McBride leaned closer.
Autism is triggered by a mix of environmental factors coupled with a variable number of ten genes. What we discovered was that the strongest of the savants our Omega-class subjects carried a specific three genes. Three genetic markers. When they appeared in just the right sequence, coupled with mild to moderate autism, an amazing savant talent would arise.
Which you in turn augmented further, McBride said. Creating a perfect storm of genetics and bioengineering.
Yuri nodded.
Brilliant. Truly brilliant. Then it was just as well we used Archibald to lure one of your Omega subjects out into the open. And all the more reason for us to get hold of that girl.
Yuri startled. Concern rang through him. You don't have Sasha?
McBride frowned and tilted back to his chair. No, but in the past hour, we've determined where she is likely being kept. And it seems the same group has sent a team to follow in Archibald's footsteps. Luckily we have taken measures to erase those footsteps completely.
Who who has Sasha?
You want to know? McBride glowered down at Yuri. It was plainly a sore spot for the man. I'll show you.
He motioned to Chen.
No!
Yuri's chest lit with fire, streaking in jagged lines across his chest, linking point to point, forming a crooked symbol on his chest, a letter, a fiery Greek letter.
McBride growled through Yuri's agony. They won't be a problem for long.
2:04 P. M.
Agra, India
Despite her father's fascination, Elizabeth had never been to India. She stared out the taxi van as it swept away from the airport. The windows were down but offered little relief from the heat, well over a hundred degrees.
Traffic moved at a snail's pace, snarled amid rickshaws pulled by both bicycles and even one camel. She was close enough to a neighboring taxi, whose windows were also open, that she could smell the driver's thin cigar as he chewed on its end. The smoke cut like a knife through the density of the city's mTlange of curry, filth, and cooking grease. The neighboring driver huffed at the traffic and pounded the heel of his hand on his horn.
The blare was barely heard above the chaos, made worse by a festival under way ahead, bright with the sounds of cymbals. All around, pedestrians packed the sidewalks and walked through the creeping cars, fighting for space with bicycles and motorcycles.
Elizabeth found her breathing growing heavier, her chest constricting not from the humidity and heat but from the press of humanity. She wasn't normally claustrophobic, but the noise, the unending vibrancy, the hawk and holler of so many people, blanketed her, squeezed her. Her hands formed fists on her knees.
Finally, through judicious use of his own horn, the taxi driver broke through a gap and pushed for the next intersection. He turned the corner, and the way opened to a wider thoroughfare that aimed straight for the heart of the city.
Elizabeth sighed in relief.
Finally, Kowalski said next to her, echoing her sentiment. We should've rented a van. I could've gotten us there faster.
The large man was crammed against her side, but he seemed to sense her distress and tried to keep back, which didn't help the other passenger sharing their row.
Beyond Kowalski, Shay Rosauro elbowed the large man for more room. Her face shone with a sheen of sweat. She had used the time stuck in traffic to undo the black bandanna that bound her hair and refold it into an efficient head scarf that tucked behind her ears.
Gray, who sat in the front passenger's seat of the van, leaned toward the driver and pointed. The driver nodded. Gray settled back into place.
The final member of their company sat in the back row of the van. Luca Hearn wore an inscrutable expression, but his dark eyes seemed to watch everything. He had strapped two daggers to wrist sheaths before leaving the plane, prepared for an unwelcome homecoming to the land of his people.
Gray twisted in his seat. We'll be at the hotel in another ten minutes, he called back to them.
The taxi sped to where the road ended at the Yamuna River. Its waters glinted like blue steel in the bright sunlight, lined by palms. To the left rose a massive fort built of red sandstone, with high parapets and thick walls.
Reaching the river, they turned away from the fort and followed the curve of the waterway.
Traffic slowed again, but in only a few minutes, the view opened to the left, revealing an expansive parkland of meadows, gardens, reflecting pools, and patches of forest. The greenbelt hugged the banks of the river, but the true wonder seemed to float above it all, a cloud of white marble set against the shimmering blue sky.
The Taj Mahal.
The mausoleum was an engineering wonder and an architectural marvel. But at the moment, it appeared more like a dream, aglow and drifting in the heavens. Built over three centuries ago by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan, to mark the final resting place of his beloved wife, it was to many a testament to the eternity of love.
But it was not their destination.
The taxi van skirted to the side and pulled up to a five-story white building, lined at each level by large arched windows, the Deedar-e-Taj Hotel. It was here they were to meet Dr. Hayden Masterson.
The restaurant is on the top, Elizabeth said as they piled out. She checked her watch. They were half an hour late.
Gray paid the driver, and they all crossed past a dancing fountain into the hotel lobby, gloriously air- conditioned.
Kowalski, Gray said and pointed to the front desk, you and Luca secure our rooms. We'll head up. He nodded to Elizabeth and Rosauro.
Kowalski sighed heavily, but he mumbled something about a cold shower. He hovered a moment near Elizabeth as Gray turned toward the elevator. Are you okay? he mumbled to her.
Me?
Back in the taxi. I thought maybe you looked sort of He shrugged.
Just the heat maybe nerves, she mumbled.
I have just the ticket. He leaned conspiratorially over to her and parted his suit jacket enough to reveal two cigars in an inner pocket. Cubans. From the duty-free shop at the airport.
She smiled at him. She could almost kiss him right now.
Before she could say anything, the elevator chimed behind her. Gray called for her to hurry.
Kowalski straightened and patted his jacket. He winked at her as he turned away.
Actually winked. Who still winked? Still, her smile did linger on her lips as she turned to join Gray and Rosauro.
Gray ushered her inside and punched the button for the top floor. Is there anything else we should know about Dr. Masterson? he asked her.
Just don't mention Manchester United, she mumbled.
The soccer team?
Trust me, or you'll never hear a word about my father or his research. Also, don't push him. Let him get to the point in his own time.
The elevator doors whisked open upon a strange sight. A large restaurant filled the roof level, sparsely occupied at this hour. Tables were set with linen and fine china. The smell of curry and garlic lingered tantalizingly in the air.
But what was unusual was that the entire restaurant slowly rotated. It spun through a panoramic view of the city, including the Taj Mahal.
At a table by one of the windows, a tall man unfolded from his seat. He lifted an arm, then lowered it, and tapped at his wristwatch.
Elizabeth smiled and crossed toward him, stepping onto the turning platform. It was a bit disconcerting at
