Mortality concerned everyone. It was hard to believe the world would just carry on after you died, people living their lives, dawn breaking, the same trees and the same buildings standing uncaring, the same worries and fears and sheer delights being visited upon a new generation.
Alicia put a hand on his arm, perhaps guessing where he was. And her own motto stood forward in his thoughts once more: One life, live it.
He broke the introspective silence. “He have any plans for us?”
Hayden flicked a switch that turned the screens and all communications on. “I don’t know. But new officials usually change it up, so expect him to come up with something you least expect.”
“I hope that’s not a bloody omen,” Dahl said.
Kinimaka walked carefully over to the coffee machine. “I’m pretty sure it will be, brah.”
“Shit,” Smyth vented. “You should know better by now.”
Hayden calmed them with a steady cough. “All right. Quit it, boys. Let’s all get a little focus here.”
“On what?” Lauren piped up. “You called us all in here for this? Nothing’s happening.”
“Hooker’s got a point,” Kenzie said.
Now Smyth sized up the Israeli. “You wanna push that a little further?”
Lauren clicked her fingers. “I can fight my own battles, Smyth.”
Alicia picked up on that. “You still call him Smyth, eh? Dude, do you even have a first name?”
“When we’re alone we don’t talk overmuch,” Lauren said.
“Same for most soldiers,” Yorgi reflected.
Hayden finally managed to get herself heard over the chit-chat. “Updates!” she yelled. “As you know we’re kept informed of what’s going on in the world. Now, let’s start with Syria…”
As Hayden ran through the various new incidents around the globe, none of which were deemed serious enough for SPEAR to get involved with, Drake wondered if their patched, rag-tag crew was starting to fray. Was fatigue setting in? Did they all need to go and do something different for half a year?
Kinimaka came around with coffees, a bold Kona blend which Drake knew would keep him awake later but it was so bloody nice. Also, it was both hard and dangerous sleeping with a frolicsome Alicia bouncing around your groin. He’d slept in war zones that worried him less.
Dahl wandered over to him. “If I were you two I’d be a bit more discreet. The dynamic here is shaky enough as it is.”
Alicia frowned. “And yet I’m always there, aren’t I? Pulling you out of the sea after you couldn’t handle a little nuclear explosion. Flying to Barbados to join your busman’s holiday? What’s next — babysitting?”
Dahl looked horrified, as intended, and Drake let out a good chuckle. “Personally I’d love to see Alicia babysit your kids,” he said seriously. “Imagine the aftermath.”
Dahl shuddered. “Fine. I’ll shut up.”
“Good idea.”
Hayden cocked her head as an internal line started to ring. It wasn’t surprising that someone knew the team were here late, evaluating. They did work for the government after all.
Hayden flicked a button. “Yeah?”
“Hey. Interpol’s flagged up something you guys might be interested in. I’m sending it over to your inbox now.”
Hayden thanked the tech and tapped at a nearby screen. She threw the information up onto a large screen with a flick of her wrist, enjoying the standard Pentagon technology. What appeared to be an official email sat, scanned, virus-tested and cleared, ready to be opened. Drake noticed the sender’s name.
“Armand Argento,” he said. “Remember him? Good guy. Good agent. He was Aaron Trent’s inside man at Interpol.”
“The Disavowed crew?” Beau said. “I remember them too from Niagara Falls, though never had the pleasure of… bumping into them.” He gurgled, clearly remembering the skirmish where he’d inflicted several bruises upon the SPEAR team. “I know Argento too, from some European travels. A smart guy.”
Hayden opened the message, taking time to digest the information. “All right. It seems they sighted Tyler Webb.” She spoke the name as if she’d gotten a bad taste in her mouth. “But it’s over a week old. In Transylvania.” She shook her head.
Nobody spoke out with the expected flurry of bad jokes; instead focusing on Argento’s text and further information.
“Nothing concrete. Just a sighting by a local cop,” Hayden went on. “Reported too late to act upon. They believe he may have been visiting the local castles in the area.”
“It’s all guesswork. There are many castles in the vicinity, not to mention hundreds of homes, churches, villages…” she tailed off.
The team were all processing the email simultaneously.
“But then much later in Versailles,” Dahl said.
“When?” Alicia asked quickly.
“Just six hours ago.”
“The world’s most wanted man,” Smyth grumped. “And the French let him slip through their hands.”
“As did the Americans,” Beau said. “And most other countries.”
“He hasn’t slipped away yet,” Hayden continued to read. “They backtracked and say Webb boarded a Paris-bound train a few hours ago. It seems he was being chased through Versailles, at least, which is probably why he broke cover.”
“And it was not just a random robbery,” Yorgi pointed out. “Shots were fired, cops injured.”
“But they were defending Webb?” Dahl’s voice was laced with incredulity. “Why?”
“One thing’s for sure,” Smyth growled. “We won’t make the same mistake with Webb that we made with Nicholas Bell. This one ain’t comin’ back alive.”
“We will need to identify the chasers,” Dahl said.
“And why Webb has popped up in Versailles.”
“They backtracked his movements to a break in at the palace.” Another observation, this one from Mai. “Webb’s on the trail of something.”
“That’s why he let the Pythian organization destroy itself and then wither away,” Drake said. “His obsession with this Saint Germain character.”
“It must be a heck of a treasure,” Alicia said, “to so readily relinquish his entire privileged life for. What prize could be worth all that?”
“We have been lax,” Kinimaka said. “We should have been researching. But I guess that was Karin’s forte.”
“Not long now,” Drake put in. “She’ll be back.”
“The big question is…” Dahl added softly. “It seems by the wording at the end there, that Interpol are inviting us over?”
“Appears so,” Hayden replied. “So they can take on board our recent dealings with the world’s most wanted man. And Argento knows us.”
She made a call. “Wheels up in thirty. I’ll call Argento and then the State Department. Make your preparations. We should arrive in Paris by 4 a.m., local.”
The team took a common, deep gulp of air. This was how it always began. Planning for the new job, calling relatives to give them the news, not even time to slip back and grab a hug. Their lives were about to change once more, for better or worse.
Drake wished they could leave all the uncertainties and discontentment at the door, but this team had changed. Whether it was for the better was about to be determined.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Baconian cipher was a relatively simple cryptogram, but one that could still be tricky without respect and concentration. Webb had given it both, and figured out a location for the next clue on the train to Paris. The address was particularly interesting. Not a museum or church or palace this time, but a residence of sorts. Maybe this time he’d become one of the few individuals throughout history to be privileged enough to stand in one of the Count’s many laboratories. Maybe certain alchemical secrets would be revealed.