deep snow of winter.
Skimming overhead, Nava tilted the helicopter to circle the area so they could check out any activity on the ground. They could see both military and police vehicles lined along the road leading into and out of town, which seemed strangely deserted.
“That’s not a good sign,” Lev said, peering down at the silent village.
Nava looked off to her right and saw a Spanish military helicopter rising up to meet them. “What do you want me to do, Professor?”
“Head straight for the GPS coordinates of the crash site and set down outside their perimeter.”
Nava dipped the nose and hugged the treetops, confusing the pilot of the Spanish helicopter who tucked in behind them in a classic attack maneuver.
A Spanish-accented voice speaking in the universal aviation language of English suddenly filled their headsets. “Israeli aircraft, you are in restricted Spanish airspace. Please turn around immediately and follow us.”
“What now?”
“Don’t answer. Keep going.”
Nava looked up as two Spanish fighter jets streaked by overhead. “These guys mean business, Professor.”
Just then they saw it-a long scar of blackened earth that crossed a green mountain pasture and ended at a solid rock wall. Olive-drab-painted military vehicles lined a rutted dirt road, while on the other side of a farmer’s fence, yellow tape surrounded bits of glinting metal that littered the countryside. It was obviously the crash site, although strangely, no soldiers were visible.
“This is getting weird,” Alon said. “Maybe we should do as they say and turn around.”
Lev peered down at the wreckage and adjusted the microphone on his headset. “Land.”
Nava simply nodded her head and swung the helicopter around into a descending arc. After a brief hover, she set it down outside the yellow-taped perimeter and switched off the engine. They remained inside with the doors closed, surrounded by an eerie silence as the main rotor rotated to a stop. The Spanish helicopter following them had mysteriously disappeared, as had the two fighter jets that had flown by earlier.
Looking through the windows of the helicopter, they all stared out at the blackened spot in the distance, a stark reminder of what can happen when a hurtling state-of-the-art piece of modern technology comes into contact with a billion-year-old wall of solid rock at almost five hundred miles per hour.
A knock on the left side of the chopper made everyone inside jump. Turning around, they saw several smiling men and women dressed much like college backpackers on holiday in Europe. A tall, blond-haired man wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt, shorts, and hiking boots, reached out and opened the helicopter’s rear door.
“Professor Wasserman?”
“That would be me,” Lev said, grasping the back of the seat as he climbed from the chopper.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. We’re from the university in Madrid. My name is Dr. Javier Mendoza. These are some of my associates. Please, come with us … there is no longer any danger from the pathogen.”
Slowly, the surprised group inside the helicopter stepped out to an enthusiastic welcome from what appeared to be a group of academics.
Mendoza walked up to Leo and bowed slightly from the waist as he extended his hand. “You must be Cardinal Leopold Amodeo. I recognize you from your pictures. It’s an honor to meet you, Your Eminence.”
“Thank you. Likewise Javier. Where are all the soldiers?”
“They’re all around us. Their commander has them out patrolling the fields to keep anyone from getting too close to the site. There are several soldiers in that communications van over there watching over us.”
“Is that how you knew who we were?”
Mendoza smiled. “Yes. The Spanish authorities received a call from the Vatican just as the fighters were receiving orders to shoot you out of the sky.”
Nava removed her helmet and threw it into the pilot’s seat while glaring back at Lev. “Sometimes you play it a little too close, Professor. Next time we call ahead.”
“Sorry, Nava. I guess I’m a product of the old school. Back then, Israeli soldiers were taught to think on their feet and take chances. We wouldn’t have won the Six Day War if we had called ahead to our commanders for permission to advance.”
“Excuse me, Doctor,” Alon said, staring at Mendoza’s tie-dyed T-shirt. “But if this site’s safe, why do you still have soldiers patrolling the area?”
“Ah, a good question. You must be a soldier yourself. The soldiers were just preparing to leave when they heard there was a helicopter with Israeli markings headed this way. The army commander thought it might be a cover for terrorists looking to gather samples of the pathogen.” Mendoza paused before looking Lev right in the eye. “We’ve heard rumors that it was artificially engineered.”
Lev cleared his throat and looked at Leo, but the two remained silent. After speaking with one of the female members of the Spanish group, Nava turned and walked back over to them.
“These people are some of Spain’s best scientists. The girl I was just talking to is a microbiologist. They were dropped into the area yesterday in bio-hazard suits to look for signs of the pathogen. They didn’t find anything. Either the virus was never onboard, or it was incinerated in the crash.”
“I think it’s time we offered prayers for Cardinal Orsini and the others who were onboard,” Leo said. “Can we move a little closer to the site?”
Mendoza motioned them toward the grassy mountain pasture. “Of course, Cardinal … please, follow me.”
“Are you a medical doctor, Javier?”
“I’m an anthropologist. Our group is part of a multi-disciplinary rapid response team formed by the Spanish government to investigate bio-terrorist threats.”
“So you think this was an act of terrorism?”
“Who knows, but after the events in New York and Italy, we’re not taking any chances, especially since this aircraft was flying directly from New York.”
As they neared the site of the crash, they could all smell the unmistakable odor of burnt jet fuel lingering in the air along with the smell of something else not so easily identified. Except for the tail section of the aircraft, none of the other wreckage was recognizable. Looking ahead at the rock wall at the end of the field, they saw the starburst pattern of a high-speed impact and the dark evidence of an intense post-crash fire. Tendril-like sections of burned grass extended outward from the site, along with pieces of metal mixed in with churned and blackened mud still moist from the efforts of the first firefighters at the scene.
Leo walked ahead and stopped. The others watched as he raised his right hand in the sign of the cross and said a brief prayer before motioning them forward. Slowly, hesitantly, they all walked forward across a debris field usually inhabited by grazing sheep. Quickening his pace, Mendoza soon caught up with the cardinal and walked beside him in silence for a moment before speaking. “Our team has been instructed from the highest levels in the Spanish government to give you any assistance that you might need, Your Eminence.”
“Thank you, Javier. Were you able to recover any bodies?”
Mendoza lowered his eyes. “Only parts, Your Eminence. They were removed to the morgue in Barcelona. I’m afraid we’ll have to rely on DNA testing for identification.”
“Anything else?” Alon asked. “Sometimes we find papers from the aircraft scattered around the impact site.”
“We found some napkins, but that was about it. Oh, we also found a small crucifix, but it looked so old we weren’t sure if it was from the crash or had been here in the ground for years. People have lived up here since Medieval times. We sent it to Barcelona with the human remains.”
“What about that?” The others turned to see Nava pointing to the ground twenty yards from the center of the impact zone. Following her gaze, they saw something reflecting the sunlight. There, in a patch of unburned grass, lay a gold ring radiating a bluish light. Looking closer, they saw that the ring held a brilliant blue sapphire.
“We’ve been over this area at least ten times with metal detectors,” Mendoza said, “and the only things we
