Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  Sophia worked to change the focus. “You have a thing for tattoos?”

  “Stop there. Get closer. Do you know this guy?”

  “Yeah, sure. Nadia and I have known him since we were little kids, that’s Jael.”

  “I know someone with that exact same tattoo. Where’s this guy from?”

  “Dual citizen, US and Israel. His dad worked with our dads on digs. Jael and I played in the sand together.” Sophia sent a wicked grin toward Nadia. “Of course, the games Jael and I played were nothing like the games he played with Nadia.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Why is he involved in collection work?” Brian pulled his phone from his pocket, pretending to check a text. He took a surreptitious picture of the screen.

  “He was educated in America and joined his father in the non-school parts of the year, like Nadia and I did with our fathers. He’s very knowledgeable about antiquities, though he has no formal education. When he turned eighteen, he joined the military in Israel, it was required. And he went into the Special Forces. We thought he had died in an attack on a military convoy, but he turned up later, which was a great miracle.”

  “I imagine it felt that way,” Brian agreed. “And why is he working with you now?”

  “The Israeli government is afraid that Hezbollah and Hamas are getting a good-sized cut of the ISIS money, because ISIS is shipping artifacts along the drug routes. He’s doing what we’re doing. Trying to preserve and protect. Trying to stop the sales and profits.”

  “Does he have access to your information? These maps, for example. Do you share them with him or anyone else in your network?”

  Nadia sent him a worried look. “Well yes, on occasion.”

  “Are you ladies going to be working on this more today?” he asked.

  “All day. We have a lot of data to get through,” Sophia said.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to leave for a few hours.” He stood. “I have some paperwork and meetings. I’ll be back tonight.”

  “That’s okay, you don’t have to,” Sophia said. “I’ve had two good night’s sleep now, and I only plan to take half a pill tonight. That lets me get to sleep and stay asleep, but in an emergency, I can handle myself.”

  Brian stalled. Shit. “It’s not an inconvenience. I don’t mind at all.”

  “Thank you. But it’s Friday night. I’m sure there’s someone who’s expecting you to take her out for a good time. Sitting on my couch counting dust bunnies is well above the call of duty.”

  Brian stood, mind racing, trying to find some way to talk himself back into Sophia’s guest bedroom. He turned pleading eyes on Nadia, the voice of reason who had gotten him in the door in the first place.

  “Tomorrow we’ll be over bright and early,” Nadia said. “Three women, five kids, and a pool potluck. It’ll be good to relax. We should probably talk Monday morning though, and get a game plan together. I have more information about Peru. And Jael is flying in, you may want to be around for that.”

  Brian didn’t miss the startled look Sophia shot Nadia’s way.

  19

  Brian

  Friday p.m.

  “Ready for some shit?” Brian asked.

  “Bound to be connected with Sophia,” Nutsbe said.

  The three of them were gathered around Nutsbe’s computer. Thorn was flipping through papers that were shooting into the printer tray.

  “Sophia and Nadia.” He scrolled through his phone to pull up the picture of the tattoo.

  Thorn and Nutsbe came to immediate attention.

  “No way,” Nutsbe said.

  There on the man’s left arm, exactly where the face of a watch would be found, was a geometric design based on the Sephirot from the divine tradition of the Kabbalah. It was the emblem used by an esoteric group dating back to the time of the Crusades and the Knights Templar.

  “I thought we got the whole group. Did the feds release anyone?” Nutsbe’s fingers flew over his keyboard.

  “This is Sophia and Nadia’s childhood friend. A dual citizen—American-Israeli. He’s on their team to help save Syrian artifacts. He seems to be in a leadership role. The women communicate with him frequently, and they share their data with him regularly,” Brian explained. “His name is Jael Cohen. They thought he died in an explosion, but then, ta-da! He showed back up on the scene. Sound familiar?”

  Just this past December their fellow Panther Force brother, Gage Harrison, killed two men with this same tattoo when they broke into his fiancée’s apartment and tried to kidnap her. As they dug their way through the case, Panther Force captured or killed twelve men, all told. Every single one of them had that tattoo. All were listed as KIA in the Middle East, only to show up a decade later, happy and healthy and living in America. Panther Force thought they’d rounded up all of them. The Panther’s called them Rex Deus, after the ancient group who swore that they would return to the Holy Land and find the treasures safeguarded there. The Rex Deus band of brothers hadn’t given up a single detail about their group.

  “Jael Cohen,” Nutsbe muttered under his breath. “He’s listed with Israeli military as KIA in Israel. It doesn’t look like they know he’s risen from the ashes. I don’t see any information about him being dead in American databases. Date of birth…American social security… He’s travelling on an American passport between Turkey and the US on a fairly regular basis. Lists business travel… Hmm. Let me put this through the database and see if we can’t get his face associated with his tattoo.” He clicked another key. “This’ll take a minute.”

  “We can get eyes on him ourselves. Apparently, he’s coming to Washington on Monday,” Brian said.

  “We need to let Gage know we’ve got a new Rex Deus on American soil. It would be nice if we could drag this guy’s ass into a room and ask him a few questions about their organization.” Nutsbe typed as he spoke. “I’m sending Special Agent Prescott an email. I’ll cc Gage and Titus—they may want to get a protection detail on Dr. Kealoha while Cohen is here.”

  “This guy feels like he’s on a different task. I don’t think he cares much about Dr. Kealoha and microrobotics. Do you think Rex Deus might be Israel’s Iniquus?”

  “Hell, no. Can you see us doing anything like what they’ve been up to? I’m betting that Israel put together a black ops unit. They staged a catastrophe that took their special forces off grid, and now they’re being deployed in ways that can’t be sanctioned by the state. And I think that Israel is probably none too happy that we’ve already got hold of a dozen of their special boys.”

  “Interesting twist. Right now, we’ve got nothing on the guy beyond his training, his tattoo, and his long-term friendship with Nadia and Sophia,” Thorn said.

  “Nadia’s relationship with him goes beyond friendship—well, it did at one time. Seems like she’d like it to now as well,” Brian added.

  Nutsbe gave a thoughtful nod. “The plot thickens.”

  “What else have we got?” Thorn asked. “All these pages Nutsbe’s printed out from the women’s correspondence are what we’d expect to find. Checking up on people. Checking in. Warning folks to stay away from certain areas. Nothing we could take to court.”

  “Speaking of court, I found out why Sophia’s got a date in front of the judge in ten days. She’s trying to make a case for her children inheriting Grandma’s estate.”

  “Who’s making a claim?”

  “Betty Campbell. Matthew Campbell’s daughter.”

  “Matthew’s daughter, not Jane’s?” Thorn asked.

  “Right, this was an out of wedlock baby, born to a different mother well before Matthew and Jane married and had Hunter. Matthew and Jane had a typical will. If Jane died, Matthew got everything; if Matthew died, then Jane got everything. If they died at the same time their offspring would split everything. Betty wasn’t mentioned by name, only Hunter.”

  Thorn cocked his head to the side. “Sophia doesn’t want to split the estate with Betty?”

  “Matth
ew died first, leaving everything to Jane. Betty is not kin to Jane. Jane’s son is dead. Following the will, all of Jane’s possessions should go to Hunter’s offspring.”

  “Huh.” Thorn scratched his hand over his chin. “Do we know anything about Betty? Was she close to her dad? Not that it matters much.”

  “Betty has a rap sheet of petty crimes, mostly drunk and disorderly. She obtained her GED while in jail. There’s nothing in the database for the last six years. The lawyer who’s representing her is the kind who takes a major cut of the cake if you win and walks away with nothing if you lose. We all know that that makes them kind of rabid in the courtroom.”

  “Betty doesn’t have a case though, does she?” Brian said, thinking back to the reason Sophia told Nadia she wouldn’t leave the neighborhood. If it weren’t for 9/10ths rule, I’d be out of here in a heartbeat. She must be entrenched in that toxic atmosphere to preserve her children’s inheritance. He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Sophia, Brian here.” He tapped the button for speakerphone and laid it on Nutsbe’s desk.

  “Hey,” she said, then her voice became muffled. “Try that area there on the left-hand side of the screen.” Her voice came back louder. “How can I help you?”

  “One of the things we always do is run background on folks we’re watching over. We’re looking at security risks, and I just came across the name Betty Campbell with regards to you.”

  His pause was met with silence.

  “It says you two are headed to court. I’m just wondering if you feel threatened by the woman in any way. Is she a risk to your work that we need to spend time on?”

  “Betty’s my deceased husband’s half-sister. Why would you think she might be a risk to my work?”

  “The court documents say she wants to inherit your mother-in-law’s estate. I’d imagine it’s sizeable.”

  “It’s not like the Campbell’s were millionaires.” Sophia’s voice trailed off. “Betty wouldn’t be taking anything from me. I’m not in line to inherit.” Her voice cracked. Nutsbe turned the monitor so Brian could see that Sophia had wrapped a hand around her throat, her eyes wide with fear. “Do you think she might do something to hurt my sons?” she whispered.

  Brian immediately understood his mistake and wished he’d taken a less direct route. Asked Nadia. Done more digging on his own. “There’s no reason to think that. None. But I can tell I’ve made you nervous. I’m sorry. I’ll give it a thorough look, I promise—but I’m sure there’s nothing there. Can you tell me about her? How do you two get along?”

  “Betty was Matthew’s estranged daughter. Jane’s step-daughter. I’ve never met her.”

  “She never went to the funerals? Not even her dad’s funeral?”

  “No. I don’t think she had any contact with the family at all. I’m not even sure how she found out Jane died. She filed court papers that same week though.”

  “Do you know if she ever asked her dad for money as an adult?”

  “I heard stories about her as a rebellious teenager. She ran away from her mom’s house, played with drugs, was in and out of juvie. I can’t recall hearing anything about her as an adult. Matthew was in high school when Betty was born. He was way too young to parent.”

  “Do you have a photo of her?”

  “No. I went through all of Matthew and Jane’s things when I put them in storage. There’s not a single picture of her as a child or as an adult.”

  “Interesting.”

  Sophia had moved over to the arch separating the office from the kitchen and lay her head against the wooden molding. “Really? That’s your take on things?”

  “Wrong word. I meant I’m interested in how and why she feels entitled to your mother-in-law’s inheritance.”

  “Because Jane’s money came from her husband, Betty’s father. And because I’m under a perpetual shitstorm, and there’s no practical reason to expect a change in the forecast.” Sophia paused, then whispered, “Brian, you promise you’ll let me know if my kids are in danger?”

  Brian kept his tone light and unconcerned, hoping that would ease the stress he’d just put on Sophia’s shoulders. And here he was supposed to be pulling monkeys off her back, not adding to her distress. “I highly doubt there’s anything there, but I promise to follow up. I won’t let anything happen to your boys.”

  When he got off the phone Thorn and Nutsbe were staring at him.

  Brian said nothing.

  Nutsbe cleared his throat. “All righty then, now that that can of worms has been opened and Brian has pledged the safety of two children who are not listed on our contract, at least that promise will be short-lived. The judge should rule on the case Monday after next.”

  “Any chance she’ll lose?” Thorn asked.

  “We can run it through legal, if need be. On the surface, Betty’s grabbing at air. I’ll bet she’s going to make a pre-trial offer for x amount of money to just walk away. Virginia law says that Jane had to live a hundred and twenty hours longer than Matthew to inherit everything. And she definitely did that, so Matthew no longer has an estate. Sophia is being represented by Graham Danforth. A reputable lawyer. He’s not going to fall for any shenanigans.”

  “So this inheritance, it’s big enough that Sophia can dig out of her financial crisis?” Thorn asked.

  “The house, for sure. That title is clear. Sophia and the boys could continue to live there rent free. As far as the rest goes, assets have been listed, but they don’t have a numeric value, along with a daunting list of liabilities—again without any particulars. I assume Sophia and her lawyer will present that as evidence when they get to court. Betty’s lawyer didn’t file for discovery or do any of the things one would expect. Too bad, too. It leaves us in the dark. I bet Sophia’ll get out of this with the house and possibly something to pay the lawyer. Maybe make a dent in the debt mountain.”

  “Hopefully she can sell the place and move somewhere without that level of insanity,” Thorn said.

  Nutsbe pulled up a new screen. “You don’t think she’d just move on to a new catastrophe? She’s kind of a modern-day Calamity Jane.”

  “Except that Calamity Jane got her nickname because she was riding with her troop when their leader was shot, turned her horse around, rode up and caught the guy as he was falling from his saddle. She pulled him onto her horse and galloped his ass back to the fort, saving his life,” Thorn said.

  “Yeah—definitely not Calamity Jane.” Nutsbe turned to Brian. “Who am I thinking of?”

  “I don’t know, Typhoid Mary, maybe?”

  The computer pinged, and Nutsbe opened the new file. “It’s from research.” He took a moment to read. “I sent them Pierre and Marla Richards’s names to see if they could get anything on that looney tune.”

  Brian moved to read over Nutsbe’s shoulder. “They have Pierre Richards, but no Marla Richards associated. Too many Marla Richards’s in her age bracket in their database. None in the Northern Virginia area. More information required to process.”

  “We need her wallet,” Thorn said.

  “She’ll be easy to find. I put a GPS tracker on her car so the computer would alert me when she was near Sophia.” Brian pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the app. “She’s at home right now.”

  “I’ll follow up,” Nutsbe said. “I’m starting to get middle-aged spread from sitting behind this damned desk.” He tapped the alert button on his computer. “Sophia’s landline has an incoming Syrian phone call.”

  20

  Brian

  Friday p.m.

  “Sophia, we’re onsite.” The heavily accented voice was breathless and jubilant. “You wouldn’t believe what we have here. I’d say this area dates back to the Bronze Age, through maybe the classical period.”

  “How much damage would you estimate? I’m pulling up your coordinates now.”

  “Surface to air missile batteries. There are three armored vehicles dug in. We’ve uncovered an ammunitions bunker, but it doesn’t look like looters
have been given this area yet. We could try to excavate the site ourselves.” It was a male voice, struggling for air as if he were climbing and talking at the same time. “But to be honest, we may be targets for US bombs if we do. With this military apparatus around, they might mistake us for an active enemy.”

  “Why do you think ISIS dug in there and left?”

  The three Iniquus liaisons watched Sophia on Nutsbe’s screen.

  “It is a legitimate military position. Many of our finest archaeological sites are also valuable strategically. Civilizations at war have always sought the high ground. These archaeological tells are prime real estate for ISIS.”

  “I saw military movement in that area a while back. Did they abandon their equipment, do you think?”

  “Surely not. This puts us in limbo. Do I tell the forces who are fighting ISIS this equipment is here? Do I allow ISIS apparatus to remain, with the slim hope they will leave the tells and the relics alone? If I report it, there is a good likelihood the rebels will bomb the site. The artifacts would be at risk. I don’t know where to turn, what to do. You have the best access to satellite imagery, far better than what I have. What do you advise me to do, my friend?”

  “It will take me a minute to get to the right images. As I do that, I can tell you that on the ground, tanks were attacking Qalaat al-Madiq on Wednesday. The Syrian Observation Group for Human Rights said that twenty-one people died, four of them civilians. They’ve been shelling in Hama Province for seventeen days now. I’m guessing they’re trying to root out the rebels.”

  “What’s happening now?”

  “Hang on.” Sophia put the handset down and pushed the button for speaker. “Okay, it looks like the Syrian army’s been busy digging tanks into the top of Tell Kifa. The citadel would be a good vantage point to shoot at the lower town. Have you heard an update from Krak des Chevaliers?”

  “It is taking repeated air attacks. There is not much hope left for that area.”