Sign of the Cross

absence to go on archaeological digs around the world, including the privately funded excavation he was on in Orvieto.’

‘No shocker there.’

‘Hang on, I’m getting to the good part. In addition to funds he received from private donors, he also received a yearly stipend from American Cargo International.’ He glanced at Jones and waited for a reaction. ‘Does that name ring any bells?’

‘Not really.’

‘Well, it should. We’ve done business with them on more than one occasion.’

And that’s when the name clicked in Jones’s head. American Cargo International wasn’t a business. It was a front, a company in name alone that enabled groups like the MANIACs to carry out their missions. The money for their operations had to come from somewhere, and it obviously couldn’t be a public source — that would be too difficult to explain to the taxpayers. So dummy companies were established to help foot the bills. The FBI had Red River Mining, the Navy had Pacific Salvage, and the Pentagon had too many companies for Payne to remember.

Yet that wasn’t the case with ACI, because the men who ran that particular fund were so egotistical, so sure that they’d never get caught, that they barely bothered to hide what they were doing. Scramble the initials of American Cargo International, and the identity of its parent organization could quickly be discovered: ACI stood for the CIA.

‘So what does that mean?’ Jones asked, still trying to connect the dots.

‘It means that Boyd was onto something big, and the CIA wanted to be a part of it. By financing his dig, they had a rightful claim to anything he discovered.’

‘So that’s why Manzak has such a hard-on for him. He thinks Boyd found what they were looking for, then decided to skip town.’ Jones chuckled to himself, half-embarrassed. ‘Man, I feel so used! We’re nothing more than Manzak’s bill collectors.’

‘Not exactly… The news gets worse from here.’

He looked at Payne, concerned. ‘What did we do now?’

‘Nothing. It’s what Manzak and Buckner did that scares me.’

‘Oh God, what did those schmucks do?’

‘It seems that they got themselves killed.’

‘As in dead? Manzak and Buckner are dead? Who the hell killed ’em?’

‘Strangely, a team of Serbian rebels outside of Kosovo.’

‘Kosovo? What the hell were they doing there? We just talked to them…’ Click. His mental lightbulb went on. ‘Ah, son of a bitch! I can’t believe this shit. What year did they die?’

‘According to the Pentagon computer, 1993. Of course, the CIA still lists them on their active roster because they’re unwilling to admit that Manzak and Bucker were even in Kosovo. I mean, that might cause a scandal.’

Jones sighed, ignoring the sarcasm. Payne could tell he was pissed that he hadn’t discovered the Kosovo information two days ago. If he had, it would’ve radically altered their plan of attack. Instead of searching for Dr Boyd, they would’ve spent all of their time trying to uncover Manzak’s true identity and what he wanted from them.

‘That’s why they were clean when I searched their backgrounds,’ Jones explained. ‘I only have partial access to the database, but my intel listed them as active agents in good standing.’

‘Of course they were in good standing. It’s tough to break the rules when you’re dead.’

‘Good point.’

‘Speaking of which, why do I get the feeling that we’re going to end up dead if we don’t figure out what we’re involved in?’

Jones nodded, sensing the same thing. They weren’t dealing with petty criminals who’d let them walk away without completing their agreement. These men had enough power to swing a deal with the Spanish government, forge impeccable CIA credentials, and uncover their top secret backgrounds without any problems at all. There was no way in hell that they would let Payne and Jones turn their backs on them without finding Boyd.

They were loose ends that they’d have to deal with whether they finished their task or not.

That’s why Payne and Jones decided to push on. They figured the more cards they had, the safer they’d be.

Manzak and Buckner had died in 1993, yet Payne had talked to them a few days ago without a seance. Dr Boyd could be linked to the CIA through a series of payments, although the dead spooks failed to mention anything about that. Plus, more than forty people had been killed near Orvieto in the last week, yet Payne didn’t know why. Or by whom. Or where all the evidence was. These were just a few of the things Payne discussed with Jones as they walked to the university’s photo lab to see the photos that Frankie had developed for them.

‘You know,’ Payne grumbled, ‘the more I learn about this case, the more I get confused.’

‘Really? I think things are coming together nicely. Let’s assume that Boyd was paid to steal some antiques from some key European countries. That way, when the CIA needed some top secret information, they could trade the artifacts for whatever they needed. But let’s assume that Boyd got greedy and decided to keep the relics for himself. In that case, what were Manzak and Buckner — or whatever their real names are — supposed to do? Chase Boyd all over Europe and risk getting caught? Why do that when they could get two ex- MANIACs to track him for free?’

Not too shabby, Payne thought to himself. His theory didn’t explain everything — like the exploding bus, the identity of the brunette, or the true identity of Manzak and Buckner — but it utilized everything else. Of course, Payne didn’t have anything to support Jones’s hypothesis, things like proof or evidence. But he wasn’t a cop, so he didn’t give a damn about that crap. All he cared about was finding Dr Boyd. Payne figured by getting ahold of him he’d have enough leverage with Manzak and Buckner to break away cleanly.

Anyhow, they reached the darkroom a few minutes later and were pleased to find Frankie waiting with the film. He said, ‘I not sure what you learn from these. There is hotel, and the church, and the helicopter… Orvieto is quite beautiful, no?’

‘Very,’ Payne said as he flipped through the prints. ‘How’d you recognize the town?’

‘Orvieto is known to my people. Just like Egyptians know the pyramids of Giza or Chinamen know Xi’an, we know about Orvieto — and the stories of its treasure.’

‘Treasure?’ Jones asked. ‘What treasure?’

‘Mamma mia! You been there and not know its treasures? How can this be?’

‘We weren’t exactly on a sightseeing tour.’

‘Ah, yes, I forget! You there on official business. Please, since this is so, let me explain Orvieto to you. It will make you — how you say? — understand photos good.’

Jones shook his head. ‘Maybe some other time. We’re in a hurry right now.’

‘Please! This may explain why Dottore Boyd was in Orvieto and what he is wanting.’

They somehow doubted that, but they humored Frankie anyway.

‘For years there are stories about Orvieto. When pope looked for shelter during holy war, people say he no live on top of rock. They say he live under rock, deep inside land. No one knows how this be since no one dig for him, but too many stories for me not to believe.’

‘What are you saying?’ Payne asked. ‘He lived underground?’

‘Yes! He so scared for his life he do what he can. He make tunnels to escape. He grow crops to eat. He make well to have water. All of this to hide from enemies.’

‘We saw the well,’ Payne admitted. ‘Regrettably, so did our friend with the camera.’

‘But what of tunnels? Did you see the tunnels? They are — how you say? — very cool crap. They go beneath the street like sewer. I feel like Indian Jones when I crawl through them!’

Payne smiled at the reference. ‘Didn’t you say something about a treasure?’

‘Si! A magnificent treasure, one that no one has found.’

Jones shook his head. ‘Sorry, but I find that hard to believe. I’m a huge history buff, and I’ve never heard anything about Orvieto’s treasure. How famous could it be if I’ve never heard of it?’

Frankie shrugged. ‘Maybe your country no make it famous? I do not know. In my country Orvieto be famous. Catacombs be famous. Everyone in my country know Catacombs.’