Minutes after refusing treatment at the hospital, Max Seavers was back at the Library of Congress. He ordered it sealed in the name of national security. Kicking over what was left in the secret chamber Yeats had discovered, he nursed his bandaged stump of a finger and examined the split-open celestial globe in the corner.
The globe was an incredible work in its own right, Seavers thought, and looked like it had been fashioned from a single block of fiery bronze or copper.
But the globe was empty.
Yeats had gotten away with whatever was inside.
Until now Seavers had convinced himself that the Alignment's quest for the celestial globe was a distraction from its mission. But now that Conrad Yeats had cut off his finger and gashed his head, he was furious. The smooth, unruffled veneer he had cultivated since his days at Stanford had been punctured forever. Never again could he do a handshake deal with somebody without the knowledge that he was missing something, even if it was only the tip of a finger. For that he would always hate Yeats.
Worse, Seavers knew he would have to report his failure to Osiris, something he had never had to do before.
Seavers stared at the globe in morbid fascination for a full minute before he heard footsteps and turned. It was the wide-eyed black cop, Sergeant Wanda Randolph, nipping at him like some federal terrier with two of her R.A.T.S. The Marines shouldn't have let her in.
'Sir, we've got a problem.'
Once again, he'd have to set her back on her heels. 'You lost the suspect again, Sergeant?'
'The security tapes from the processing room where you were shot, sir. They're gone. Without them we can't verify your story.'
'Why don't you stop trying to cover your ass and start looking for Yeats, Sergeant. While you're at it, maybe you could find my finger, too.'
He saw the fury in her eyes, which he actually thought made her more attractive.
'Yes, sir,' she said.
The sergeant turned and vanished into the tunnel.
Seavers waited until she was gone before he turned his gaze to the Masonic mural depicting King Solomon's Temple on the opposite side of the chamber. The two pillars in front with the orbs atop caught his eye. Like a gateway.
He walked over and ordered two of his Marines from Detachment One over. They lifted the mural away to reveal a small alcove with a Mason's compass symbol to the side. He pushed it and the wall slid open.
So this was how that son of a bitch Yeats got away.
Whatever cool he still possessed disappeared as he ran through the damp tunnel like a madman, even though he knew the chance of catching up to Yeats was nil. A minute later Seavers emerged through a metal door into an alcove in the corner of the ghostly, empty Main Reading Room.
He stopped and looked around. And it suddenly hit him that the silver plate and whatever else Yeats may have taken could still be in the Library, buried somewhere among the thousands of stacks with millions of books. Even if he found Yeats, it could take days or weeks to find whatever the Alignment wanted, if ever.
He looked up at the statues of the world's great teachers ringing the dome looking down at him. He could almost hear their jeers at his failure.
Suddenly all the anger, the frustration and fury building inside him burst forth. In that moment he knew he would do whatever it took to get back whatever Yeats stole from him-starting with his own dignity.
He listened to the deafening silence around him, feeling only his raging pulse. And vibrating cell phone.
He had a text message from Brooke:
YEATS AT THE HILTON.
ROOM 1013.
Seavers smiled. He wouldn't be making that call to Osiris after all.
35
'MY FATHER always said your father was one sick bastard,' said Brooke, who sat on the bed after Conrad finished the pastrami sandwich that room service finally delivered and recounted the events since his father's funeral. Everything except Serena, which admittedly was leaving out a lot. 'You can't actually believe you're a sleeper agent sent by George Washington into the future to save America? This isn't about the future of the republic, Conrad. This is about your father continuing to mess with your mind from the grave.'
Conrad paced back and forth, aware of Brooke looking at him like a crazy person and all the while expecting a knock on the door from Serena.
'Brooke, this is what I know: Washington entrusted a secret to Robert Yates, a secret passed down through the generations to my foster father, who then spent the better part of my childhood training me to unlock it. And I also know that the L'Enfant map, the celestial globe, and the people trying to kill me are for real.'
'Who is trying to kill you, Conrad?'
'I told you, the Alignment.'
She sighed. 'A mystical group of warriors who use the stars to chart the rise of their master civilization?'
'Yeah, and Max Seavers is one of them.'
She blinked. 'The head of DARPA?'
'Yep. This belongs to him.' Conrad showed her the finger of Max Seavers.
'Oh, my God!' She stared at it in horror and looked like she was about to vomit. 'What have you done?'
'Relax, he's alive.' Conrad pocketed the finger in his bathrobe. 'Which is more than I can say about the guard he shot in the head.'
Brooke sat still on the bed, her eyes darting back and forth as if she was processing everything he was telling her. He realized just how crazy it sounded. But at some point he was going to have to deal with the feds, and Brooke through her father Senator Scarborough was his best shot for exoneration. Unless, of course, he wanted to spend the rest of his days hiding out in a monastery and refurbishing toner cartridges.
'Show me this document you found inside this globe.'
'I hid it somewhere.'
She narrowed her eyes. 'You don't have it with you?'
'No, but it had a kind of star map on one side and George Washington's signature at the bottom of the other side.'
'And this is the reason you walked out on me and got mixed up in this crazy conspiracy? Some map and a signature?'
'Maybe,' he said. 'I think the star map was originally drawn in invisible ink. But it's what's on the other side that got me into trouble.'
'But you said there's nothing on the other side, just a signature.'
'I think the rest of that side was written in dissolvable ink. Washington sometimes signed iffy contracts in an ink that would dissolve after a while, effectively making them disappear.'
'And you found this invisible-visible parchment in a golden celestial globe?'
'It looked more like copper, really, but yes. And I think the star map leads to the other globe.'
Her eyes widened. 'There's another globe?'
'Yeah, but I don't know where just yet. I can't believe I was so stupid. There are always two-a celestial globe and a terrestrial globe. Even the old Mason knew it, I could see it in his eyes, but he said nothing.'
