The Inca Prophecy (45 page)

Aleta held her hand to her mouth.

‘My God!’ she said. ‘That can’t be true.’

‘Unfortunately, it will be, unless our civilisation changes course,’ O’Connor said, ‘and the meeting between the President and the Prime Minister of Israel … before we left Cusco there was a report in the media of another one in three days’ time.’

‘We have much to learn about the nature of time,’ Huayta said. ‘Even the way holograms are created is not fully understood, but the meeting in three days’ time will follow the course of the one you’ve just witnessed. If you’re going to change the course of that prophecy, you will have to find a way to warn your president.’

‘Even if I could get to Washington without being arrested, words are not going to have sufficient impact,’ O’Connor replied, his mind racing. ‘Is this the only place and time the skull configuration can be energised? If we could find a way to direct a beam of light onto all three skulls at once, would that energise the crystal as it has now?’

Huayta nodded. ‘Provided you can replicate the conditions, the disc will do the rest.’

‘In other words, a beam of photons, a laser beam directly above the skulls, would simulate the sun’s zenith?’

‘Exactly,’ the old shaman agreed.

‘And where do you plan on taking these artefacts, which are the property of the Peruvian people?’

O’Connor and Aleta turned to find Howard Wiley, accompanied by a squad of the CIA’s Special Operations Group wearing black balaclavas and camouflage uniforms. Huayta’s guides, left on the perimeter of the lost city, had been no match for the most secretive paramilitary group in the United States.

Wiley turned to the commander. ‘The artefacts are to be loaded on to my helicopter. As for you two,’ he said, turning to O’Connor and Aleta, ‘you’re under arrest. You’ll be flown to our embassy in Lima, where of course, you’ll be given every support,’ he sneered. ‘From there, you’ll be extradited to the United States where you’ll be put on trial for treason.’ Wiley’s thin mouth twisted in a smile. ‘And the penalty for treason is death.’

Chapter 54

Megan Becker looked on in disbelief as the news video from Lima streamed into the Inca ops room at Langley. Images of O’Connor and Weizman, handcuffed and under heavy guard, faded to the media conference in the grounds of the US embassy in Avenida La Encalada.

‘I’m happy to announce to the people of the United States,’ Wiley began, ‘that the fugitive rogue CIA agent Curtis O’Connor, along with his accomplice, Dr Aleta Weizman, has been captured while attempting to remove rare artefacts from an ancient Inca site in the Amazon Basin. They are now under arrest.’ Wiley, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, surveyed the group of hand-picked reporters and opened the doorstop to questions.

‘Exactly what are the charges against them?’ one asked.

‘The charges include treason, although the precise nature of the remaining charges won’t be known until we’ve completed
our investigations,’ Wiley replied. ‘In the meantime, the Peruvian authorities are cooperating and we expect extradition to be a formality.’

‘Will they be called before the Senate inquiry?’ another asked.

‘The evidence against both O’Connor and Weizman is incontrovertible,’ Wiley shot back. ‘I think the Senate has better things to do than go over ground that will be examined by the courts.’

‘And what about the artefacts? Is it true that O’Connor and Weizman discovered the fabled Lost City of Paititi?’

Wiley’s face flushed. ‘I think you will find that O’Connor and Weizman had very little to do with that discovery. The local guides have known about this location for a very long time. The main thing is the artefacts will soon be returned to the Peruvian authorities,’ Wiley said, abruptly terminating the conference.

‘Well, looks like O’Connor and Weizman are finally going to get what’s coming to them,’ Davis observed, flicking off the video feed.

Becker ignored him and went back to her desk. Her iPhone buzzed and her pulse quickened as she opened the text from an unknown number:

Rodriguez regained consciousness – wants to see you. Most urgent.

An hour and a half later, Becker was shown into the outer room of Rodriguez’s heavily guarded intensive-care suite in the military hospital.

‘Dustin Coburn.’ The avuncular lawyer stuck out his large hand to shake Becker’s.

‘Megan Becker. She’s regained consciousness?’

‘Yesterday morning, and one of the first people she asked to see was you.’

‘Has she identified her assassin?’

‘Yes, and it’s been proven, but I’ll let her tell you personally,’ Coburn said.

‘A few minutes only, ma’am, she’s still very weak,’ one of the intensive-care staff warned.

As Becker entered the room, Rodriguez smiled wanly. The agent’s painfully thin body was hooked up to a drip and festooned with tubes, but the ECG monitor was showing a strong, steady pulse.

‘Ellen … I’m so glad you’re going to be okay.’ Becker reached for Rodriguez’s hand.

‘Which is more than I can say for the bastard who knifed me … Wiley.’

‘Wiley tried to kill you?’ Becker gasped, her head spinning, dropping Rodriguez’s hand suddenly. ‘Ellen … forgive me, but are you sure?’

‘Wiley,’ Rodriguez rasped, her voice a whisper.

Dustin Coburn had come into the room silently after Becker, and he now spoke. ‘At the time of the stabbing, the FBI took samples of the skin underneath Ellen’s fingernails, but until now, they’ve not been able to match the DNA.’

‘And they’ve matched it with Wiley?’ Becker asked, still struggling to come to grips with a deputy director of operations who would personally attempt to assassinate a witness.

‘As soon as Ellen regained consciousness, she told us about Wiley.
The FBI went over to his apartment, and the lab results are just in. The DNA matches.’

‘My God. I’ve got to get over to the White House.’ Becker leaned over and kissed Rodriguez gently on the forehead. ‘You’re so brave. I’m in awe. Know that I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

‘The chief of staff can’t be disturbed, Megan. He’s with the President.’ There were few people who would challenge Donna Ferguson, the keeper of President McGovern’s gate, but Becker was not about to be stymied.

‘You need to disturb both of them. Trust me, Donna. The President will want to hear this.’

Donna Ferguson shook her head. ‘The Israeli Prime Minister is due tomorrow, and the President is preparing for the meeting. Whatever it is will have to wait.’

‘I’ve just come from Bethesda, Donna. Rodriguez is conscious,’ Becker said. ‘I think the President needs to know who attempted to murder Rodriguez before CNN blurts it to the world, don’t you?’

‘This better be important, Becker,’ Chuck Buchanan snarled. He’d come out of his meeting with McGovern at Becker’s insistence.

‘Don’t take me for an idiot, Chuck!’ Becker responded. ‘Just listen.’

As she spoke, Buchanan’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped
open. ‘Jesus Christ! Are they sure of it?’ Buchanan queried after she’d finished.

‘Would I be here if they weren’t? Dustin Coburn isn’t your average wet-behind-the-ears attorney, Chuck, and this isn’t going to stay quiet for long. More importantly, Wiley’s proven that he’s capable of murdering those who might be able to incriminate him – and I can think of two people, currently in Wiley’s custody, who fit right into that category. If you think there’s any guarantee O’Connor and Weizman will make it out of Lima alive, you’re kidding yourself. Their extradition needs to be personally overseen and fast-tracked now.’

Buchanan shook his head. ‘You’re boxing at shadows, Becker. The justice system can handle this. The White House isn’t going to get involved.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Chuck. Get real! How desperate do you think Wiley’s going to be when the Rodriguez news gets to him? The President needs to know now, and either he or you needs to get on the phone to the ambassador to Peru and have this monster arrested. Otherwise it’s on your head!’

‘I’ll ignore that last remark, Becker. I don’t take kindly to threats, from anyone, let alone you.’

‘And I don’t take kindly to being assigned to work with psychopaths, Buchanan. You and the President sold me a hospital pass at the outset. I’m resigning, and if you’re not going to take any action, I’ll tell the President via the media.’ Becker turned on her heel.

‘Wait!’ Buchanan said, suddenly unsure. ‘I’ll see if the President’s free.’

‘No, you won’t. You’ll show me in, or I’m out of here.’

Chapter 55

Ambassador Edwin Sanchez took the call in his office. The CIA had taken over most of the embassy since their arrival, but Sanchez’s office was still his sanctuary. Ever the diplomat, he’d quietly accepted the CIA’s ‘invasion’, but with grave misgivings. In his experience, the CIA was made up of essentially decent, honourable men and women, but there was a cowboy element, and he was convinced that the current black operation being run from his embassy fitted that description.

‘Edwin … William McGovern here.’

‘Mr President. How can I help?’

‘It’s a long story, but I’ll give you the abridged version.’

Sanchez listened with growing incredulity. In his nearly forty years in the State Department, he’d never had a situation as explosive as that which the President was outlining now. Partway through the conversation, he buzzed his secretary and handed her
a note. A short while later, the leader of the CIA’s Special Operations Group, Hank Perez, a veteran of operations in Afghanistan and Iraq, strode into the ambassador’s office.

‘You wanted to see —’

Sanchez held up his hand for silence and continued talking into the receiver. ‘I understand. He’s with me as we speak.’ The ambassador held the phone to one side and spoke to Perez. ‘You are now under my command, and Mr Wiley is to be arrested and detained until further notice.’

‘The hell I am. This is a black mission, and if you’re not cleared —’

Sanchez smiled and put the receiver back in front of his mouth. ‘Mr Perez seems reluctant to take orders from me, but perhaps he’ll listen to you.’ The ambassador handed the phone to the ex-Delta team operative.

‘Who the hell is this?’ Perez demanded.

Sanchez watched the colour drain from Perez’s face.

Chapter 56

The media was not aware that Rodriguez had regained consciousness, nor were they aware of the arrival of the CIA aircraft from Lima at Andrews Air Force Base. Two black Secret Service four-wheel drives dropped the passengers at the West Wing, where O’Connor, Aleta and Carlos Huayta were escorted to the situation room.

‘Welcome back,’ Becker said, extending her hand to O’Connor, a warm grin on her face. As she was introduced, Aleta found herself wondering what past relationship there might have been between O’Connor and the attractive, feisty environmental scientist but her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the White House chief of staff.

‘I’ve allowed ten minutes for this,’ Buchanan said. ‘The President and the Prime Minister of Israel have a very tight schedule.’

O’Connor glanced at the technicians, who were conferring
with Huayta. Under the shaman’s guidance, they were positioning the crystal skulls and the ancient Sun Disc on a heavy stand at the far end of the room. A laser source had been bolted to the roof, directly above. O’Connor winked at Aleta and turned to the chief of staff.

‘Once the photons of light energise those skulls, I think you’re going to have to revise that schedule of yours, Buchanan.’

President McGovern and the Prime Minister of Israel took their seats at the end of the long, polished table. O’Connor deferred to Carlos Huayta, but the old shaman kept his remarks to the bare essentials. The holograms would, Huayta knew, have far more impact than any words. The shaman nodded to the technicians.

A narrow beam of green light struck the large diamond in the middle of the disc at precisely the same point the sun had when it reached its zenith in the jungle. The light split into three beams, striking each crystal skull. A deep humming emanated from each skull and the President watched intently. Blue slivers of light from within the skulls joined together, forming a crackling ring of electricity around the disc and a shimmering hologram rose over its centre. The Israeli Prime Minister recoiled in shock as he recognised Israel’s Ramon Air Force Base in the Negev Desert. Israeli Air Force Colonel Erez Rosenberg was briefing his F-15 and F-16 pilots for the first of many attacks on Iran.