David Golemon - Legend

Niles started to stand, feeling his side investigation was going nowhere.

According to Royal Canadian death records, the general census of citizens of Mexico, the official census of Brazil, and the state and territorial records of the United States, one member was still alive in 1874, Europa answered.

Niles looked at the printed answer on the screen with renewed hope. "Question. What was the last name of recipient?"

Formulating.

Niles knew for a fact it had to be a priest, probably in the very same order of St. Patrick's as the Spanish father's where the diary was sent. As he watched, he could hear through the glass in front of him Europa's robotic systems pulling programs at a fantastic rate. Normally he loved to watch the Cray system in action, but right now it would only make him more anxious.

All records of identity of medalist erased from former system hard drive 11/18/1993. No further account remains in center files.

"What? You mean the old Cray system file was erased?" Niles asked as he leaped to his feet in anger.

Affirmative. All records of case file beyond census data for 1874 of Vatican papal medalists has been dropped from the Nellis file system.

"Authorized user of last data query on current subject matter?" Niles asked but already knew the answer.

Professor Helen M. Zachary, 11/18/1993, clearance —

"Goddammit! You left us a dead end!" he said gritting his teeth.

Europa has failed to adequately understand question and/or statement. Please restate.

Niles didn't respond to the confused Europa; he stormed out of the clean room knowing they may have lost their one clear chance of finding Helen's team.

Alice sat and listened to the phone conversation between Niles and Senator Garrison Lee.

"The only thing I remember about some of those old files Dr. Zachary made off with is what I personally put into one of them in 1942. At the time of the theft I couldn't figure out, other than the obvious fact it was about Brazil, why she would have been interested; the file was just the After Action Report about the recovery of some scientists from the States. The rest were army and Corps of Engineers field reports from some sort of South American field operation that held no interest for the OSS or, later, the Event Group. Our part was to pull them out, nothing more; we weren't anywhere near the Amazon when the rescue occurred."

"If you weren't anywhere near the Amazon during the rescue, how could Helen have come up with anything that helped her in those files? The papal medalist leads, I can see her eliminating as a way to trace her actions, but this OSS file of yours, I don't get it," Niles said, leaning toward the speaker box on his desk. He was hoping beyond reason that Lee, having been one of "Wild Bill" Donovan's best OSS agents during the war, could come up with something to help.

"I haven't a clue, Niles; maybe she discovered something in the army paperwork that was forwarded with the file, I just don't know. And now that we're positive the file was erased from our former Cray archives along with any medalist's clues, you may never find out. But then again, although she knew she had covered her tracks, she knows you'll be able to uncover her tracks. But how, is the question."

"Perhaps the men you rescued in 1942 said something to you after you pulled them out, that could shed some light on this, Garrison," Alice suggested.

"Sorry, old girl, but army and navy intelligence kept those boys pretty much hushed up about their activities down there. There is one thing, though; we were supposed to be pulling out far more people than we ended up rescuing. And even as we made our way out of that hellhole, the men we rescued weren't much good; they were in shock and two of them were close to death from exposure. The only reason they were found is because they left their radio on and the army triangulated their position. That was when the military asked for help from the OSS contingent in South America to assist in recovering their team. That's all I have for you, Niles, with the exception of one item."

"And that is," Niles asked.

"This trouble in South America, with the file on that particular subject of papal knights being deleted from our files — where would you go to get something that is that old? Remember, the original file was transcribed from what to what?"

"Paper files to electronic," Niles said, knowing the answer to the senator's riddle immediately. The Event Group's original facility, built by then president Woodrow Wilson, was now a storage facility for all its paper files originated before 1943. They had all been entered into the original Cray system back in 1963. And that system was housed in Arlington, Virginia, at a place hidden far beneath the National Cemetery.

"There's your lead, my boy. There is no way Helen could have gotten into that facility, and she knew you could. She was smart enough to know where the paper files were stored in a closed-loop computer system. She knew that and the fact that you would have access to them when you hit the dead end here on Europa. You remember where the facility is, I take it?" the senator asked facetiously.

Of course Niles knew, and had to smile at the old subterfuge. Imagine, having the original Event Group housed in an underground facility not unlike the current complex. Woodrow Wilson had authorized the first complex built in 1916 and had placed it where no one would ever suspect.

"Yes, sir, I remember."

"Good, just be careful of the ghosts. And remember the first thing I taught you about the Group, Niles? We are what?"

"Alone and not trusting of anyone, and assume everyone is three steps ahead of us. I remember."

"Bingo. But there is one man you confide in, you know who?"

"Jack," he answered with a small smile.

"Right, tell him everything. Give him every detail, because I don't like the way this smells ever since you told me about our French friend."

"I will, and thank you."

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help, Mr. Director," Garrison said on the other end of the phone.

"Well, I guess all we can do is keep looking with Boris and Natasha, and hope the satellite comes up with something. In the meantime I'll get over to Complex One and see if I can find a certain file. Thanks, Garrison."

"Anytime, Niles; by the way, tell that old woman to bring home some real milk and not that soy crap," he said as he hung up.

The Banco de Juarez building was a glass and steel monstrosity, very out of place in one of the poorest neighborhoods in all of Bogota. It stood towering over the shanties as if it were a dark tower from the pages of a dark fairy tale.

Henri Farbeaux stood looking out of the plate glass window on the thirty-second floor, which afforded a panoramic view of the city below. They were far above the filth and poverty that permeated the city.

"So, are we prepared?"

Farbeaux turned to see Joaquin Delacruz Mendez standing in his doorway. The chubby banker was dressed ridiculously in a tan suit with jungle pockets in the front. The clothes were impeccably pressed and Mendez wore a brand-new pair of work boots. With great effort, Farbeaux kept himself from smiling. He, himself, was dressed in Levi's and a long-sleeved denim shirt. His black boots were broken in and waterproof.

"Yes, we are ready. The supplies have been received and are being loaded as we speak. Our helicopter is awaiting us on the roof."

"Excellent, and what of the boat?" he asked.

"We have chartered the Rio Madonna , a worthy ship that has plied those waters for twenty years. Her captain is a man who knows how to keep silent about certain aspects of our journey. His family has worked the river for generations," Farbeaux said as he turned away from the window and retrieved his Windbreaker. He didn't mention how much it was costing Mendez for the captain's silence.