A second chime indicated a second call. Enos. Opening the second call and networking the three, Alpha said, “And how is Australia?”
“No problems,” Enos said. “Have you heard from Cainan yet?”
They were all nervous about Cainan. Their successes around the globe couldn’t dull their apprehension about facing the mass of special Forces stationed at Fort Bragg. At the same time, it was an excellent test of their true capabilities.
He glanced at his watch, seeing Seth and Enos do likewise on the screen. How alike they all were.
The computer chimed.
Cainan.
Alpha took the call and patched it in, allowing the five of them to talk as though each were in the room despite being worlds apart. “Cainan.” The tone of his voice was loaded with questions that didn’t need to be voiced.
“Bragg is in ruins. The U.S. special forces took large casualties and were unable to mount a successful counterattack.”
Alpha knew well enough that Cainan was delaying the meat of his report. He cleared his throat. “And the girl, Fiona?”
“He was there.”
“King?”
“No, the other one,” Cainan said. “The thorn in our side. He took her.”
Alpha grimaced. The man, whose identity and location were still unknown, but were being tirelessly researched, had first made his presence known at the Siletz Reservation in Oregon. In the confusion, the girl had escaped into the arms of Delta, behind the fortified walls of Fort Bragg. And since then he had thwarted many of their attempts to eliminate those that, know it or not, had the knowledge to undo what had taken half his life to achieve. They had succeeded in as many attempts, but the cumulative knowledge of those now protected in secrecy …
He pushed his fears aside, focusing on the problem at hand. “King will go after her. Wherever he goes, follow him.”
Enos nodded. “He’s resourceful. He’ll find her.”
“He’s being tracked?” Alpha asked.
Cainan’s head bobbed up and down. “The assets did their job. He’s on a jet over the Atlantic.”
“Alone?”
“The other chess pieces left earlier, each leading an individual team. I don’t know where.”
Alpha’s eyes widened momentarily and then he chuckled. “They’ve gone looking for others. Identify which at-risk languages are the most likely targets.”
“You don’t want us to intercept?” Cainan said.
Alpha was grinning. “Not at all. But I think letting several countries know that U.S. special forces intend to invade their territory and abduct their citizens will create a hostile atmosphere that might do the work for us. If any of them are headed for Russia, our friends there will be most welcoming, I’m sure. That would leave only King as a concern for the future.”
“And what if King finds us?” Enos asked.
Alpha smiled and stood, taking a small lizard by the sides and picking it up. “I am leaving for Pontus shortly. And should he track us here…” He held the lizard up and spoke the ancient words he had recited so many times in his mind. The lizard began thrashing in his hand, changing before their eyes. “He will find only death.”
Seth, Enos, and Cainan watched with wide eyes as the video appeared on their laptops in Vietnam, Australia, and the United States. Identical grins stretched on their faces.
After placing the still changing lizard into a large cage, Alpha returned to his seat and paused. Something about killing King was unsatisfactory. The man had taken everything from him except the one thing no man could take: his life. King deserved worse. He deserved to know the same pain. “On second thought, Cainan, take the girl. Bring her to me. If King survives the journey, we will welcome him here.”
He disconnected the call and powered off the computer. When the screen went black, he caught his hideous reflection in the glossy laptop display and frowned. “I’ll take care of you soon enough,” he said before closing the laptop.
He sat back and looked at a clipboard. A long list of communications gear—satellite dishes, servers, routers, miles of cable, and enough computing power to handle a worldwide network—ran down the page and onto two more following it. The writing was in Russian, but after forming an alliance with factions of the Russian military, he had taken the time to learn the language. They were supplying him with the means to change the world, while he supplied them with technological advances. The least he could do was learn the language. It would soon be extinct.
Once he had the missing pieces of the ancient language and the equipment from the Russians was connected, he would access the world’s media—TV, Internet, radio, everything—and undo the damage done to mankind so many millennia ago. The world had been fractured. The original code had been rewritten.
It could be rewritten.
He would remake mankind.
In his image.
He turned to the collection of insects caged on the table behind him and leaned down to them. “But first, let’s see what can be done with you.”
TWENTY-ONE
Rome, Italy
AFTER A FIVE-HOUR flight that ended on the USS Enterprise aircraft carrier deployed to the Mediterranean Sea, a two-hour boat trip, undercover, to Porto Cesareo, followed by a six-hour drive to Rome, King found himself exhausted. To wake himself up and help him fit in with the nighttime tourists, he helped himself to a large cioccolato fondente gelato that Rook had raved about since Queen made him try it during their second trip to Gibraltar. The dark chocolate snack not only tasted good, but was packed with caffeine and sugar that King could already feel opening his eyes.
Working his way through the crowds of locals and tourists mingling by the shops and cafés of the Piazza d’Aracoeli, he paused to watch a family snap photos in front of a Renaissance fountain. The mother and son stood in front of the father, who held a second son on his shoulders. They smiled as a college student used their camera to snap a photo. The flash lit the street and snapped King out of his thoughts. He turned away and quickened his pace.
The street rose up and merged with the Piazzo Venezia, which he crossed and then stopped, looking up. Before him was a staggered ramp of short and deep stairs that led up the Capitoline Hill. Two statues of caped men standing with horses known collectively as the Dioscuri—Castor and Pollux, the sons of Zeus—stood at the top of the hill. Behind them was a large, open plaza designed by Michelangelo with a bronze statue of Marcus Aurelius on horseback. The plaza was surrounded by large buildings built during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, but the one that interested King lay straight ahead—the Palazzo Senatorio, or Senatorial Palace, now used as city hall. He headed up the steps of the bell tower–topped building, past a fountain featuring several river guards, and approached the front door.
Despite being closed for business and to visitors, it was the building through which he would gain access to the Roman Forum’s ruins. The door inched open at his approach. After making sure no one was watching, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.
The main hall inside the palace was dark, lit only by a single flashlight, but King could see the face of George Pierce smiling at him. They had connected by phone during King’s long drive to Rome and he had explained everything as best he could and, hopefully, got Pierce’s mind working on solving the problem of locating a second Herculean Society getaway.
Having seen each other at Lynn’s funeral, which Pierce now knew was bunk, and after speaking for an hour on the phone, the two had no pleasantries to exchange. Pierce motioned down the hall with his head and said, “Follow me.”