‘No,’ Koontz said, ‘in two more months we’re eligible to leave here. There’s no guarantee of anything. We might be stuck here for the rest of the year. Besides, there are a million other assignments that they could give us that don’t involve fieldwork. Given their take on things, they might send us back to the academy to teach the cadets how not to do surveillance.’
Callahan couldn’t bear the thought. ‘They wouldn’t do that … would they?’
‘I doubt it. They hate us a lot more than that.’
Callahan groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. His day was just starting, and the stress was already taking root in his shoulders. If he wasn’t careful, he would be incapacitated by a migraine before lunch.
‘Two more months,’ he mumbled again. ‘Just two more months.’
Koontz laughed as he tossed his jacket onto the floor in the corner of the room. Unlike his partner, he didn’t mind their current assignment. The Bureau’s ‘punishment’ allowed him to watch television for several hours a day, only now he was getting paid for it. ‘Speaking of our superiors, I shared an elevator with the bald, fat one this morning.’
‘You mean the Assistant Director in Charge?’
‘Yeah, that’s the prick. Anyway, he said he was so impressed with our recent reports that he was giving us an extra special case to work on today, one with – and I quote: “international significance”.’
Callahan hoped for the best. ‘Really?’
Koontz nodded. ‘Unfortunately, he was laughing when he said it, so you should probably temper your enthusiasm a little bit. On the bright side, at least he’s talking to me again. That has to mean something.’
‘Yeah, it means he doesn’t know that you call him “a bald, fat prick” behind his back.’
‘That’s nothing. You should hear what I say about you when you’re not around. It’s a lot worse than that.’
‘I can only imagine,’ Callahan said with a smile. ‘So, the suspense is killing me. What are we working on today? The Nazis invading Poland? Melting glaciers in the Arctic? Or is it something closer to home?’
‘Nope. Today’s assignment is the bombing in Alexandria.’
‘Egypt? You mean the incident from four months ago?’
‘Yep. That’s the one.’
Callahan cursed under his breath. All things considered, he would rather watch videos on global warming than media coverage of a terrorist attack. As someone who had survived 9/11, he certainly didn’t want to relive that nightmare by watching footage of a bombing that was far from the Bureau’s jurisdiction. Even if they found something in the video footage, they couldn’t take action. And it was an old bombing. Stale, as far as investigations went. Much of the damage had already been rebuilt. He’d seen a story about it in the Times.
‘You’ve got to be joking! They already know what happened over there. The block was blown to hell with Semtex. What else do they expect us to tell them?’
Koontz shrugged. ‘You’re preaching to the choir. It’s not like we can do anything about it anyway. If the CIA wants to know something about the bombing, let their trolls figure it out. Just because we’re the ones with Investigation in our name doesn’t mean we should do all the research.’
Despite their situation, Callahan laughed. He had been in the Bureau for over twenty years and had never heard that line. He’d be sure to use it the next time he was stonewalled by someone at the Agency – which happened way more often than it should. ‘Let’s be honest: it’s not like anyone actually reads our reports anyway.’
Koontz nodded. ‘I know I don’t.’
8
The Travels of Marco Polo.
McNutt smiled when he heard the title. ‘Marco Polo had a treasure?’
Maggie nodded. ‘Supposedly, yes.’
He whistled softly. ‘Holy hell, that has to be huge! He invented polo and that game where people call out his name.’
Garcia stared at him. ‘Actually, he did neither.’
‘Really? What about Polo cologne?’
‘Nope.’
‘Are you positive? Double-check that on your computer.’
‘I don’t have to. Marco Polo died in 1324. Polo cologne came out in the 1970s.’
‘Exactly. So they owe him, like, six hundred years of royalties!’
Sarah grinned. This was the McNutt she remembered from their previous missions, not the polite ass-kisser from upstairs. ‘It’s about freakin’ time. Where have you been?’
McNutt glanced at her. ‘When did I leave?’
‘Anyway,’ said Papineau, who rolled his eyes at McNutt’s antics, ‘the book is a good place to start, but it is merely an introduction to the subject matter. On his deathbed, Polo himself said that he had only revealed half the story.’
‘Let me guess,’ Cobb said. ‘Our job is to figure out the other half.’
Papineau nodded. ‘Don’t worry, Jack. I have something to help your cause.’
Without saying another word, Papineau strolled past the railing that separated the room into two and sat at the head of the computer table. The others got the hint and followed his lead. Within seconds they had taken their normal seats around the hi-tech device.
Still worried about fitting in, Maggie stared at the lone empty chair – the one where Jasmine used to sit – but opted to remain standing off to the side out of respect.
That is, until Sarah spoke up.
‘What’s wrong? Not used to sitting in chairs? You can sit on the floor if you’d like.’
‘Actually,’ Maggie said, ‘I’m Chinese, not Japanese. We’re big fans of chairs. In fact, we probably built most of the furniture in this house.’
McNutt laughed. ‘You’re probably right!’
Sarah pointed at the chair. ‘Then what are you waiting for?’
Maggie nodded and took her seat.
Papineau tapped a few keys on his virtual keyboard. ‘Hector, I’ve just sent you the name of a file on our server. Please project it on the wall behind me.’
Garcia did what he was told, and the video screen came to life. But unlike the large maps of Eastern Europe and Ancient Egypt that the team had studied in previous briefings, the only thing that appeared on the screen was the name of a single file: UA11273_MP.
Cobb recognized the UA prefix as belonging to the Ulster Archives, a private facility in Küsendorf, Switzerland, that had aided their efforts in the past. He rightly assumed the MP was for Marco Polo, but he wasn’t quite sure about the numbers.
Garcia clicked on the file, and the first page appeared on the screen. It was a scanned copy of a worn and yellowed document, with cramped writing in a foreign language that the team struggled to translate. That is, everyone except Maggie.
She gasped as soon as she saw it. ‘Wait. Is that …?’
Papineau smiled but did not reply.
Sarah showed her frustration. ‘What are we looking at? Polo’s book?’
‘I don’t understand,’ McNutt said. ‘I know we have his book in the library upstairs. I’ve seen it. Why don’t we just look through that one? It’s typed and in English.’
Maggie shook her head. ‘That one is most likely a compilation of over fifty manuscripts, each edited by different publishers and editors over the centuries, and based on multitudes of sources, notes, and ideas.’ She stared at the image on the screen. ‘What we’re looking at is something different. This appears to be penned by Rustichello da Pisa himself: the man who wrote the original version of the book.’
‘The prison mate?’ Cobb asked.
Maggie nodded as she struggled to translate the document on a notepad.
Sarah opted to fill the silence. ‘I have to admit I’m kind of impressed. Who knew that Josh had been in the library – let alone looked at the books?’
‘Hey, I read. Not the so-called “classics” and literary novels. That stuff is crap. I was looking for the latest Kuzneski.’
Sarah stared at him. ‘Who the hell is that?’
‘Some Pola
ck. Medium talent. Anyway, given our adventures over the past year, I’ve taken an interest in history. And his books are easier to read than the encyclopedia.’
‘It’s better than nothing,’ Cobb said, although he knew McNutt was reading more than just thrillers. He had tasked the sniper with researching several historical eras and had asked him to write reports on a number of lost treasures. Cobb had sensed there would be more missions, and he wanted to familiarize himself with what was out there. To that end, Garcia had been told to study various legends and stories about South America while Sarah had been assigned Europe. Cobb had figured they would eventually obtain a new historian, but he wanted each member of the group to be well rounded.
‘So,’ Cobb said as he focused on Papineau, ‘how did we get this manuscript from the Ulster Archives? And what does it tell us about the treasure?’
‘Actually, Jack, I was the one who gave it to the Archives for authentication and preservation, not the other way around. As for your second question, I was just getting to that.’
Papineau double-tapped the table’s hi-tech surface and a copy of the document on the main screen appeared under the glass. Then, by pushing his hand toward the team members in turn, he digitally slid the documents to their individual workstations. Now each of them could flip through the document at their own pace.
‘As Maggie pointed out, this document seems to have been written by Rustichello da Pisa. Though he only had it for a few days, Petr Ulster is reasonably certain it is authentic. The document is written in a mixture of Italian dialects, along with Old French and Latin. Curiously, it also contains some words and phrases in Asian languages, which is what convinced Petr of the manuscript’s authenticity. That and carbon dating.’
Cobb knew that Ulster wasn’t just the head of the archives; he was also its most revered scholar. Cobb trusted his opinion implicitly. ‘So what does it say?’
‘We can’t answer that yet,’ Papineau admitted. ‘Maggie will need to spend some time deciphering it.’
‘And once she does?’
Papineau smiled. ‘Your mission is to locate and retrieve Marco Polo’s treasure.’
‘If it exists,’ McNutt said.
‘Yes.’
‘And in exchange?’ Cobb asked.
‘Our standard arrangement. Five million dollars each.’
‘You still need to pay us for the second mission,’ Sarah complained. ‘I don’t start on this one until you pay up for the last one.’
‘Me, too,’ Garcia said.
McNutt looked to Cobb for his opinion on the matter, but Cobb just sat there, silently watching Papineau.
The Frenchman put on a show of considering the request, but Cobb could tell he had already anticipated the complaint and planned to acquiesce. ‘Very well. Those of you who participated in the last mission will each be paid for it before you leave for Asia, or Europe, or wherever the trail leads. But you will need to begin researching now. Agreed?’
‘Yep,’ Sarah said.
Garcia and McNutt both nodded. Maggie remained quiet.
All eyes turned to Cobb.
He looked at Papineau for a long moment, and at first the Frenchman gazed back impassively. But then his resolve began to crack as he realized what was about to happen.
‘Sorry,’ Cobb said. ‘No deal.’
9
McNutt twisted his finger in his ear with a dramatic flourish. ‘I think I misheard you, chief. Did you just say “no” to five million dollars?’
Cobb continued to stare at Papineau. After a tense moment of silence, he finally spoke. ‘That is correct, Josh. I said no.’
Papineau looked disappointed, but not really shocked. ‘May I ask why?’
‘Why?’ he said in a mocking tone. ‘I get the distinct feeling that you’re holding back pertinent information from us again because it doesn’t suit your agenda. That didn’t work out so well for Jasmine the last time, did it? Yet here you are, asking me to lead this team into the field on another adventure, and you’re still keeping secrets.’
‘Jack—’
‘Truth be told, it’s my fault for letting it get this far. You coerced Hector into spying on us during the first mission, yet I let the incident slide. I should’ve quit then and there, and the fact that I didn’t has been bugging me ever since.’
‘Come on, Jack. That isn’t fair, and you know it.’
‘Do I? I’m not so sure.’
Although it wasn’t Cobb’s intent to embarrass Garcia, the computer genius hung his head in shame. Upon being hired, Garcia had been ordered by Papineau to secretly keep tabs on the team – a task that he had performed without question until Cobb had discovered his efforts and put a stop to them. During the team’s initial bonding, Garcia had felt like an outsider, the geek trying to fit in at the cool kids’ table. But the group’s dynamic had changed significantly since then. Garcia was now fully accepted by the team, which was why he felt so guilty about his transgression on the first adventure.
Cobb went on. ‘You’ve also interfered with my command of the team during both missions. This isn’t a game. It’s life or death in the field. I told you from day one that I needed absolute authority once we left this building, and you agreed to stay out of my way. Unfortunately, you’ve been unwilling to uphold your end of the bargain, so it’s time for me to walk.’
‘Don’t be hasty, Jack. I know we’ve had some rough patches during the past year, but it’s nothing we can’t overcome.’
‘Says who? The wealthy guy in the linen suit who sips champagne on his yacht? Spend some time in the trenches with a gun in your hand, and then you’ll understand: minor issues for you are a major problem for us.’
McNutt, Garcia, and Sarah nodded in support.
Despite Cobb’s posturing, Papineau sensed that the team leader would eventually come around. The Frenchman knew there would be a condition or two – or possibly several – tied to his return, but he also realized that if Cobb had intended to quit, he could have done so by phone. ‘Come on, Jack. There must be something I can do to convince you to stay.’
Cobb’s eyes never left Papineau. He didn’t blink, or flinch, or look away. He just continued to stare for several seconds.
The others, realizing this was a pivotal moment for the team, sat transfixed.
Eventually, Papineau broke the silence.
‘Enough of this foolishness. Tell me what you want.’
‘You don’t say another word as leader once we leave this facility. I will be in charge from the moment we pass the front gate until the moment we find the treasure. You will finance everything we ask for, and you’ll be happy to do it. In addition, you’ll pay everyone for the Egypt mission now – not before we leave. And you’ll also pay us the first half of the five million for the Polo job whether we succeed or fail. The money can be placed in trust, per our original agreement, but it gets transferred before we risk our lives in the field.’
‘Oh, is that all?’ Papineau asked, his face growing red in anger.
‘Actually, no. There’s one more condition; and it’s non-negotiable. If any of us die during the mission, our heirs receive a bonus of ten million dollars.’
‘You’ve changed, Jack. And not for the better.’
Cobb stood slowly. His demeanor was calm. He knew he had the upper hand. ‘Josh is one of the finest snipers in the world, and you know it.’
All eyes turned to McNutt.
‘What did I do?’ he asked, confused.
Cobb pointed to the others, one by one. ‘Sarah is the best infiltration and extraction expert out there, and Hector is one of the finest hackers on the planet. And though I just met her, I’ll bet Maggie is incredibly gifted, too, or you wouldn’t have hired her.’
Cobb turned back to look at Papineau.
‘You’ve spared no expense in obtaining the best specialists for this squad. And let’s be honest: we work pretty well as a team. So let’s not pretend, Jean-Marc. If you got the best of the best for each of their rol
es, then what does that make me?’
Papineau grimaced. He knew he had been beaten.
‘I’ll give you a hint. The word you’re looking for isn’t “replaceable.”’
Cobb paused briefly before he continued. ‘I know time is precious and this is a lot to consider, so I’m going to do you a favor. While you stew over my demands and slowly come to the realization that you’ll meet them – all of them – I’m going to start prepping my team. Unless I hear otherwise before midnight tonight, I’m going to assume that we’re good to go.’
Papineau grunted but said nothing.
‘Excellent,’ Cobb said as he shifted his focus to Garcia. ‘Hector, we’re going to need something from you before any of us can get started.’
Garcia sat up straight in his chair. ‘Name it.’
‘Get your hands on a map of Polo’s travels. Then compile a list for every team member of every place he supposedly visited. I’m talking about all the locations in the commonly accepted versions of the original book, not the new manuscript.’
Garcia nodded and started tapping at the glass of the tabletop.
‘Josh,’ Cobb said, ‘I’m hoping we’ll only need to visit a few places on that list, but until we know which ones, I want you to figure out the logistics for every single site.’
‘Damn, chief. That’s a lot of equipment,’ McNutt said.
‘Someone died on our last mission. No one dies on this one.’
‘Got it, chief. Lasers and wing suits for everyone.’
Cobb ignored the comment and faced Maggie. ‘How are your translation skills?’
‘Depends on the language,’ she admitted. ‘The Rustichello manuscript is written primarily in Latin, Old French, and Venetian – a Romance language spoken in the Veneto region of Italy. It’s similar to Italian, but different. I also noticed a few phrases in Ottoman Turkish, Mongolian, and Arabic. I can handle most of those, but I might need some help from time to time.’
Cobb paused in thought before he glanced at Garcia. ‘Hector, do we still have access to the language software from the Ulster Archives?’
The Prisoner's Gold (The Hunters 3) Page 5
