Charles Brokaw - The Lucifer Code

‘You’re too late. I already lost him.’

‘The Istanbul police department currently has him. I suggest you get over there and pick him up.’

‘If you know so much, why do you need me?’

‘Go. Play nice. If you do, your kid sister gets to see her next birthday.’

But you won’t, Cleena promised herself. Not unless it’s coming up really soon.

‘It would help me if I knew what makes him so important,’ she said.

‘They say curiosity killed the cat. In this case, it could get your sister killed. Pay attention to your assignment. Call me the minute you have news, and call me at least every twelve hours. I know you won’t be keeping this phone, so I won’t try calling you.’

The man hung up and the dial tone buzzed in Cleena’s ear. She squeezed the telephone so hard that it broke in her grip. She forced herself to breathe out, then took the escalator down to the first floor. She never broke stride as she walked to the front of the mall. Her mind was fully engaged. If she was going to be staying in Istanbul for a while longer, she needed more supplies.

But most of all she needed information. And she knew where to get it.

Stone Goose Apartments

Zeytinburnu District

Istanbul, Turkey

17 March 2010

‘Sevki, open up.’ Cleena banged again on the weathered door with her fist. It was only 10.37 a.m., much too early for the man she had come to see.

The apartment was deep in the heart of the Zeytinburnu District, on the sixth floor of a building that had seen much better times long ago. Rickety metal stairs zigzagged along the side of the building. Cleena thought they shivered much worse than they had the last time she’d come calling. Even then she’d been worried that the stairs might completely fall off the building while she ascended them. The bottom floor of the building had once been a textile factory but now served as a way station for homeless people.

No identifying markings existed on the door. Cleena knew that Sevki hadn’t moved, though. Although the other renters didn’t know it, Sevki owned the building. That fact was hidden through a small series of shell holding companies.

‘You better off come back,’ a screeching voice said.

Turning slightly, her hand already dropping under her coat to grip the Czech pistol, Cleena looked across the alley to a neighbouring apartment building. There in the shadows, a little old woman sat on a narrow window sill with her feet on the landing, smoking a cigarette. Her dress was faded and looked brittle, but it was clean.

‘That one,’ the old woman continued, ‘he no get up in morning. Sleep all day, that one.’

‘Thank you,’ Cleena said. ‘But I think I’m going to try anyway.’ She waved, then turned back to the door. This time she kicked it, hard.

A harsh flurry of curse words in a mixture of languages grew louder as someone approached the door. A moment later, a brown eye peered through the peephole.

‘Oh my God,’ a male voice groaned. ‘Go away. Come back at a more decent hour.’

‘Sevki, let me in before I break the door down.’ Cleena kicked the door again, harder.

‘God, have you no decency, woman?’

‘None, nor shame either. Let me in, Sevki, or you’ll think the three little pigs got off easily.’

‘As I recall, the three little pigs won.’

‘Not in my world.’

Sevki shot the bolts, seven of them, and opened the door. It was heavy and swung on well-oiled hinges. Beneath the aged wooden veneer was a metal core thick enough to withstand bullets and low-yield grenades. Sevki believed in security.

‘Is anyone with you?’ he asked. He stuck his head out and glanced along the walk.

Cleena slapped him on the back of the head. ‘It’s stupid to stick your head out like that. Someone will shoot it off.’

‘No, no, no, no one will shoot my head off. I knew you were here, and I knew you were alone. I took your advice and put in a precautionary measure.’ Sevki pointed at the building across the alley. ‘Look along the rooftop under the eaves.’

When Cleena did, she spotted the small camera mounted there.

‘Wireless feed,’ Sevki explained. ‘I see what it sees on my computer.’

‘Very well done.’

Sevki grinned like a kid. He stood a little taller than Cleena and was lanky. His black hair was thick and in obvious disarray. Blue highlights showed on the ends. He wore olive cargo khakis and a black flannel T-shirt sporting a costumed superhero with a glowing ring under a green shirt. Round-lensed glasses softened his narrow face.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,’ he said.

‘A few months,’ Cleena agreed.

‘Five months, three weeks and two days.’

Cleena wasn’t surprised that he knew that. Sevki had a phenomenal mind, which was what had originally brought her to him.

‘You look well,’ he said. ‘Life has been good?’

‘I’m in trouble.’

Some of the carefree attitude slid from Sevki’s face. ‘What kind of trouble?’

‘The bad kind. The kind you don’t know how bad it really is until it’s on you.’

‘And it’s on you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Has any of this bad kind of trouble followed you here?’

‘No. I’m sure of that.’

Sevki stepped back and opened the door wider. ‘Come in.’

Stone Goose Apartments

Zeytinburnu District

Istanbul, Turkey

17 March 2010

‘I’m surprised you don’t know where the police department is.’ Sevki sat in a comfortable chair in front of a desk that had six computer monitors spread across it. His fingers clacked across the keyboard with practised ease. Images changed on the monitors with astonishing regularity. Cleena didn’t know how he kept up with everything, but she knew he did.

‘I’ve made a habit of never getting arrested.’ Cleena lounged on the couch with accustomed familiarity. When she was in Istanbul, she and Sevki spent time together, as friends and as lovers. Neither of them could afford to have someone permanent in their lives, and neither of them was willing to give up the world they felt safe in to live together. Besides, though the friendship and fringe benefits were good, both preferred independence.

Sevki shrugged. ‘Getting arrested isn’t so bad.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

‘It’s when they try to keep you that things become less fun.’

‘I’m going to try never to put jail and fun in the same sentence again.’

The apartment was a mix of adult and child, of technician and dreamer. Everything in the kitchen was neatly in its place. Sevki liked to cook, which was one of the things Cleena appreciated about him. The computer area was immaculate, neatly organized and carefully arranged. That was where he did his work.

One wall held shelves filled with boxed American comic books and graphic novels. Each box was carefully coded. Posters of scantily clad women carrying magic swords and impossibly large handguns cluttered the walls. Cleena recognized Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, but none of the others. A few were even alien, but unmistakably female.

‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.

‘I’m famished,’ she admitted.

‘There is some arabasi soup in the refrigerator.’

‘Sounds delicious.’ Cleena got up from the couch. ‘Want some?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Is there enough for two?’

Sevki turned and grinned at her. ‘Yes, even when one of the two is you. I also baked some ekmek a couple of days ago. Warm that up in the oven-’

‘I know how to fix leftovers,’ Cleena interrupted. ‘I’m not exactly helpless.’

‘You’re right. Not exactly helpless.’

A warm feeling spread throughout Cleena as she set about preparing the simple meal. It felt good to be in the kitchen again, doing something domestic with someone who knew all her secrets. She located the arabasi, poured it into a pan, and warmed it on the stove. She unwrapped the small loaves of ekmek and placed them on the tray inside the oven. Within minutes, the delightful smell of chicken broth and bread filled the apartment.