Jonathan Maberry - Assassin's code

“There’s a second problem,” added Circe. “Most of the superpowers have many more devices than have ever appeared on inventories, because they do not want them counted. Nuclear arms limitations agreements, as well intentioned as they are, have driven some countries into policies of secrecy that are truly frightening.”

“So what does that mean for us?” asked Rudy. “In this case, I mean?”

“It should give us a few leads but we can’t count on it taking us directly to a source,” replied Circe. “Or to a buyer, if these things are black market items.”

“Exactly.” Church selected a Nilla wafer but did not take a bite. “This might-and I do mean might — help us eventually find the source of the bombs, but I’m not optimistic about that leading us to where all of the bombs currently are. We still only have probable locations on the first four. That kind of ferret work is time-consuming, and I doubt we have that kind of time. In the short term I am positioning our teams to move in and attempt to seize control of them and de-arm them.”

The word “attempt” hung in the air like a bad smell.

“And if we can’t?” asked Rudy.

“I have a number of experts working on developing various practical scenarios for how this could play out, including, unfortunately, a worst-case scenario.”

“Worst-case meaning what?” asked Rudy. “Tell me that your concern is the human population of the region and not the oil fields.”

Church said nothing, and his eyes were invisible behind his tinted glasses, but Rudy felt the impact of his stare.

“ Lo siento,” Rudy said, and placed his hand over his heart and half bowed.

Church shook his head to erase the gaffe from the conversation. He turned to focus on Circe. “How are you coming along with a list of potential instigators?”

She sighed and shook her head. “We simply don’t have enough information to go on. We need to know more than we do or we’re shooting in the dark.”

“I agree,” said Church, nodding. “Now give me what you have.”

Circe told him about the concerns she and Bug had with the “damage” to the flash drive.

“I think we can all agree that Rasouli doctored it,” Church said with a cold little smile. “What else?”

“The Book of Shadows and the Saladin Codex, ” said Rudy. “We’ve made some progress there.” They told him about the Voynich manuscript.

“Yes,” Church said, nodding. “I’ve heard of it. Have you been able to determine what it is, though? Voynich or the Book of Shadows?”

“Not so far,” admitted Circe. “I’ve been going through the research done at Yale, at U of P, and elsewhere, but it’s all theories. No one has cracked it yet.”

“And those two extra pages?”

Circe shrugged. “Dead end, so far.”

“What about the other book, the Saladin Codex? It’s my understanding that it’s an annotation and attempted refutation of Al-Kitab al-mukhtasar fi hisab al-gabr wa’l-muqabala. Does that suggest anything?”

Circe nodded, translating the name slowly, tasting the words. “‘The Compendious Book on Calculation by Completion and Balancing.’ Completion and balancing. Interesting.”

“I thought so, too,” said Church.

Rudy did not see the connection. “What does that suggest?”

“In terms of symbolism, it suggests a number of things,” said Circe. “The desire for a return to order. Or, in different terms, to the ‘correct’ and precise way things should be. In the current Middle East situation, there are several clashing interpretations for the ‘way things should be.’ The Jews say the Holy Land is theirs, and they can make a good argument for it, from their perspective based on the length of time during which they occupied those lands, the whole ‘chosen people’ thing. Then there’s the Christians who believe that the Holy Lands rightfully passed to them with the birth and, more significantly, the trial, execution, and resurrection of Jesus. Some groups actively believe that the Jews forfeited any rights to those lands when they brought Jesus to Pilate for trial.” She took a breath. “And Islam, though a comparatively younger religion, believes that God specifically handed over the lease for those lands to them through Mohammed. Since there have been Arab peoples there for thousands of years, they, too, can make a good claim for possession.”

“Not to mention the tensions ignited when the nation of Israel was founded,” said Church. “And the deepening crisis when oil was discovered under the sands.”

“Which brings in Europe and America,” said Rudy.

“And Asia. China and Japan are major clients of OPEC.”

“Balance,” mused Rudy sourly. “What about completion?”

“In this context,” said Church, “I find the word deeply troubling. It suggests an end to things. An endgame, perhaps.”

“Nukes would accomplish that,” said Circe.

“How?” asked Rudy. “Beyond simply blowing things up.”

“You know the saying ‘fire purifies’?” asked Circe. “If the oil fields were destroyed and the land laid waste by radiation, there could be no further conflict over there.”

“What are we discussing here?” asked Rudy with a crooked smile. “A doomsday cult?”

Circe wasn’t smiling.

“ Madre de Dios,” breathed Rudy.

CIA Safe House #11

Tehran, Iran

June 15, 12:29 p.m.

Once we were past the markets, the streets became empty and quiet. No human or car traffic. No sign of Violin, no sign of the Red Knight, but I didn’t like the vibe. The atmosphere was supercharged with tension. I knew that a lot of it was nerves. This whole thing was freaking me out. Truly and deeply.

Haven lay right up the street, though, and I was already starting to breathe easier.

The best safe houses were run by the CIA. They’d been at this longer and they spent a lot of time developing teams to run and oversee the locations. The one Ghost and I headed to was at the fringe of a garment district, with an open lot on one side and a hardware store that was closed on the other. A “For Sale” sign was hung in the window of the store, and I suspected the Company owned that as well.

The safe house was occupied by husband and wife agents. They were a real married couple recruited years ago. Taraneh and Arastoo Mouradipour. Midthirties. His cover was a textile salesman, and she was floor manager for a small factory that made children’s clothes.

Ghost and I walked past the house twice, once from across the street heading west, then on the same side as the house going east. Everything looked normal and quiet. A ten-year-old blue Paykan was parked outside, its paint job faded by sand and heat, several rust spots coated with primer. The only other vehicles in the area were a pair of white vans parked in the lot of a telephone installation company a few blocks away.

We walked all the way around the block and then cut down the alley that led to the open lot. I walked along the side of the house. Back door and side windows were intact. Everything looked calm, which is exactly what I wanted to see. Calm sounded pretty good to me. I needed a bath, food, a first aid kit and a chance to make a private call to Church. There was so much I needed to tell him.

When we reached the front of the house I went to the door and knocked.

Ghost, who was still sluggish, flopped down on the step and looked like he was about to go to sleep. I was getting worried about him. There was no way to tell how much damage the Taser had done, but Ghost was definitely not himself; his senses were clearly dulled and his energy almost bottomed out.

There was no immediate answer. I knocked again.

The protocol was to knock no more than three times. After that you walk away and try another safe house. I didn’t want to walk into another house filled with blood and death, so I was willing to split if this didn’t play out. The next closest was a convenience store half a mile from here. However, I doubted Ghost had that much energy in him. I could sympathize. That goon in the hotel had really rung my chimes and now that the adrenaline was wearing off I could feel it.