Shadow Zone (33 page)

How to explain in a way that he would accept? “It’s instinct, Ronnie. Caring for people is a two-way street. You want to protect me. I want to protect you. Think about it. If you had to lie to me to keep me safe, would you do it?”

He thought about it. “Maybe. But it’s wrong.”

“Yes, it is.” She paused. “I should have trusted you. I was in a hurry, and I didn’t want to make explanations. After I saw those photos you took, I just wanted to get both of you away from there.” She smiled faintly. “By the way, that was very clever of you to be so observant. I was impressed.”

“No big deal. I was a little scared about him.” He scowled at her. “But you seemed not to be worried. So I thought it was okay.”

And damaged his trust and pride. She had to get that trust back. “Will you forgive me if I promise never to lie to you again? Not even if I’m scared and want to keep you safe?”

“You treated me like a kid. Oh, I know I am a kid, but you should have—”

“You’re right. I’m wrong.” She covered his hand on the rail with her own. “I’ll never lie to you again.”

He was silent a moment. “And you’ll let me help if something like that happens again?”

“That’s a hard one.” She sighed. “Yes, I promise.”

He turned and buried his head against her. “Good. I hated to be mad at you, Aunt Hannah. But I couldn’t let it happen again.”

Her brows rose. “By any chance, did you just manipulate me to get what you want?”

“Maybe. But I didn’t lie.” He lifted his head and smiled. “I wouldn’t do that.”

She gave him a quick hug and pushed him away. “Make yourself useful. Go to Melis and have her give you something to do. We need all hands to get this ship under way.”

“Aye, aye.” He started down the deck. “And I think it’s smart to go out to sea. Much less chance of anyone finding you.”

“Harder anyway. I’m glad you approve.”

“Oh, I do. Was it Kirov’s idea?”

“No, it was
not.
”

She watched him as he headed down the deck toward Melis. Had there been a hint of mischief in that last question? Possibly. Ronnie was growing up and fully capable of subtle humor . . . and manipulation. But hopefully the agreement that they’d struck wouldn’t be uncomfortable for either of them.

Her smile faded as she started after Ronnie. Time to get busy. Like Charlie, she wanted to stand waiting and watching for Kirov and Eugenia to return. But the time would pass quicker if she kept busy.

Kirov returned alone almost an hour later. He was . . . charged. Every muscle of his body seemed wired. She had seen him like that a few times and knew what it meant. She dropped what she was doing and walked toward him. “Mission accomplished?”

“We got rid of two. I don’t think there were any more.”

“Dead?”

He shook his head. “We weren’t sure if either of them were Baker’s men. Didn’t want to throw out the baby with the bathwater. So we put them to sleep for a good long time. They’ll wake up with ferocious headaches when we’re far out to sea.” He turned to Charlie, who had strolled up to him. “Eugenia is waiting for you at the museum. Take off.”

Charlie nodded and headed for the gangplank.

“And we should take off too,” Kirov said. “When do we sail?”

She turned away. “We’re ready to go. You were keeping us waiting.”

The sun was going down in a purple-scarlet explosion on the horizon, turning the sea into a glory of shimmering color.

“That’s nice,” Ronnie said as he leaned on the rail. “I left my camera in my bunk, or I’d take a picture of it. We’ve been sailing for hours, Aunt Hannah. Are we safe now?”

“I think so.” Don’t lie just to make him feel safe. Damn, that was difficult. Every instinct with children was to keep them secure and happy. “No sign of pursuit, and Kirov made sure that no one reported our departure. Yes, there’s an excellent chance we’re safe.”

“So we just sail around out here? Why don’t we go to Marinth?”

“Because Marinth isn’t safe right now. We’ll go later.”

Ronnie was silent a moment, his gaze on Melis’s silhouette a few yards away framed against the scarlet sky. “She’d like to go there, I think. She’s sad, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she misses her dolphins.”

“I know, she told me. It’s hard to have a dolphin for a pet. It’s not like they’ll come whenever you whistle.”

“She does have a whistle, but she seldom uses it. They’re not her pets. She regards them as friends. They’ve saved her life more than once. Not many people understand dolphins. They’re a very strange species. Pete and Susie like humans, they even interact with them; but they still have a strong family herd instinct with their own kind. Particularly the dolphins of Marinth. It’s as if they call Pete and Susie back to them.”

“She looks lonely. I think I’ll go to her and see if—”

A high, shrill sound broke the silence. Another followed.

Then the shrillness broke until it sounded like laughter.

Melis straightened at the rail. “Pete?” She was peering down at the sea below her. “Pete!”

Ronnie and Hannah hurried to stand beside her.

“They’re here?” Hannah asked.

Melis nodded. The soft rose flush on her face was from the setting sun, but the luminous glow was pure happiness. “Pete and Susie. We’re so far from Marinth, I didn’t expect to—but here they are.”

“They came looking for you,” Hannah said softly.

“Yes.” She fell to her knees, her gaze on the dolphins, who had both come close to the ship and were chattering up at her. “It’s about time you wandered out here. I’ve missed you.”

Ronnie dropped to his knees beside her. He was staring in fascination at the two sets of huge dark eyes gazing up at them. “They’re . . . beautiful.”

“Don’t flatter them,” Melis said. “They’re already too vain. Particularly Susie.”

“Which one is Susie? They look the same.”

“Susie is on the left. She has a dorsal fin with a V in the center. Pete is larger and has darker gray markings on his snout. It won’t take you long to get to know them at a glance.” She laughed. “Susie is going to make sure that you do. She’s flirting with you.” Susie had swum over to Ronnie and was chortling up at him. Then Pete swam close, nudging her aside to get to Ronnie. “I believe you’ve made a hit, Ronnie.”

“Look at their eyes. They’re glowing like cat’s eyes.”

“They’re brighter than cats’. They have to function in depths and withstand light levels that would hurt human eyes.”

“I . . . want to touch them. Would that be okay?”

“I think they’d like that. Dolphins can’t smell, and they swallow everything whole, so they don’t taste it. But touch is important to them. They spend about thirty percent of their time in physical contact with other dolphins.” Melis sat back on her heels. “Would you like to swim with them?”

Ronnie’s eyes lit up. “May I?”

Melis nodded. “Go get your swimsuit on. Hurry.”

He jumped to his feet and ran toward the stairs.

“Is it safe?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, I’ll be in the water with him, and the dolphins won’t let anything happen. I’ve seen them cradle a swimmer between them to keep him from drowning.” She pulled off her swim dress. “And it’s an experience he won’t forget.” She kicked off her thongs. “They like him and took to him right away. I don’t know quite what’s happening, but I think they want him to come to play with them. Maybe they sense . . . I don’t know. They have wonderful instincts.”

And Ronnie was ecstatic, Hannah thought. Why not let him forget the threat hanging over them and enjoy all the beauty and wonder of this moment?

“I’m ready!” Ronnie was running toward them. “Do I just jump in?”

“Be my guest.” Melis dove into the sea.

Ronnie was laughing with excitement as he followed.

Hannah came closer to the rail, watching the dolphins jumping, circling around them, even butting Ronnie playfully with their snouts.

He reached out and gently touched Pete’s snout. “It’s warm . . . I thought he’d be cold from the water.”

Pete went still beneath his hand, staring into the boy’s eyes for a long time.

What was going on between them? Hannah wondered.

Magic.

Mystery.

Understanding.

And something else.

Healing.

Trinity College
Dublin, Ireland
1:40
P.M.

Rain pounded the sidewalks and formed massive puddles as Eugenia and Charlie, dressed in hooded slickers, made their way to the west side of campus. Some students, apparently caught without umbrellas, dashed back and forth between buildings.

Eugenia pulled her hood lower over her forehead. “I don’t understand how you Irish can be so cheerful when it’s gloomy and rainy so much of the time.”

Charlie smiled. “Aye, but there’s always a sadness there, just under the skin. We drink to keep it mashed deep down.”

“Ah, that explains a lot.” She gestured to a vine-covered building ahead of them. “That’s the botany department’s greenhouse. Dr. Lampman always goes there to check on growths and cultures at about 1:45 every weekday except Thursday.”

“How do you know?”

“Research. It’s the first rule of dealing with any unknown quantity, especially someone who may be an enemy. Remember that.”

“I will. I’ll put it on my list.” His lips twisted. “A list that’s getting longer and longer.”

“A list that will get longer still, especially if you want to take on Anna Devareau. If you try before you’re ready, she’ll squash you like a bug.”

“I understand, Master Yoda.”

She gave him a perplexed look. “What’s a Yoda?”

“You’re kidding, right?
Star Wars,
little green guy, teaches the heroes how to kick ass . . .”

“I don’t like science fiction.”

“You’re missing out.”

“I doubt it. Anyway, it’s always important to do your research. It’s not exciting, but it’s vital. I know your father believed in it.”

He nodded. “He drove me crazy with that stuff.”

“In this case, it’s already been done for us. Kirov logged Lampman’s schedule when he was planning how to take the alga samples. Lampman evidently follows a strict routine. That’s good for us.”

They entered the arboretum and followed the signs that pointed them toward the adjoining greenhouse. In a matter of minutes, they moved into the white-tiled structure. The rain was still pounding outside, rattling the upper panes and running down the sides, distorting their views of the outside world like thousands of fun-house mirrors.

“What time is it?” Charlie whispered.

“Always wear a watch. Put that on your list right now. Lampman should be here any—” She stopped and looked ahead. “There he is.”

Lampman was standing on the other side of the greenhouse, hunched over a table of plants. He held a clipboard in front of him, jotting down observations. He either had not heard them, or he did not care that there were suddenly others in his vicinity.

“Hello, Dr. Lampman.” Eugenia smiled as she and Charlie approached him. “How are you today?”

He glanced up from the clipboard and responded absently, “Fine.”

“Sorry to interrupt your work, but I wondered what you might think of this.” She unzipped her rain slicker and pulled out a stack of photos. “Some of these got a little wet, sorry about that.” She showed him the first picture, a shot of two badly decomposed corpses in the driver and passenger seats of a car parked in a wooded area. “These were David and Patricia Hermann, though in the picture it’s difficult to tell who is who. The driver’s skull is a bit bigger if you overlook the smashed-in forehead. That’s probably David, don’t you think?”

Lampman stepped back and held the clipboard close to his chest. “Who are you?”

“Not important right now. These two people were software engineers whom Vincent Gadaire hired to hack into the encrypted files of Senate Appropriations Committee members. He wanted a peek at a new antimissile system. Gadaire got his peek, but the U.S. government started to figure out what the Hermanns had done. Gadaire didn’t want the trail to lead back to him, so he made sure they would never give him up to the authorities. Their bodies sat in their car at the bottom of this ravine for months before they were found. There was a crude attempt to make it look like an accident, but multiple contusions in an automobile interior looks quite a bit different than thirty-five blows from a baseball bat.”

Lampman moistened his lips. “Why are you here? Why are you showing this to me?”

She held up another photo of a corpse with no head or hands. “They eventually identified this one as a defense contractor who was providing classified countertactical weapons to Gadaire. Again, it looked like he was about to cut a deal that included giving up Gadaire.” She held up yet another photo, this one of a bald man missing half his face. “Antonio Venti, who helped Gadaire broker a deal with Al Qaeda. Also killed as he was about to give evidence . . .” She held up a clipping from a French newspaper. “This is Dr. Timothy Hollis, a curator at the Louvre in Paris. He’s recently vanished without a trace.” She paused. “He’s one of the world’s foremost experts on Marinth.”

Lampman stiffened in shock.

Eugenia smiled. “Yes, Marinth. Do you think Gadaire hired him, too?”

Beads of sweat collected on Lampman’s forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Gadaire is a dangerous man to work for, especially if he thinks you may incriminate him. He has a history of eliminating any threat.”

“Assuming that I would ever do any work for this man, why would I ever endanger my life by doing such a foolish thing?”

Eugenia smiled. “But you’ve already done it. About five minutes ago.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know that Gadaire has been having you watched. Remember the night the samples were taken from you?”

Lampman opened his lips to speak, then closed them again.

Eugenia reached into her pocket. “Then it shouldn’t surprise you to learn that he—or his security team—are monitoring your phone calls. How else would he be able to keep such close tabs on people who hold such sensitive information about him?”

Lampman was sweating profusely now. “You haven’t answered my question. What exactly did I do five minutes ago?”