by Alex Lukeman
"It's an account boasting about the power of the homeland. It says the priests lifted heavy blocks of stone into the air using an object given to them by the gods, an artifact of some kind. "
"A force that could lift heavy stones? Thousands of years ago?"
"That's what it says."
"That must be what Sokolov meant about military implications. If the Russians think there's anything to this, they wouldn't want him telling anyone about it."
"I wonder if he's in Paris?"
"I doubt it. It must've taken days for that letter to get here. Then it had to go through your agent to you. If he'd followed through on his plan he'd be here by now. He would have contacted you."
"You think they caught up with him?" Selena asked.
"If they did, it wouldn't be good news for him."
"If he's a senior researcher with a prestigious Russian Institute, he'll be in the database. Steph can look him up."
Stephanie Willits was Director Elizabeth Harker's deputy, in charge of the Project computers. If what you wanted was in a database somewhere, Stephanie could find it.
"We'll ask her when we go in."
Selena's voice was enthusiastic. "We should look for that pillar. There's more written on the back where I can't see it. It might tell us more."
"Does the map show where it was photographed?"
"Not exactly. Marsá Matruh is on the Mediterranean coast west of Cairo. The spot on the map is farther on, toward Libya. "
"I don't think foreigners are popular in that part of the world right now. It won't be easy to get to it."
"If it led to discovering the force mentioned in that inscription, any effort would be worth it."
Nick reached up to scratch his ear but thought better of it.
"I suppose so," he said.
CHAPTER 3
Elizabeth Harker opened the French doors onto the patio outside her office and contemplated the day ahead. Security be damned, it was too nice a day to leave the doors closed against the spring air. Later it would be humid and hot. This early in the morning, the breeze was cool and fresh. The scent of flowers and new grass drifted into the room.
Birds sang and chirped outside. She hoped the cat didn't catch one and bring it to her as a gift.
Usually she dressed in a black pantsuit and white blouse. Today she'd reversed the pattern. The suit was white, the blouse black. A gold and emerald pin in the shape of a Celtic knot graced her left breast. The emeralds picked up the vibrant green of her eyes.
Elizabeth liked to dress in black and white. It kept things simple. Her life was complicated enough without worrying about what she was going to wear. The habit had started when she was in law school and carried over when she went to work for the Justice Department.
She'd been part of the 9/11 task force but as the investigation progressed, she'd become uneasy and then concerned. She'd argued with the conclusions being fed to the media and the public about what had happened. Elizabeth was branded as someone who wasn't a team player and transferred to a dead-end job on an endless RICO investigation. She'd been about to resign when President Rice tapped her to head up the Project.
Rice had a problem with the intelligence agencies. Sometimes they thought they knew better than the White House what needed to be done. Critical information was withheld because someone decided Rice had no need to know. How the hell was he supposed to make good decisions when he didn't have all the facts he needed? He'd wanted a new agency that answered only to him. He'd wanted it small and out of the public eye, with someone to run it who would tell him the truth. It was Harker's maverick refusal to go along with the official story about 9/11 that had caught his eye
Elizabeth had built a team she was proud of, led by Nick. He was the first person she'd recruited, right out of a hospital bed in Bethesda. Sometimes he'd been difficult to handle but she'd never regretted the decision.
Selena entered the picture when her wealthy uncle was found tortured and murdered. A personal friend of the president, Rice asked Elizabeth to look into it as a favor. Events piled on one another and now Selena was part of the team. She'd earned it, the hard way. She had the bullet wounds and scars to prove it.
The other two members of the field team were Ronnie Peete and Lamont Cameron. Both had been badly wounded in Germany during the last mission. Ronnie had been a Gunnery Sergeant in the Marines. Lamont had been a Navy SEAL before coming to the Project.
Elizabeth worried about them. Years of wounds and surgeries were beginning to take a toll on their bodies. It was true for Nick as well. Selena had never been in the military but after few years in the Project she was catching up to the others.
The team always seemed to find the sharp end of the sword. Elizabeth prayed they would all continue for a while longer. She couldn't imagine replacing any of them.
The last piece of her team was Stephanie Willits. Steph was as good with the computer as the others were with their weapons. With Steph at the keyboard, the Crays downstairs were a powerful resource at Elizabeth's command. If there was anything Stephanie couldn't do with a computer, Elizabeth didn't know what it was. She was essential to the success of the Project.
Stephanie walked into the room.
Elizabeth said, "I was just thinking about you."
"Nothing bad, I hope."
"Not at all. I was thinking how grateful I am that we work together."
Steph smiled at her. "It's mutual."
"You look chipper today," Elizabeth said.
"I think Lucas and I have finally gotten past what happened."
What had happened was a highway ambush by assassins trying to take out the team. Three months pregnant, Stephanie had lost the baby. Lucas Monroe was the Director of Clandestine Services at Langley and her lover. He'd been driving the car and seriously wounded at the same time. The aftermath had been days of dark depression and grief.
"We're going to try again," Stephanie said. "The doctor said there's no reason we couldn't have another child. We weren't ready before now." She paused. "I wasn't ready."
"Steph, that's wonderful. I'm so happy for you. I think it's the right thing for both of you."
"What's on the agenda this morning?"
"Nick and Selena will be here any moment. Ronnie and Lamont are over at Walter Reed for checkups. For once there doesn't seem to be a fire we have to put out."
"That won't last long," Stephanie said. "We'd better enjoy it while we can."
"We haven't done anything together for fun in quite a while. I thought we could all have lunch at that new restaurant in Georgetown. If we go early enough, we'll get a good table."
"That's a great idea," Nick said through the open door.
He came into the room with Selena. They took seats on a long leather couch facing Elizabeth's desk.
"Where are Ronnie and Lamont?" Selena asked.
"Getting checked out at Walter Reed."
"What are we looking at this morning?" Nick asked.
"I was just telling Steph things are quiet."
Selena said, "This may change that."
She handed Sokolov's letter with the map and photograph to Elizabeth.
Stephanie said, "I told you it wouldn't last long."
Elizabeth examined the photograph.
"A stone pillar? What's that on it?"
"Two kinds of writing. An early version of hieroglyphics and a variation of Linear A. That picture was taken in Egypt. I've only made a partial translation but I think we have to follow up on it."
"What does it say?" Steph asked.
Selena told them what she had gotten so far.
Elizabeth looked at her as if she'd been smoking something.
"That is the most bizarre thing I have ever heard you say. This inscription is about Atlantis?"
"It's possible."
"Why do you think that? It could be about the Minoans. They were surrounded by water."
"That's what Nick said. That would make sense except for the part about moving heavy
stones using an unknown force. Judging from the letter, the Russians are taking it seriously. That's why we have to pay attention. We need to look for that pillar."
Stephanie said, "What if this Yuri Sokolov isn't who he claims to be? The letter could be misdirection on the part of the Russians."
"Why send it to Selena?" Nick asked.
"It could be a trick to draw the team out."
"And I thought I was paranoid."
Steph played with gold bracelets on her left wrist. "You know they'd love to create trouble for us."
"Sure, but there are easier ways to do it."
Elizabeth said, "Steph, see what you can find out about Sokolov. Also the friend of the Czar mentioned in the letter. There might be a record of him."
"I'll get right on it."
"Selena, how long will it take you to translate the rest of that inscription in the photograph?"
"I don't know. I'll start working on it right away."
There goes lunch, Elizabeth thought.
"I guess I'll have to settle for that."
CHAPTER 4
General Alexsandr Volkov looked down from the window of his office on the top floor of FSB Headquarters in the old Lubyanka prison, contemplating the statue of Felix Dzerzhinsky dominating Lubyanka Square. Volkov's hands were clasped behind his back. His fingers moved with restless energy. The Director of the FSB was a broad block of a man, with hairy arms and the build of a wrestler. Behind his back he was called The Gorilla. No one ever called him that when he was within earshot.
Volkov's job as head of the Federal'naya sluzhba bezopasnosti Rossiyskoy Federatsii made him a powerful man in Russia. The old Committee of State Security, the KGB, had been broken up into separate organizations after the fall of the Soviet Union. FSB was in charge of internal state security and intelligence gathering. External security and foreign intelligence was the responsibility of the Sluzhba vneshney razvedki, SVR.
Volkov's world would have been perfect if foreign intelligence was under his control. Since it wasn't, he settled for doing everything he could to undermine SVR and its new director, Alexei Vysotsky. His ambition was to resurrect the KGB as it once was, with himself in command. The name would be different, of course. Whatever the name, the function would be the same. But it would require the blessing of the Federation president, Vladimir Orlov.
Orlov meant eagle in Russian; Volkov meant wolf. There was no doubt in Volkov's mind that one day the wolf would pull the eagle from the sky. In the meantime, he had to play the role of loyal officer and servant of the state.
A report lay on his desk about the interrogation of Yuri Sokolov. His agents had been thorough, if too enthusiastic. Better if the traitor had been brought back to Moscow for more extensive questioning, but the questioning had been too much for the old man. Even so, enough had been learned to justify further action.
Sokolov had talked about the pillar in the photograph he'd given to Volkov's informant. He'd babbled about the writing on it. He'd talked about Atlantis and a power that could lift stones in the air. Volkov didn't give a shit about Atlantis. All he wanted was more information about the artifact that controlled that mysterious power.
Sokolov had told Volkov's interrogators there was a map showing where the pillar had been photographed. He'd sent it with the picture to America.
The FSB was not supposed to intervene on foreign soil. That was the job of SVR. But like the American FBI, the FSB could legally make an exception when a Russian citizen was involved. Sokolov had been a Russian citizen. As he saw it, Volkov was within his mandate to pursue the issue, wherever it took him.
He turned away from the window, sat down at his desk and opened the folder with the report. Sokolov had revealed where he'd sent the picture.
It complicated things.
Selena Connor was part of the Project, red-flagged in the database of every Russian intelligence agency. That was where it got complicated. She wouldn't be easily intimidated into handing over the map and picture. He needed that map.
It might be possible to steal them without confronting her, Volkov thought. If not, I'll have to take extreme measures.
As long as the FSB didn't bring down the wrath of the Americans on the Kremlin, no one in Moscow would mourn the death of an American spy.
Volkov didn't know if the force described on the pillar existed, but if there was any chance it was real he had find it before the Americans did. With the map, he could find the pillar and that might tell him more. If he could discover the secret of the force and how it was controlled, he'd gain allies in the military and among the oligarchs. He'd gain favor with Orlov. It would put him in a better position to make his move against SVR and Vysotsky.
He pressed a button on his intercom.
"Get Major Yeltsin in here."
"Sir."
Five minutes later there was a knock on his door.
"Enter."
Major Borya Yeltsin wore a reasonably good dark suit, white shirt and black tie. Unlike SVR, officers in the FSB wore civilian dress rather than army uniform. Yeltsin was dressed in civilian clothes, but no one would mistake him for a civilian.
His hair was cropped close to his head and high on the sides. He had the kind of unsmiling eyes found in soldiers who have seen the red edge of war. Broad shoulders and chest showed that he worked out on a regular basis. Yeltsin stopped in front of Volkov's desk and snapped to attention.
"You sent for me, sir?"
"I have a mission for you. I want you to take a team to America and retrieve something for me."
"What is it you wish me to obtain?"
"A picture and a map. They were sent to a woman who lives in Washington. She is a member of one of their covert intelligence units. Try to recover the items without involving her in a direct way. If that is not possible, you are to take any action necessary to ensure the success of your mission."
Volkov handed a folder to Yeltsin, along with a copy of the photograph.
"I want you to bring back the original of this photograph and a map that accompanies it. The map will date to the late nineteenth or early twentieth century. It should be easy to identify. The address where everything was sent is in the folder, along with a picture of the woman and a summary of who she is. Do not underestimate her. She is part of a direct action team, highly trained."
"She's a woman. I can handle it."
"Don't let your balls get in the way, Major."
Yeltsin stiffened at the rebuke. "Sir."
"This mission requires discretion. It would be much better if you avoid any wet stuff but if it comes to that, make sure you are not apprehended. There must be no trace of our involvement. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Pick your team and let me know when you are ready to leave. Make it soon."
"I can leave later today."
"Excellent. Dismissed."
Yeltsin snapped his heels together and left the room.
As he walked down the hall he looked at the picture of Selena.
An attractive woman, he thought. It would be interesting to interrogate her.
He thought about how he would question her and began to whistle as he walked.
CHAPTER 5
"You need a break." Nick set a cup of black coffee in front of Selena. Steam rose from the surface. "You've been sitting in that chair for hours."
Selena's desk was littered with notes and references. She leaned back, stretching.
"Thanks." She picked up the coffee, blew on it and took a sip.
"Did you learn anything new?"
"The pillar was erected during the reign of King Menes, which makes it more than five thousand years old. What I've translated so far falls right in line with legends about Atlantis. Sometimes legends are all that's left when history has disappeared."
"How is the inscription like the legends?"
"It describes a city built on a plain with a mountain in the center. It has three concentric rings marked off by canals, with the ruler's palace
in the central ring. That fits with Plato's description."
"You really think this is about Atlantis." It wasn't a question.
"It's beginning to look that way."
"What did Plato say?"
"The first known mention of Atlantis comes in two of his dialogues, Timaeus and Critia. According to Plato, Athens is supposed to have defeated Atlantis in a great naval battle. There's no historical record of a battle like that ever taking place."
"Why write about it if it never happened?"
"His dialogues are mostly political allegory meant to glorify the Athenian way of life. There have always been people who think Atlantis was real. They argue Plato was using an historical example that the people of his time would have recognized. A historian named Crantor was a contemporary of Plato. He claimed to have interviewed Egyptian priests who showed him the history of Atlantis written down on pillars. The pillar in the photograph could be one of those."
"That's a pretty big stretch."
"It fits, doesn't it?"
"It still doesn't prove Atlantis was real."
"No, but what if it was? What if this inscription is referring to a source of power that could be re-discovered and used? It would benefit everyone."
"Or it could be turned into a weapon," Nick said. "That would be another reason for the Russians to go after Sokolov."
"The implications of this are endless," Selena said. "Take the pyramids, for example. Archaeologists still argue about how the Egyptians built them using those huge blocks of stone. Some of them weigh hundreds of tons and they're fitted together with perfection. How did they get them into place? If the inscription describes something real, it explains how it was done."
"I thought they dragged them behind slaves and built ramps as they went up. Like in the movies."
"Maybe for the lower levels, but there's a point where that can't be done anymore." Selena tapped her notes with her finger. "One of the theories is that the pyramid builders had something like what's described on this pillar and used it to to lift the stones through the air. Antigravity, if you like."
