Thomas Greanias - The Atlantis revelation

He stepped out of the amphitheater into the bar reception area and saw the celestial globe standing there like some piece of art with a young man in a suit and collar-a priest's collar.

Worse, the priest had recognized him.

Damn, Conrad thought as he marched up to the priest.

The priest began, "Dr. Yeats-"

"Shut up," Conrad said quietly, and glanced around. "What the hell is going on?"

"You needn't worry," the priest said drily. "This isn't the globe you gave her. This is a fake. She took the real one with her after she removed the tracker and put it inside this one."

"Where is she…Lorenzo?" Conrad said, reading the priest's ID badge.

Lorenzo had suddenly taken a vow of silence.

Conrad pressed him. "She's in danger."

The priest screwed up his eyes at Conrad. "From whom?"

"Last time, Lorenzo."

"She's at her three o'clock appointment," Lorenzo said. "Do I need to call security?"

"No, but I'm taking this." Conrad took the globe off its pedestal and walked off with it, leaving an open-mouthed Lorenzo behind.

Outside, Conrad opened the globe, tossed the tracker, and strapped the globe to the back of his motorcycle. Then he pulled out his BlackBerry and called Wanda Randolph.

"Report," said Wanda.

"Tell Packard she found the tracker. But she's still with the packages. I need you to hack the security system here and see when was the last time her ID badge was scanned."

"Copy that," Wanda said.

Conrad looked at his watch. It was 3:05. He was worried he was too late.

Wanda rang him back two minutes later. "She passed through the checkpoint at Liberty Gate in the Old Town. She's going to the Palace of the Grandmaster with two packages. They're listed only as 'art' on the system."

But Conrad had hung up at "Grandmaster," kick-started his bike, and roared off toward the fortress.

Back at the hotel and convention center, Lorenzo crossed the atrium lobby and approached the commanding officer at the security desk. He was an ambitious priest, and Dr. Yeats had given him a golden opportunity to accelerate his rise within the Dei even as he attempted to protect his superiors.

"I just saw the fugitive who murdered Mercedes Le Roche," Lorenzo said breathlessly. "Conrad Yeats the American. He is here at the summit."

The Greek looked at Lorenzo's badge and collar and decided to take the report seriously enough to ask further questions. "Was he wearing a badge, Father?"

"Yes," said Lorenzo helpfully. "The name was Firat Kayda, and it had a red security stripe for access to the inner zones. Holy Mother of God, maybe this American killed Kayda and has taken his place to kill someone here!"

"Please, Father. Do not repeat this. We will investigate."

Lorenzo detected a dismissive tone in the Greek official's voice. "You're not going to do any such thing, are you?"

The officer picked up a phone. "Firat Kayda," he said, and hung up.

"That's all?" Lorenzo said.

"Please wait, Father."

The officer attended to some papers with the other officers while Lorenzo watched, burning with anger. A minute later, the Greek saw his frown and looked at a computer terminal. "Here it is," he said, looking at a time-stamped video clip of the moment Kayda had passed through the hotel checkpoint. A concerned expression took hold on the Greek's face as the facial-recognition program kicked in. "There is a high degree of probability that you are correct."

"At last," Lorenzo said.

The Greek started typing furiously. "I am flagging his name and attaching the video for when he presents himself at a checkpoint. He'll be refused entry and arrested immediately."

"Don't forget that he is armed and dangerous, Officer. He has killed and may kill again."

The Greek looked up warily. "Thank you very much, Father. You have been most helpful."

Lorenzo made the sign of the cross and walked away.

Vadim was sitting inside the Peugeot parked opposite the Palace of the Grandmaster. He looked past the vehicle ID badge dangling from his rearview mirror to see the silver Mercedes SUV drive through.

He reached back and pulled down the rear seat to access the trunk. Squirming next to the blocks of C4 plastic explosives was a bound, gagged, and badly beaten Abdil Zawas. Vadim had brought the Egyptian to Rhodes directly from Bern hours before the security checkpoints had been set up. Since this car had been registered to a resident for several years, the security forces sweeping the Old Town yellow zone hadn't opened its trunk.

Abdil was waking up a little sooner than Vadim wanted. The streets were so narrow and cars so few that he couldn't afford to have somebody walk by while Abdil banged his head and feet to draw attention.

"Siesta isn't over," Vadim said, and removed an injection pen from his pocket. "We have to keep you alive long enough for the coroner to pronounce your proper cause of death as a martyr for Allah." He delighted at the look of horror in Abdil's eyes. The pen was filled only with a concentrated dose of trazodone to put him to sleep. Nothing painful, unfortunately, and it was a shame to think that the Egyptian wouldn't be awake for his final moments.

"Don't you wonder how many of your little sluts will miss you when you're gone?" Vadim asked, injecting the trazodone into Abdil's thick neck. "I think you'll miss them more where you're going."

Abdil's eyes rolled around in panic even as his eyelids grew heavy. In a few minutes it would all be over for the late, great Abdil Zawas.

"I'm going to make you famous, Abdil," Vadim told the Egyptian. "You're about to open a new front on the war against Jews and Crusaders. Look at this clip that's about to be posted on YouTube. Recognize yourself?"

Vadim was about to play the video on his BlackBerry when the device began to ring. It was Midas.

"Security says Yeats is alive and on Rhodes," Midas barked. "She has betrayed the Alignment."

"You seem surprised," Vadim said. "Your plan was always to kill her as soon as she delivered the globes. She knows too much. More than I do. Nothing has changed. Yeats won't make it in time to interfere."

"Is everything set?"

"Yes," Vadim said. "The only street into or out of the Palace of the Grandmaster is the Street of Knights. I'll take care of her as soon as she leaves the palace."

"She must not have even a moment to contact anybody with information about what she may have learned from Uriel or figured out for herself," Midas said, and then there was a pause. "Remember, Vadim. She will be the second car. I repeat: the second car. Not the first. Everything is lost if you mistake the two."

Vadim said, "I won't."

"See that you don't," Midas said. "It must look like the first car was the target but that Zawas hit Serghetti's car instead and blew himself up in the process."

"Yes," said Vadim, looking at Abdil's limp body in the mirror. "I understand."

All the way down the Street of Knights toward the Palace of the Grandmaster, Serena wondered who Uriel could possibly be. If his role within the Alignment was true to his name, then Uriel could be the one who ultimately possessed the Flammenschwert. That pointed to Midas, however, and she braced herself to see his ugly smile waiting for her with the third globe.

"I wish I could join you inside, signorina," Benito said as he pulled the G55 SUV up to the west tower entrance.

"Me, too," she said.

The Greek attache Midas had told her about was already waiting with two aides and a cart. Benito opened the rear door, and the aides placed the two steel boxes containing the copper globes on the cart. Serena followed through the entrance.

Inside, they walked past the Medusa mosaic and down a large vaulted corridor to the lower level. It was right out of the blueprints Conrad had shown her back at the lake in Italy. And when they entered the Hall of Knights and left her alone with the globes, nobody had to tell her what room she stood in. Its scale and decor announced itself in a sinister way.