the satellite map of Rhodes from Google Earth and tried to find the pulsing blue dot that represented the celestial globe Packard had given Serena. The glare from the sun outside the chopper windows made it too difficult to read the screen until they landed and he jumped off onto the tarmac.
That was when he got the fix: The globe was in the red zone at the convention center, hopefully with the other two.
Conrad signed for his police motorcycle as Firat Kayda. Though the bike belonged to the police department, it wasn't an official police motorcycle and had no siren. When he reached the convention center, his ID badge worked beautifully, and he was able to glide through the checkpoint to the main entrance of the hotel, allegedly to meet his Turkish superiors.
He followed the GPS signal through the hotel atrium and into the airy exhibition area where all kinds of 'green' technology companies promised to turn the Middle East into a tropical paradise for investment and generate fat profits to European investors. 'More than oil' seemed to be the theme, highlighting the commercial benefits of peace in the region.
The bright sunlight provided him with the perfect excuse to keep his sunglasses on, like many others, and look nondescript as he passed a spectacular circular staircase toward the Delphi Amphitheater.
He stopped outside the door and put away his BlackBerry. The security guard glanced at his badge and nodded.
Conrad slipped into the back of the three-level amphitheater, which was packed with almost six hundred delegates. Up on the stage, speaking from the podium before an impressive array of flat-panel screens flashing all sorts of logos and graphics, was Roman Midas.
What does he have to say that any of these people want to hear? Conrad unconsciously shrank back against the wall with a group of bystanders who couldn't find seats. He felt like a convict in a police lineup for Midas to pick out. But all the lights and attention were on Midas now, and Conrad doubted the man could see anyone beyond the front row.
'It's the new alchemy,' Midas proclaimed. 'Water springing forth from the desert.'
High-definition graphics showed how the same deep-mining technology that Midas Minerals amp; Mining had used to extract oil from the 'world's most difficult to reach substrata' could now be harnessed to extract water from the hidden rivers and aquifers of the Sinai Peninsula.
Midas said, 'The dust bowl becomes the bread basket of the Middle East, freeing the region from dependence on foreign agriculture and offering local populations the opportunity to grow and export more than oil.'
The names of various Israeli and Arab partners popped up on the screens to underscore the international cooperation of this 'consortium of leading industries' to 'rid the Middle East of its dependence on oil.'
Well, that's a new one, Conrad thought as he slowly made his way along the curving back wall of the room. He suspected he would come upon a door leading to a projection booth or control room of some kind, which was probably as obscure a place as any to store the globes until they could be moved. He couldn't imagine them alone without armed security. But the only door that appeared was the other rear exit.
He stepped out of the amphitheater into the bar reception area and saw the celestial globe standing there like some piece of art with a young man in a suit and collar-a priest's collar.
Worse, the priest had recognized him.
Damn, Conrad thought as he marched up to the priest.
The priest began, 'Dr. Yeats-'
'Shut up,' Conrad said quietly, and glanced around. 'What the hell is going on?'
'You needn't worry,' the priest said drily. 'This isn't the globe you gave her. This is a fake. She took the real one with her after she removed the tracker and put it inside this one.'
'Where is she…Lorenzo?' Conrad said, reading the priest's ID badge.
Lorenzo had suddenly taken a vow of silence.
Conrad pressed him. 'She's in danger.'
The priest screwed up his eyes at Conrad. 'From whom?'
'Last time, Lorenzo.'
'She's at her three o'clock appointment,' Lorenzo said. 'Do I need to call security?'
'No, but I'm taking this.' Conrad took the globe off its pedestal and walked off with it, leaving an open- mouthed Lorenzo behind.
Outside, Conrad opened the globe, tossed the tracker, and strapped the globe to the back of his motorcycle. Then he pulled out his BlackBerry and called Wanda Randolph.
'Report,' said Wanda.
'Tell Packard she found the tracker. But she's still with the packages. I need you to hack the security system here and see when was the last time her ID badge was scanned.'
'Copy that,' Wanda said.
Conrad looked at his watch. It was 3:05. He was worried he was too late.
Wanda rang him back two minutes later. 'She passed through the checkpoint at Liberty Gate in the Old Town. She's going to the Palace of the Grandmaster with two packages. They're listed only as 'art' on the system.'
But Conrad had hung up at 'Grandmaster,' kick-started his bike, and roared off toward the fortress.
38
Back at the hotel and convention center, Lorenzo crossed the atrium lobby and approached the commanding officer at the security desk. He was an ambitious priest, and Dr. Yeats had given him a golden opportunity to accelerate his rise within the Dei even as he attempted to protect his superiors.
'I just saw the fugitive who murdered Mercedes Le Roche,' Lorenzo said breathlessly. 'Conrad Yeats the American. He is here at the summit.'
The Greek looked at Lorenzo's badge and collar and decided to take the report seriously enough to ask further questions. 'Was he wearing a badge, Father?'
'Yes,' said Lorenzo helpfully. 'The name was Firat Kayda, and it had a red security stripe for access to the inner zones. Holy Mother of God, maybe this American killed Kayda and has taken his place to kill someone here!'
'Please, Father. Do not repeat this. We will investigate.'
Lorenzo detected a dismissive tone in the Greek official's voice. 'You're not going to do any such thing, are you?'
The officer picked up a phone. 'Firat Kayda,' he said, and hung up.
'That's all?' Lorenzo said.
'Please wait, Father.'
The officer attended to some papers with the other officers while Lorenzo watched, burning with anger. A minute later, the Greek saw his frown and looked at a computer terminal. 'Here it is,' he said, looking at a time- stamped video clip of the moment Kayda had passed through the hotel checkpoint. A concerned expression took hold on the Greek's face as the facial-recognition program kicked in. 'There is a high degree of probability that you are correct.'
'At last,' Lorenzo said.
The Greek started typing furiously. 'I am flagging his name and attaching the video for when he presents himself at a checkpoint. He'll be refused entry and arrested immediately.'
'Don't forget that he is armed and dangerous, Officer. He has killed and may kill again.'
The Greek looked up warily. 'Thank you very much, Father. You have been most helpful.'
Lorenzo made the sign of the cross and walked away.
39
