“When will she be conscious?” Steven asked.
“In about an hour. She’ll be in a lot of pain, so we’re going to be administering morphine for the first seventy-two hours via her IV. She’ll be groggy and out of it.”
Steven shook the surgeon’s hand. “Thank you for saving her life.”
“It’s all part of the job.”
“You speak excellent English, Doctor…”
“Faruk. I went to school at Penn State.”
The telltale odor of antiseptic hung in the room, an expected companion to the oxygen tubing, the heart rate monitor by Natalie’s head and her IV drip pole. The lighting was dim, set that way to promote rest. A nurse entered and checked her vitals. After fiddling with the IV line, she gave Steven a professional smile and exited.
Natalie’s eyes flickered open and searched Steven’s face, the drugs obvious in her dilated pupils and unfocused gaze. She licked her parched lips and croaked out, “Hello, stranger.”
Steven smiled and reached to hold her hand. “You’ll do just about anything to get attention, huh?”
“You should know that by now. Did you know getting shot hurts?” Natalie asked.
“I seem to recall it’s not a lot of fun. But the doctor says you’re going to be fine,” Steven said.
“Hopefully, better than fine.”
“He actually said you’d be super, but it sounded lame. I figured you’d think I was blowing smoke…”
“Is that an offer?” Natalie asked, her voice dreamy.
“Absolutely.”
There was a soft knock at the door, then Moody entered, his head bandaged and his eyes puffy.
“Who let the mummy in?” Natalie rasped.
“You should have seen the other guy.”
“You look like a raccoon,” she observed, then shut her eyes, drifting back off to sleep.
Steven released her limp hand and moved to the door, motioning to Moody with his head to step out into the hall.
“How are you feeling?” Steven asked.
“Like someone ran over me with a tank. You?”
“Never better. Nothing like a little close-quarters combat to perk up a dull day.” Steven eyed Moody’s bandage. “What are the odds we can get the helicopter to give us a lift out to the site tonight?”
“Nil. Too much going on. I’ve been running interference since I got out of the CT room. I have two guys on the ground out there to clean up the bodies and make sure nothing walks off and, apparently, your new friend from the Church has a whole crew sanitizing the area. Between his group and mine, I’d say you’re pretty much covered. Why? What do you want?” Moody asked.
“The laptop. A few other things, like clothes, ID…the usual,” Steven answered.
“It’ll still be there tomorrow morning. You wanna hook up around seven for a chopper ride?”
“I thought you’d never ask. I’m going to crash in Natalie’s room — they said they would bring in a cot. Can you meet me back here to pick me up?” Steven asked.
“Sure thing.” Moody paused, holding Steven’s gaze. “Take care of her. She’s one in a million. I probably have some sour grapes that it’s you and not me, but if she’s happy, that’s fine. You’re a fortunate man.”
“I know I am. And I will take care of her. You can count on that.”
CHAPTER 40
The following morning, the river bed was unrecognizable. The tents were stowed back in their containers, the kitchen and latrines broken down and packed, and everything was readied for departure. Steven’s and Natalie’s bags sat neatly next to Moody’s off to one side, with Moody’s two men loitering near them, trying to be unobtrusive in the already oppressive heat.
That will be one thing I won’t miss, Steven thought as the helicopter set down. Moody slid the door open with a tug, and they both hopped out as the blades slowed to an idle.
“See? Everything’s under control. I do have a little experience with these things, you know,” Moody said as they walked to their bags. Steven crouched down and did a quick inventory — computer, passports, wallets and money all there. He fished his binoculars out and scanned the canyon side, looking for the cave. All he saw was fresh dirt and sand in a spot three quarters up the north face.
“My guys said that Synthe had a crew out here last night with battery-powered lights setting detonators,” Moody said. “They removed the evidence and collapsed the cave, so there’s no proof anything was up there. I’ll give him credit for being efficient, that’s for sure. If you didn’t know what had gone down yesterday, you’d never notice anything. And by tomorrow or the day after, the sand and sun will have done their work, and there will be no trace.”
“You get the feeling he’s done this kind of thing before?” Steven asked, and then turned when he saw Moody glancing over his shoulder. Synthe was approaching from down the river bed. When he arrived on the mound, he shook hands with them both.
Moody spoke first. “I think some thanks are in order for saving everyone’s lives, mine included.”
“None necessary. Glad I could help out. It’s a shame this regrettable incident even took place.” He fixed Moody with a neutral look. “Or didn’t.”
“Exactly. Nothing to see here. Move along,” Moody replied.
“May I tear Dr. Cross away from you for a moment?” Synthe asked, taking Steven lightly by the arm, not waiting for a reply. He leaned in to Steven and spoke almost inaudibly.
“My side needs to have a word with you. Some assurances. Luca was working far outside his authority, and I need to know what arrangements he made so I can look at fixing things,” he said.
“I was afraid of that.” Steven went on to tell him about the tape, and the papal letters.
“When can you be back in Rome? Or put another way: the jet is at your disposal; when will you and the young lady be able to travel?” Synthe asked.
“She’ll be here for a week. But I can fly up tomorrow if you want. On the condition that I get a return flight, as well as one more flight for both of us in a week.”
“Consider it done.”
Steven looked in the direction of the cave again.
“How did you know about Luca, and when?”
“For a while. We were afraid that this had to be an inside job that required more than just a lowly novitiate’s level of information, even if he was in the Order and privy to at least some of the secrets. After that, it was just a matter of suspecting everyone until the pieces fell into place. For what it’s worth, I don’t think he got involved with Frank until the end,” Synthe said.
Steven shook his head. “It’s a shame. And they almost got away with it.” He paused. “I guess you’ll have your work cut out for you now, keeping this secret as well. A little harder than keeping a Scroll under wraps.”
“Actually, as you may have surmised, that’s a big part of why we need to have a meeting tomorrow,” Synthe confirmed.
“I got that. Airport at eight?”
“Don’t be late.”
Steven returned to where Moody was waiting and they gathered their bags and loaded them onto the helicopter. Within a few minutes, they were airborne and heading back to Amman. Steven felt something sharp jab him in the leg, and he fished in his pocket to retrieve the offending object. Then he remembered.
“Moody. I need to ask you to do me a favor, and swear you to absolute secrecy about all of this.”
Steven sat patiently in the ornately-appointed room at the Vatican. A hushed reverence hung in the air, and even the man who brought him a cup of coffee seemed steeped in formality and dignity. He studied the art on the bejeweled, ornately-engraved walls, and estimated that any three paintings could finance a small nation’s army for a year.