“Hey, everyone,” Kai said, waving with his good hand. “Welcome to my room.”
“So,” Nasim began, focusing solely on Estelle. “Why are we here?”
Estelle took a breath, folding her hands on the table, then resting them on her lap. “Before we get to that, I need to ask you something.”
Even as Nasim was nodding, Rick said, “Who is Ibis?”
They had planned this out. Estelle would make the overture, then Rick would spring the question while her guard was still down, before Nasim had a chance to fully prepare herself. He had no doubt she was a capable liar, but there would still be that split-second of openness as her brain shifted gears and she reacted genuinely, if unconsciously, to the question.
“Ibis,” Nasim said slowly, looking from Estelle to Rick and Kai, “is the man who hired Mr. Álvarez and Mr. Villeneuve to steal the Ark of the Covenant. At least, that’s what Booker tells me.”
Damn it. Leave it to Hopkins to ruin everything. Rick studied her face, trying to see through the carefully composed mask. It remained opaque.
Estelle looked as off-balance as he felt. She glanced at Rick, who could only shrug, then turned to Nasim. “Oh. Well, yes. I -- I hadn’t realized that Booker had already told you.”
“Were you trying to determine if I knew this man’s true identity?” Nasim asked blithely.
Rick, Kai, and Estelle all exchanged uneasy glances. This was not going at all the way they’d planned. Estelle nodded, now looking hopeless. “I thought -- I mean, I was worried --”
“That Radical Dynamics had something to do with your father’s death. That I might have orchestrated it, along with the other murders that Booker told me about.”
“Jesus,” Rick blurted, rounding on Hopkins. “Are all FBI agents this chatty?”
“Booker is no longer an agent of the FBI,” Nasim informed them. “He’s now my private security consultant.”
This was met with a stunned silence. Estelle was staring at Booker. “You are?”
Booker nodded. He didn’t look like he’d yet decided how to feel about it. “We talked. About the murders, your dad’s fears before his death. Ibis, somehow having his notes and using them to go after the Ark. It all has to be connected.”
“And we both agree,” Nasim continued, “that Pharos must be that connection. Someone, some group, has been abusing the project. Exploiting our access to valuable artifacts for their own gain and killing to hide their trail.” Her expression darkened. “This cannot be allowed to continue or go unpunished. On that, we also agree. So I hired Booker, as the only person to have recognized the pattern and put the pieces together, to continue his investigation on my behalf.”
Estelle looked to Booker, frowning. “But -- I thought you were going to talk to the FBI?”
“I did.”
“And?”
He shrugged. “They didn’t care.” He paused. “Actually, they pretty much fired me.”
Estelle blinked. “Oh,” she said softly.
“Which is for the best,” Nasim said. “No offense, Booker. But this is something that needs to be dealt with internally.”
Rick snorted. “Oh, right, because there’s absolutely no conflict of interest in a corporation investigating itself.”
“If you think for a second that I do not take these crimes incredibly seriously,” Nasim said, turning to him stiffly, “then you are even dumber than Booker led me to believe.”
“Hey!”
“I will find who is responsible,” she continued. “And they will be handed over to the authorities. Putting a stop to this is more important than you can imagine.”
“Agreed,” Estelle said. “But Rick is right. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Nasim, but how we have no idea how deep this thing goes. If Ibis is working with others in Pharos, what good will an internal investigation be?.”
“You’re right,” Nasim said. “Which is why Booker has sole control of this investigation. He is as neutral a third-party as I could hope for. He has no ties to Radical Dynamics or Pharos. His search will be uncompromised and unwavering. He has already shown himself to be incredibly dedicated to uncovering the truth behind this matter. Wherever it leads him, I will follow.”
Estelle turned to Booker. “And you’re ok with this?”
Again he shrugged. “The Bureau is a dead end. I’m done slamming my head against that wall. This is the best way to get justice for your dad.”
“In the meantime,” Nasim said, turning her attention to Rick and Kai, “I would like to hire your services as well.”
“You would?” Kai asked.
“Yes. It is imperative that the Ark of the Covenant be located, before Ibis or his ilk can lay their hands on it.”
Another silence. “It is?” Estelle asked cautiously.
Nasim nodded. “Imperative, not just for the preservation of Ethiopian culture, but for the preservation of Pharos as well. Whoever has committed these crimes is clearly willing to do whatever it takes to get their hands on the Ark. The best way to stop them, to flush them out into the open, is to remove the Ark from the board. Since I can no longer trust anyone in Pharos to do the job, I’m left with the people in this room. This is my offer: To buy out your contract with this Ibis. Whatever he’s paying you, I can multiply it ad infinitum. Whatever the professional ramifications of terminating your contract, I can shield you from them. Whatever resources you need to find the Ark, I can provide.”
Nobody seemed to know how to respond to this, Rick least of all. It was, technically, the arrangement that they had been hoping to propose, but all three of them had been gearing up for a hard time of convincing Nasim that finding the Ark was still the right thing to do. Instead, they were being recruited. It signified a shift in the power dynamic that he wasn’t at all comfortable with, and he found himself rebelling against hearing his own sales pitch being thrown back at him.
“You know what?” he said, breaking the spell that Nasim had placed over the room. “I think we’re good.”
Both Estelle and Kai looked up at him sharply. “Ah, Rick,” Kai said, “you wanna rethink that?”
“No, I don’t. We’re not corporate stooges, Kai. We’re the sort of people Radical Dynamics and Nasim al-Faradi eat for breakfast.”
“Please do not assume to know me,” Nasim said coolly. “Or my company. Whatever assumptions you’re carrying, I can assure you that they’re wrong.”
“And you don’t know me,” he shot back. “Or Kai. So if you think you can just come in and buy our loyalty --”
“Rick,” Estelle said earnestly. “Please. This is what we wanted. Don’t let your pride get in the way.”
“This has nothing to do with my pride! I have no pride! Kai, tell her about my pride!”
Kai, however, merely sighed and settled back into his bed. “Way I see it, I’m going to be on the bench for most of this, so I’m not really a guy with an opinion right now. But -- we should do it, Rick. You should do it.”
“We need to do this,” Estelle said.
“It’s your best option,” Hopkins added.
Rick jabbed a finger at him. “Nobody asked you, ex-FBI man.” He gave an exasperated sigh, turning his back to the room so he wouldn’t need to see everyone watching him. Looking at him knowingly, backing him into a corner with their stares. They knew he was going to agree, and he knew he was going to agree. He just liked being the first one to know it.
He spun back to Nasim. “Fine. But I have conditions.”
“Name them,” she said at once.
Rick began to count off on his fingers. “Kai’s medical expenses. Totally covered, including top-shelf tissue regeneration therapy and whatever else he needs to get back on his feet. I’m talking 110%.”
“Alright.”
“Also, we were both brought onto this job with the promise of fifty million each. I want that bumped up to a hundred.”
“Very well.”
Rick paused. “Actually, make that five hundred.”
He frowned at her. “A billion?”
Nasim smiled. “If that is the highest number you can think of.”
It’s the smugness, he decided. The way she so effortlessly let you know that she knew that you were so very far beneath her. But… he nodded. “And I want any criminal charges dropped.”
“I can’t promise that,” Hopkins said. He smiled sardonically. “Ex-FBI man, remember?”
“Don’t be petulant, I’m sure you can figure out something.”
“Done,” Nasim said.
Everyone stared at her. There wasn’t a hint of joke or uncertainty on her face. “You are scary,” Rick said.
“Is that it, then? Are we finished?” She was clearly growing weary of negotiations. Rick looked to Kai and Estelle, and they all nodded. “Good. But I have a condition as well. Estelle, I want you to come back to Paris with me tonight.”
She blinked. “What? No, I’m going to help Rick find the Ark.”
“Estelle, you’ve already been injured and nearly died multiple times. You’re my responsibility. I can’t let you place yourself in harm’s way again.”
“Fine. Then I quit. Now I’m not your responsibility anymore.”
Nasim smiled, the expression warming her face. “I refuse your resignation. And even if I accepted it, that wouldn’t absolve me. Your father lost his life to this quest. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you, too.”
“But --” Estelle seemed at a momentary loss. She shook her head. “But Rick can’t get the Ark on his own. He needs a partner, and Kai isn’t going anywhere. And you can’t recruit anyone else from Pharos because, like you said, we can’t trust anyone outside this room.”
There was a pause in the debate as both sides considered the other’s points. Rick watched Estelle’s determined face, feeling himself grudgingly like her more and more.
Then Hopkins stepped forward, and Rick’s stomach dropped. Oh no.
“I’ll go with him.”
“Nope,” Rick said at once. “Not necessary, thanks. I’d prefer Estelle. She’s got stronger arms. Won’t even notice Kai’s missing.”
“That works,” Nasim said, completely ignoring him.
“No, it really doesn’t!” Estelle was on her feet now and looking furious. “I am not going back to Paris until I’m done with this. If it wasn’t for me, none of you would even know where to find the Ark!”
“She’s right,” Rick said. “Totally unfair.”
“How about a compromise, then?” Hopkins said. “Rick and I will find the Ark, while Estelle and Nasim stay here? Once we’ve found it, we can all regroup.”
“I can work with that,” Nasim said.
Rick threw up his arms. “I feel like we’re all missing the point: I don’t want Hopkins watching my back.”
“Why not?” Nasim asked him calmly. “He has FBI training, even if he’s no longer an agent. I’d say that makes him more qualified than anyone else in this room.”
“Trust me,” Hopkins said. “I’d really rather not go. But someone needs to stay with Kai, right? Would you rather it be me or Estelle?”
Rick opened his mouth and found himself at a loss. Hopkins had him there. Damn it.
“Fine. Fine, it’s -- fine.” He turned to Estelle. “Fine?”
Her jaw was set, her fists clenched. But she could recognize a hopeless case as well as he could. She nodded. “Fine.”
“Ok, then.” Hopkins looked almost as unenthused as Rick was. “So where are we going?”
Searching for signal…
Searching for signal…
Secure link established…
Encryption enabled…
X: What the fuck is happening down there? You said this was going to put us ahead by decades, now it’s turning into a God damned trainwreck.
I: There have been some complications, but the assets are still in play. The Ark is still within reach.
X: Don’t fucking lie to me. The assets are out of your control, they’re not even working for you anymore. And now the whole God damned Ethiopian army is crawling all over the country. This was supposed to be a quick in-and-out job, picking up where K left off.
I: Calm down. The assets are doing their job, even if we’re no longer on friendly terms. They’re still looking. And when they find it, we’ll be there to collect it.
X: Don’t tell me to calm down, and don’t talk out your ass like it’s the fucking gospel. I know she’s there. I know they’re working for her now. Your Dollar Store spycraft might work on thugs and thieves, but it won’t work on her. You’re not going to be able to sneak anything out from under her nose. You’ve led her right to it and fucked us all. Was that your plan this entire time?
I: My plan was and remains simple: Get the Ark.
X: HOW
I: There’s a war going on in this country. War breeds opportunity.
X: God fucking damn it I hate your fucking God damned riddles. Just speak straight for once in your miserable old life.
I: Keep watching. Things are already in motion. As soon as our boys turn up the Ark, it’ll fall into your lap. And then we can discuss your attitude adjustment.
X: Attitude adjustment? I’ll adjust your fucking --
Connection closed
Twenty-Seven
Lake Tana
Amhara, Ethiopia
Booker and Rick caught a bus down to Lake Tana the next day. It was just short of an hour’s drive. They travelled through countryside that was as lush and verdant as the northern highlands had been desolate. Here the water was flowing to a fault -- farmland had become floodplains, and at several points the bus encountered washed out bridges and was forced to detour downriver to where the waters were less engorged and a temporary crossing had been set up. Booker watched nervously through the window each time they made one of these perilous crossings, but Rick and the other passengers hardly seemed to notice.
“Staring at the water like that’s not going to change its mind,” Rick said as the bus tottered across the third rickety scaffold of their trip. “If the river decides to gobble us up, it’s gonna happen.”
“Thank you for those words of encouragement.” But Booker pulled his gaze from the window anyway. All he was doing was earning himself an ulcer. He glanced over at Rick, who sat beside him with his head down. He’d been writing in a paper notebook for much of the drive. “Keeping a journal?”
Rick didn’t look up. “Replacing my notes. The old ones are currently ash somewhere in what used to be K’ebero’s compound.”
Booker leaned over. “Research?”
Rick snapped the notebook shut and gave him an irritated look. “Do you mind?”
“Sorry,” Booker muttered, settling back into his seat. “Just trying to make some conversation.” He glanced out the window again. They were nearing the end of the crossing, the river a swirling expanse of chocolate-brown water and eddies capped with white foam. “This doesn’t bother you at all?”
Rick grunted. “I’ve spent most of my life one wrong step from being drowned, crushed, shot, blown up, or infected with a ten-mile-long tapeworm.” He gave the bus and its occupants a cursory glance. “At least we’re sitting down. And there’s air conditioning.”
“You grew up in Houston, right? It’s in your file,” Booker explained, as Rick’s shoulders stiffened and he stopped writing.
“The Feds have a file on me?”
“Sure. As a CDZ refugee.”
“Oh. Right.” He relaxed a bit and continued writing. “How could I have forgotten about my wonderful time spent in the magical kingdom of CDZ Refugee Processing Tent #12?”
Booker actually snorted at that. “I can’t imagine it was a picnic.”
“It was not.”
“How bad was it in Houston?”
“Real fun. We’d get together every Sunday, have a cookout, prance around the maypole and braid daisies into each other’s hair.”
Ten, nine, eight… Booker opened his eyes once
he’d reached zero and took a breath. “Ok. You don’t want to talk about it? That’s fine.” He leaned over, dropping his voice. “But we both technically work for the same employer now. If we’re going to get this thing done, then we need to be able to manage effective communication.”
Rick slowly closed his notebook and looked up, wearing the expression of a patient schoolboy. “Alright, Hopkins. Please. Communicate. I am all ears.”
“I know you don’t like me. I’m not crazy about you either. But we’re on the same side. You get that, right?”
“Of course. If I didn’t,” Rick said with a sharp smile, “I wouldn’t be sharing this bus with you.”
“I just need to know that you’re actually going to work with me on this. That there will be some genuine cooperation.” He lowered his voice even more. “You want to find the Ark before Ibis? Put an end to all those killings? Then you need my help, like it or not.”
“I understand the situation, Hopkins. I’m not a child. Pull your own weight and we should be able to wrap this up without coming to blows.” Rick lowered his voice to match Booker’s. “But, just so we’re clear: This is my world. You follow my lead. I don’t want to hear any complaining about ethics or legality or any of that bullshit. Do what I tell you, when I tell you, and everything will be fine. We’ll get the Ark, you’ll find your killer, Nasim will route the rats from her company, and Estelle will get some closure. Everyone wins.” He paused, frowning lightly. “I do have one question, though.”
“What?”
“How much, exactly, did you sell your soul for?”
Booker blinked. “What’re you talking about?”
“I mean, I was never a fan of anything preceded by Federal, but even I recognize that being a Special Agent has to be better than Nasim al-Faradi’s personal attack dog. So what’d she offer? Unlimited PTO? Kick-ass healthcare? A company car?” Rick rested his chin in one hand, suddenly looking incredibly interested. “What does it cost to make an FBI agent go rogue?”
A Covenant of Thieves Page 49
