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Authors: Charles Brokaw

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Big Mike shook his shaggy head. ‘Not really. That’s a long climb to make even for an old friend.’

Lourds had also helped fund Big Mike’s college, but he didn’t say anything about that. However, he was a little hurt by the Uighur man’s honesty.

‘So, if you didn’t come here to see me, then why did you come?’

‘To see you.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Ziya asked me to give you a message from Professor Lev.’

‘All right.’

‘In private.’ Big Mike looked around. ‘There are too many ears here.’

‘Sure. I’ve got private quarters. I’ve also got cold beer.’

Big Mike sat awkwardly in one of the canvas chairs Lourds had borrowed from one of the media teams. He sipped the bottle of Mongozo Lourds had given him, which he’d paid one of the supply teams to bring. Lourds had been pleasantly surprised to find the African beer brewed from bananas. He’d only had it a few times before.

‘How is Lev?’ Lourds uncapped his own bottle and took a sip. It was cold and clean and hit the spot.

‘Ziya says he was doing good. They didn’t talk long.’

‘I haven’t heard from him in over a year, I guess.’ Lourds was surprised that so much time had passed. If people weren’t in his everyday life, he tended to let an awful lot of time pass before he contacted them. It came with staying busy. Thankfully, most of Lourds’s friends and associates led busy lives as well and understood. ‘What are you doing these days?’

Big Mike shrugged. ‘I guide people up and down the mountain, do some writing for magazines and documentaries on the side, and raise my kids.’

‘Kids?’

‘Yep. Two of them. Girls.’ Big Mike smiled ruefully. ‘At home I swim in an ocean of estrogen. I get breaks between guide assignments, but I’m always ready to go back into the mountains.’

Lourds laughed at the young man. ‘Your English is fantastic.’

‘I studied hard at university, and my wife makes it a rule that only English is spoken at home. She’s British, and she’s a pediatrician.’

‘And living in the Tarim Basin?’

‘Can you believe it?’

‘No. You’re a most fortunate young man.’

‘I know. Really, I do. So … I don’t suppose you’ve found a woman to make an honest man of you yet?’

‘My work is my life, Big Mike. You know that from the time I spent with you.’

‘I remember. First man up in the morning and the last one to stop telling stories at night.’ Big Mike smiled. ‘I don’t know if you were aware of it, but all the village kids were in awe of you.’

‘They were bored, and I was someone different.’

‘So was Professor Lev. They gravitated toward you, though.’

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Lourds changed the subject. ‘Let’s see this message Lev sent.’

Big Mike handed over an envelope that contained a single piece of paper. Lourds opened the paper and read the printout.

July 23
Thomas, forgive the cloak-and-dagger approach to getting message to you. Thankfully, Ziya said he could get this to you.
I’m in a bit of a quandary, old friend. I think i’m on the trail of a find of a lifetime. Maybe even something as big as Atlantis, though I doubt you’ll be willing to accept this. I can imagine you rolling your eyes about now.

‘Professor Thomas, is there a joke you’d care to share?’

Lourds glanced at Big Mike. ‘There’s no joke. Why would you think there was a joke?’

‘You were rolling your eyes like there was something funny.’

‘Oh – no. Probably my eyes are just tired from being down here.’ Lourds kept reading.

I can’t tell you much in this missive, and I know that you’re busy with your new find. I’ll understand if you decide not to come, but if you could come – even for just a few days – I would deeply appreciate it. I’ve gotten stuck in the research and don’t know where else to turn.
I also want to advise you to be careful. At least two men that have been involved with this project may have been killed because of it.
If you’re too busy, please know that I understand. Sometimes our lives are not our own.
All best,
Lev

When he’d finished the note, Lourds read it again, wishing Lev had been more forthcoming. Then again, if Lev really was on to something that big, he’d be playing his cards close to his vest.

‘Professor Thomas?’

Lourds looked up at Big Mike.

The young man looked troubled. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘No. I don’t suppose you know what Lev is working on, do you?’

Big Mike shook his head.

Lourds drained his beer and stood. ‘I guess there’s only one way to find out.’

The telephone rang and rang. At first, no one answered. Lourds stood outside the temple on a nearby hill where the satellite phone’s reception was better. He’d borrowed a boost from one of the media groups streaming live feeds back to their parent company.

Cold and uneasy, Lourds listened to the phone ring. He tucked his free hand up under his arm and stared out over the frozen landscape. Just as he was certain the line was about to go to the answering service, a woman answered.

‘Hello?’

‘My name is Thomas Lourds. I’m a friend and associate of Professor Lev Strauss. I’m trying to get in touch with him, and this is the only number I have.’

‘Of course. I’m afraid Lev isn’t here right now.’ The woman’s voice was cold and efficient, reminding Lourds of some of the secretaries at Harvard.

‘I can call back. Do you know when you’ll be expecting him?’

‘I can’t say at the moment.’

Well, scratch the efficiency. The secretaries and office managers at Harvard would have known exactly where their charges were and when they could expect them to return.

‘Can I leave a number? Lev can call me at his convenience.’

‘Of course.’ Dutifully, the woman wrote Thomas’s contact number down.

21

Covert Operations

Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations (Mossad)

Tel Aviv, the State of Israel

July 30, 2011

Katsas
(Collections Officer) Sarah Shavit cradled the phone and stared at the image of the handsome man on the computer screen in front of her. She was familiar with him, of course. She’d read his file when getting acquainted with the operation involving Lev Strauss. More than that, she kept a copy of
Bedroom Pursuits
next to her bed.

‘That was Lourds?’

Startled, Sarah looked up at her superior. Isser Melman was sixty and sleek, with silver hair and a weathered face. His prosthetic right eye didn’t always track properly and sometimes gave him the appearance of looking in two directions at once.

Sarah nodded.

Melman entered the room and sat at one of the chairs facing the desk. He crossed one knee over the other and straightened the hem of his pants. ‘You didn’t tell him Strauss was dead.’

‘He didn’t seem to know. I saw no reason to scare him off at this point. I sent you the report regarding Lev Strauss’s Facebook communication with Ziya Kadeer.’

‘Perhaps telling Lourds his friend was dead might have made him come here.’

Sarah leaned back in her chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. Since Lev Strauss’s assassination two days ago, she’d spent every waking hour poring over the files they had assembled on the man. She’d also ordered an additional layer, springing out from Strauss’s known associates, to be gathered.

‘Perhaps.’

‘Then why not tell him?’

‘We saw the note Strauss sent to Lourds, but Strauss was a master linguist – as well as being one of our agents – and Lourds is a clever man. There’s a chance that Strauss communicated sensitive information in that message. I have our cryptographers going over it, but they’ve found nothing so far.’

‘There has been some speculation that Lourds is a CIA agent.’

Sarah shook her head. ‘I don’t believe that.’

‘Why?’

‘Lourds isn’t jaded enough or careful enough to be a CIA agent.’ Sarah glanced at the image of the man on the computer screen. ‘He’s still an innocent. Despite his age, he’s still very much a boy, more interested in his adventures and the puzzles he comes across.’

‘Then let’s hope he finds Lev’s message puzzling enough to lure him to Jerusalem. If Strauss’s beliefs are correct, the world as we know it is in jeopardy.’ Melman glanced at the desktop littered with files. ‘Do we have anything on the mercenaries found with Strauss?’

‘No. Those men all have spotty histories. Tracking them has proven difficult. We’ve connected them to operations by several corporations around the world so far.’

‘So who runs mercenary operations?’

‘Several international corporations have invested in those kinds of operations nowadays. Like any other corporate resource, those CEOs don’t like to see assets idle when they could be out turning a profit. As a result, those mercenaries are often farmed out or loaned to smaller corporations that need black ops work done.’

Melman sighed. He already knew everything she was telling him. ‘We saw this day coming, Sarah, where corporations would evolve into competition with intelligence agencies. Not only competition, but enemies.’

‘Yes.’

‘These are delicate games we play these days.’

Sarah nodded. ‘I took the liberty of putting someone on Lourds.’

Surprise lifted Melman’s eyebrow. ‘Without consulting me?’

‘Assigning someone to Lourds seems like overkill at this point, but I thought it might be a good training exercise for an agent we’ve been watching. Someone who can work in the shadows.’

Melman scratched his chin and smiled. ‘That’s what I like about you, Sarah. You’re always thinking.’

‘I try.’

‘Who is the agent you put on Lourds?’

‘Miriam Abata.’ Sarah leaned forward and typed in the name. A moment later, Miriam Abata’s file popped up on the screen. She turned it so Melman could see.

Miriam Abata was a pretty young woman. Dark hair hung in her face, partially obscuring one brown eye. In the picture, she was smiling, obviously amused. Her features were definitely Middle Eastern, with a hawk’s nose, dark eyebrows, and dark coloration that was a mix of her Israeli mother and her Ethiopian father.

A frown deeply etched Melman’s face. ‘You sent a woman? With Lourds’s record as a womanizer?’

‘I made certain Miriam knows all about him. She’s a good agent, Isser. She deserves a chance to prove herself.’

‘What is she? Twenty-one, twenty-two? She looks like she just graduated university.’

‘She’s twenty-seven, actually, and she graduated university in New York just this year because she was getting a master’s in Arabic languages and software design, specializing in encryption. Also, we were setting up a cover identity for her. She’s one of the bright ones, a smart young woman. She can handle Lourds if she has to.’

‘Let’s hope she doesn’t have to.’ Melman’s good eye narrowed. ‘She’s Jewish?’

‘Yes. Her mother Sofia works in our cyber unit in the United States and is a citizen there, which Miriam is as well, but has a dual citizenship in Israel. Her father is Ethiopian, Beta Israel, and worked in Tehran as a field agent. His parents moved there when he was a small boy, and he grew up in Iran. He was killed by the Revolutionary Guard when Miriam was a teenager. You won’t find anyone more loyal.’

‘Where is Abata now?’

‘At the temple site.’

‘Has she made contact with Lourds?’

‘No.’ Sarah frowned. ‘He’s hard to get close to because he’s involved in every aspect that’s taking place there. Also, there’s been no reason to contact Lourds directly.’

‘She’s a loose leash on the man.’

Sarah nodded. ‘Very loose.’

Melman stood. ‘As always, you’ve done well, Sarah. We don’t yet have Strauss’s research, and he saw fit to contact Lourds about it.’

‘We assume.’

‘I think it’s a safe assumption. Keep Miriam on Lourds, and let’s see what develops.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And let me know the minute you have any developments.’

‘Of course.’

Melman left the room.

Sarah returned her attention to the screen. She tapped the keyboard again, and the screen returned to Thomas Lourds. Why had Strauss reached out to the linguist when there were so many others he knew?

She didn’t have an answer for the question, and that annoyed her.

On her desk, the encrypted satphone rang. The agent identification number assigned to Miriam Abata showed in the screen. Sarah scooped up the phone. ‘Yes.’

‘He’s on the move.’

Sarah tensed, her thoughts sharpening. ‘He’s leaving the temple?’

‘Apparently.’ Excitement vibrated in Miriam’s voice.

‘How do you know?’

‘I just walked past his private quarters. He’s packing.’

‘Does anyone else know?’

‘Maybe his friend, Professor Hu. I’m not certain. I’ve been working in the lower level. Cataloguing.’

‘Have you had contact with Lourds?’

‘No. He doesn’t even seem to know that I exist.’ She sounded chagrined at that.

‘That works to your advantage. If he’s leaving the temple, I want you to stick close to him.’

‘Of course. If he’s intending to come to Jerusalem …’

‘I’ll make sure your cover identity has a ticket waiting at the airport and that you can switch it to Lourds’s flight.’

‘Thank you.’

Sarah thought about the brutal massacre that had left Lev Strauss, the unidentified woman, and the mercenaries dead. The man who had done that was still out there, still hunting. And they had no way of knowing what Strauss had told the man before dying.

‘Stay close to Lourds if possible, but I want you to come back to us in one piece. Do you understand, Miriam?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good luck.’ Sarah broke the connection and tried not to think about how young the woman was, or that she might just have sent Miriam Abata into harm’s way.

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