Reading leaned back, relieved. “Thank bloody hell for that. Do we know how much time we have?”

  “Cameron says it would take a full day to drive there, but that doesn’t take into account using backroads, or how they’ll even get across the border. I doubt we’ll see James at the final destination before end of day tomorrow.”

  “Please tell me you’re going to leave Turkey and wait things out somewhere safer where you don’t run the risk of arrest?”

  “The gentleman I spoke to indicated I was free to leave. I don’t think there’s a risk of that anymore.”

  Reading’s eyes rolled back. “You’re a smart woman. He’s baiting you. If you try to leave, it makes you look guilty. If you stay, then he can pick you up at any time. I just spoke to Michelle and her contacts are telling her they’re still not sure about you, and the only reason they haven’t arrested you is because of your money and connections. I say get the hell out of there now. If they let you leave, then great, and if they don’t, then we’ll know the truth.”

  “I’m not coming home. Not with James still out there.”

  “I’m not suggesting that. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

  “The choices are pretty slim in this region. If I want to get closer to the action, about the only safe place would be Israel.”

  Reading shook his head. “No, I had something else in mind. Why don’t you go to Rome? Mario is there, and he can keep you completely wired in. From there you can be anywhere you need to be in the region within a couple of hours. You’ll be safe there.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll have Mary make the arrangements and let Mario know I’m coming.”

  “I’ve already taken care of Mario. He’s expecting you.”

  Laura chuckled. “Oh, I should have known I was being manipulated into your plan all along.”

  Reading laughed. “And you fell right into it. Now, call Mary, get your arse on that plane, and get to Rome as quickly as possible. The sooner you’re all out of Turkey, the sooner I can get some sleep.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Hugh, I’ll be fine.”

  “Famous last words. Now go. We’ll talk when you’re on the plane.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  Reading ended the call and turned to the others. “Well, that went better than I expected.”

  Mai agreed. “Probably because she knows Delta is going in to get him.”

  “Do you think they’ll let her leave?” asked Tommy.

  Reading sighed. “If I were in charge of the investigation, there’s no way in hell.”

  41 |

  Undisclosed Location Syria

  Sergeant Leon “Atlas” James held up a pair of tighty-whities hanging from the end of his M4. “Why are these hanging outside my window?”

  Sergeant Carl “Niner” Sung glanced over his shoulder at his massively muscled friend, then returned his attention to the binoculars he was peering through, monitoring Wagner Group activity. “What makes you think they’re mine?”

  “You’ve labeled them.”

  “What? You mean I wrote my name in them? I’m sure I wouldn’t be that stupid. What if I was captured? They give me one wedgie and they have my identity.”

  “Yeah, they’d be looking up who the hell Eugene Groebe is.”

  Sergeant Will “Spock” Lightman cocked an eyebrow. “Eugene Groebe? Where do I know that name from?”

  Command Sergeant Major Burt “Big Dog” Dawson chuckled. It was a tradition at the Unit to get together once a month and have a classic eighties movie night. One senselessly violent movie followed by a ridiculous comedy. It was an era where movies were movies. No political correctness run amok, just good ole entertainment. It was a great way to relieve stress and build camaraderie among this team of America’s elite. They were 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment—Delta, known to the public as the Delta Force, and each unit was a tight-knit group of men who would die for each other and their country without hesitation.

  They were family.

  They were brothers.

  “Joysticks,” said Niner.

  A round of “oh yeahs” circled their accommodations. Today they were in Syria, inserted a few days ago to monitor Wagner Group activity. Wagner were mostly Russian mercenaries, brutal bastards who had no morals. They had been used effectively in several regional conflicts, and there was concern they might be moved into Ukraine to cause havoc there with no Geneva Convention concerns. His team, along with several others, had been sent into Syria to monitor them for any signs they were being redeployed, and to pick up any chatter that might be floating about.

  “Jimmy, wasn’t it your dad that recommended that one?” asked Atlas behind him.

  Sergeant Gerry “Jimmy Olsen” Hudson replied. “Yup. You know, he said when he first saw that as a teenager, he thought the graphics in the video game were incredible.”

  “He was a gamer?”

  “He went to arcades. Apparently, 1943 was his game.”

  Niner cooed. “I’ve played that on an emulator. Fun. That movie? Not so much.”

  Atlas’ deep voice rumbled across the room as he tossed the underwear at Niner. “Then it’s agreed. Jimmy’s dad can’t recommend movies anymore.” He settled into position. “That still doesn’t explain why you labeled your underwear.”

  “I didn’t want to get them mixed up with yours.”

  Snickers filled the room.

  “What?”

  Jimmy laughed. “Dude, those tiny little things you wear wouldn’t even get over the big man’s foot.”

  Sergeant Eugene “Jagger” Thomas snorted. “If you wore Atlas’, you could pull them up over your shoulders like Borat.”

  Atlas roared. “Now that I’d pay to see. I’ll take them off right here, right now if you say you’ll do it.”

  Niner gave him a look. “You just want to see me naked.”

  “You’ll still have your shirt on, little man, and besides, there’s nothing of yours I haven’t seen before.”

  Niner grinned at him. “Ooh, I didn’t think you were watching.”

  Spock sighed. “Dude, half the damn base has seen your dangler.”

  Jagger laughed. “Remember the time you two disappeared for two days and Spaz put up missing persons posters in the barracks for you?”

  Niner groaned. “He didn’t put up posters of us. He had side-by-side dick-pics.”

  Atlas chuckled. “I forgot about that. Man, Spaz was always doing crazy shit.”

  “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but the bastard put up a picture of a micro-penis with my name above it.”

  “You mean that wasn’t you?”

  Niner flipped him the bird over his shoulder as he continued peering through his binoculars. “What, and that other thing was supposed to be you?”

  Atlas shrugged. “I thought it was a little small, to be honest.”

  Dawson rolled his eyes. “You do realize how much shit Spaz got into for that? He’s just lucky I spotted the posters and got most of them down before the wrong person saw them. It’s the modern army, gentlemen. You can’t be putting shit like that up.”

  Niner stuck his tongue out at him. “You’re no fun.”

  “I keep you guys employed by saving you from yourselves. Sometimes it’s like babysitting teenagers on a school trip.”

  “And we thank you for it, BD,” said Jimmy.

  Atlas held up a finger. “Wait, where do we stand on Niner wearing my underwear?”

  Dawson’s earpiece squawked and he held up a fist, silencing the room.

  “Zero-One, Control Actual. Come in, over.”

  Dawson’s eyebrows rose. It was unusual for Colonel Clancy himself to come on the line. “This is Zero-One. Go ahead.”

  “We’ve got new orders for you, Zero-One. You’re never going to guess who called the direct line to my desk earlier.”

  “Your sister-in-law?”

  Snickers in the room and laughter on the other end of the line. “No, but good guess. Professor Palmer. Her husband has been kidnapped, and they believe he’s being taken into Syria to find some ancient burial site. I’ve sent all the details as we know them to your secure messenger. Your team is being reassigned to Langley. They’ll be Control for this op.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good luck, Zero-One. Go get our man. Control Actual, out.”

  Dawson smiled slightly. Clancy had referred to Acton as one of the team. In a way, the professors were. They were definitely family, and they had fought side-by-side on too many occasions to not count them as comrades in arms. He pulled out his tablet as his comms squawked again, this time replaced by Leroux’s voice, a man he had worked with many times.

  “Zero-One, Control Actual. Do you read, over?”

  “Affirmative, Control.”

  “Good to be working with you again. Have you had a chance to review the intel package?”

  Dawson opened the folder. “Negative. I’ve just brought it up. I assume you have our current location?”

  “Affirmative. Your destination isn’t too far from where you are. You have local transportation?”

  “Yes, but travel isn’t advisable unless absolutely necessary.”

  “We need you to get about seventy klicks to the southwest. That’s where we believe Acton will be by end of day tomorrow.”

  Dawson’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, how do you know where he’s going to be tomorrow, but you don’t know where he is today?”

  “Read the package, Zero-One. It explains everything. You’re going to love this one. Control, out.”

  Dawson brought up the summary written by one of Leroux’s analysts, and his eyebrows shot up.

  “What’s going on, BD?” asked Atlas.

  Dawson shook his head slowly. “You’re not going to believe this shit, but apparently we might be about to meet Jesus Christ.”

  42 |

  Great Palace of Constantinople Constantinople, Eastern Roman Empire AD 1071

  “Your husband has failed.”

  Eudokia glared at Caesar John Doukas, accompanied by his coconspirator, Michael Psellos, the two men having barged into the throne room with dozens of their own guards. This was the situation she had struggled to avoid, yet the reports of the defeat in Manzikert were simply too much to overcome.

  The coup was inevitable, and today, apparently, was to be its day.

  The story spread by the traitorous Andronicus Doukas was that Romanus had faltered in battle, and the men had fled in the mistaken belief that their emperor was dead. The truth was far more sinister. Accounts of the fight from those loyal to her husband indicated that a flag on the battlefield had been misinterpreted by some as a signal that Romanus had fallen, and that Andronicus had capitalized on that, spreading the word among the soldiers that it was true, then ordered their retreat from the front.

  With a significant portion of his forces gone, Romanus was left with diminished numbers to face the massive enemy force. He fought valiantly, though ultimately in vain. He had been captured and disgraced when the Seljuk Sultan Alp Arslan placed his foot on her husband’s neck in ritual humiliation. He was then treated like a king, and a significant ransom was negotiated. Her husband had apparently been released and was on his way home, though without his armies, and without his honor.

  He might yet survive this, if she managed the situation properly.

  She rose. “He failed because Andronicus betrayed him.”

  “Nonsense. Your husband fell in battle and Andronicus ordered the retreat to preserve the army from slaughter.”

  “Yet my husband lives.”

  “We know that now.”

  She sneered. “Andronicus knew that then.”

  John grunted. “For enough gold, anyone will tell you what you want to hear. I choose to believe Andronicus, and regardless of what the truth is, your husband, our glorious emperor, was not only captured, but humiliated. And now we are forced to pay not only a large lumpsum ransom, but an annual payment as well.”

  “A pittance to secure the release of one’s emperor.”

  “He’s no longer my emperor.”

  “Nor mine,” said Psellos.

  She regarded the pathetic example of a man. “I couldn’t care less what you think.” She returned her attention to John, the greater threat in the room, as Psellos’ cheeks flushed. “You dare challenge your emperor?”

  “Like I said, he is no longer my emperor. My men are inside the palace, they hold all the key grounds, and most of our citizens believe Romanus is dead. It is time to settle this situation once and for all.”

  “And just how are we to settle this?”

  “In a manner that I believe you will find quite satisfactory.”

  Her heart hammered, yet she kept her fear hidden. She could be about to die, and she intended to maintain her dignity. But more importantly, her children could be about to meet the sword. “Speak.”

  “Nobody will die here today, as long as you cooperate.”

  She relaxed slightly, though her heart still raced. “Continue.”

  “You will step down as empress and retire to a monastery. Your husband, when he returns, will do the same.”

  “You expect an emperor to retire to such a life?”

  John smirked. “And your son, Michael, co-emperor with your husband, will, today, declare Romanus deposed. This will in effect make Michael emperor, your intention all along if you are to be believed, and Romanus merely a defeated general, returning home in humiliation. What better way to avoid such enduring humiliation by retiring out of the sight of the people he once ruled?”

  She steadied her breathing as her mind raced. If John were to be trusted, which she doubted he could be, then no one would die, and in exile, Romanus could perhaps gather his supporters and retake the throne. Yet was that what she really wanted? Her intention all along was for Michael to be emperor, to lead the empire as he was destined to. For now, all she wanted was for Romanus to survive these events, and perhaps they could be reunited in time as husband and wife. With her son emperor, they could perhaps one day return to the palace, and if not, at least live a good, happy life, away from the trials and tribulations the halls of power brought.

  “What say you?”

  She frowned. “I agree.” She raised a finger before John’s smile could spread too far. “Provisionally.”

  Psellos growled. “What nonsense is this?”

  She ignored the man, keeping her eyes on John. “Silence your dog lest I perceive him to be master here.”

  John’s eyes flared and he whispered something to Psellos, who glared at him but took a step back nonetheless.

  “Good. I will retire to a monastery of my choice, with a reasonable staff to see to my needs, and a stipend to allow me to live a lifestyle suitable to a woman of means. In exchange, I will withdraw completely from public life, and will only return to the palace should I be invited by the emperor. Agreed?”

  John bowed slightly. “Agreed.”

  “I will instruct Michael to declare Romanus deposed, on the condition that he is made emperor, with only his brother as co-emperor. My children with Romanus will not be co-emperors. There will be no regents, and he will lead the empire as a true emperor. In the four years that have passed since Romanus took the throne, Michael has matured rapidly, and his training is complete. Agreed?”

  Another bow. “Agreed.”

  “And as to my husband, he is to be presented your offer, and should he accept, then he should be provided the same provisions I have stipulated for his life in exile. But, should he not agree, and he challenges you for the throne, any agreement made here today concerning myself and my sons still stand. Agreed?”

  John bowed deeply. “Agreed. Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, Eudokia, let us talk to Michael and put an end to the Diogenes line of ascension, and restore the Doukai line to its rightful place.”

  43 |

  Leonardo da Vinci International Airport Fiumicino, Italy Present Day

  Laura shivered as she stepped off her private jet and onto the tarmac. It was dark now, the day’s heat already radiated off the concrete, and she was still dressed for the warmer Istanbul. She smiled as Giasson stepped out of an SUV with Vatican diplomatic markings.

  “Laura, so good to see you again. I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  Laura gave him the traditional double-cheek kiss then a hug. “Good to see you too. How’s the family?”

  “Good. The girls keep growing. Soon they’ll be old enough to hate me.”

  Laura chuckled. “Deep down, they’ll still love their father.” She became serious as they headed into the charter terminal. “Anything new from your end?”

  Giasson shook his head. “Not much. We’ve determined that the courier that delivered the warning didn’t work for the company the envelope indicated, and that they had no delivery in their system addressed to me at that time.”

  “Did you get them on camera?”

  “Nothing useful. They seemed to know where every camera was, wore a hoodie with sunglasses, not to mention gloves. We couldn’t even pull fingerprints from a door if we wanted to.”

  “Seems like they knew the place inside and out.”

  Giasson grunted as he opened the door for her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he worked ten feet away from me.”

  Laura eyed him. “You don’t trust your own people?”

  “You forget, one of my own was heavily involved with them. He lied to me for years.”

  Laura sighed. “That’s the thing about groups like these. They can be anywhere, anyone. What precautions are you taking?”

  “There’s nothing more I can really do. I have to trust my people, and at the moment, we’re not interfering. You are.”

  She pursed her lips. “The moment I step onto Vatican grounds, they might change their opinion on that.”

  Giasson frowned. “I had thought of that, however I don’t want some cult dictating what I can and cannot do. The Vatican is sovereign territory and will not be dictated to by the Keepers of the One Truth.”

 

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