Booker shot her a dubious look but cranked the wheel over anyway. They backtracked fifty yards, keeping the engines at low RPMs, both of them scanning the water but unable to see anything except their own wake.
“You sure you saw something?”
Doubt crept into Cali’s eyes. “I thought I did.”
“Come on, we’ve got to get Devrin to a hospital.” He had cranked the wheel again and eased up the throttles when Cali shouted and pointed. On the crest of their fading wake a man was lying facedown in the water. Booker changed direction and gunned the engines. In seconds they were gliding by the pitiable figure.
“I don’t believe it.”
Cali grabbed a life ring and jumped over the side of the boat. The ring was torn from her hands when she hit the water and was driven deep but she found it when she resurfaced. She began to paddle wildly, pushing the ring ahead of her. It hit the man and turned him over. One arm came out of the water and draped over the flotation device. Mercer lifted his head from the water with a rakish grin on his battered but still handsome face. “I never figured Booker would try to steal my girl.”
Cali kissed him hungrily but Mercer had to push her back. His mouth was a bloody mess. “How?” she asked as they bobbed in the water.
“The tunnel was only partially collapsed,” Mercer panted. “I used Poli’s scuba gear to swim down until I found a place where the earthquake had opened up the ceiling enough for me to fit through. I let buoyancy do the rest.”
Arlington, Virginia
“Hi, Harry. I’m home,” Mercer called as he stepped through the doorway, feeling like a suburban husband from a fifties TV show.
Harry must have gotten the same feeling because he growled down from the upstairs bar, “I’m not getting your pipe and slippers.”
“What about mine?” Cali asked with a smile.
“Pipes are unladylike and I’ve got a foot fetish so I’d rather see you without slippers.” Harry’s tone then darkened. “Can you guys come up here? There’s something you have to listen to.”
Mercer was on crutches because of his bad knee and it took him a few moments to negotiate the curving staircase. Harry got up from his bar stool when they entered. He looked at the crutches and scoffed. “I lost my leg fifty odd years ago and only just started using a cane, while you get a little boo-boo on your knee and you’re on crutches.”
“Painkillers too,” Mercer said a little dreamily. “Lots and lots of painkillers, which I plan to mix with a drink and promptly pass out.”
Harry kissed Cali’s cheek. “With his face all banged up like that no one would blame you for dumping him and going out with me.”
“I don’t think I could keep up with you,” she teased back.
“I’d go easy on you.” He smiled lecherously. “Seriously, when Mercer called from Egypt I was very relieved you were okay. And Booker too. I like him.”
“What about me?” Mercer asked sarcastically.
“I’ve seen your will. I get the house if you buy the farm so I was rooting for the terrorists.”
“You’re all heart.” Mercer settled onto one of the couches, laying the crutches on the floor. Drag sprawled on the opposite couch with his legs raised stiffly in the air. If not for his snoring Mercer would have thought he was dead. “You’ve got something we need to hear.”
Harry went behind the bar. He fixed drinks for everyone, then set the answering machine on the polished mahogany. Cali handed Mercer his gimlet and sat next to him. “Couple of things actually. First off, Ira called with a report out of Russia. Seems they recovered seventy barrels of plutonium from that train. They’re on their way to a permanent storage facility.”
“We counted sixty-eight,” Cali said.
Harry held up a finger for her to be patient. “They did a check of them and discovered two had recently been submerged in sea water.”
“We were right about Popov then,” Mercer said. “He was in Novorossiysk to find those last two drums and cover his ass.”
“Ira said that his arrest, trial, and execution took place yesterday.”
“Gotta love Russian justice,” Mercer said. “What’s the second thing?”
“A guy called yesterday when I was doing the crossword. I let the machine pick it up but when I figured out what I was listening to I grabbed the phone. Listen for yourself.” He pressed the play button.
“Ah yes, Dr. Mercer, I apologize for not calling sooner; however I was on an archaeological dig near Ephesus.” Mercer didn’t recognize the voice but the accent sounded Turkish. The speaker also sounded elderly. “This is Professor Ibriham Ahmad of the University of Istanbul. I understand you wanted to discuss the legend of the Alembic of Skenderbeg. There’s really nothing to it but I will be happy to talk to you. Feel free to-” The answering machine beeped.
“That’s when I picked up,” Harry said.
The warm glow of the Percocets coursing though Mercer’s veins turned into a cold chill. When he found his voice he said stupidly, “And you talked to him.”
“For about twenty minutes. And I can tell you right now that he’s not the guy who kidnapped Cali or saved our butts in Atlantic City or died in Alexander’s tomb four days ago like you told me.”
Mercer and Cali just stared at each other.
“He is the professor you originally called about Skenderbeg,” Harry went on. “He’s an expert on him, knew everything down to his hat size but he said that the legend of him using a weapon belonging to Alexander the Great is just that, a myth. It never happened.”
“Well he’s wrong. I saw the damned thing.”
“I’m just repeating what he told me. He also said that he’s never heard of any new Janissary order.”
It took Mercer a second to grasp what Harry was telling him. “Then the guy in Egypt and Russia?”
“Isn’t Ibriham Ahmad, Skenderbeg guru and professor at the University of Istanbul,” Harry finished for him.
“Who was he?” Cali asked.
Harry shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. It’s not like any of us asked him for ID.”
“Toss me the phone, will you, Harry?” Mercer rifled through his wallet for a slip of paper. He held it up. “This is the phone number of the nurses’ station in the Aswan hospital.” Mercer dialed and let it ring for a minute before someone picked up. It took a few moments to find someone who spoke English. Harry smoked through a cigarette. Cali went to the kitchen to get some ice for Mercer’s knee. “I’d like to speak with Devrin Egemen,” Mercer said when an English-speaking doctor came on the line. “He’s a young Turkish man brought in with a gunshot to the leg a couple of days ago.” Mercer shook his head as he listened. He thanked the doctor and hung up. “Devrin left the hospital yesterday without permission. They don’t know where he went.”
After a pause Cali asked, “What does this mean?”
“Other than the fact he sacrificed himself to stop Poli and Al-Salibi,” Mercer replied, “we’ll never know who he was.”
“Consider this,” Harry said. “They guarded their secret so closely that the world expert didn’t know about them. Now they’ve gone back to ground.”
“Our government is negotiating the location of Alexander’s tomb with the Egyptians so we get the alembic, so hopefully they’ll never need to emerge again.”
“Well I do have something else,” Harry said in a brighter tone. “After I transcribed Chester Bowie’s notes about adamantine I finished the rest of his letter. As we all know he was partially right about the mythological ore and was dead bang on about how the ancient Greeks created mythological monsters out of fossil bones. He has another theory that might be worth checking out.”
“What’s that?” Mercer asked warily.
