The Lucifer Code (2010)

by Charles Brokaw

  ‘Someone came to the bar last night. He threatened me. And then he hurt me.’

  Swiftly, Cleena bottled the rage that swelled within her. A hot mind is only a danger to itself, girlie, her father had told her over and over. You save that anger for when you need it. But before you use it, you make sure it’s gone cold and hard. That’s when it’ll be dangerous to someone else, not you.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Cleena asked.

  ‘No, I’m not all right. I don’t know who this guy was. He came into the bar, waited till I was alone, then he slapped me.’

  ‘He slapped you? Nothing more?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Nothing broken?’

  ‘No, nothing’s broken. But he did break Liam’s nose when Liam tried to stop the guy from hitting me.’

  Cleena tried to remember who Liam was. Brigid was always talking about friends and co-workers and young men. It was hard to keep them all straight.

  ‘My boss,’ Brigid said.

  ‘Right,’ Cleena said. ‘Got him now. Remember: no names.’

  ‘This guy already knows your name.’

  ‘Someone else might not. Take a breath and calm down.’

  Brigid sucked in a ragged breath.

  ‘Do you know who this guy was?’ Cleena asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘You need to be sure,’ Cleena said.

  ‘I don’t know! A lot of people come to the bar.’

  ‘So he looked like a regular?’

  Brigid was quiet for a moment. ‘No. He was a little too clean. Too straight. Except for when he started wailing away on me.’

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘You.’

  ‘Why?’ Cleena asked.

  ‘He didn’t say.’

  Cleena forced herself to be calm. ‘What did this guy say?’

  ‘He told me he wanted you to call him. He left a number.’

  ‘Give it to me.’ Cleena quickly copied the number on the receipt from the second-hand store. ‘Don’t go back to the apartment.’

  ‘I didn’t. I’m not going to. If this guy knows I’m your sister and where I work, he probably knows where we live, too.’

  ‘That’s right. Keep thinking clearly like that and we’re going to be all right. Are you somewhere safe?’

  ‘Yes. I’m at—’

  Cleena interrupted. ‘Don’t tell me. It might be a good idea for you to stay away from work for a while. You’re too vulnerable there.’

  ‘I can’t miss work. I like that job.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘There’ll be enough money,’ Cleena said. Even if she had to rip off a few drug dealers in the Combat Zone, she’d make it. ‘I promise. In the meantime, I want you to be safe.’

  ‘What about you?’

  Cleena felt the weight of the Czech pistol at her back and scanned the mall crowd. ‘I’m safe enough, girlie.’

  ‘You sound like Dad when you call me that.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Brigid’s voice grew softer. ‘It’s okay. I don’t really mind. It’s just that when you do that I know you’re thinking about him, and you never think about him unless there’s serious trouble.’

  ‘I’d say a man coming to your work and slapping you is pretty serious,’ Cleena said. And if it wasn’t serious before, it is now. She tamped down the rage inside her, cooled it and held it tight.

  ‘There’s something else,’ Brigid stated more quietly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘This guy, he said if you didn’t call him, he was going to kill me.’

  Cleena made herself count to ten. The anger and fear had almost gotten away from her.

  ‘Are you still there?’ Brigid asked.

  ‘I am. Don’t worry. I’m going to call him.’

  ‘Okay, but then I’m going to have to worry about you.’

  ‘If that’s the case, it might be better if you never dealt with him again.’

  ‘I won’t. I can promise you that.’ Cleena focused on the task at hand. ‘For now, you need to get rid of that phone. I’m getting rid of this one as well, so this number will no longer work.’

  ‘We go to backup?’

  ‘Yes.’ Backup was computer contact only through ads placed on popular exchange lists.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Brigid asked in a much smaller voice that betrayed a lot of the fear she was undoubtedly feeling.

  ‘That everything’s going to be all right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Cleena answered instantly and smoothly. ‘I’m perfectly sure.’ But her heart was beating much faster than it should have been.

  ‘Love you,’ Brigid said.

  ‘Love you too, kiddo.’ Cleena made herself break the connection. Tears misted her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. She checked the crowd again, saw nothing suspicious, and walked to the nearest trash bin. She dropped the phone into the container and kept walking.

  Just keep breathing, she told herself. Keep breathing and keep focused. Whoever hurt Brigid, whoever threatened her, you’re going to make them pay.

  The phone rang only once.

  ‘Ah, Ms MacKenna, I knew you’d be calling, but I really expected you to call me much earlier.’

  ‘I’ve been busy,’ Cleena retorted. ‘And if you mention names again, I’m hanging up.’

  That seemed to catch the man at the other end of the connection by surprise. Cleena took advantage of the pause to listen for noises at the other end. The voice sounded American, and much too full of himself to be anyone’s peon. Whoever the man was, he was used to having and using power.

  ‘Listen,’ the man said in a much harsher voice, ‘this is going to be done my way—’

  ‘No,’ Cleena replied. She gazed out of the windows up at the sky and tried to pretend this was a day like any other.

  ‘Did your sister tell you what I promised I’d do to her if—’

  ‘Spare me.’ Cleena checked her watch. ‘You have another minute and twenty-three seconds till I hang up.’

  ‘If I wanted to track this call, it would already be done.’

  ‘You work with a United States intelligence agency then? You have to in order to make that claim and not even feign false modesty.’

  ‘Not only that,’ Cleena said, ‘you’re a desk jockey. A paper pusher. You’re a mouse playing at being a lion.’ She knew that pushing his buttons was dangerous, but it was also the only way she knew to find out more about him.

  He cursed her.

  ‘See how easy this is to play?’ Cleena asked. ‘The more you talk, the more I’m going to learn about you. And the more you can be sure that one day – when you least expect it – I’m going to walk in behind you and slit your throat for threatening my sister.’

  ‘You don’t call the shots here,’ the man said.

  ‘I do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting there waiting on me to call. And you’ve got twenty-nine seconds to bring this to a close.’

  ‘Your sister—’

  ‘Already couldn’t be in any more danger, so don’t even bother trying to up that particular ante.’ Cleena made herself sound cold. She was good at that. Even her father had been impressed. ‘Seventeen seconds.’

  ‘You cost me a team,’ the man snarled.

  ‘Those oafs at the airport? Please.’ Cleena waited for the man to deny the charge. If he didn’t, she could try tracing those dead men back to their master. She was already certain she was looking at an American intelligence agency, so she felt sure the task wouldn’t take too long.

  ‘So you’re going to be my team now.’

  Bingo, Cleena thought triumphantly. There is a connection I can exploit.

  ‘Eight seconds,’ she said.

  ‘I want you to shadow the man you kidnapped and let me know what he’s up to. You can call me at this number any time of the day or night.’

  ‘You’re too late. I already lost him.’

  ‘The Istanbul police department currently has him
. I suggest you get over there and pick him up.’

  ‘If you know so much, why do you need me?’

  ‘Go. Play nice. If you do, your kid sister gets to see her next birthday.’

  But you won’t, Cleena promised herself. Not unless it’s coming up really soon.

  ‘It would help me if I knew what makes him so important,’ she said.

  ‘They say curiosity killed the cat. In this case, it could get your sister killed. Pay attention to your assignment. Call me the minute you have news, and call me at least every twelve hours. I know you won’t be keeping this phone, so I won’t try calling you.’

  The man hung up and the dial tone buzzed in Cleena’s ear. She squeezed the telephone so hard that it broke in her grip. She forced herself to breathe out, then took the escalator down to the first floor. She never broke stride as she walked to the front of the mall. Her mind was fully engaged. If she was going to be staying in Istanbul for a while longer, she needed more supplies.

  But most of all she needed information. And she knew where to get it.

  Stone Goose Apartments

  Zeytinburnu District

  Istanbul, Turkey

  17 March 2010

  ‘Sevki, open up.’ Cleena banged again on the weathered door with her fist. It was only 10.37 a.m., much too early for the man she had come to see.

  The apartment was deep in the heart of the Zeytinburnu District, on the sixth floor of a building that had seen much better times long ago. Rickety metal stairs zigzagged along the side of the building. Cleena thought they shivered much worse than they had the last time she’d come calling. Even then she’d been worried that the stairs might completely fall off the building while she ascended them. The bottom floor of the building had once been a textile factory but now served as a way station for homeless people.

  No identifying markings existed on the door. Cleena knew that Sevki hadn’t moved, though. Although the other renters didn’t know it, Sevki owned the building. That fact was hidden through a small series of shell holding companies.

  ‘You better off come back,’ a screeching voice said.

  Turning slightly, her hand already dropping under her coat to grip the Czech pistol, Cleena looked across the alley to a neighbouring apartment building. There in the shadows, a little old woman sat on a narrow window sill with her feet on the landing, smoking a cigarette. Her dress was faded and looked brittle, but it was clean.

  ‘Thank you,’ Cleena said. ‘But I think I’m going to try anyway.’ She waved, then turned back to the door. This time she kicked it, hard.

  A harsh flurry of curse words in a mixture of languages grew louder as someone approached the door. A moment later, a brown eye peered through the peephole.

  ‘Oh my God,’ a male voice groaned. ‘Go away. Come back at a more decent hour.’

  ‘Sevki, let me in before I break the door down.’ Cleena kicked the door again, harder.

  ‘God, have you no decency, woman?’

  ‘None, nor shame either. Let me in, Sevki, or you’ll think the three little pigs got off easily.’

  ‘As I recall, the three little pigs won.’

  ‘Not in my world.’

  Sevki shot the bolts, seven of them, and opened the door. It was heavy and swung on well-oiled hinges. Beneath the aged wooden veneer was a metal core thick enough to withstand bullets and low-yield grenades. Sevki believed in security.

  ‘Is anyone with you?’ he asked. He stuck his head out and glanced along the walk.

  Cleena slapped him on the back of the head. ‘It’s stupid to stick your head out like that. Someone will shoot it off.’

  ‘No, no, no, no one will shoot my head off. I knew you were here, and I knew you were alone. I took your

  When Cleena did, she spotted the small camera mounted there.

  ‘Wireless feed,’ Sevki explained. ‘I see what it sees on my computer.’

  ‘Very well done.’

  Sevki grinned like a kid. He stood a little taller than Cleena and was lanky. His black hair was thick and in obvious disarray. Blue highlights showed on the ends. He wore olive cargo khakis and a black flannel T-shirt sporting a costumed superhero with a glowing ring under a green shirt. Round-lensed glasses softened his narrow face.

  ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,’ he said.

  ‘A few months,’ Cleena agreed.

  ‘Five months, three weeks and two days.’

  Cleena wasn’t surprised that he knew that. Sevki had a phenomenal mind, which was what had originally brought her to him.

  ‘You look well,’ he said. ‘Life has been good?’

  ‘I’m in trouble.’

  Some of the carefree attitude slid from Sevki’s face. ‘What kind of trouble?’

  ‘The bad kind. The kind you don’t know how bad it really is until it’s on you.’

  ‘And it’s on you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No. I’m sure of that.’

  Sevki stepped back and opened the door wider. ‘Come in.’

  Stone Goose Apartments

  Zeytinburnu District

  Istanbul, Turkey

  17 March 2010

  ‘I’m surprised you don’t know where the police department is.’ Sevki sat in a comfortable chair in front of a desk that had six computer monitors spread across it. His fingers clacked across the keyboard with practised ease. Images changed on the monitors with astonishing regularity. Cleena didn’t know how he kept up with everything, but she knew he did.

  ‘I’ve made a habit of never getting arrested.’ Cleena lounged on the couch with accustomed familiarity. When she was in Istanbul, she and Sevki spent time together, as friends and as lovers. Neither of them could afford to have someone permanent in their lives, and neither of them was willing to give up the world they felt safe in to live together. Besides, though the friendship and fringe benefits were good, both preferred independence.

  Sevki shrugged. ‘Getting arrested isn’t so bad.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘It’s when they try to keep you that things become less fun.’

  The apartment was a mix of adult and child, of technician and dreamer. Everything in the kitchen was neatly in its place. Sevki liked to cook, which was one of the things Cleena appreciated about him. The computer area was immaculate, neatly organized and carefully arranged. That was where he did his work.

  One wall held shelves filled with boxed American comic books and graphic novels. Each box was carefully coded. Posters of scantily clad women carrying magic swords and impossibly large handguns cluttered the walls. Cleena recognized Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, but none of the others. A few were even alien, but unmistakably female.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m famished,’ she admitted.

  ‘There is some arabasi soup in the refrigerator.’

  ‘Sounds delicious.’ Cleena got up from the couch. ‘Want some?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Is there enough for two?’

  Sevki turned and grinned at her. ‘Yes, even when one of the two is you. I also baked some ekmek a couple of days ago. Warm that up in the oven—’

  ‘I know how to fix leftovers,’ Cleena interrupted. ‘I’m not exactly helpless.’

  ‘You’re right. Not exactly helpless.’

  A warm feeling spread throughout Cleena as she set about preparing the simple meal. It felt good to be arabasi, poured it into a pan, and warmed it on the stove. She unwrapped the small loaves of ekmek and placed them on the tray inside the oven. Within minutes, the delightful smell of chicken broth and bread filled the apartment.

  She took down a couple of big bowls from the shelves, filled them with soup, and cut the loaves into manageable chunks. She put a couple of pieces of bread into each bowl, then added slices of Havarti cheese.

  After she handed Sevki his bowl, Cleena returned to the couch and peered over his shoulder at the monitors while she ate. The soup was good, just spi
cy enough with the red pepper, and the sourdough bread complemented the taste.

  ‘According to what I can find here,’ Sevki said, ‘your Professor Lourds—’

  ‘He’s not my Professor Lourds.’

  Sevki glanced at her and smiled. ‘Struck a nerve, have I?’

  ‘The man is an idiot. He nearly got us both killed. Several times.’

  ‘Anyway, he’s here in Istanbul to deliver a series of lectures to classes a colleague teaches.’

  ‘What colleague?’ Cleena blew on her soup to cool it, then soaked a chunk of bread and ate it.

  Sevki rattled the keyboard with his lightning fast strikes. ‘A professor at Istanbul University.’

  ‘Her name, actually. Professor Olympia Adnan.’ Sevki brought up an image from the university on one of the monitors.

  The woman in the picture had dark hair styled to fit the shape of her head, dark eyes and a smooth olive complexion. She wore square-rimmed glasses. Cleena put her age at late thirties, but most of that ageing was done out of spite. The woman looked too beautiful to be a university professor.

  ‘Hey, she’s quite the babe,’ Sevki commented.

  ‘If you like older women,’ Cleena retorted.

  ‘Uh, yeah.’ Sevki turned his attention to his soup. ‘It might help if I knew what I was looking for.’

  ‘I need everything you can find out about the professor, and what he’s doing here. Beyond what you see in the news.’

  ‘So I’m supposed to be a mind reader?’

  ‘Think outside the box on this one, Sevki. I need you to use those brilliant instincts of yours.’

  Sevki smiled. ‘Now you seek to play on my ego.’ He nodded and tapped his forehead. ‘Very good strategy. You must really be in trouble.’

  ‘Yes.’ Cleena’s appetite nearly soured at that thought, but she forced herself to keep eating. That was one of the things her father had drilled into her from the beginning: when she was tired, she slept, and when there was time, she ate. Someone malnourished and overly tired couldn’t function in survival mode. And she was certainly there.

  Sevki remained still, taking in everything she said and showing no emotion.