Their host, a squat Turk named Khalil, zipped the small caravan of SUVs through the busy evening traffic of downtown Istanbul. He didn’t say much, probably because of the reaming he’d taken from Jabez on account of his tardiness. But Sean got the impression he was more a man of action rather than words. He wore a short red fez, a linen long sleeve shirt and matching pants, and sported a Fu Manchu style moustache and goatee. His dark hair was slightly receded, giving Sean the impression the portly man to be roughly in his mid to upper forties. Since Khalil hadn’t said a word on their drive into town, it was unclear whether the man spoke English or not.
The vehicle turned into a driveway that was blocked off by an ornate, bronze gate. Palm trees and shrubbery lined the pavement beyond the entrance, leading to a five-story hotel overlooking the Mediterranean. The gate opened slowly and the two SUV’s passed through, zipping their way down the driveway and to the front of the hotel. Several valets waited under a giant awning made of plaster, accented with cedar cross beams and paneling. The valets were dressed in uniforms that almost looked like Turkish military garb, with gold tassels and medallions dangling from their shoulders and chests. They quickly opened the doors for the new arrivers and began busily asking which things they could take.
When Jabez exited the vehicle, a younger valet stared at him with uneasy apprehension. Jabez was an imposing figure, and when he wasn’t smiling, that sense was only amplified. The young man got over it quickly and asked if there was anything he could take in. Jabez shook his head but never broke the stern look on his face. The valet rushed off to help someone else.
Firth was clearly used to a life of convenience, and all too happy to allow the men to carry his few bags. He carried himself with an exhausted dignity through the bronze-framed doors.
Inside the hotel, the guests were greeted by tan marble floors and matching pillars. Hundreds of thousands of mosaic tiles covered the walls in dramatic fashion. Signature domed archways hung over openings in a hexagonal lobby. The portals led to the different sections of the facility containing the hotel quarters, dining and entertainment areas, exercise and spa area, and the lobby in which they were standing.
Sean’s head spun around a full 360 degrees as he admired the craftsmanship that had gone into creating the palatial hotel.
“I guess your friend has a decent connection here, huh?” he quipped at Jabez.
The Arab cocked his head for a second as if making such arrangements were just another typical day at the office. A few moments later, his driver was handing out room keys and giving directions for finding their rooms.
Adriana noticed that Jabez and his four men didn’t receive a key.
“Where are you and your men staying?” She prodded.
He turned and smiled at her. “We will be in a home not far from here. A place like this is far too grand for simple men like us. Humble quarters are all we require. And we must also pray for strength tonight.” He smiled wide with the last part. “All of this would be an easy distraction,” Jabez waved his hand around dramatically showing off the extravagant interior of the lobby.
The Arab turned back to Sean. “I will return in the morning to pick you up at 8:00 o’clock, Istanbul time. So, be sure you have eaten a big breakfast. It will be a few hours drive to the border. Arrangements have been made so the Armenians will know we are coming, and should not give us any trouble.”
“That’s good to know.”
Firth was still frowning. Sean had figured the man had grown tired of all the intrigue. The older professor was what Sean and Tommy called a “classroom archaeologist.” They rarely got out and did any exploration in their twilight years.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” the older man said, bobbing his head and fedora as he spoke, “but I am going to bed. I shall see you in the morning.” He waved a dismissive hand and plodded off in the wrong direction through the entryway of the spa.
Sean snorted a quick laugh, knowing in a moment the professor’s dramatic exit would be ruined with a U-turn and an embarrassing walk to the other side of the lobby.
Sure enough, thirty seconds later Firth re-appeared and stalked quickly across the marble tiles, past the lavish beige couches, and through the correct portal. Adriana snickered slightly.
“I suppose we should turn in as well,” Sean put out a hand for Jabez, who took it and gripped it appreciatively.
“We will see you tomorrow. I pray the Father keeps us safe.”
The man spun around and ushered the rest of his men out the doors. His last sentence lingered in Sean’s mind, though. He couldn’t help but wonder why they wouldn’t be safe. It was doubtful Lindsey was on the same trail. But experience had taught him to never get too comfortable. As soon as you did was when the enemy could rear its ugly head.
He followed Adriana across the room and into a great hallway lined with bronze candle sconces. A thick burgundy carpet ran the length of it atop more of the marble tiles like the ones they’d seen in the lobby. A set of elevator doors opened up to the left as they neared.
A few moments later, they had reached their floor and were walking down a hall that mirrored the one they’d just left.
They’d been silent since leaving the lobby, but Adriana broke the quiet. “Sean, my father does covert operations for various governments of the world.”
The sudden confession caught him off guard. “I’m sorry. Your dad does what?”
“Technically, you could consider him to be a spy. Now, he mainly does contract work for different agencies connected to the United States government.”
They stopped walking at an intersection of two hallways. A glass-ceilinged dome loomed above them. Enormous pots with small palm trees dotted the corners of the circular intersect.
Sean’s eyebrows stitched together. “Espionage? Your father?” It was rare when someone surprised him. But he had to admit to himself this was one of those times that really caught him off guard.
Adriana could tell he wasn’t sure about the idea. “It isn’t as bad as you make it sound. He doesn’t work for any bad people,” she defended with a slight pout.
He shook his head, still confused. “I’m sorry. Why are you telling me this anyway?”
“Because. He may be able to help us uncover whatever it is Lindsey is up to. My father has connections in places some of your friends may not. It could be worth a try.”
Sean nodded slowly, finally understanding the connection. “Okay,” he agreed. “See what he can find out. I will contact Emily and she what she has turned up. Call me if you hear anything interesting.”
She smiled wryly. “I texted him over an hour ago. If father can find anything, he will be calling soon.”
He gave an impressed smile and walked the remaining twenty feet to their rooms. Hers was across the hall, and she looked back after unlocking it with her card key. Sean had turned around as well to watch her for a second. He cast an awkward smile across the six-foot space.
“You don’t have to stay in your room if you don’t want to, Sean.” Her voice was confident and hopeful. The Spanish accent was intoxicating and filled his ears like music. Her figure beckoned to him as she stood with one hand on a hip. Every instinct told Sean to step across the hall, wrap his arm around her slender waist, and press his lips into hers. He could tell from the look in her chocolate, almond shaped eyes that she was hoping he would.
For a few seconds, Sean imagined what her firm, tight body would feel like. The outline of her athletic legs in those tight pants she always seemed to wear was almost too much to bear.
But something made him hesitate, made him decline every natural instinct that was roaring inside his head. “I need to get cleaned up,” he basically ignored the invitation. “It’s been a long day, and we should get some rest. Please, though, let me know if you hear anything from your father.”