Anna spoke precisely. “What I was doing was interviewing Professor Boris Glukov on the discovery he had made. I had hoped to follow that up with an interview with Professor Thomas Lourds.”
“We’re past that now.”
“I’m not.” Anna’s gaze dipped to the protective case, then back at Lourds. “Something in there got your friend killed. We need to find out what that is.”
“I need to. You need to be safe.”
Anna frowned at him. “Yakov Fursin saw me with you. He is still alive. Do you not think that perhaps I am in danger now, too?”
She had a point.
“All right. As long as we can stay ahead of this thing. If this gets worse, you can go home to your father.”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “That I will not do. I left his house to become my own person.”
“This isn’t about being a person, Anna. It’s about being alive. You said your father was a military man. If this thing turns any worse, he should be able to protect you.” Lourds sighed. “If Boris had known investigating that tomb would get him killed, he wouldn’t have done it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She turned her hand toward the scrolls. “Yet here you sit with those scrolls, determined not to abandon them or whatever secrets they protect.”
Lourds didn’t have an answer for her. For him, it wasn’t a choice. This was something he had to do. For Boris, and for himself.
The waiter came up and politely inquired if they wanted anything. They had been speaking in Russian, and Lourds hadn’t even noticed until the man tried speaking in Russian.
In Dari, Lourds ordered hot tea and gosh feel, a type of fried pastry covered in powdered sugar and ground pistachios, even though he was certain neither of them felt like eating.
There was enough sugar and protein in the dish to break through some of the lethargy left by the post-adrenaline rush. When the waiter walked away, Anna turned her attention to Lourds. “What did you order?”
“Elephant ears.”
“Not truly.”
“That’s the literal translation from Dari. They’re a pastry. I think you’ll enjoy them. But if you want something else…”
She shook her head. “I am afraid I cannot eat.”
“There will be hot tea.”
“Tea would be nice.”
“Good.” Lourds picked up the scroll with the snakes carved on the ends of the wooden roller. He tried reading it again but couldn’t make out any more than he previously had. After a few more fruitless minutes, he turned his attention to the other scrolls. Somewhere in the histories, there had to be a clue.
Linko was in a car dealer’s office renting a vehicle when Mikhail Nevsky called his satphone. “Colonel, I see you have some bad news.”
“Things did not go as planned. There were many problems. Not the least of which was the Taliban attack and the arrival of the United States Army.”
“I saw that on the news. Have you taken custody of Boris Glukov?”
“No. Glukov is dead.”
“How did this happen?”
“I killed him.” Silence stretched on the phone line, and Linko knew his life hung in the balance. He hurried on. “Glukov found some scrolls in the tomb that had details about Alexander the Great.”
“What kind of details?” The Russian president sounded interested now, not angry.
“I do not know. Glukov could not read them, that is why he called for Lourds.”
“Were the scrolls lost in the avalanche?”
“No. They are with Lourds.” Linko watched through the door window as the car dealer pulled a late model sedan up out front. “Glukov and Lourds became separated during the attack. I could not get them both. After ascertaining Lourds had possession of the scrolls, the only thing that was removed from the tomb, I killed Glukov to reduce the elements I had in play. That left me only Lourds with the scrolls.”
“Under the circumstances, that is understandable, but still most regrettable.”
“I am in pursuit of Lourds now, but I do not know where he has gone. According to his file, he has a woman friend in Kandahar.” Linko pulled up the woman’s name from memory. “Layla Teneen. She is a public figure. I looked up information on her. It was also in Lourds’s file. She is part of the International Monetary Fund. There is a fundraising drive in Kandahar tonight. I thought Lourds might show up there.”
“That is good thinking, Colonel.”
“I will need an invitation to get in.”
“I will see that you have one. I will also arrange for you to have support from the FSB. Is there anything else you need?”
“Not at this moment. I will get this man for you.”
“I know you will, Colonel.”
The call ended with one of the most menacing clicks Linko had ever heard.
24
Lourds skim-read for several hours, blazing through the scrolls as fast as he could, searching for clues as to why Boris had been killed and why the killer had been there in the first place. To her credit, Anna didn’t interrupt him. She spent the time on Lourds’s computer, utilizing the satellite Internet access he had, as well as the extended battery life, to file stories regarding the attack and Boris Glukov’s death.
The waiter came and went, replenishing tea. Finally, in the evening when it was getting colder, another waiter showed up, and Lourds found himself finally hungry enough to eat. After consulting with Anna, he ordered dinner.
“Have you discovered anything?” She pointed at the scrolls.
“Only that Alexander of Macedonia had a very interesting life.” Lourds spooned up a bite of qorma alou-bokhara wa dalnakhod and relished the taste of chicken with sour plums, lentils, cardamom, and onion. It was warm and spicy, and with naan flatbread, extremely filling. He swallowed. “These documents, small peeks into the life of Alexander the Great, are priceless in themselves. Treasures, truly.”
“But they are not what got Boris killed.”
Lourds sighed. “No one knows any more about what’s in those scrolls than we do right now.”
“Than you do, you mean.”
Lourds inclined his head. “Than I do. And I’m telling you now that there’s nothing I’ve read in there that’s worth killing someone over.”
“Yakov was there looking for something. He did not go into that cave blind or simply hoping to find something. Someone sent him there.”
Lourds nodded. “I agree. But I have no clue what it could be.”
For a moment, Anna was silent. Then she took out her phone. “I took a picture of Yakov.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Taking pictures is one of the things I do in my job.”
“Let me see.”
She passed him the phone. Lourds examined the image and saw the Russian Today man squatting down with the rifle. She’d caught him in three-quarter profile.
“Have you seen him before?”
She shook her head. “Not until today. I sent his picture to some people who might be able to help us identify him.”
“What people?” Lourds was leery of telling many people about anything they were doing. He wanted to keep a low profile.
“Some newspaper contacts I have who are in the business of knowing who is who.”
“I assume you’ve heard nothing?”
“Not yet. What about the mystery scroll? I’ve seen you pick it up and put it back several times.”
Lourds massaged his temples. “That one makes my head ache. It’s a definite code, but I don’t know what it is.”