Jesus, it seemed like years ago now.
And then suddenly Race recalled when, at one point during the flight, the little sing-song bell on Nash's laptop computer had tinkled. He remembered it clearly—it had been just after he'd finished translating Nash's partial copy of the manuscript.
And then it dawned on him.
This was why Nash had brought him to Vilcafor—despite the fact that at the very start of the mission Nash had said that if he finished translating the manuscript before they landed Race wouldn't even have to get off the plane. But Nash had brought him along anyway. And why?
Because Nash couldn't have any witnesses.
Since his was a secret mission—an Army mission trying to undercut a Navy mission—Nash couldn't risk leaving any witnesses alive.
'I was going to kill you two days ago,' Nash said, 'after we opened the temple. But then that German BKA team arrived and interrupted my plans. They opened the temple and, well, who could have guessed what they'd find inside it. But then, then we got those extra sections of the manuscript, and I was glad I hadn't killed you.'
'I'm so pleased you were happy,' Race said flatly.
Just then, out of curiosity more than anything else, while he had the computer in front of him, Race double- clicked on the other message that mentioned his name, the one titled 'SUPERNOVA MISSION'.
The full message appeared on the screen.
Oddly, however, it was a message that Race had seen before, right at the start of the mission, back when he had been travelling through New York in the motorcade.
3 JAN 1999 22:01 US ARMY INTERNAL NET 617 5544 88211-05 NO.139
From: Nash, Frank
To: All Cuzco Team Members
Subject: SUPERNOVA MISSION
Contact to be made with Race ASAP.
Participation crucial to success of mission.
Expect package to arrive tomorrow 4 January at Newark at 0945.
All members to have equipment stowed on the transport by 0900.
Race frowned at the words.
Contact Race ASAP.
Participation crucial to success of mission.
When he had first seen the message, Race hadn't really paid much attention to it. He had just assumed it was a reference to himself - William Race—and that it was he who should be contacted immediately.
But what if it actually meant someone else the Army had to get in touch with. Some other Race.
In which case it meant that contact should be made with Marty.
Race looked up from the computer in horror, just as his brother stepped out of the line of dead Navy and DARPA people and shook hands with Frank Nash.
'How are you, Marty?' Nash said familiarly.
'I'm well, Frank. It's good to finally catch up with you.'
Race's mind was in a spin.
His eyes flashed from Nash and Marty to the dead bodies on the muddy street, and from them to the copy of the manuscript lying in the mud next to Ed Devereux's body.
And then suddenly it all made sense.
Race saw the ornate calligraphy on the text, the stunning medieval artwork. It was identical to the Xeroxed copy of the Santiago Manuscript that he had translated for Nash on the way to Peru.
Oh, no…
'Marty, you didn't…'
'I'm sorry you had to get caught up in all this, Will,' Marty said.
'We had to get a copy of the manuscript somehow,' Nash said. 'God, when those Nazis raided that monastery in France and stole the real manuscript, they set off a chase like you wouldn't believe. Suddenly, everybody in the world who had a Supernova had the chance to get a live sample of thyriurn. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Then, when we inter cepted a DARPA transmission saying that there was a second copy of the manuscript in existence, we simply arranged for someone at DARPA to get a Xerox of it for us—Marty.'
But how? Race thought. Marty was with DARPA, he wasn't with the Army. Where was the link? How was Marty associated with Nash and Army Special Projects?
At that moment, he saw Lauren go over to Marty and kiss him lightly on the cheek.
What the… ?
It was then that Race saw the ring on Marty's left hand.
A wedding ring.
