Shadow Zone (23 page)

“That’s quite clear,” Kirov said. “And since that’s the case, I’d better take my leave. I’m not . . . myself at the moment.” He turned and strode toward the door. “Which means I’m tempted to drag you down to the floor and make you listen in the most basic way possible. But I’m a civilized man.” He whirled to face her as he reached the door. His face was flushed and his eyes blazing. He didn’t look civilized. He was radiating pure male lust. She had never seen him like that before. “And as a civilized man, I’ll let you have your space and go my way. It’s still going to happen, but you’ve chosen to put both of us through hell until it does. If you want me, call me. I promise I won’t try to seduce you. I’ll let you seduce me. I’ve no qualms about sexual persuasion. I’d enjoy it.” He opened the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hannah.”

She stared at the door as it closed behind him. Was she an idiot? Lord, she had wanted to go to bed with him. Her body was still swollen, aching. She wanted to run after him and tell him that . . .

Pride and self-will were all very well, but neither was going to keep her from being in a fever whenever she looked at him from now on.

She was not an idiot. Whatever relationship she might have with Kirov, it couldn’t begin without absolute honesty and knowing exactly where she intended to go. She had to be true to herself.

Dammit.

Bergerac, France

Gadaire drove down the gravel road that would take him to the long-abandoned vineyard that had belonged to his grandfather. By all accounts, the wine produced there had always been mediocre at best, but his grandfather had been savvy enough to “incentivize”—bribe—the local tour guides to steer their groups of palate-challenged tourists to the main house for tastings. There the gregarious and bosomy servingwomen would seal the deal by taking orders for scores of cases each day. After his grandfather’s death, however, no one had picked up the torch, and the vineyard had become an overgrown eyesore.

But now, after all these years, it was serving some purpose again.

Gadaire followed the road around to the rear of the main house. He parked next to the small trailer that housed a roaring power generator. He climbed out of his car and entered the building through a cracked and peeling door.

Dr. Timothy Hollis called out from across the large concrete-floored storage room. “Mr. Gadaire, good to meet you.”

Hollis was a thin man with shoulder-length black hair. With loosened tie, rolled-up sleeves, and sweat-stained shirt, he had obviously been working inside for quite a while. Gadaire wondered what his associates at the Louvre would think if they saw their respected curator now.

Gadaire shook his hand. “Sorry I’m not Anna. I know you’re disappointed. She was tied up with business out of the country. And I trust that the rather spartan work environment hasn’t been too much of an impediment.”

“It’s been very peaceful. And believe me, I can understand the need for privacy. I’m honored to be given the opportunity to work with such a valuable find.”

“Even one you can never talk about?”

Hollis quickly ran his hands through his perspiration-soaked hair. “My findings from this trellis have given us many answers we’ve been looking for. With those answers in mind, I can go out and find other evidence that supports them. I won’t need the trellis once I’ve done that.”

Gadaire nodded. “It could put you years ahead of Melis Nemid or any other researcher.”

“Which means more grants and more resources to continue my work. Trust me, it’s very difficult to get Marinth research funding if your name isn’t Melis Nemid. This project may be a secret, but it’s still an amazing opportunity for me.”

“Good. I’m anxious to see your findings.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” Hollis motioned for Gadaire to follow him to the other side of the large room. “Let me show you what I’ve been doing here.”

They walked toward the other end of what was once the winery’s main tasting area. Gadaire looked at several shallow trays, each filled with a different-colored liquid. Next to each were small molded pieces in the same hue.

“What’s this?”

“The trellis is missing dozens of pieces of jewels, quartz, and colored glass. It was quite a job to reconstruct it. In some instances, there are enough remaining fragments for me to know exactly what color to replace the missing pieces with. In other cases, I had to look for interactions in the surrounding stone framework.”

“Are the colors really that important?”

“Yes. Some figures in the Marinthian language can have a drastically different meaning depending on the color they are written in, so color is crucial.”

Gadaire glanced at the trays on the floor. “So you used these to fabricate replacement pieces?”

“Yes, out of polyurethane. I’ve come up with an extremely accurate re-creation.”

“So where is it?”

Hollis smiled. “It was made to be viewed outdoors, with the sun shining through it. I thought you should see the full effect.”

Hollis motioned toward the crumbling double doors that led toward an enclosed patio where tasters had once enjoyed their wine outside. As Gadaire followed him, he saw that the trellis was now suspended between a pair of six-foot platforms. The multicolored panels were now brightly illuminated by the afternoon sun, taking on a breathtaking glow.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Hollis looked at Gadaire, then the trellis. “This is exactly how it looked during the final days of Marinth.”

“Stunning,” Gadaire said. He looked down at the white-tiled patio and caught his breath. “But nothing like that. Oh, my God.”

Gadaire was staring at the colorful mosaic that the sun and trellis had projected onto the patio. The razor-sharp image and vibrant colors literally left him speechless. He shook his head in amazement.

Hollis pointed to the projected image. “These were all over Marinth, but this one was special. It was the work of an educator, a scientist, who discovered too late what caused Marinth’s downfall.”

“But were there specifics?”

Hollis smiled and knelt beside the projected image. “Right here.” He ran his hands over a small, narrow, green and yellow symbol in one corner of the image. “This is one of my reconstructed pieces which turned out to be the most important part.”

“What does it mean?”

Hollis handed Gadaire a sheaf of papers. “My final report. It’s all there. I’ve included high-resolution photographs of the projected image, along with my symbol-by-symbol translation of the message. Melis Nemid herself couldn’t have done a better job for you.”

Gadaire quickly shuffled through the papers, paying particular attention to the last two pages. He looked up with a start. “You’re absolutely positive about this?”

“No doubt. It’s exactly what you were looking for, isn’t it?”

Gadaire let his hands fall to his sides. “This is better than I even dared to dream.”

“I thought you would be pleased.”

Gadaire smiled. “You thought correctly. You deserve a handsome bonus, Dr. Hollis.”

“I wouldn’t refuse one if offered.” He grinned. “Though I would enjoy it much more if it was delivered by the lovely Anna.”

“She is lovely, isn’t she? And so interested in you. You wouldn’t believe how much in depth we discussed your successful completion of the project.”

Hollis’s face lit. “Really? What did she say?”

“I’ve no time to tell you everything.” Gadaire reached into his jacket. “But believe me, she would have loved to deliver this herself.”

He pulled out a semiautomatic handgun and fired four times into Hollis’s chest.

Aviva Stadium
Dublin, Ireland

Driscoll and Charlie sat inside their van two blocks from the stadium. A game was under way, and the cloudy night sky was ablaze with the arena lights.

Driscoll chuckled as Charlie unfolded the refrigeration unit schematic. “If you don’t have it down cold by now, we’re in trouble.”

“Cold? Is that a pun? I have it, don’t you worry. Just a refresher. I just hope your friend was able to upload that virus to the stadium power system.”

“He said it was taken care of last night, and I believe him. He’s never let me down before.”

“There’s always a first time.”

“You’re right about that, son. But if you surround yourself with good people, you increase your odds. I’m more worried about my telephone guy. All automated maintenance alert calls to the service center are supposed to be intercepted and routed to me here. If it doesn’t work, we could find ourselves bumping into the
real
service team. That could be awkward.”

“I have a question.” Charlie glanced up from the schematics. “Why on earth did you make this your career? I figure most thieves do it because they’re lazy. But this is harder than any work I’ve done in my life.”

Driscoll smiled. “I didn’t do it because it was easy. You’re right, it’s hard work. And if you don’t do it right, you’ll spend years of your life in prison.”

“Then why do it?”

Driscoll looked out the windshield for a long moment. “When you grow up in Bray like I did, people have a habit of looking down their nose at you. Shop owners, bankers, pretty much everyone. I think in the beginning, it made me feel smarter than them. However much they tried, they couldn’t stop me from taking whatever I wanted. Makes you feel kind of powerful, you know?”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah.”

“But you’re not. It’s fun, and you get a bit of a thrill. But in the end, you’re just a parasite, leaching off someone else’s accomplishments. Once you realize that, it’s a hell of a lot less fun.”

“But you did it for a long time.”

Driscoll shrugged. “I was good at it. Doesn’t mean I always liked it.” He patted Charlie’s arm. “This security job we have lined up, though, that’s my idea of fun. Good money, and we’ll be helping to catch the parasites.”

“You won’t feel like a rat turning on your own kind?”

“My own kind? Most of ’em are dirtbags, and don’t you forget it. It’s all part of the game, my boy. The smarter we are, the smarter they’ll have to be. And I have a secret for you, most of ’em aren’t very smart.”

Driscoll’s mobile phone rang, and he checked the caller ID tag. “This is it. Gadaire’s refrigeration system is reporting a malfunction.” He smiled at Charlie. “We’re on.”

Driscoll started the van and drove around to the stadium’s security entrance. He pulled up to the guard booth and spoke to the uniformed guard. “Safe It Systems. We’re here for an emergency repair on a refrigeration unit in one of the owners’ suites. Security knows we’re coming.”

The young man in the booth picked up a phone and talked to someone for a few seconds. He started filling out a drive-on pass even before he hung up the phone.

He reached in and placed the pass on the dashboard in front of Driscoll. “Okay, go up the ramp, turn right, and drive until you see the signs for service and catering parking. Go to level three, suite four. Security will be waiting there to let you into the suite.”

“Thanks.”

They followed his directions, parked, and unloaded the van. They each carried large toolboxes, and Charlie pulled a small trunk on wheels behind him.

“So far, so good,” Charlie whispered, as they walked up the main concourse.

“We’re not done yet.” Driscoll glanced around as the crowd cheered a goal. “Keep your wits about you.”

They approached the entrance to Gadaire’s suite just as a blue-blazered security officer arrived. “We would appreciate it if you could make this fast,” the officer said. “Mr. Gadaire doesn’t like anyone to have access to his suite when he’s not here.”

“Won’t be a problem,” Driscoll said. “His refrigeration unit sent us a diagnostic report, so we know exactly what needs to be done.”

They entered the dark suite, and the guard flipped the light switch. No lights. “I heard we had a power surge here,” the guard said. “I hope that won’t mess things up for you.”

Driscoll shook his head. “It shouldn’t. The unit has a twenty-four-hour battery backup.” He gestured toward Gadaire’s office. “I believe it’s back there. We’ll get started.”

“I’ll need to stay with you.”

“Of course. Care to lead the way?”

Driscoll glanced over and saw that his son was sweating buckets. Not unusual for a rookie, but it wasn’t good for the casual image they had to project. Driscoll tugged at the large blue bandanna protruding from Charlie’s pocket and pointed to his forehead. As they walked with the guard to Gadaire’s office, Charlie pulled out the bandanna and tied it around his head.

“Ah, a customized model,” Driscoll said upon seeing the unit. “Beautiful woodwork. The factory only makes these with stainless or glass doors.” Driscoll looked at the keypad below the door handle. The moment of truth.

“Do you have the combination?” the guard asked.

“When there’s a malfunction, my service code will open it.”

Charlie shot him a nervous glance.

Cool it, lad. Remember your poker face.

Driscoll punched the six-digit service code he had seen at the holistic medicine practice.

The keypad didn’t respond.

He held his breath. Cripes. His worst fear come true. How in the hell were they going to—

The lock clicked, and the small display read
OPEN
.

Success!

They were in.

Anna Devareau downshifted her orange Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder, letting the slack-jawed businessman in the next lane get a good long look. Her car always made the guys look, but she knew that
she
was the reason why they couldn’t look away.

She flashed him a smile. Could she make this horn-dog crash into the tanker truck ahead of him? It was a game she had often played in her teens and early twenties, but perhaps now it was time to see if she still had the magic.

Her phone beeped, and she turned from the salivating businessman. Oh, well. Of course she still had the magic.

She touched her earpiece. “Anna Devareau.”

“Miss Devareau, this is Charles Ames, Security.”

“Of course, Charles, I recognize your voice.” Keep it soft and intimate. Ames had done her many favors. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, nothing to worry about. We were told to inform you of any unusual occurrences since Mr. Gadaire is out of the country. We just got a call from the Aviva Stadium security chief. The refrigerated cabinet in Mr. Gadaire’s office went on the fritz, and he wanted to let us know that the service technicians are already there working on it.”