"It's from Commander Pierce, sir," the communications chief said and held out the telephone receiver.
Painter swiveled in his seat. What the hell? He took the phone. "Gray? This is Director Crowe. Where are you?"
The voice came faint. "Sir, I don't have much time, and I have a lot of intel to pass on."
"I'm listening."
"First, my parents have been kidnapped by a Guild agent."
"Amen Nasser. We know. We have a wide sweep already under way."
Surprised silence followed, then Gray continued. "You also have to reach Monk and Lisa. They're in danger over in Indonesia."
"We're aware. I'm attempting a satellite pass as we speak. If you're done telling me what I already know, why don't you start at the beginning?"
Gray took a deep breath and quickly related what had happened since Seichan had crashed back into his life. Painter asked a few questions and pieces began to fit together like a scattered jigsaw. He had already made several realizations while he waited for the NSA to respond. He had already suspected the Guild might be involved with the incident at Christmas Island. Who else had the resources to steal an entire island's population and vanish away? Gray just confirmed this conjecture and answered why this was all happening, even giving it a name.
The Judas Strain.
An hour ago Painter had summoned Dr. Malcolm Jennings back into Sigma's R&D offices, hauling him from his bed. On the car ride back to Sigma from the site of the kidnapping, Painter had gone over Lisa's last conversations. Clearly coerced, it made all her statements suspect. Like claiming the disease that so disconcerted her earlier was now just a false alarm. He had remembered Jennings's earlier panic about the threat of an environmental meltdown. And the man's last chilling statement. We still don't know what killed the dinosaurs.
Plainly here was something that might interest the Guild.
Painter had even guessed that Seichan's sudden appearance and Gray's disappearance might be related to Indonesia. Two major Guild actions, striking at the same time. Painter was not a fan of coincidences. There had to be a connection. But he never would have guessed who connected it all together.
"Marco Polo?" Painter asked,
Gray finished his story. "The Guild is operating on two fronts. A scientific arm is pursuing the current outbreak, seeking a cure and the source. At the same time—"
Painter cut him off. "A historical arm is following Marco's path back to the same: a cure and the source."
It now made a certain awful sense.
"And now Nasser is heading out to Istanbul," Painter said.
"He's probably already in the air."
"I can mobilize resources out there, have assets on the ground in the next couple hours."
"No. The Guild will know. According to Seichan, Istanbul is one of their major hubs of activity. They're in all agencies out here. If they realize you've activated forces, they'll know we've talked. My parents. . . you can't. I'll have to handle Nasser on my own."
"But you've taken a huge risk as it is, Gray. Sigma's compromised. I'll do my best to keep this from leaking any further, but the mole here could—"
"Director, there is no mole in Sigma."
Painter started. It took him a moment to regroup, to consider this possibility. "Are you certain?" he finally asked.
"Certain enough to stake my parents' lives on it."
Painter sat for a moment. He believed Gray. The prickling frustration of dealing with all the interagency squabbling washed away. If there was no mole ...
Gray's voice grew fainter. "I can't risk staying on the line any longer. I have to go. I'll do my best to follow this trail, to see where it leads."
The line went silent for a moment. Painter thought Gray might have cut the connection, but then he returned. "Please, Director, find my folks."
"I will, Gray. You can be certain of that. And when I do, tell Vigor to expect a call from his niece. It will ring a few times, then hang up. That will be the signal that your parents are safe."
"Thank you, sir."
The phone clicked off.
Painter leaned back.
"Sir," the communications officer interrupted, "we should have feed in another two minutes."
10:15 a.m. Istanbul
Despite the need to hurry, Gray could not stop his feet from slowing as he approached the western facade of Hagia Sophia, awestruck by its size.
Vigor noted his craned neck. "Impressive, isn't it."
There was no denying it.
The monumental Byzantine structure was considered by many to be the Eighth Wonder of the World. Seated atop a hill where once a temple to Apollo had stood, it overlooked the magnificent blue expanse of the Sea of Marmara and much of Istanbul. Its most striking feature, the massive Byzantine dome, glowed like polished copper in the morning sun, climbing twenty stories into the air. Other lower half domes buttressed it to the east and west, while additional cupolas spread out to either side like attendants to a queen, expanding the breadth of the massive structure.
Vigor continued an ongoing history lesson about the place and pointed to the giant archways ahead that led into Hagia Sophia. "The Imperial Doors. It was through those doors that in 537, Emperor Justinian dedicated the church and declared, 'Oh, Solomon I have surpassed thee.' And it was through those same doors, during the fourteen-hundreds, that Sultan Mehmed, the conquering Ottoman Turk who had sacked Constantinople, poured soil over his head in a humble act before entering the church. He was so impressed that rather than destroying Hagia Sophia, he converted it into a mosque."
The monsignor waved an arm to encompass the four towering minarets that now rose at each corner of the grounds.
"And now it's a museum," Gray said.
"As of 1935," Vigor confirmed, and pointed to the scaffolding on the south side of the structure. "Restoration work has been almost continuous since that date. And not just on the outside. When Sultan Mehmed converted the church to a mosque, he plastered over all the Christian mosaics, as it is against Islamic law to depict human figures. But over the past decades, there's been a slow and meticulous attempt to restore those priceless Byzantine mosaic murals. At the same time, there's been an equal desire to preserve the ancient Islamic art from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, impressive sweeps of calligraphy and decorated pulpits. To balance such a project, the restoration work at Hagia Sophia required bringing in experts from all fields of architecture and art. Including consulting the Vatican."
Vigor led the way across the open plaza toward the arched entrance, following the flow of tourists. "As such, I thought that I might bring someone familiar with restoration, someone who has been consulted by Hagia Sophia's curators in the past."