The Nostradamus File (9 page)

"Go on."

"If you're Moses, you want to get out of Egypt
as quickly as possible. Look at the map. What's the best route?"

"East," Ronnie said. "Due east."

"Right. So the Israelites head east. If they start north of Cairo they don't need to cross the Red Sea. There were trade routes back then, people knew where things were and they knew how to get from one place to another without getting lost. There's no reason for Moses to enter what's now Saudi Arabia. That means Mount Sinai can't be an Arabian volcano. Selena, where's the traditional location?"

"In the south of the Sinai Peninsula, near the tip." 

"Why would they go there?" Ronnie asked. "That's completely out of the way. It doesn't make sense."

"Forty years wandering in the desert, right? Isn't that
what happened?" Lamont said.

"The forty years was after Moses went up the mountain," Selena said.

"We're getting off the track," Nick said.

Selena took a sip of water from a bottle. "It would make sense to follow one of the trade routes from Egypt. That way there would be known quantities, like water and shelter, firewood, things like that."

"I can show the routes," Stephanie said. "Give me a minute."

She entered a few keystrokes. Colored lines in purple, green and black appeared on the map.

"Those are the main routes at the time of Moses. The top line is called the Way of the Philistines," she said. "The Bible says they didn't go that way."

"Take it out," Nick said. "If we're going to use the Bible as a guide we have to be consistent."

She entered a command and the purple line disappeared. That left the green line and the black one. The black line wandered down the western edge of the Sinai peninsula to Mount Sinai and up again, until it crossed the third route in green.

"
We've already decided the traditional Mount Sinai isn't going to give us much. Let's go with the idea Moses took the shortest way," Nick said. "If that's right, then we can take out the black line and the traditional mountain. Go ahead, Steph."

She moved her mouse, clicked. The black line disappeared.

"The green route heads into Jordan," Stephanie said.

"Are there any volcanoes on that route?"

"Doesn't look like it." Stephanie pressed keys. "Nope."

"Dead end," Lamont said.

"All right." Nick rubbed his forehead. He had another headache coming on. "We're not going to Jordan or anywhere else without better intel."

He looked at his watch. His first counseling appointment was that afternoon.

"Everyone go home, clear your head. I'll tell Harker where we're at. Steph, see if you can find anything on that green route that matches the biblical story. Meet back here at 0800 tomorrow."

Nick rode back with Selena to D.C. Her Mercedes still had that new car smell of leather and wax. Better than the smell of the car was a hint of the perfume Selena wore.

"What's that scent you're wearing?"

"You like it?" She smiled. He loved it when she smiled. "It's called
Baccart Les Larmes Sacrees de Thebe.
"

"That's a mouthful."

"It's supposed to invoke the mystery of ancient Egypt. The perfume comes in a bottle of Baccarat crystal."

"That's good?"

"Very good."

Nick had been glancing in his side mirror.
He sighed.

"
Not again."

"What, not again?"

"We're being followed. Silver Lexus, four cars back."

She looked in her mirror. "I see him."

"Two men. He's keeping his distance."

"I can lose him."

"Not yet. We don't need another shootout on the Beltway. Be ready in case he speeds up."

"You're sure he's following us."

They were coming up on Alexandria. "Let's find out. Take the next exit."

The Lexus followed them off 495 into Alexandria. Selena cruised up South Henry Street.

"Head for the waterfront," Nick said.

She turned right. The Lexus was still behind them. It had dropped back a block, trying to stay unnoticed. Signs pointed to Founder's Park.

"Park over there in the lot. Let's take a little walk."

She
slipped the Mercedes into a spot. They got out and began walking. The path forked around a stand of trees in full leaf. The gray-blue waters of the Potomac were visible beyond the trees, wide and calm.

He thought of the story about George Washington and the Potomac. He looked at the river.
No way Washington threw that silver dollar across
.

The day was warm
, the air filled with the scent of fresh cut grass and the damp smell of the river. Clusters of people strolled about, enjoying the fine weather. A group of sullen teenagers passed them. The boys gave Selena lewd looks. Nick smelled marijuana as they went by.

The men from the car had
followed them into the park. Nick felt a light sweat starting. He wanted to take off his jacket but he didn't want to upset the citizens. Shoulder holsters and guns tended to do that.

The path they were on led to a long pier that angled left and then straight ahead. A river tour boat was docked at the end, getting ready to sail. P
assengers were going through a caged ticketing area. Nick headed for the pier as if they planned to board.

"Want to take a boat ride?"

"You'll miss your appointment."

"Spoilsport. All right, let's see what they'll do if we turn around."

They did an about face and walked toward the two men. Both men had short hair and looked as if they worked out a lot. Their expressions were unfriendly. They both wore jackets. One man was taller than the other. He needed a shave and he wore a blue sport coat. He reached inside his jacket.

Everything after that was instinct.

As the gun came out, Nick gave off a piercing shout he'd learned from Selena. It froze Blue Coat in the act of raising his pistol for a split fraction of time, long enough. Nick got his pistol free and fired at the center of Blue Coat's body. He missed and fired again and watched blood blossom on the shirt. Blue Coat staggered backward and fell. Chaos and screams erupted in the park. Panicked people scrambled to get out of the way.

The second man pulled his jacket away with his left hand, exposing a MAC-10. He fired a one-handed burst
as Nick swung toward him. Someone cried out on the pier. Selena shot him before he could get off another burst. She shot him again. He doubled over and fell to his knees. He tried to lift the gun. Nick and Selena fired at the same time. The man fell to his side. He twitched and stopped moving.

They walked over and kicked the guns away from the bodies. Both men were dead. Nick holstered his gun.

"I hate this," he said.

"Better call your therapist," she said. "You're going to be late."

Nick looked down at the bodies. "Gives me something to talk about."

"That's not funny," she said.

"No," he said, "it isn't."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"No IDs on the two in the park," Harker said. "The car is a rental. The license and credit card they used are fakes. Good fakes, I might add. I wish you hadn't killed them."

"We didn't have a choice."

"I had to call in some serious pressure to get you out of there. I'm not sure it's over yet. Everyone is nervous about guns going off in public places. The spin is that those two were terrorists and you were Federal Agents. Some people think you're heroes. Some people want to make an example of you."

"Are we subject to political correctness now? Those two called the play."

"I know. I'll take care of it. The real question is who were they and why did they go after you."

"They picked us up on the Beltway," Nick said. "They had to know we were coming from here."

"So much for our new anonymity. I guess it was just wishful thinking." She picked up her Mont Blanc. "The quality of the fake IDs indicates pros. We're running the prints to see if anything turns up."

"It has to be about the Ark," Selena said.
"The same people who sent gunmen after us in Jordan."

"Someone who has a lot of resources," Nick said. "Serious connections
and serious money. You don't just hire a truck or two full of guys with automatic weapons by walking into the local rent-a-terrorist agency. Like you said, pros."

"
I don't understand why they keep trying to kill you. Wouldn't it make more sense to grab you, find out what you know?" Harker turned her pen around in her fingers.

"
Maybe they already know what we know. Or they know where the Ark is and don't want us to find it."

"Are you any closer to pinpointing
a location?"

"Only by elimination. No matter what we decide, we'll still be guessing. We'd get better odds in Vegas."

"Give it your best shot, Nick. We can't let it drop. Things have gone too far."

CHAPTER TWENTY

Counseling
.

The word
was uncomfortable. In Nick's mind, going to a shrink meant you'd failed. It meant there was something you couldn't handle on your own. He'd been handling things on his own as long as he could remember. He'd told Selena that and she'd said maybe that was the problem. It had made him angry.

It was because he'd
struck out at Selena in his sleep that he was here in this office. That, and the fact that whenever he thought about his mother he felt nothing. Wasn't he supposed to feel something? It was as if he'd buried the feelings somewhere and forgotten where he put them. All he felt when he thought about her was guilty for not feeling more.

He
was having the Afghanistan nightmare every night. He was tired. Tired meant he could make a mistake that would get someone killed. He felt stretched out like a high, tight wire over a bottomless pit. If counseling could make the dreams go away, it was worth the confrontation with his pride.

The waiting area was quiet. The carpet was wall to wall, a soft gray under foot. He sat on one of the chairs and tapped his fingers on his knee. The furniture was comfortable. A copy of a Paul Klee painting hung on one wall. Nick liked Klee. Seeing the picture there helped. Someone who liked Klee couldn't be all bad. Maybe it would be okay.

The door to the inner office opened. The man standing there was older than Nick by a few years. He wore khaki slacks, comfortable brown shoes and a checked shirt open at the collar. He'd been Special Forces and came recommended. He was about Nick's height and a little heavier. His left sleeve was pinned up against his shoulder.

"Nick? I'm Dave Milton. Come on in."

They shook hands. Milton gestured to a chair. "Have a seat."

"Do I call you Doctor or what?"

"Doctor is fine. Doc, if you prefer." He sat down in a wingback chair a few feet away. Nick looked around. A half dozen diplomas, an Army discharge certificate and several award plaques hung on the walls.

"Let me guess," Milton said. "Marines?"

"Recon. Thirteen years."

Milton nodded. "How did you hear about me?"

"A guy I know from Afghanistan."

Milton nodded.

Nick said, "I have to tell you. I'm not sure this is going to help anything."

"It might not."

"Aren't you supposed to tell me it will?"

"Would you believe me if I did?"

"Probably not."

"There you go."

Milton looked relaxed. His presence was calming.
Probably a good thing in a shrink
, Nick thought.

"How does this work?" he said.

"You come in. We talk about whatever you want to talk about. Everything is confidential."

"That's all?"

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Maybe some tests. Questions about my childhood, that kind of thing."

"Nope. Just conversation."

"What if I just want to talk about football?"

Milton shrugged. "It's your money. You might get better results if you talk about what's bugging you."

"I can't talk about what I do."

"If it's important, you'll find a way to talk about it. Where do you want to begin?"

"What happened to the arm?" Nick said.

"Afghanistan happened. You were there?"

"I was." Nick thought about how he'd hit Selena in his sleep. "I have this dream," he said. "I'm back in Afghanistan, on a mission that went bad."

After he'd described the dream, Nick waited.