Steve Berry - The Charlemagne Pursuit

"You don't know who they were."

"No, I don't. But I do know that Charlemagne ordered the book Dorothea showed you buried with him. It was apparently important enough that he wanted it kept from everyone, except emperors. Einhard went to a lot of trouble to hide this book. Suffice it to say that there is more in here that explains why the Nazis really went to Antarctica in 1938, and why our fathers went back in 1971."

The abbey rose ahead, still illuminated against the limitless night.

"Park over there," she said, and he wheeled in and stopped.

Still no one following them.

She popped open her door. "Let me show you what, I'm sure, Dorothea didn't."

RAMSEY LOVED THE NIGHT. HE CAME ALIVE EACH DAY AROUND six PM, his best thoughts and most decisive actions always formulated after dark. Sleep was necessary, though usually no more than four to five hours-just enough to rest his brain, but not enough to waste time. Nighttime also provided privacy, since it was much easier to know if someone was interested in your business at two in the morning as opposed to two in the afternoon. That was why he only met with Diane McCoy at night.

He lived in a modest Georgetown town house that he rented from a longtime friend who liked having a four-star admiral as a tenant. He electronically swept the two floors for monitoring devices at least once a day-and especially before Diane paid a visit.

He'd been fortunate that Daniels had selected her as national security adviser. She was certainly qualified, with degrees in international relations and global economics, and politically connected with both the left and right. She'd come from State as part of the shakeup last year when Larry Daley's career abruptly ended. He'd liked Daley-a negotiable soul-but Diane was better. Smart, ambitious, and determined to stick around longer than the three years left on Daniels' last term.

Thankfully, he could offer her that chance.

And she knew it.

"Things are starting," he said.

They were comfortable in his den, a fire crackling in the brick hearth. Outside, the temperature had dropped to the midtwenties. No snow yet, but it was on the way.

"Since I know little of what those things are," McCoy said, "I can only assume they're good."

He smiled. "What about on your end? Can you make the appointment happen?"

"Admiral Sylvian isn't gone yet. He's banged up from that motorcycle accident, but is expected to recover."

"I know David. He's going to be down for months. He won't want his job unattended during that time. He'll resign." He paused. "If he doesn't succumb first."

McCoy smiled. She was a placid blonde with a capable air and eyes that beamed with confidence. He liked that about her. Modest bearing. Simple. Cool. Yet dangerous as hell. She sat, back straight, in the chair and nursed a whiskey soda.

"I almost believe you can make Sylvian's death happen," she said.

"What if I can?"

"Then you'd be a man worthy of respect."

He laughed. "The game we're about to play has no rules and only one objective. To win. So I want to know about Daniels. Will he cooperate?"

"That's going to depend on you. You know he's no fan, but you're also qualified for the job. Assuming, of course, there's a vacancy to fill."

He caught her suspicion. The initial plan was simple: Eliminate David Sylvian, secure his spot on the Joint Chiefs of Staff, serve three years, then start phase two. But he needed to know, "Will Daniels follow your advice?"

She sipped more of her drink. "You don't like not being in control, do you?"

"Who does?"

"Daniels is the president. He can do what he pleases. But I think what he does here depends on Edwin Davis."

He didn't want to hear that. "How could he be a factor? He's a deputy adviser."

"Like me?"

He caught her resentment. "You know what I mean, Diane. How could Davis be a problem?"

"That's your flaw, Langford. You tend to underestimate your enemy."

"How is Davis my enemy?"

"I read the report on Blazek. Nobody named Davis died in that sub. He lied to Daniels. There was no older brother killed."

"Did Daniels know that?"

She shook her head. "He didn't read the inquiry report. He told me to do it."

"Can't you control Davis?"

"As you so wisely note, we're on the same level. He has as free access to Daniels as I do, per the president's order. It's the White House, Langford. I don't make the rules."

"What about the national security adviser? Any help there?"

"He's in Europe and not in the loop on this one."

"You think Daniels is working directly with Davis?"

"How the hell would I know? All I know is Danny Daniels isn't a tenth as stupid as he wants everyone to believe he is."

He glanced at the mantel clock. Soon the airwaves would be filled with the news of Admiral David Sylvian's untimely death, attributable to injuries sustained in a tragic motorcycle accident. Tomorrow another death in Jacksonville, Florida, might be a local news story. Much was happening, and what McCoy was saying troubled him.

"Involving Cotton Malone in this could also be problematic," she said.

"How? The man's retired. He just wants to know about his father."

"That report should not have been given to him."

He agreed, but it shouldn't matter. Wilkerson and Malone were most likely dead. "We just used that foolishness to our advantage."

"I have no idea how that was to our advantage."

"Just know that it was."

"Langford, am I going to regret this?"

"You're welcome to serve out Daniels' term, then go to work for some think tank writing reports that nobody reads. Ex-White House staffers look great on the letterhead, and I hear they're paid well. Maybe one of the networks would hire you to spout out ten-second sound bites on what other people are doing to change the world. Pays good, too, even if you look like an idiot most of the time."

"Like I said. Am I going to regret this?"

"Diane, power has to be taken. There's no other way to acquire it. Now, you never answered me. Will Daniels cooperate and appoint me?"

"I read the Blazek report," she said. "I also did some checking. You were on Holden when it went to Antarctica to search for that sub. You and two others. The top brass sent your team under classified orders. In fact, that mission is still classified. I can't even learn about it. I did discover that you went ashore and filed a report on what you found, delivered personally, by you, to the chief of naval operations. What he did with the information, nobody knows."

"We didn't find anything."

"You're a liar."

He gauged her assault. This woman was formidable-a political animal with excellent instincts. She could help and she could hurt. So he shifted. "You're right. I am lying. But believe me, you don't want to know what really happened."

"No, I don't. But whatever it is may come back to haunt you."

He'd thought the same thing for thirty-eight years. "Not if I can help it."

She seemed to be restraining a surge of annoyance at his avoidance of her inquiries. "It's been my experience, Langford, that the past always has a way of returning. Those who don't learn, or can't remember it, are doomed to repeat it. Now you have an ex-agent involved-a damn good one, I might add-who has a personal stake in this mess. And Edwin Davis is on the loose. I have no idea what he's doing-"

He'd heard enough. "Can you deliver Daniels?"

She paused, taking in his rebuke, then slowly said, "I'd say that all depends on your friends on Capitol Hill. Daniels needs their help on a great many things. He's doing what every president does at the end. Thinking legacy. He has a legislative agenda so, if the right members of Congress want you on the Joint Chiefs, then he'll give it to them-in return, of course, for votes. The questions are easy. Will there be a vacancy to fill, and can you deliver the right members?"