“Coleopterist?” Ake repeated. And what the hell was atypical insect metamorphosis? And someone won an award for it?
“A beetle specialist.”
“I don’t really think this is worth bothering an internationally recognized coleopterist,” Ake said, trying to imagine a man who spent his entire professional life studying nothing but beetles. “I’m sure he’s very busy.”
Svirishna waved off his protests. “Not at all. This is right up Eli’s alley. He loves things like this, and the more offbeat, the better. I’ll give him a call. He just returned from somewhere in the Amazon, and if I know Eli, he’ll be looking for some new project to occupy his time. He’s at the University of Illinois at Champaign, about three hours from here.”
“I appreciate it,” Ake said. He couldn’t justify taking off in the middle of this crisis—could he? “I’ll talk to him by phone first before I drive up there. Then we can decide what to do.”
* * *
In an unknown location
“Who are you? What do you want?” Cora Allegan tried to keep her voice steady, but she was quickly losing that battle. She’d gone from shocked and terrified to exhausted, confused, and angry.
As the daughter of a US senator unbound by term limits, she’d been aware of the risks of being abducted—for ransom, for political gain, to make a statement—since she was sixteen. And being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company that designed and manufactured cutting-edge electronics, she was also aware of the same risks to herself from a corporate perspective.
Although she’d been frightened at first, the stark helplessness had eased into anger when she realized if her abductors had merely wanted to kill—or even hurt—her, that would have happened by now. Instead, she’d been drugged and transported to…somewhere.
“My name is Roman Aleksandrov,” said the man to whom she’d spoken.
Cora focused on him, trying to keep her mind clear and steady. She’d demanded the same information from every person she came in contact with since opening her eyes and finding herself in the custody of strangers, but this was the first person to respond.
Clearly, he was in control.
He was a handsome man, completely bald and by all evidence intentionally so. She guessed him to be in his late sixties—maybe close to seventy—but he was fit and his eyes were sharp and clear, yet filled with an unsettling lack of emotion. His fair skin was lined with more than an occasional wrinkle, but it didn’t sag even at his jaw. Unlike every other person she’d seen since her abduction, he didn’t wear the loose pants and tunic made from natural-looking linen. That alone should have been her first clue this man was someone different. He was dressed in dark brown linen trousers and an untucked, crisp white shirt whose open top buttons proved he didn’t lack for hair anywhere but on his head. Leather sandals graced elegant feet.
“Who are you working for?” she asked again, rubbing her raw, reddened wrists. They’d been duct-taped together in front of her for most of the time, but at the moment she was unbound and otherwise unfettered. She’d been left in this small room several hours ago and had been alone until he opened the door and walked in, unannounced. He sat down in a chair and looked at her as her gaze went from him to the door and back again.
She could have made a run for it, but Cora was too intelligent to think she’d get very far.
Although she’d examined the windowless room and listened carefully for any sounds that might indicate her location, she was unable to determine where she was being held. The only thing she knew was that it was hot and humid and there was an eerie lack of mechanical sounds beyond the walls.
“You are the CEO of Vision Screen Industries,” said Roman Aleksandrov. He spoke in precise tones that indicated English wasn’t his first language.
“Yes, and I’m the daughter of Senator Ronald Allegan. The US government doesn’t take kindly to having its citizens abducted, particularly ones attached to high-level, visible officials. I don’t know what you think you’ll gain by doing this, but you won’t succeed. The sooner you release me, the easier it’ll be for you.” She sat up straight, trying her best to appear confident and unafraid, despite the fact that she was still wearing the pink sweatpants and shelf-bra tank top she’d pulled on after sliding from Jerry’s arms and out of bed to answer the door. No real bra, no underthings. Not even a pair of shoes.
Roman’s face eased into a complacent smile. “I’m fully aware of how the US government treats its citizens—at every level of the political and financial spectrum. As well as its other resources. And you needn’t worry. I’ll be releasing you very soon.”
Cora’s heart began to thud. Those words, though spoken in a benign voice, nevertheless sounded ominous. “What do you want? A ransom? My father will pay it, but that doesn’t mean you’ll walk away with the money.”
“What I want,” Roman said, sitting back in his chair and steepling his hands, “cannot be bought.”
Before she could respond, he stood and continued to speak. “Your company manufactures OLED monitors. It’s grown exponentially in the last year, despite the high cost of those types of computer screens. They’re a new technology, and quite expensive to produce. Currently.”
Cora nodded. So this wasn’t about her father. She tried to keep her mind focused as Roman Aleksandrov walked idly about the space as if he were a professor giving a lecture.
“The growth is amazing, and it’s partly been due to the unprecedented trade-in program Vision Screen Industries has offered to new direct customers. Your organization has accepted hundreds of thousands of CRT and LCD monitors in exchange for deeply discounted prices on the new, cutting-edge monitors. But all of those old screens…hundreds of thousands of them, taken in by your corporation on a…what did you call it? The Recycle-Win-Buy program?”
She couldn’t keep her brows from drawing together in utter confusion. “What is this about?” she demanded, her heart beginning to pound. “What does kidnapping me have to do with a trade-in program?”
“You, the CEO, personally put the plan together as a way to radically increase the sales and value of your company in a short time. Perhaps you mean to inflate the stock price and then sell, or perhaps you simply desire to grab market share.”
“As would any other executive of a for-profit organization,” she retorted. “I have a duty to my stockholders. Do you have some sort of religious or cultural problem with capitalism? Is that what this is about?” Her insides churned with renewed concern. If he was a radical from an anti-Western, anti-capitalist terrorist group, she could be in more danger than she’d anticipated.
Roman Aleksandrov steepled his fingers together again and gave her another cool, humorless smile. “Not at all. I have no problem with capitalism or making profits. I do it on a regular basis, in fact. Quite satisfactorily. However,” he said, his face turning hard, “when the CEO of an organization takes in hundreds of thousands of cathode ray monitors, as well as LEDs and other hardware under the guise of recycling them…and then pays for them to be secretly tossed into landfills—”
“What are you talking about?” Cora replied. Now her body was flushing with heat and her hands were shaking. Was he a greenie from one of those damned environmental groups? How had they found out? She’d been so careful. So careful that only two other people knew the truth. And neither of them would have betrayed her. Even the EPA, who’d caught VSI dumping waste, didn’t know about the monitors.
“All of that lead. All of that cadmium and mercury and hexavalent chromium, slipping into the ground. Polluting the water. Seeping into our land and poisoning our earth and her resources. All the while your father was in Washington, promoting his own environmental bills and holding up your corporation as an example of one doing it correctly. What did he call it? ‘A baby-sized carbon footprint for a giant of a company’?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. “That’s an absurd accusation.”
“You know it isn’t. You know how many places
in the world you’ve had those filthy things shoved into the helpless skin and organs of Gaia.”
“Gaia?”
“Gaia. The earth. Our earth.” He stood in front of her, and she was overcome with the desire to shove violently at him, push him away and run from the room and fight her way out of here. He smiled, as if reading her mind. “Our beloved, irreplaceable earth. Gaia is in our care, and you’ve caused her great hardship.”
“Burying some monitors is nothing in the grand scheme of things,” she said. “Look at the Gulf Oil Spill, and all of the other—”
“I’m fully aware of the other pollutants in the world, and what the Out-Worlders have done and continue to do to our beautiful Gaia. They too will pay—and, in fact, some of them already have done so. And a good many more of them will do so…in only a few days’ time.” He smiled benignly. “But today is your day for recompense, Ms. Cora Allegan. After inflicting such pain and destruction on our helpless earth, it’s your time to experience the same.”
“What are you talking about? I’m the CEO of a company! I didn’t put those things in the ground. But someone obviously screwed up. I’ll pay the fines,” she added quickly. “The EPA will slap more fines on the company and we’ll pay them and I’ll fix the recycling program, and we’ll be square. You can’t hold me responsible for what my company did—for an error the corporation made.”
The man gave a short laugh. “You said it yourself. You are the CEO. The company is under your management and guidance. You and a select few others are going to be made into…what do you call them? Poster childs—poster children? Poster children for this kind of willful destruction of our earth.”
Cora was aware of a definite numbness filtering over her body, up through her limbs and through her chest. “I’ll pay the fines, I’ll even pay to have everything excavated, brought back—”
“I said earlier that what I want cannot be bought,” he replied flatly. His voice became low and tight, laced with fury. “What I want is my earth back, unravaged and unraped by your selfish actions. I want the groundwater empty of the poisons. The fish and the birds and animals who died from the lead and mercury your actions have or will inflict on them—I want them healthy and alive. I want the earth, the dirt, the stones and plants that draw from the ground—I want them pure and clean. But you cannot give me that, Cora Allegan. It’s too late. There’s no turning back the clock.”
“But—I don’t understand,” she said. An ugly chill had settled over her, as if she’d been submerged in an icy lake during the winter. “What do you want?”
“I want you to experience what Gaia has experienced at your hands. Just as she was helpless against the pain and poison you inflicted upon her, so will you experience being helpless in her presence. So will you attempt to thrive and survive when faced with her strength and power, unarmed and unprotected against whatever she chooses to inflict upon you.”
Cora was shaking her head, utterly confused and at the same time terrified by the cold, steady words. He must be crazy. Yet he sounded much too sane…and that was what frightened her the most.
“What exactly are you talking about?” she asked.
“I told you I would release you. I will indeed. You’ll be released into the arms of Gaia. If you survive, so be it. If you do not, I consider it nothing more than our earth exacting her revenge upon you.”
FOURTEEN
Ann Arbor
Marina slipped from bed, casting a regretful look at Gabe’s messy dark hair and a broad, tanned shoulder, half covered by a tangle of sheets. She fairly purred at the memory of last night’s activity. I definitely needed that.
Hell, she could use even more of that particular form of exercise and relaxation, but it was morning, and Boris needed to go out…and she had other pressing matters to attend to before she and Gabe left. Hopefully before he awoke.
Last night when Helen Darrow insisted she come back to Chicago with them in order to assist in the investigation, Marina agreed—but only under her terms. Which first included a good night’s sleep in her own bed. Having Gabe in it as well had just been icing on the cake. Helen clearly hadn’t cared for the idea, and Marina wasn’t certain whether it was because the special agent didn’t like to be derailed from her plans, or because Gabe was staying with Marina. There was some sort of history between him and Helen.
Marina didn’t know the details—only that they’d had something going on eight years ago, before Helen was transferred from Washington, DC to Chicago. Though she’d witnessed Gabe and Helen being nothing but professional and easy with each other, Marina sensed there might still be some unfinished business between them. The thought didn’t particularly bother her anyway; much as she enjoyed Gabe MacNeil, on many levels, she had no claim on him—nor did he on her.
Helen’s sensitivities aside, it was logical for Gabe to remain in Ann Arbor to ensure Marina’s safety before escorting her to Chicago. And although there had been obvious benefits to that, it gave Marina very little time and privacy to see to the other issue on her mind.
She let Boris out and stood on the damp lawn in bare feet while he did his business. Marina closed her eyes, feeling the cool, smooth prickle of grass amid her toes. The morning smelled fresh and damp, with a little bit of summer still clinging to the air. Curling her toes into the soil, feeling the dirt and plants, she imagined herself taking root…becoming grounded, melding into the earth. Becoming part of it. Breathing with her.
It was as if Marina could feel the heartbeat of the great organism called earth—or, as her grandfather thought of it, Gaia—beneath her bare soles. The energy, the pulse of its life, thrummed through her as she drew in a deep breath of warm morning air, smelled the fresh grass, the scent of crushed leaves, the aroma of oak bark—soon to turn chill as autumn swept in.
Marina understood this part, at least, of her Skaladeska heritage. This melding with the earth, the appreciation and sense of oneness with it. Perhaps that was why she was attracted to caves, why she felt at home traveling into the bowels of the planet, deep into the womb of the mother.
Boris dropped the tennis ball on her bare foot, bringing her back from a moment of meditation. She scooped it up and fired it across the small yard and into her neighbor’s lot so Boris would have a good distance to travel.
Marina’s backyard was shady, filled with several large trees—trees that had been instrumental in her escape from an attempted abduction when a man named Dannen Fridkov tried to bring her forcibly to the Skaladeskas just after she met Gabe. But since that incident and the attacks in Detroit had been aborted, the last five years had been quiet and uneventful…at least, relatively speaking. Being a caver with SAR training meant life was never quiet and uneventful.
Boris chased his tennis ball while Marina poked around the outside of her office window, looking for signs of Varden’s presence. A few drips of blood on shriveled tulip leaves she hadn’t cut away and a crushed begonia confirmed he’d come or gone or both via the entry, but there were no handy receipts or other clues that might have given further information.
She was about to call Boris to go in when the back door opened and Gabe came out. He was wearing a pair of loose shorts and nothing else, and he looked delicious. Smiling lazily at him from across the lawn, Marina took a moment to admire the sleek musculature of his shoulders and torso.
“Good morning.” Gabe appeared just as rested and complacent as she felt. He bent to scoop up the tennis ball Boris had just returned, and threw it even further than Marina had done. His eyes turned serious and his tone businesslike when he turned to her. “Is he coming with us, or did you find someone to take him?”
A gentle nudge, meant to get her on the road. But Marina had one thing to do first, and she wasn’t leaving until she did it. “I have to make that phone call, but I’m pretty sure my normal dog sitter will take him. Why don’t you shower and I’ll take care of that and pack up?”
“You don’t want to join me?” His eyes crinkled at the corners as his li
ds drooped in invitation.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” she replied, seriously considering it. She could easily go another round. After all, she’d had a long, dry spell. And he had pretty amazing shoulders…among other attributes.
Gabe looked over at Boris, then sighed. “Much as I’d like to…it’s probably better for us to get on the road. Helen texted and wanted to know our ETA. As one would imagine, the senator’s on her ass to find his daughter—and she doesn’t have much to tell him.”
“I’m not sure what she thinks I can do.” Marina picked up the tennis ball and gave Boris the command to precede her into the house. “But I’ll do what I can.”
When the CIA first approached her about the Skaladeskas after her father’s disappearance, she’d initially rejected their request for assistance. But after what happened afterward, she no longer had that luxury—nor, in truth, the desire to decline—and she’d ended up working with the FBI as well, via Helen. She’d continue to do so, as long as she felt as if she had something to contribute.
As soon as Gabe went upstairs to shower, Marina slipped into the office. She didn’t have much time, but hers was an older house. She’d hear the water turn off and know when he was done. He generally took his time, and would probably shave, so she would have a good twenty minutes. For just a moment, she was tempted to join him…but curiosity won out. This would be her only chance to look at the package for at least a day or two, if she was stuck in Chicago.
A niggle of guilt bothered her about keeping the packet secret from Gabe, but based on the events of yesterday, she didn’t think there was any need to tell him about it. He already knew the Skaladeskas had been in touch with her through Varden. Telling him about the package would open another Pandora’s box, and she was too much of a scholar to take the risk of losing what could be a huge find.
She sent a couple quick texts, then turned to her laptop. She hesitated only a moment when she opened it, but as soon as the computer woke up, she closed Skype. She’d deal with that later.
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