It's a good idea. We'll run it by Harker. She can decide how to do it."

She stood and walked to the window. It was still raining. The wind had died. The sea was gray and uninviting. She thought about Homer's description of the Aegean as the "wine dark sea". It was dark, all right, but it wasn't the color of wine today.

Nick came up behind her. "What's going on with Steph?"

"What do you mean?"

"She seems different somehow. Lighter."

"You really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"She's sleeping with Lucas. I think she's in love with him."

"You're kidding. He's CIA."

"What difference does it make?"

"Security comes to mind. Plus he works for Lodge."

"Lucas has high security clearance. And he doesn't work for Lodge, he works for Hood. Steph isn't going to tell him anything. I don't think he'd talk to her, either."

"Harker know about this?"

"I'd be amazed if she didn't. She hasn't said anything. Steph deserves to be with someone if she wants. It's not easy in our work. "

"Tell me about it."

"Are you hungry?"