“Do you have a name?”
“No.” Hayder eyed the money. “I wish I did.” He frowned at Luo. “You know, if all you wanted was information, we could have done this over coffee.”
“We both know that’s a lie,” Luo said. “You needed to know I’m serious.”
Hayder paused, then nodded. “What now?”
“My men will release you. You’re free to go. The money is yours. It’s payment for your silence. But if I hear you asking questions about anything we discussed today, you won’t be asking many more questions after that. Do we understand each other?”
“Yeah. We understand each other.”
Luo summoned the men he’d hired and told them to release their prisoner. They were old army buddies. A military career had left him with friends all over the former Soviet Union. Most of them were more than willing to moonlight for a few extra bucks.
Luo’s next lead was in Chornobyl. He actually had to go to the radioactive wasteland himself. Only idiot tourists went there. He dreaded the notion, but his pursuit of the treasure left him no choice. He was obsessed with it.
He had lived long enough to become what he once hated, but that wasn’t what shocked him. The big surprise was that he couldn’t have been happier about it. No other endeavor had ever fulfilled him so much. Nothing he had ever done had given him such joy.
CHAPTER 1
Bobby’s finger hovered over his keyboard. With one stroke he was about to cancel his Facebook account. Making his life public had exposed him. Increased the odds someone from his prior life would recognize him. He’d gone ahead and created an account anyway. He had fans. Female fans. Gorgeous female fans. From places like Detroit, Chicago, Montreal, and Toronto. Even Sweden and Holland. They watched his videos on YouTube and sent letters to Fordham. It was all so flattering. He couldn’t refuse.
But now his conscience was nagging at him. He’d promised Nadia, his cousin and guardian, to stay away from social media. No one else could know about his past. No one.
He pressed the RETURN key and followed the proper procedure to confirm his account had been cancelled. Less than a minute later his smart phone buzzed. He checked the screen.
A text message. From Derek Mace, his best friend and personal bodyguard on the Fordham Prep hockey team.
Yo, Bobbyorr, you there?
The team had bestowed the nickname because he reminded them of the Bruins legend.
Bobby typed his answer. What’s up, killer?
You’re really out?
Yeah.
My mom heard you beat the rap.
She heard right.
You’re out for good?
As long as I stay out of the penalty box.
Awesome!
Yeah.
How was jail?
Bobby remembered the claustrophobia, the trembling in the middle of the night, the beatings, and the ten days in the infirmary that followed.
It wasn’t.
Wasn’t what?
A place you ever want to visit. I have to go now.
Wait. We have to celebrate.
Thanks, but I’ll pass.
I have your favorite snacks and refreshments. Crème soda and popcorn.
That was their code for beer and pot. Bobby remembered drinking and getting stoned with Derek, some of their other teammates, and a bunch of girls. That was before he was charged with the murder of an English businessman. After almost ending up in jail for the rest of his life, the thought of doing something so stupid was unimaginable. Honest to God, he thought, it was as though someone else had borrowed his brain.
On a diet. No more crème soda or popcorn for me. See you next week.
Bobby turned off his phone.
He shut down his other social media accounts and connected to his public e-mail account. He’d created it so he could isolate messages from strangers via social media.
Three messages leaped off the screen. They’d been sent intermittently during the last two weeks from the same sender. The subject line had been left empty in each case.
The sender’s name was GenesisII26486. He recognized the numbers immediately. April 26, 1986. The date of the explosion at the Chornobyl nuclear power plant. More importantly, he recognized the phrase Genesis II. It stirred memories, tapped his heart, and left him stunned. The subject of the e-mail had been left blank, as though the author knew the sender’s name alone was enough to capture his attention.
The sender was right. The only person who knew the meaning of Genesis II besides him was dead. The e-mail meant someone else knew the secrets of his past. The questions were who had discovered him and how had he obtained his information?
Bobby opened the e-mail.
There was no message, just a link to an attachment. Bobby clicked on the file. It took forever to load. A photo unfolded on the screen. He stared at it dumbfounded.
“Nadia!” he said.
She came running from her bedroom. He stood up and met her in the doorway. Relief washed over her face. It gave way to confusion.
Bobby stepped aside to let her in.
“Computer,” he said in Ukrainian. He would have liked to have said something more but he was too shocked to form a complete sentence. Besides, nothing more needed to be said.
Nadia looked at the screen. Bobby stared over her shoulder.
It was a photo of a necklace and a locket in the palm of a boy’s hand. It looked identical to the locket Bobby’s father had given him in Ukraine. They’d learned three weeks and three days ago that Bobby’s locket contained part of a precious formula. The other half of it was missing. There was no way to know if the second half of the formula even existed.
“Why did you take a picture of yourself holding the locket?” Nadia said.
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“No one.”
“I’m confused.”
“That’s not my hand.”
Nadia’s eyes widened.
Bobby edged past her and slipped into his chair. “There’s another locket.”
“There’s another boy,” Nadia said. “When was this sent?”
“There are three e-mails. The last one was sent five days ago. I just opened it.”
“Who sent it?”
“The sender’s name was GenesisII26486.”
“Does that mean anything to you?”
Nadia had proven her love. Bobby knew he could trust her. Still, for reasons beyond his comprehension, he couldn’t admit he knew the meaning of the phrase. He desperately wanted to, but he couldn’t stand the thought of talking about his past. He just couldn’t.
“The last five numbers are the date of the Chornobyl explosion,” Bobby said. “In Ukraine they put the day first, the month second. But Genesis II. No. That doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Can you get any more information about where it was sent from?”
Bobby summoned the source information. Half a page of gibberish came up. Bobby pointed at the screen with his pen.
Sender> Okuma-asahi.net.
“This is where the message originated,” he said.
“Asahi,” Nadia said. “That sounds Japanese.”
“Must be the local Internet provider.”
Bobby searched. Asahi Net was, in fact, one of Japan’s top broadband providers. While the sender’s name had struck a familiar chord, the Japanese source baffled him.
“What about Okuma?” Nadia said.
Bobby searched again. A Wikipedia page offered five subjects named Okuma. Nadia and Bobby scanned the list. Bobby didn’t look beyond the fourth entry. He knew Nadia was staring at the same entry without even bothering to look at her.