The entire team found their mouths agape. Kinimaka said, “Get outta here.”
“He called it ‘the art of telegeodynamics’, described by him as a controlled earthquake. He stated that the invention could be used to the greatest effect in war.”
“Of course,” Mai breathed,
“Then there is HAARP,” Patterson went on. “A huge $250 million project funded by the U.S. Air Force and Navy, curiously located in the same place — Colorado Springs — that Nikola Tesla conducted his own earth energy experiments. They’re studying the ionosphere.”
Drake waved a hand. “Okay, you’ve convinced us, for now. But all this gets us no closer to finding out what Cayman and his backers are up to.”
Then Karin’s voice cut in. “This might. I have Secretary of Defense Gates on the line. And brace yourselves — I don’t think it gets worse than this.”
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
Karin patched Gates through on a conference call line. The Secretary of Defense’s voice sounded strained, and Drake clearly heard the underlying exhaustion in the normally upbeat tones.
“The tombs in Iceland, Germany and Hawaii have come under fire,” he reported. “Not only that, they are now in enemy hands. We still control the surrounds, but the tombs themselves are occupied by hostiles. God help us.”
Hayden stepped closer to the phone. “Is it Cayman and his boss?”
“We don’t know. They have hostages. We’re having enough trouble convincing the local authorities that the hostages are the diversion, without wondering who ordered and executed the attacks.”
“Leave that to us,” Hayden said. Briefly, she reported their findings to date. Drake stated that it sounded like the ‘three like minds in three tombs’ translation was being followed to the letter. Gates sounded distracted, but seemed to take most of it in. When Hayden finished, Gates cleared his throat and took a moment to think before speaking.
“We’re truly being handed our asses here,” he said. “No one foresaw someone having the capability to organize a simultaneous strike against all three tombs and, not only that, but actually take them. You would think we’d have learned after the Kovalenko business.” He paused. “But still, the serpents inside Capitol Hill distract those who would do good with their constant maneuverings and cunning trickeries. It gets harder every day to keep your eye on all the right balls, to keep them in motion. But now — now we will pay the price. It will take a miracle to get out of this one intact.”
Gates ended with a brief call to arms. When he finished, the people in the little room, standing close the heart of ancient Babylon, in sand-scoured, sun-scorched Iraq, knew the heights to which they had to reach.
Higher than ever before.
“At least we now have a plan,” Drake said. “We have three different tombs with three forces inside. These ‘like-minded’ men will be there too. We need to stop them activating that device by any means necessary.”
Dahl moved to the table, staring down at the objects resting there. “And we’ll take the swords with us.”
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
Jonathan Gates replaced the receiver in its cradle and put his head in his hands. It constantly amazed him how these egotistical sons of bitches found so many inventive ways to try to end the world. Or rule it. Or whatever twisted designs of supremacy these warped and pitiless individuals aspired to.
He sat back in his leather chair, staring intently at the Stars and Stripes that hung from a flag pole to the left of his desk. When he shifted, he could see its splendor repeated in the highly polished circular table where he held private meetings, not simply a symbol to him, but a warning to be heeded, a promise to be kept, a way of life to be maintained.
The photograph of his wife stared back intently from the right hand side of his desk. Not a day went by that he didn’t miss her. Not a day went by that he didn’t quell a rush of intense hatred for her murderer. He touched the frame lightly, a smile lifting the edges of his lips.
A moment later, one of the phones before him started to ring. As ever, even though a light was flashing, he had a moment’s hesitation, making sure he picked up the right one. It was an internal line.
“Mr Secretary, I have a Sarah Moxley on the line. You recently approved her. She’s hoping for a lunchtime meeting today, but asked that I stress this is not yet an interview. I have her on hold, sir.”
Gates stared thoughtfully at the paintings above him. Not an interview? Was she trying to put him at ease or wind him up? It didn’t matter, he could handle anything she threw at him. If only her timing had been better—
“Please tell her I have to reschedule.”
“Yes, Mr Secretary.”
Gates tapped the plastic phone, thinking. The attacks on the tombs carried with them a tiny sliver of silver lining. It appeared that now, General Stone wouldn’t be able to execute his inane plan. The President would be off the hook. As would Gates. But, he knew that with people like Stone, there was always going to be a next time. He made a decision and called Lauren Fox on a personal line.
“Things have changed,” he said without preamble. “It doesn’t have to happen.”
“Jesus, are you kidding? I already made contact.”
Gates frowned. “What sort of contact?”
“Not that sort. But—” the New Yorker paused, thinking hard. “The sort that, if cancelled, might seem suspect.”
Damn. Gates reviewed his thinking one more time, but kept coming back to that old adage — don’t poke the beast. There simply wasn’t any gain in provoking a situation that didn’t yet exist. Some men he knew did like to gather dirt, but it wasn’t Gates’ style.
“Sorry, Lauren. The fallout won’t be as bad as if you went through with it, surely.”
“It might be as bad. And you wouldn’t get another chance.”
She was right, but Gates just couldn’t do it. “Abort the plan,” he said. “I’ll speak to you in a few days.”
Now he stood up and paced his office, black polished shoes treading the plush blue carpet in the footsteps of the men who came before him. The pressure of office bore down so hard it felt like all the weight of the White House was upon him. His team, led by Hayden Jaye, were in the fight of their lives and separated. Even now they fought an unknown enemy without a clear plan of action. The world was on the brink.
Again.
Damn these fucking tombs, he thought. They should all be blown to hell.
Quickly, he made himself calm down. Poured a glass of water. Stared without seeing out of the window. Then he called his secretary back.
“Come to think of it,” he said. “I need the distraction. Call Miss Moxley back and arrange that lunchtime appointment.”
“Yes, Mr Secretary.”