by Gayle Lynds
“Pressure.” Serin grabbed his own throat, his thumbs pushed deep, then quickly released them. “We learn useful things in the secret service.”
Judd nodded. “Thanks for your help. You aren’t armed, so who shot the other men?”
“Maybe that one.” He gestured at Preston. “I saw no one else. I know those guys. They could have waited until he had no choice and demanded more money—or something else he could not or would not provide.” He shrugged, then scrutinized them. “You are in trouble, yes? I think they were planning to kill you. But you look like such nice tourists.”
Judd only glanced at him. “Come on, Eva.”
“I believe I heard someone mention Athens,” Serin continued. “You wish to go? I know a boat rental place where few questions are asked. I can take you in the boat to a small airport south of here where the owner and I are friendly. Perhaps it would be good for you to slip out of Istanbul before this one”—he pointed at Preston lying hogtied on the stone floor—“gets free, or someone else is sent to take his place. I am a poor man now. You could pay me well. Perhaps you are glad for the assistance of someone who knows the terrain.”
Worrying how Preston had found them again, Eva looked at Judd. Her inclination was to accept the offer.
Judd made a decision. “You won’t mind if I check you for weapons.”
Serin threw up his arms, the sleeves of his caftan billowing down past his elbows. “I insist.”
Judd patted him from his neck to the soles of his feet, paying particular attention to his armpits, lower back, thighs, calves, and ankles.
Finally Judd said, “All right. Let’s go.”
Serin rushed ahead, trying doorknobs until he located a closet. Judd found rags inside. Stuffing one into Preston’s mouth and tying another around it, he left the unconscious man bound tightly in his ropes.
“You didn’t kill Preston,” Eva whispered as they hurried after Serin.
“I thought about it. But he’s unarmed, apparently doesn’t know where The Book of Spies is in Athens, and anyway, he’s out of commission long enough for us to get away.” He hesitated, then admitted, “And I have enough blood on my hands.”
42
THE APRIL daylight was fading, the lavender colors of sunset spreading softly across the indigo-blue Sea of Marmara. In the vast Istanbul marina where Salih Serin had taken Judd and Eva, waves lapped boat hulls and ropes rattled against masts.
Judd took up a position fifty feet away from Eva and Serin, observing as Serin negotiated in Turkish with a stooped youth for the boat they had selected—a sleek Chris-Craft yacht powerful enough to make the journey easily and outrun other small vessels.
Judd was on his mobile with Tucker. It was about eleven A.M. in Washington, six P.M. in Istanbul. He described the events in the Grand Bazaar. “Preston found us again.”
“Dammit. What in hell is going on? There’s no way anyone could’ve gotten the intel on my end . . .” There was a pause. Tucker sounded worried as he continued, “I’ll think about it. Go on. What else did you learn?”
Judd repeated the information in Preston’s notebook. “See if you can track down who Robin Miller is. I’m wondering whether she might be the blond woman Eva saw with Sherback in London. Remember, The Book of Spies might’ve been in the backpack he left with her.”
“NSA is monitoring the two numbers you got off Sherback’s phone. I’ll let you know instantly if we get a hit.”
“Good. Eva’s going to translate the rest of the message on the leather strip as soon as we’re alone. Supposedly it says exactly where the library’s location is hidden inside The Book of Spies.”
“Langley had that book in storage three years.” Tucker sighed with frustration. “I take it you’re leaving for Athens?”
“Immediately. I’m not going to tell you exactly how we’re planning to get there.”
He watched as Serin jabbed a thumb toward the yacht, the darkening sky, and the boat merchant, at last extending both palms up in a gesture of attempting to be reasonable. Serin had told the boat merchant he was going to insist they receive a large discount, since so few people wanted to rent at night. His animated face showed deep enjoyment in the haggling.
“A damn good idea,” Tucker said. “Stay safe.”
The Sea of Marmara
WITH SERIN at the helm, the yacht cruised through the night, heading southwest across the Sea of Marmara. A wind had arisen out of the north through the Bosporus Strait, whipping the sea and making for a bumpy ride. They had progressed some ten miles, eaten fish sandwiches bought in the marina, and adjusted to the boat’s rough rhythms.
Judd was confident they had not been followed to the Istanbul marina, but still he found himself peering back to where the city’s lights spread across the horizon. He studied the traffic—fishing boats, cargo ships, and behemoth oil tankers and container ships, all blinking with lights. The great inland sea was a busy thoroughfare linking the Black Sea in the north to the Aegean and Mediterranean seas on the south through the Dardanelles Strait. None of the other boats seemed to be pacing them.
“Where exactly are we heading?” Eva raised her voice to be heard over the wind, sea, and motors.
Despite a bench seat directly behind them, Serin stood at the wheel, Eva beside him, where he had invited her. A low windshield partially protected them. Judd stood behind the bench seat, gripping the back with both hands. Eva’s midnight-blue jacket was buttoned up to her chin, and tendrils of her long black hair had fallen out of the knot at the nape of her neck. Windblown and rosy-cheeked, she looked quietly happy. As she turned to listen to Serin, Judd was struck by how much he liked her, liked being with her. Then he remembered the role his father had probably played in her imprisonment for manslaughter. He gazed away.
“South of a big city called Tekirdağ,” Serin yelled, “and north of a little village called Barbados. We are going to the Thrace part of Turkey, on the Europe side of course.”
Serin held the wheel confidently in his brown hands. He was a little shorter than Judd, but broader, with thick muscles. He appeared nonchalant and self-satisfied. At the same time, there were signs of his past—the athletic way he moved on the boat and the flashes of intense acuity in his gaze. If he had not already said he had been a member of the national government’s tough MIT, Judd would have suspected some sort of similar background.
“An old comrade of mine has a private airstrip,” Serin was continuing. “We will be there in about three hours.”
Judd saw they were doing a good thirty-plus knots despite the waves. Speedy, with two powerful inboard engines, the Chris-Craft was a stunner. Belowdecks were fully appointed staterooms, a salon, and a galley.
“You’re not taking us through the Dardanelles?” Eva asked. “We’d pass the ruins of Troy if you did, and we’d be much closer to Athens.”
“Too dangerous. The strait is narrow and crowded. It twists itself this way and that. Besides, the current is unusually swift.”
“What do you do with yourself when you’re not ferrying people in rented boats?” Judd asked.
“Ah, that is a long story. To make it short, I am what you call a jack-of-all-trades. I am hired to guide, to guard, and to deliver important items. I have a reputation, you see. I am trustworthy. And you two are very important items and now know I am trustworthy also. What about you, Mr. Ryder? You have not told me anything.”
“We’re tourists, just as you thought.”
“You are trying to fool an old dog, but I know all the tricky tricks. I am curious. What is wrong with curiosity, I ask you?” His loud voice sounded hurt. “At least explain this thing called The Book of Spies. Entertain me while I work so hard.”
Eva laughed. “It’s an illuminated manuscript from the sixteenth century. A one-of-a-kind book and very valuable. It’s been lost. We’re trying to track it down.” She glanced back at Judd. “I’m getting tired of shouting.”
“So this book is in Athens, and you wish to find it. It is part of
some big business deal?” the Turk coaxed.
“Why would you think we’re involved in a business deal?” Judd asked.
“I had hopes it would make you much money, and then you would come back to Istanbul and hire me again. Is it for this book your lives are in danger?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” It seemed like innocuous enough information, Judd decided.
Serin glanced over his shoulder at him, frowning. And as he turned back, he wiped his face. The wheel spun out of his other hand. Serin grabbed the steering again with both hands—too late. The craft lurched from side to side, the waves pounding, the wind screeching. Banging down hard in the trough of one wave, the yacht lifted sharply on the crest of the next. Water drenched them.
Eva reeled as Serin fought to control the yacht, but it slammed and torqued violently. One of her hands slipped from the safety handle on the console. The boat heaved to the starboard, tossing all of them. But Eva’s foot slid, and she fell to her knees.
Instantly Judd snatched her arm, locking his other hand on to the back of the bench seat, trying not to lose his balance, too.
As the boat continued to rotate back and forth, up and down, the wet steering wheel whirled through Serin’s grasp.
The boat pitched hard again, banging and yawing. Judd lost his grip. His hand slid uncontrollably across the moist seat back, and he stumbled. Eva fell halfway over the boat’s side, pulling him with her because he would not let her go. One more lurch, and both would be hurled into the black churning water.
His heart thundering, Judd looked back, searching for a way to save them. Instead he saw something else: Serin was not panicked, not even worried as he clinically noted their life-threatening situation. The icy intelligence in his gaze told Judd he could easily let them fall overboard and would abandon them. Was that what he had planned all along?
“You bastard!” Judd yelled. “Why are you doing this!”
Serin blinked. He looked off into the distance, then back at them. He seemed to decide something. Giving a small nod, he fitted his hands into the spokes of the steering wheel. His caftan sleeves fell back, showing the cording muscles. Shoulders hunching, he poured strength into dominating the yacht.
Slowly the boat’s heaving eased. Judd yanked Eva back onboard and pulled her to his chest. Chilled and furious, he wrapped his arms around her. She resisted only a moment, then held on for dear life. He kissed her hair. She burrowed deeper. Then he slid his hand inside his jacket and yanked out his Beretta.
He released her and rolled free, aiming the pistol up at Serin.
43
EVA WAS watching, stunned. “Judd, stop!” Black hair blowing around her face, she scrambled toward Serin.
“No, Eva. Come here!” Judd ordered as he sat on the seat behind Serin and slid to the side where he had a fuller view of the man’s profile and a safer distance. He steadily pointed his Beretta at him.
Her eyes wide, Eva grasped the arm of the seat and pulled herself around the rocking yacht.
“What did I miss?” She fell in beside him.
Serin’s fez was gone, and his almond-colored features had shifted, revealing a depth of something Judd could not quite name but felt in himself and did not like. Something predatory. Serin’s facial skin seemed different, too, and Judd had a sudden insight the man was in disguise. A hell of a good disguise, with skin dye and some of the new manmade materials that, when smoothed on skin and allowed to dry, puckered the surface and formed deep crevices. The large nose could be fake, too.
“This has been what we in intelligence call a movie,” Judd explained to Eva grimly. “It’s a setup that looks and feels completely real.” He gestured with his pistol at Serin. “Tell her,” he ordered.
There was no hesitation. “I have rules,” Serin said over the noise of the engines and wind. “They are inviolate. My employer agreed to all of them. One of them is I do wet work only on people who shouldn’t be breathing, and I’m the one who makes the decision. My employer was convincing about both of you, so I agreed to the job. He ordered Preston to create a movie in which you’d believe I’d be useful to help you get away. So when Preston realized you were in Yakimovich’s storage room, he eliminated two of his people and called me in.” He hesitated.
“Go on,” Judd said.
“At that point I took over. But when you arrived I began to wonder. The people I wipe aren’t solicitous of an old man. They don’t inquire about his well-being. You were prepared to scrub Preston if he moved because he’d tried to do the same to you earlier—but you were just as willing to wait to find out whether I was a threat. Evil people murder first and don’t bother about questions. All of this meant I needed to find out more. Were you trying to kill my employer and steal some big business deal as he contended? Finally I learned you claimed to be treasure hunters chasing a chimera, some old manuscript called The Book of Spies. That did not fit the profile my employer gave me. Then I looked back at you, Judd, and lost control of the wheel. My specialty is in making hits look like accidents, so I’d planned to erase you out here. Losing control of the boat presented an elegant opportunity. They are few.”
“Why did you change your mind?” Eva said.
“Because, God help me, I know human nature—in my world it’s nasty, corrupt, and mean. You aren’t, so in the end I had to believe you. I’ll tell you now I’m glad.” He looked at Eva. “You remind me of my daughter. You’re about the same age, and both very pretty in similar ways. According to the photo I was given, your true hair color is red. Hers is auburn.”
The yacht cruised onward, rolling up and down with the sea. The wind howled around them.
“I can’t trust you,” Judd decided.
“I understand. However, I’ll still take you to my friend and his airstrip.”
“Who hired you?”
“I won’t tell you that.”
“Your rules?”
He gave a curt nod. “I’ve survived many years in a business in which most of my colleagues have been killed off. Seldom do we die of old age. Rules are not for the timid or the careless. They require discipline. King Lear railed against the universe when he was punished for breaking its rules. I don’t want the same fate. Besides, the longer I live, the greater my chance of seeing my daughter again.”
“What’s your name?” Judd asked.
The assassin’s black eyes cut into him. “The Carnivore.” Then he smiled.
Thrace, Turkey
THE CARNIVORE turned off the yacht’s engines in calm waters near a strip of uninhabited land north of the village of Barbados. Judd dropped the anchor, they found flashlights, and they took off their shoes. The Carnivore pulled off his caftan. Beneath it he wore black jeans and a black T-shirt. His muscle tone was excellent, but his skin elasticity showed advancing age. Judd guessed him to be in his fifties.
They rolled up their jeans and waded ashore. Judd carried the duffel, and Eva wore her satchel, the strap across her chest. The wind was quieter here. They crossed the beach, and the Carnivore led them up ancient stone steps carved into a cliff.
At the top, they paused. The moon had risen, casting an eerie light across acres of grapevines tied neatly to wires running between gnarled wood posts. The vines were just beginning to leaf. The air smelled raw, of freshly tilled soil.
They headed off on a narrow dirt trail through the grapevines.
“Do you want to tell me what this is all about, Judd?” the Carnivore asked.
“Reciprocity is another of your rules?”
“A good one, don’t you think.”
“I like it,” Judd said. “But no, I’ll handle this.”
The trail widened, and the three moved on side by side.
The Carnivore peered around at Judd and said thoughtfully, “Yes, I believe you will—if it can be handled at all. But as for reciprocity, I consider us even by my giving you a safe route into Athens.”
“Is Preston free now?” Eva asked worriedly.
“He must be,” th
e Carnivore said. “He had backup.”
“What if I’d decided to kill him back in the Grand Bazaar,” Judd said. “Your movie would’ve been burned.”
“That would’ve worked just as well,” the Carnivore instructed. “He would’ve ‘awakened’ and attacked you. I would’ve saved the day by helping you to escape, him to live, and the movie to continue.”
Judd changed the subject. “What about his note, the one that mentioned Athens. Was it legitimate or a plant?”
“Legitimate. A note to himself. It added to the authenticity and gave you a significant reason to believe what you saw was real. Perhaps more important, we didn’t expect you to live long enough to use it or anything else you might’ve learned there.”
“Do you have any information about The Book of Spies and Robin Miller?” Eva asked.
“It was none of my business.”
“What about the Library of Gold?”
The Carnivore frowned. “I’ve heard of it. Is that what this is all about?”
“Yes.” But Judd said no more. Venomous snakes like the Carnivore shed their skins occasionally, but their bites remained just as unpredictable—and poisonous. “What will you tell your employer?”
“Nothing.”
Judd sensed fury behind the one-word answer. The Carnivore was making his employer pay for lying to him. It also meant the employer would think he and Eva were dead—at least for a while.
“It gives you time,” the Carnivore said, “but it’s also good business for me. When one deals in death, one must make certain the rules are clear—and there are costs involved when they’re broken.” He glanced at Judd. “And it means you don’t have to contemplate eliminating me, and I don’t have to take proactive measures to make certain you don’t try.”
The words were calm, matter-of-fact, but they sent a chill through Judd.
“You won’t be paid,” Judd said.
“I have half. I’ll keep it.”
