Parker certainly did. “I’ll take this to Jack. I’ll make him understand.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“If he doesn’t, then I guess we’ll have to go with Plan B.”
FORTY-SIX
The phone on Domenick Boucher’s desk started ringing as soon as he stepped into his office, almost as if the caller somehow knew that he had arrived to start his workday.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
Like everyone else in the civilized world, Boucher had begun to think of his desk phone as a relic from another age. He hardly ever used it. He was so accustomed to using his encrypted digital phone that he preferred to make calls with it, even when in his office, and anyone who might want to contact him directly, would almost certainly know that and have used his cellular number.
With a frown, he picked it up and cautiously said: “Hello?”
“Good morning, Director Boucher,” said an electronically distorted voice. “This is Deep Blue.”
Boucher’s forehead creased in concern. He was one of a select few who not only knew about Deep Blue — the one man the President trusted enough to run his new super-secret black ops team — but he also knew the man’s true identity. Chess Team however, had no ties to the Agency, and Boucher couldn’t think of a single reason why Deep Blue would contact him like this. There were other, much more direct routes of communication.
“I’m listening,” he finally said.
“The team recovered your missing contractor last night.”
“Sasha Therion?” Boucher’s anxiety eased measurably. “Alive and well, I hope.”
“That remains to be seen. There’s been a new development.”
Boucher listened without interruption, and when Deep Blue finished, he simply said: “I’ll make it happen.”
He then hung up and called for an emergency meeting with all senior department heads. Ten minutes later he addressed a conference room full of harried-looking staffers.
“As you all are no doubt aware, a few days ago one of our own, Field Officer Scott Klein, was murdered by a group of traitors. Sasha Therion, one of our contracted cryptanalysts was abducted in the same event.
“I’m pleased to say that last night, a Delta team rescued her. The team also recovered information relating to the development of an unspecified biogenic weapon.”
He briefly glanced at the Director of Sci/Tech, the only man in the room who knew the full details of what Sasha Therion had been sent to find. The man’s face creased in confusion at the seeming incongruity. No one else knew anything about the Voynich manuscript or what it purportedly contained, nor did they need to know.
A ripple of relief circled the room like a crowd wave at a sporting event. Boucher let them savor the news for a moment before dropping the other shoe. “At approximately 0900 Zulu time this morning — so about eight hours ago — our contractor and a Delta operator named Daniel Parker, went AWOL from Incirlik Air Force Base in Turkey. Their purpose is unknown, but it is believed that they might be on their way to the south of France, looking for a component necessary for the manufacture of the aforementioned biogenic weapon.
“It isn’t known at this point if Therion or Parker were involved in the original incident. They could be acting as free agents, or they might even be working under the assumption that they have the best interests of the nation at heart. Regardless of their motives, it is imperative that they be found and taken into custody.
“The Delta team will be handling the operational aspects; our job is to provide them with actionable intelligence — review video camera feeds, cell phone calls, get our assets in airports and train stations… Hell, get out a damn Ouija board, if it will help track them down.”
Boucher let that sink in for a moment before concluding. “Coordinate with my office for sectors of responsibility. Let’s make this happen, people.”
Boucher retreated back to his office and spent the rest of the morning assigning specific tasks to the different departments of his agency. He didn’t expect immediate results; it would take several hours to collect enough data to get started, and perhaps days to sift through it all. Worst of all, there was no guarantee of success, especially considering for whom they were searching.
Parker had received the very best training in escape and evasion techniques; if he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be.
FORTY-SEVEN
Rainer thumbed the button on his phone to end the call. He turned to face his employer with a satisfied grin. “We just caught a break that might make up for the disaster in Iran.”
The other man, who had been lounging on a couch and idly watching television, looked up with a frown at the implicit insult. “I work with what I have. We both agreed that it was too risky for you to make that trip. Obviously, our gangster friends weren’t up to the task of taking on the US Special Forces, but to be fair, we didn’t know they would be there.”
Rainer suppressed a chuckle. He had known; he had even said as much, but the billionaire had dismissed his concerns, claiming that Sigler and the others were almost certainly dead in Myanmar. Rainer hadn’t believed that for a second, if for no other reason than that he and Jack Sigler had unfinished business.
Still, going to Iran had been a risk he wasn’t eager to take, so he’d bowed to the other man’s wishes. While the triad soldiers, in the guise of a Chinese cultural delegation, were getting their asses handed to them, Rainer and his men had been indulging in a veritable smorgasbord of pleasures afforded to guests of the five-star Renaissance Shanghai Pudong Hotel, where they had been holed up since their escape from the facility in Myanmar.
He waved off the excuse. “My agency contact reports that Sasha has gone off the reservation, and she’s got help from Danny Parker.”
“Should that name mean something to me?”
“Parker was in my unit. He’s a good soldier and a smart guy, but I think he has a soft spot for Sasha. You know, she says ‘jump’…well, it sounds like he jumped.”
The billionaire still didn’t get it. “Why has she left?”
“The official word is that it has something to do with — get this—‘biogenic weapons.’ Does that sound familiar?”
The man’s eyes flitted back and forth as he pondered the news.
Rainer went on. “I think our girl solved the problem, and learned something important from the book. The Company is looking for her and Parker in the south of France.”
“France? What on Earth could be there?”
“I guess I’ll find out when I run her down,” Rainer answered confidently.
“Your decision to implant the RFID tracking chip in her when she was unconscious was fortuitous. That bit of foresight is going to pay off a huge dividend.”
“Yeah, well that’s me. Mr. Prepared. Speaking of which, I don’t want to get caught flatfooted like those jokers in Iran.”
His employer just smiled. “I think I can help you with that.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Daniel Parker breathed in the cool air and turned slowly to take in the panoramic vista laid out before him. Thousands of years ago, the Ardèche River had cut through the soft limestone landscape, leaving a deep gorge, and although the river’s course had changed long ago, the place still remembered. He felt that it remembered something else too, something much more ancient.