Tanaka slowly nodded. “You were most right before, Yoshida-sama,” he said, using a rare honorific. “We dare not wait any longer.”
Jun was surprised by his reaction — until Tanaka motioned to the neighboring computer screen, the one with the digital graph mapping current-time neutrino activity. A small gasp escaped him. The spikes of activity were growing more frequent, like a heartbeat boosted by adrenaline.
His own pulse leaped to match it.
He reached for the phone and a private number left for him, but his gaze remained fixed to the screen, to the crosshairs centered on the Northern Atlantic.
Someone had to get out there before it was too late.
Chapter 15
“Iceland?” Gray asked, shocked. He held the phone tighter to his ear, speaking to Kat Bryant. “You want me to head out to Reykjavik within the hour?”
He and Seichan were sharing the back of a black Lincoln Town Car. As a precaution, Kat had sent the car out to his parents’ house once she got word of the attack on the director. At the moment they were headed back to the National Archives. Monk and his two researchers had found something of interest, something too important or involved to discuss over the phone.
“That’s correct,” Kat said. “On Director Crowe’s orders. He wants you to take Monk, too. Pick him up on the way to the airport.”
“We’re headed there already. Monk texted me about some discovery at the National Archives.”
“Well, find out what that is, but be at the airport in forty-five minutes. And dress warmly.”
“Thanks, but what’s this all about?”
“Earlier I told you about that burst of subatomic particles reported from the Utah blast site. I’ve just spoken to the head of the Kamioka Observatory in Japan. He’s detected another surge. One that has him deeply troubled, coming from an island off the coast of Iceland. He believes the two neutrino surges might be connected, that the bombardment of subatomic particles from the Utah blast might have triggered this new Icelandic activity, literally lit its fuse. Director Crowe believes it’s worth investigating.”
Gray agreed. “I’ll pick up Monk and head out.”
“Be careful,” she said. Though her message was terse, Gray heard the underlying meaning. Watch after my husband. He understood.
“Kat, this mission sounds like something Seichan and I could do on our own. It might be best to leave Monk with the researchers who are pursuing the historical angle.”
The phone went silent. He pictured her weighing his words. She finally sighed. “I understand what you’re offering, Gray. But I’m sure those researchers don’t need Monk watching over their shoulders. Besides, Monk could use a little stretching of his legs. With a baby coming — and Penelope heading for her terrible twos — the pair of us is going to be housebound for months. So, no, take him with you.”
“Okay. But trust me, being housebound with you is not something Monk is dreading.”
“Who was talking about him?”
Gray heard the exasperation in her voice, but also the warmth. He had a hard time imagining such a life, the intimacy of two sharing everything, of children, of the simplicity of a warm body beside you every night.
“I’ll bring him home safe,” he promised.
“I know you will.”
After settling a few more details, they signed off.
Across the seat, Seichan leaned against the side door, arms crossed. It looked like she had been dozing, eyes closed, but he knew she’d overheard every word. This was confirmed when she mumbled, not bothering to open her eyes. “Road trip?”
“Seems so.”
“Lucky I packed my sunscreen.”
A short time later, the Town Car pulled up to the National Archives Building. Monk met them inside. He wore a wide grin, his eyes bright, and waved to them impatiently, plainly excited.
“Iceland,” he said as he led them back to the research room. “Can you believe it?”
From his manner, he was clearly enthused about doing a bit of fieldwork. But there remained a mischievous gleam to his eye. Before Gray could inquire further, they’d reached their destination.
The research room had undergone a dramatic transformation since they’d last been there. Books, manuscripts, and maps, along with stacked file boxes, covered the surface of the conference table. All three microfiche readers along the wall glowed with pages of old newsprint or pictures of yellowed documents.
Amid the chaos, Dr. Eric Heisman and Sharyn Dupre had their heads bowed over one of the boxes, searching its contents together. Heisman had shed his sweater and rolled up his sleeves. He removed a thin dog-eared-looking pamphlet and added it to a pile.
“Here’s another of Franklin’s monographs about the eruption…”
They looked up as Monk returned.
“Did you tell him?” Heisman asked.
“Thought I’d leave it to both of you. You’ve done all the hard work. All I did was order pizza.”
“Tell us what?” Gray asked.
Heisman looked to Sharyn, who still wore her tight black dress, but she had pulled a long white coat over it and had donned thin cotton gloves for handling fragile documents. “Sharyn, why don’t you start? It was your inspired suggestion that opened the floodgates. Then again, your generation is much more proficient with computers.”
She smiled shyly at the praise and gave her head a slight bow of thanks before turning to Gray and Seichan. “I’m sure we would have found it eventually, but with a majority of the Archives’ documents digitally copied, I thought we could sift through the records more efficiently by expanding and generalizing the search parameters.”
Gray hid his impatience. He didn’t care how they found it, only what it was. Still, he noted the amused twinkle in Monk’s eye. His partner was holding something back.
“We did a global search for the combination of names Fortescue and Franklin,” Sharyn said, “but we came up empty-handed.”
“It’s as if all records had been purged,” Heisman said. “Someone definitely seemed to be covering their tracks.”
“So I expanded the search beyond Franklin and tried all manner of alternate spellings for Fortescue. Still nothing. Then I simply tried putting in the man’s initials, Archard Fortescue. A.F.”
She glanced to Heisman, who smiled proudly. “That’s where we found it.” He picked up a sheaf of brittle yellow pages. “In a letter from Thomas Jefferson to his personal private secretary, Meriwether Lewis.”
“Lewis? As in Lewis and Clark. The two explorers who crossed the continent all the way to the Pacific.”
Heisman nodded. “One and the same. This letter to Lewis is dated June 8, 1803, about a year before the two left for that adventure. It concerns a discussion about a volcanic eruption.”
Gray didn’t understand where this was going. “What does a volcano have to do with anything?”
“First of all,” Heisman explained, “such a discussion wasn’t unusual — probably why this note drew no notice and wasn’t expunged with the rest. Over the course of their relationship, Lewis and Jefferson often discussed science. Meriwether was former military, but he had been educated in the sciences and had great interest in the natural world.”
Gray realized how much that sounded like any member of Sigma.
Heisman continued: “The two were very close friends. In fact, their families had grown up within ten miles of each other. Jefferson trusted no one more thoroughly than Lewis.”
Monk nudged Gray. “So if Jefferson was keeping secrets, there’s one person he’d surely take into his confidence.”