The Nabatean Secret

by J C Ryan

  He made his introduction brief. “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.” He watched with glee as mouths dropped open around the room, and every individual rose to their feet.

  Samuel Houston Grant strode in from the side door looking like a thundercloud. He wasted no time on introductory remarks but got straight to the point. No thank you for coming or welcome.

  “Sit down, and shut up.

  “You have all been called here because you are the best minds we can pull together in the face of a crisis of world-shaking proportions. It’s my understanding that you acted like drunken fans at a football game this morning. I’m here to tell you that nonsense will stop as of now.

  “You will work together in the most efficient way possible, and you will accept the assignments that Bill Griffin gives you without question. There will be no more of this petty crap about who’s better informed than whom. No more pissing contests. Do I make myself clear?”

  The pale faces and tentative nods around the room didn’t satisfy him.

  “Let me tell you what will happen if you don’t carry out my orders to the letter. I will fire your asses, every stinking one of you. Then I will have you charged with insubordination, endangering the lives of American citizens, and anything else the Attorney General can suggest, up to and including treason. I’ll see you in jail, and if I have any say in it, I may just have you shot. Now am I clear?”

  A chorus of “yes sirs” ensued, and one of the geeks started applauding, leading the entire audience to follow suit.

  Grant continued, “In case anyone still believes I’m not serious, let me tell you what will happen if you don’t produce results, and I mean last week. Bill tells me he informed you about the existence of the Nabateans and their superior technology. You all surely know about the explosion at Patch Barracks. That was the Nabateans. We have no way to predict when they might decide to do the same thing in the middle of our city or in Times Square. American lives depend on your quick solutions.

  “They have infiltrated the highest layers of government. There may even be some of them among you, so if you see anyone, anyone, obstructing or sabotaging this project, you are to report it directly to me immediately. Your squabbles have already put us eight or more hours behind. That could mean the difference to the survival of your own families. I’m not kidding. And if you don’t believe me, pay close attention to what I am about to show you.” He nodded to Bill.

  Bill had prepared several PowerPoint slides with the goriest photos of the Patch Barracks incident, which he now showed on the big screen without saying a word.

  The audience had gone so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

  “That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we’re up against. All you have to do is imagine that happening in DC or any other city in America. That explosion there was just the prototype—our wakeup call.”

  Grant took a sip of water, looked out at his audience again, and gave them his last instructions.

  “All right. I am now personally in charge of this project, and Bill is my voice. I want you working in shifts twenty-four seven, beginning right now. Don’t expect to go home tonight. You have fifteen minutes from the time I dismiss you to call your spouses, significant others, parents, and children to tell them not to expect to see you for the foreseeable future.

  “I’ll have progress reports on my desk at eight a.m. and five p.m. daily. I want a working quantum computer in six weeks and a prototype of a quantum, encrypted, unbreakable communications system in eight weeks. Get to it.”

  Grant turned to go when one brave soul called out, “Sir! Some of us haven’t eaten.”

  Grant turned around. No one was pointing a finger. In fact, he hadn’t eaten either, not since sometime the previous evening. These idiots didn’t get it yet. With a heavy sigh, he returned to the podium.

  “Order pizzas and soft drinks. Send the bill to the White House. But for the love of God, take this seriously. I don’t know about you, but I have no wish for our nation’s capital to be vaporized like Patch Barracks.”

  He gave a dismissive wave and walked slowly toward the exit. Bill took the podium but decided not to say anything. From what he could see, the geeks had already formed groups and were working diligently, discussing the problem and already making notes. He looked toward the President’s retreating back. What was it about men who attained the highest office in the land?

  President Grant was not a genius nor a general, but when it came to decisions of critical importance, he acted like both. Reminds me of General George “Blood-and-Guts” Patton. His admiration for his old friend had never been greater.

  Chapter 51 - A family visit

  Mackenzie and Carter were desperate to see the children. When they’d left Freydís in mid-March, it was supposed to be an overnight trip as far as she knew. It was now near the end of April, and they’d lost count of the weeks.

  “Is it four, five, or six weeks since I’ve seen my babies?” Mackenzie sighed.

  “Liam would object to being called a baby,” Carter replied.

  “They’ll always be my babies, even when they’re grown and have children of their own. You’re sidestepping my concern. I want to see the children, Carter. Can’t we make that happen?”

  Drawing her to him and putting his arms around her, Carter said, “I miss them, too, Mackie. I’ll find a way.”

  The problem wasn’t so much finding a place to meet in secret. It was getting word to Freydís. With electronic communications forbidden, the logistics weren’t as simple as they might have been. The next time Dylan arrived to move them to a new safe house, Carter insisted he get word to Freydís that Mackenzie’s parents should take the kids to a safe location where he and Mackenzie could meet them for a visit of at least a couple of days.

  “No problem,” Dylan answered. “We have safe houses all up and down this coast. I’ll send a message with the ‘milk’ plane.” Then he couldn’t resist a chance to tease Mackenzie, who never knew when he was being silly if he kept his face straight.

  “The ranch may be under surveillance,” he said. “Maybe we should disguise the kids. Best way to do that would be to make Beth into a little boy. You don’t mind if we cut her hair, do you?”

  Mackenzie sent a panicked glance to her husband, who was watching her with interest. She turned to Dylan. “Don’t you dare! She loves her red hair. You can put a wig on her, or put one on Liam and make him into a girl instead—”

  “Hey! I object to that,” Carter interrupted.

  Dylan held his hands up in surrender. “I was kidding!”

  Mackenzie leveled a frown on him. “Now, tell me, when I can see my children?”

  “I’ll make it happen within the week,” Dylan promised. As he left, he glanced back at Mackenzie, who had a wicked smile on her face. Damn, she snookered me. He grinned as he got into his car. Somehow, he’d get even.

  ***

  The following Wednesday, the pilot of the “milk” plane hand-delivered a sealed envelope to Mackenzie’s father.

  “Mary, we’re going to take a little trip,” Steven called after reading the letter. His wife came into the room to hear what he was thinking.

  “We’re meeting Mackenzie and Carter in Maine,” he told her, speaking quietly so the children couldn’t hear. “We won’t have long with them, just a couple of days. But it will be good to see them.”

  Mary agreed. “It’s been hard to keep answering the children’s questions with ‘soon,’” she sighed. “Does this mean they’re out of danger?”

  “Well, the meeting’s clandestine, so probably no. But maybe it isn’t quite as bad as it was before, or they wouldn’t risk meeting us and the children at all.”

  “How are we going to do it?” she asked.

  “We’re to tell the children we’re going to visit Bly and Ahote’s children and grandkids. It would be best if they don’t tell anyone where we’re going.”

  “Liam wouldn’t, of course, but Beth is a little chatterbox.
I think that’s best if she doesn’t know until we’re in the air.”

  Three days later, the Andersons and their grandchildren accompanied Ahote and Bly in their plane on a trip to Maine to visit Ahote and Bly’s children and a string of grandkids.

  They hadn’t seen each other for quite a few months. Ahote and Bly had been getting messages via email and Skype, on a daily basis lately, hinting that it would be great for them to come over for a visit and how much their grandkids were missing them.

  Two of their five grandkids were about Liam’s and Beth’s age and were asking about them. They had become good friends when they visited their grandparents on Freydís during school holidays.

  At the airport, they were met by Ahote and Bly’s children and grandkids—a crowd of four adults and five children. After the hugs and kisses, they all piled into three vehicles, Steven, Mary, Liam, and Beth were in the car with Ahote and Bly’s youngest daughter, Kay, and her husband, John, and their two kids, a boy and girl about the same ages as Liam and Beth.

  When they got to John and Kay’s house, a large three-story home with two living areas, the Andersons with their grandkids were taken to the top floor living area, which had two large bedrooms and enough space for all of them.

  “Okay, Liam, Beth,” Kay said while pointing to the bedroom door at the end of the hall, “that’s your room. You can go and put your bags down there.”

  Liam and Beth thanked Kay and pulled their little wheeled suitcases to the room. Liam opened the door and froze.

  Mackenzie lifted Liam off his feet, hugging him tightly. When Beth saw her mom, she squealed, “Mommy!”

  Mackenzie passed Liam on to Carter and lifted Beth off her feet.

  There was a momentary traffic jam at the door as Carter and Mackenzie greeted their children with hugs and kisses and more than a few tears on the part of Beth and Mackenzie.

  When Carter let go of his son, Liam looked around and said, disgusted, “Beth, quit crying.”

  She stuck her tongue out to him and grabbed Mackenzie tighter around the neck.

  Then it was Beth’s turn to hug and kiss her dad.

  They all cleared the doorway so the elder Andersons could get in, and another round of hugs were exchanged.

  Kay led them to the lounge area on their floor, showed them all the amenities and the kitchen, and left them to be together.

  As questions flew back and forth, those among the grownups only half-spoken so the kids couldn’t understand them, Beth settled comfortably on her mother’s lap and refused to move. Liam settled near his dad and looked wisely from his parents to his grandparents. It soon became clear to Carter his son understood more than he let on.

  “Liam, you know not to talk about any of this when you get back home, right?”

  Scornfully, the little boy answered, “Dad, I’m not an idiot. But Beth—”

  “I know. We’ll work something out with her. What have you been up to while we’ve been gone?”

  “The wolves come to visit every day. Uncle Ahote says Keeva is going to have babies again. We’re doing our school work, every day, we have lots to do. But we miss you and mom,” he answered.

  Carter struggled to swallow the sudden lump in his throat.

  “When can you and Mom come back, Dad?” Liam asked.

  “We’ll be back on Freydís in another month… I think. That’s one of the reasons Mom and I had to see you in person,” Carter said. “You know when we went to get the dolphins to help us find that city under the sea?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, we have another mission like that. In Italy, not under the sea. Remember Italy? We’ve been there a couple of times on vacation.”

  “I know, Dad. Italy is where Rome is, and the Coliseum, and the Pope, and all the statues.”

  “Yep, that’s the place. Mom and I need to go there. Can you be brave and take care of Beth a little longer?”

  “Yeah, but really Grandma and Grandpa take care of us. You knew that, right?” Liam grinned.

  Carter winked. “I had an idea they were helping you. And we’ll be back as soon as we can after that. Okay?”

  “Okay, Dad. You can count on me.”

  Carter and Mackenzie were happy to forget all the worry and stress in Washington, DC, for the two days with their kids and Mackenzie’s parents. Mackenzie was in heaven and spent most of the time with Beth in her lap, reading to the children and listening to their prattle.

  Carter got in plenty of snuggles with his daughter and realized with a pang his son was growing up too fast.

  At bedtime on the first evening, Beth was a little teary, so Mackenzie sang her favorite lullaby until she slept. Liam seemed to also be asleep when she checked on him, so she tiptoed out of the room to join Carter and her parents.

  “How are the children really doing?” Carter was asking his mother-in-law as Mackenzie entered the living room.

  “Don’t worry about them. They do miss you, but we keep them too busy to dwell on it. The translation staff and the EA people are spoiling them and their friends. And of course, having Jeha and the other animals helps. Keeva is especially watchful of Beth. It’s amazing, the way she senses when Beth is sad and comes to comfort her.”

  “Am I about to be replaced as her mother?” Mackenzie asked, only half-joking.

  “I’m sure Keeva will relinquish the role, especially if you come home around the time her pups are due. She’ll have her hands full with them,” Carter assured her.

  “Hands, not paws?” Mackenzie laughed.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Chapter 52 - His hourglass was running out quickly

  Mathieu Nabati was sleeping soundly when his secure phone rang. He glanced at his bedside clock as he reached for it. Three a.m. It had to be his mother. Lately, she’d been growing anxious that the Devereuxs had yet to be arrested. He knew what was coming, despite his warnings.

  “Yes, Maman, what is it?” he said in greeting.

  “You know very well what it is,” she snapped. “Why haven’t the Devereuxs been arrested yet?”

  Could this not have waited until morning? The ten-hour time difference between his hideaway in the Urals and his mother’s in the Andes could easily have accommodated calls at a reasonable hour for them both, but his mother paid no attention. However, he didn’t dare complain.

  “Maman, we’ve discussed this. Someone is hiding them.”

  “It’s time to call McCormick to account for his failure,” she insisted.

  “Agreed, he needs to be accountable. But it will mean exposing an operative to a face-to-face meeting for the first time in twenty-five years. Is this wise?”

  “We have to do something. The data we’re downloading from the Freydís translations has become useless. There’s no more technical data, only history. I find it suspect that there’s nothing but E-Codex material, and none from the A-Codex. One would think they’d be frantically working to determine the cause of the Patch Barracks bomb.

  “Furthermore, the information from the National Security Council has also dried up. With the press and Congress calling for answers, surely something of top-secret importance is being discussed in the NSC meetings.”

  “You mentioned that Jason Sullivan has apparently had cold feet lately,” Mathieu observed. “Perhaps he simply isn’t passing it on.”

  “I made it clear what the consequences would be if he attempted to resign, either from the Council or from his Cabinet post. I don’t think he’s playing games with us. More likely, someone on the NSC suspects a leak, and now they are careful about what they discuss.”

  “Maman, that’s ridiculous. They only exist to discuss secrets.”

  “Then you take my point. Have Sullivan and McCormick now come to the end of their usefulness?”

  “Perhaps so.”

  ***

  Over a solitary lunch taken in his office, Jason Sullivan was considering the same question. As a non-statutory member of the NSC, he wasn’t required to attend all meetings
. Nevertheless, he’d been invited to all, or so he’d thought. Lately, he’d had hints that meetings had been called to which he wasn’t invited. There was no easy way to verify his hunch, though. Not without exciting suspicion.

  By the same token, he felt as if a target were on his back any time he attended the virtual meetings of the Council of the Covenant of Nabatea. As if he’d been the subject of discussion among the members, though no one pointed a finger.

  Admittedly, it had been some weeks, since about mid-March, since anything of value to the Nabateans had come out of the NSC. There was nothing he could do about that, but the hints dropped in the Nabatean meetings weren’t so subtle.

  Nothing exciting for us today, Jason? We just need another good bomb out of the NSC now to tip the whole thing over.

  He couldn’t very well manufacture something like that, could he? Was it his fault that the information had dried up? There’d been times when he had something new for them almost every day, or at least updates on matters of interest.

  Nor was he under any illusion that the sudden dearth of information he had to give would not be of concern to Graziella. It certainly would. And while she’d made it plain he could not resign from the Council, neither would she allow him to resign his Cabinet position.

  The very outcome they’d been working toward—the downfall of President Grant—put him in a precarious position. In all likelihood, the President’s troubles, even if they didn’t bring him and his government down before the election, would give the opposition party the election come November. In that case, he’d definitely be replaced, and then his use to the Council would be at an end. Did the Council have a retirement scheme for members like him? Faithful members who, through no fault of their own, had been rendered useless?

  They should, he reflected. It was dangerous work, in terms of his freedom. Risky, sacrificial—many such terms came to him regarding the work he did for his bloodline. But somehow, he knew there were no retirement schemes, or none that he had in mind. He recalled all too well how some members had “retired” since he’d become a member.