The Lucifer Code (2010)

by Charles Brokaw

  Long moments later, Lourds found yet another door. This one held no puzzle and, when opened, revealed only a small cave. To the left, Lourds spotted an opening that showed the star-studded sky.

  ‘It’s nice to see that not all of that went unnoticed,’ Lourds said. ‘But I hate to think of all those books, all that knowledge, that may be lost now.’

  ‘The police may not know how to find the tunnel,’ Joachim said. ‘They may only be responding to the threat above ground.’

  ‘I hope so.’ Lourds removed his hat and squatted down to rest for a moment. The air in the cave was warmer than the dankness that had permeated the tunnels. He gazed round the cave. Numerous beer cans and second-hand camping paraphernalia revealed that the local teens favoured the cave as well.

  ‘Local Lovers’ Lane?’ Cleena asked.

  ‘One of the many,’ Olympia replied. ‘There are a number of caves round the city.’

  ‘I take it you have personal experience?’ Cleena said.

  Olympia frowned at the other woman and started to say something.

  ‘Maybe we could concentrate on surviving tonight,’ Lourds interrupted. ‘Evidently there are a lot of people who know about the Joy Scroll and want it. Until we have our hands on it, it’s in danger of becoming lost to us.’

  Without a word, Joachim took out the leather tube and handed it over to Lourds.

  Lourds looked at the other man.

  Lourds recognized the cost of Joachim’s concession. He took the scroll in his left hand and offered the monk his right. ‘This is what I do, Joachim. If there’s anyone better at this, I haven’t met them. If there’s a way to get an answer to this, I’ll get you an answer. I promise.’

  Central Business District

  King Abdullah Economic City, Saudi Arabia

  24 March 2010

  Webster stood in the early morning darkness of the hotel high-rise and looked out across the city to the sea. Dawn was less than an hour away, but he knew the violence waiting to sweep over the land would arrive before the sun. He was just where he wanted to be: in the eye of the approaching storm.

  The last five days hadn’t been without their frustrations, though. Lourds and the Brotherhood of the Joy Scroll had vanished. Despite Eckart’s best efforts, no trace remained of them. Webster knew the professor and his new allies were within the city proper. If they had their hands on the Joy Scroll, the vice-president remained certain that he would know it. He would feel that threat as surely as he felt the promise of the impending violence about to engulf Saudi Arabia.

  He sipped his Scotch and water and glanced at the television in the corner the room. He maintained his own satellite dish that linked him to Western world news and not just the propaganda Prince Khalid allowed to air on local stations. The American Networks and the

  He intended to provide the spark.

  Exhilarated, he used the television remote control to switch through the news channels. Video footage, some of it old and some of it new, showed armoured ground units, aircraft and soldiers preparing for full-on military engagements. Israel was curiously silent, but no less industrious. India and Pakistan, as well as China, had also upped their border defences and patrols. In Iraq and Turkey, American forces also prepared. In the Gulf, navy ships ran strict grids and maintained constant contact.

  Webster was inordinately pleased. All he needed was the Scroll to complete things and ensure his ultimate victory.

  ‘Are you still awake?’ Vicky DeAngelo stared at Webster from the tangled sheets of his bed.

  ‘I napped briefly,’ Webster admitted. ‘But I can’t sleep very well. Too many things to do.’

  Vicky sat up in bed and pulled the sheets up after her. Only the full, heavy roundness of her left breast was visible, and Webster felt certain she knew exactly what she revealed as well as what she hid. Her slim, tanned legs were crossed but the sheet covered her lap.

  She smiled. ‘I thought I had exhausted you.’

  Vicky arched a salacious eyebrow. ‘Is that an assessment or a challenge?’

  ‘Perhaps a little of both.’

  ‘Are you going to come over here? Or do I have to come after you?’

  Webster didn’t reply.

  Vicky tossed the sheets away and stood revealed in her full glory. She was beautiful, with alabaster skin and a body moulded by relentless exercise designed by a personal trainer and the narcissistic expertise of a gifted plastic surgeon. Not a blemish remained on her. She crossed the floor like royalty, claiming every inch of space with undeniable carnality. She was a temptress from the Old Testament, a siren who could topple kings and heroes, and Webster couldn’t help but be moved by the sight and promise of her.

  When she reached him, she wrapped her left arm round his neck and took his drink in her right hand. She tossed back the rest of the Scotch and water, then moulded her fiery lips against his. He lifted her in his arms, stepped between her thighs, joined them, and turned so that her back was to the wall. Arching his body fiercely, he drove himself into her again and again. She cradled his head and covered his face in kisses. She surged against him and screamed in exultation again and again, till there was almost nothing left of her. With one final thrust, they both fell silent.

  Slowly, Vicky regained control of her body. Tears ran down her cheeks, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

  ‘I’ve never felt anything like that before,’ Vicky gasped.

  ‘I know,’ Webster told her.

  ‘Awfully confident of yourself, aren’t you?’

  ‘Do I have any reason not to be?’ he taunted.

  ‘No, not at all.’ Vicky kissed him. ‘I have to admit, I expected you to turn me away after we arrived here.’

  ‘I don’t have to play the grieving widower any more.’ Webster kissed her again.

  ‘You were playing?’

  ‘No. I loved my wife.’ Webster was certain that was why she had been taken from him. Her loss had been one of the few setbacks in his relentlessly successful life. But now his plans were at last nearing fruition. He could afford a bit of amusement. He turned to her again and took her in his arms.

  She opened herself willingly.

  Nothing could stop him. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Oceanview Offices

  Eminonu District

  Istanbul, Turkey

  24 March 2010

  ‘Would you like tea?’

  Lourds looked up from the notes he had taken the previous night, still groggily struggling to make sense

  Olympia stood in front of his borrowed desk and looked as tired as he felt. She and the monks had been busy searching through books they’d borrowed from local libraries, the university and bought along Cagaloglu, the street filled with a collection of booksellers and printers. Their efforts had gleaned a few facts no one else had known, not even the monks, but it hadn’t helped with the translation Lourds was struggling with. Cleena had stayed with him as his bodyguard, but she hadn’t seemed happy about it. Lourds wondered again what kept her with them when she’d seen first hand how dangerous it was to do so.

  ‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ Lourds answered.

  ‘What about breakfast?’

  ‘We have breakfast?’

  ‘I went to market this morning,’ Olympia explained. ‘It’s nothing fancy, but it will help hold body and soul together.’

  ‘I’d be very interested in breakfast.’

  ‘Good. Why don’t you go grab a shower and we’ll take breakfast out on the balcony. The sun has only just risen, and the weather’s perfect for early morning dining.’

  ‘I really don’t have time to—’

  ‘Thomas,’ Olympia said gently and reached out to hold his face between her hands as if he were a child,

  ‘You do make sense.’

  ‘Of course I make sense.’ She leaned in to kiss him. In that tender touch, he realized that he had missed sharing her bed the last four days.

  Some vacation, he thought ruefully.

  Olympia glanced d
own at him, and smiled. ‘Maybe you should make that a cold shower.’

  ‘Or,’ Lourds prompted, taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers, ‘you could shower with me.’

  ‘And who would get your breakfast ready?’

  ‘When we get back, all scrubbed clean and satiated, I’ll help you get both our breakfasts ready.’

  ‘You do realize that if we get caught it would mortify my brother.’

  ‘I suspect it would take rather more than that to mortify your brother.’

  Olympia hesitated only a moment, then she nodded and took Lourds by the hand.

  Oceanview Offices had at one time been the workspace for an import/export business. Lourds hadn’t heard the whole story from Joachim, but the gist seemed that the business had ended suddenly. A few

  Whatever business had actually taken place in the offices, the enterprise had been well accoutred. In addition to the conference room where Lourds worked, which had a view of the coastline and of the Hagia Sophia, there were five other smaller offices, two bathrooms – one with a small shower and a kitchen. The monks had brought in simple sleeping bags and kitchen utensils. At the moment, the offices were between leases. Lourds didn’t know if Joachim had made arrangements with the owners or if they were simply squatting there. In the end, it didn’t really matter. They wouldn’t – couldn’t – be there long.

  Feeling refreshed from the shower, Lourds helped Olympia make breakfast from the breads, fresh fruit, cheeses and sausages she’d brought back from the market. When they finished filling their plates, they retreated to the balcony with a pot of dark Turkish coffee.

  Some time over the last few days, someone – and Lourds suspected it was Olympia – had brought a stray table and five mismatched chairs out onto the small balcony overlooking the waterfront.

  ‘I’m surprised your watchdog hasn’t made it up yet,’ Olympia said, referring to Cleena.

  Lourds looked out over the water and the line of

  ‘She did force her way into our group.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘And that’s only because she bungled the original kidnapping for Qayin and his people.’

  ‘As I recall, she rescued me from Qayin.’

  ‘Only after bringing you to him.’

  Lourds couldn’t argue the point there.

  He buttered a roll and ate it thoughtfully. His mind still churned through all the symbols he had been studying for the last few days. A few times, he had thought they were starting to make sense, then they would just slip away like minnows through his fingers.

  ‘And the little friend she keeps in her ear is another problem,’ Olympia said. ‘How do we know we can trust him?’

  ‘How do you know it’s a him?’

  Olympia gave him a look. ‘Please. It shows in the way she acts. The friend is a man. You can trust me on this one.’

  ‘Okay, I trust you.’

  A look of frustrated disbelief filled Olympia’s face. ‘You’ll trust me that her friend is a man, but you won’t trust me that having her with us is a bad idea?’

  Olympia picked up her tray, silverware and cup and departed without another word.

  Lourds sighed tiredly. Obviously there were two languages he presently didn’t understand. He sipped his coffee and caught movement from the corner of

  The young woman only had a couple of pieces of buttered toast, grapes and melon wedges on her plate. She wore her red hair pulled back.

  ‘Are you planning on going anywhere for the next hour or so?’ Cleena asked.

  ‘I hadn’t planned to. Why?’

  ‘I’ve got an errand I have to run.’

  Suspicion darkened Lourds’ thoughts immediately, and he knew it must have shown on his face.

  Cleena smiled at him and lifted an eyebrow. ‘You don’t trust me?’

  ‘I do,’ Lourds assured her. ‘As much as I can.’

  ‘Do you trust me as much as you trust your girlfriend?’

  ‘She’s not my—’

  ‘Maybe no one else noticed you slip off to the shower together a few minutes ago, but I did.’ Cleena bit into a melon wedge. Juice trickled down her chin.

  ‘I trust you a lot, as it happens. In fact, I think I’m the only one who trusts you.’

  ‘Probably.’ Cleena glanced at the notes he had at the side of his plate. ‘Still haven’t figured out that scroll?’

  ‘Not yet, no.’

  ‘I have faith in you,’ Cleena said simply.

  ‘What’s your errand?’ Lourds took a bite of melon and found it sweet.

  ‘I’ve got to go somewhere.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘It appears to be a scarce commodity these days.’

  ‘Old Mother Hubbard and her cupboard, eh?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Lourds replied. ‘You’ve been around our group for four days, and you’ve talked less than anyone.’

  ‘I’m a private person.’

  ‘Private people don’t force their friendship on others at gunpoint.’

  Cleena smiled. ‘You have to admit, it’s a lot more effective and it gets quicker results.’

  ‘There’s something to be said for people who take the long way to do things.’

  ‘There’s not always time for that.’

  ‘You’re asking for a lot and are giving only a little.’

  ‘Maybe I’m giving you more than you suspect.’

  Lourds took a breath and let it out. ‘We’re coming to a critical juncture in our partnership. Trust is getting to be a hard thing to come by, so maybe it’s time you started trusting me.’

  ‘Are you forgetting who you’re up against, Professor?’ Cleena pinned him with her gaze. ‘You’ve got a phantom army on your tail, judging from those ghosts who have wandered out of Iraq. You’ve got Qayin and his people on another side. Then there are the monks.’

  ‘They’re on my side.’

  ‘For the moment. But you have to remember: they didn’t tell you everything at the beginning. Neither did

  Before Lourds could respond, Cleena picked up her plate and coffee cup and departed. He sat in the chill morning shade and watched her walk away. He didn’t know whether to be more afraid of her or for her.

  ‘Where you like to go, miss?’

  Cleena pulled her attention from the ocean and peered along the line of shops and bars on the left side of the street. Cruise ships lined the docks and tourists were out in force. Hawkers called out their wares from doorways and carts. Small bazaars had opened beneath cargo tents in alleyways. The crowds of people would make it difficult to keep an eye on her surroundings, but she hoped they would also provide an easy way to disappear if it came to that.

  ‘There.’ Cleena pointed to a cyber café that advertised battling robots rendered in neon tubing. Popular game names and posters littered the windows.

  ‘Of course, miss. At once.’ The driver cut across two lanes of traffic, narrowly avoided locking bumpers with another taxi trailing too close, and skidded against the curb.

  Cleena paid the man and tipped him well enough, but not so well that he would remember her, and got out. She stepped into the flow of human traffic and looked around.

  ‘I haven’t seen anyone yet.’ Sevki sounded frazzled and she felt badly about asking him for so much.

  ‘None of the monks?’

  ‘Not one.’

  ‘I don’t think they let me go alone because they trusted me.’

  ‘They probably thought you were going to lead them into a trap.’

  Cleena grinned at that. The thought of the monks being afraid of her rocked her world a little. They were smug with their holier-than-thou attitudes. But they weren’t the ones she was intent on trapping.

  ‘You’ll see someone soon. Just keep a close watch over me.’

  ‘Always. But you know, I really have to protest this course of action.’

  ‘Again?’ Cleena pulled open the café door and entered the darkness. She slipped her sunglasses off and surveyed th
e large room.

  Patrons occupied most of the three or four dozen computers scattered around. Nearly all of them were involved in online gaming or surfing porn sites. Sometimes they did both.

  ‘Yes – again,’ Sevki said. ‘You didn’t listen the first few times.’

  ‘It wasn’t a few.’ Cleena went to the front desk and negotiated for a computer. She showed one of the fake identifications Sevki had arranged for her and paid cash, English pounds.

  ‘I got drafted into this.’ Cleena sat at the table and swiped the card she’d been given through the data reader. The computer powered up and allowed her access. ‘If it had been up to me, I’d still be playing in the minor leagues.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘These aren’t the kind of guys who will simply let you fade away once everything is said and done. You know that.’

  Sevki sighed. ‘I know.’

  ‘All I can do is increase their cost to play. The same way we did when you stepped wrong round the Russian Mafia.’ Cleena felt badly about bringing that up, but she also felt she didn’t have a choice.

  ‘I know. I still owe you for that.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’ Cleena took a deep breath. ‘But I could use help now. I can’t do this by myself. If I can’t be safe, I want my sister to be.’

  ‘She will be. Are you at the computer?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Then go to this IP address.’

  Cleena did, and once there, she downloaded all the programs and applications Sevki had waiting. The computer protested just for a moment, then the warning screen for the firewalls quieted and went away. Within seconds, Sevki had the machine slaved to his own.

  ‘We’re set up,’ Sevki said a short time later.

  The phone rang.

  When CIA Special Agent in Charge James Dawson heard the strident ring of the phone on the nightstand beside the bed in his hotel room, he held up a hand to the young woman straddling him. She stopped her wild gyrations but continued a gentle rocking that held him right at the brink.