Iris Johansen - Silent Thunder

God, he was bored.

Dananka pressed the surveillance receiver firmly against his ear. He hated this kind of wait and watch bullshit. His talent lay in other directions. Someone else should have been assigned to do this crap job of monitoring Cathy Bryson's incoming calls. All he'd been getting was PTA meeting junk and bereavement calls telling her what a great guy her husband had been.

Another call.

He looked down at his ID box. No ID.

Telemarketer?

"Cathy?"

"My God, Hannah. Why haven't you called me before? I've been worried sick. Are you okay?"

Dananka sat up straight in the seat. Fucking jackpot.

"As okay as I can be considering."

"Considering what?"

"Let's skip it. How are you and the kids?"

"Fine. I'm a little on edge, so I sent the kids to Miriam Frey's for a couple days. Ronnie's best friend is her son, Bobby." She paused. "Hannah, you have to let George help you. This Kirov is bad news."

"Tell me about it," Hannah said grimly. "He doesn't care whether I live or die as long as he gets that other plate."

"What other plate? You told me Pavski had stolen everything you found."

"It was safer for you that way."

"Hannah, damn you."

"It wasn't actually etched on those plates. Evidently Heiser had run out of time or was interrupted or was getting sicker and had to go to his cabin to etch those final coordinates on a plate. I found it behind the desk in the captain's quarters when I went back with Kirov."

"Then give it to Bradworth."

"Not possible. I threw it overboard."

"What?"

"Don't act so shocked. I don't trust Bradworth, and I don't trust Kirov. I wasn't going to let either one of them have it. What if they decided to forget about Pavski and walk away? I can remember and reconstruct the plate if I have to do it."

"And Kirov knows about the plate?"

"He was on the sub when I found it. He was mad as hell when he saw me toss it into the sea. He's been coercing me to do the reconstruction since he saw me drop it overboard. I told him I'd re-create that plate if he gave me Pavski's head." She paused. "But my time's running out. Kirov would as soon break my neck as look at me."

"Give him the plate. Then we'll call Bradworth to rein him in."

"Like hell I will. I'm not giving Kirov anything. He could have saved Conner and didn't do it," Hannah said. "He's on his way back to the sub to see if he can do some scuba diving and resurrect it."

"Is that possible?"

"How do I know? Probably. The seas are relatively quiet in the harbor, and the depth isn't extreme. But at least he's off my back. With any luck, Pavski will stick a shark spear in him. I don't give a damn about the plate." She added wearily, "The only thing that matters to me are you and the kids. The reason I called you is to tell you that I want you to sit tight and be careful. There's no telling what Kirov will do if he doesn't find that plate. He believes he can draw out Pavski with the damn thing."

"Can he?"

"Maybe. I'm flying up this afternoon to check and see if he's managed to find it."

"Call me back," Cathy said. "I worry about you, blast it."

"I'll call when I can." Hannah Bryson hung up.

Dananka was already busily working at his board verifying the number and model of her cell phone. After 9/11 the FCC required all carriers to have the ability to trace calls on cell phones to a hundred meters or less. That meant every cell phone had a built-in GPS that could be tapped given the right circumstances. He sent a tracer to check the nearest tower, and then initiated the access-tracking map device. Two minutes later he had her pinpointed on the map.

"Got you, bitch."

He reached for his phone and called Pavski.

Hannah turned to Kirov. "What do you think?"

"If Pavski's man isn't a complete amateur, he has your phone tagged and will be able to follow you to hell and back." Kirov smiled. "Or preferably just to hell. End of story." He stood aside for her to board the helicopter. "If not, you'll have to make another phone call."

"I stayed on the phone as long as you told me."

"And were suitably insulting." He motioned for the pilot to start the engine. "Was the release of all that suppressed hostility satisfying?"

She shot him a sidewise glance. "Perhaps."

"Well, let's hope you were convincing."

"Do you think Pavski will go for it?"

"Good chance. He has a chance to kill me and get the plate. Or as an alternate, he has a chance to scoop you up and force you to recreate the plate. As far as he's concerned, it's all good." He glanced at his watch. "We should be in Rock Bay Harbor in an hour. My bet is Pavski will be hot on our heels."

The signal on her phone indicates she's heading north," Dananka said. "She's going to the sub. What do I do? Follow her in the helicopter?"

Pavski thought about it. Excitement was tearing through him. Jesus, it was all coming together. He'd known that Cathy Bryson would be the key. "No, you stay here. I'll take Koppel and the two new men, Lepin and Norzalk. I have something else for you to do."

"What?"

"We may have to have leverage if I don't find that plate. Go after the children." He rose to his feet. "And I need at least one of them alive, Dananka."

"Only one?"

"Use your own judgment. I wouldn't mind you showing Hannah Bryson what to expect if she doesn't cooperate." He hung up and moved toward the door.

The Golden Cradle was shimmering in the distance, but it was getting nearer and nearer.

Almost in his hands, almost here…

MIDIA, TURKEY

Where the hell was that statue? Eugenia wondered impatiently. It had to be here. She'd gotten vague directions from the head of the artist colony in Athens, but his information had been entered in their directory in 1937, and the statue could have crumbled into dust in that time. No, the torn and faded brochure she'd picked up on the porch of the tourist agency had listed it as the gem of their historical collection.

Some gem, she thought. This tiny park in the middle of town that was supposed to house the tribute to the Argonauts was deserted and overgrown. She doubted if anyone came here anymore, including passing tourists. One look at this tangle of brush, and they would pass on to greener pastures, or maybe that more welcoming coffeehouse down the street.

She shone the beam of her flashlight around the area in front of her. More overgrown brush and low-hanging branches. How could she find the damn-

There it was!

A glimpse of gray stone in the depths of green foliage in the path to the left.

She moved forward eagerly. No, not smart. She cautiously slowed her pace. This park might not be as deserted as it seemed. Danzyl might have made the connection too.

She played the beam around the surrounding area as she went toward the statue.

No sign of anyone.

No movement in the brush.

No sound…

Okay, but that didn't mean Danzyl might not be on her heels. Take the picture and get out.

She shined the flashlight on the statue. Jason with his arm raised in triumph, holding the Golden Fleece.

She took the picture and lowered the beam to the base. The same symbol that was on the other statue and another inscription. She took the picture of it and moved closer to get a better shot.

A rustle in the bushes to the left…

She dove forward and hit the ground rolling.

A bullet struck the ground next to her.

Jesus, she was a sitting duck.

She rolled behind the statue and got to her knees.

The stone splintered as a bullet struck the statue beside her head.

But she had a fix on where the bullet came from now.

Don't move, you son of bitch, she entreated silently. Just let me get one shot before you come in for the kill.