The Book of Spies (32 page)

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Authors: Gayle Lynds

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"Langley had that book in storage three years." Tucker sighed with frustration. "I take it you're leaving for Athens?"

"Immediately. I'm not going to tell you exactly how we're planning to get there."

He watched as Serin jabbed a thumb toward the yacht, the darkening sky, and the boat merchant, at last extending both palms up in a gesture of attempting to be reasonable. Serin had told the boat merchant he was going to insist they receive a large discount, since so few people wanted to rent at night. His animated face showed deep enjoyment in the haggling.

"A damn good idea," Tucker said. "Stay safe."

The Sea of Marmara

WITH SERIN
at the helm, the yacht cruised through the night, heading southwest across the Sea of Marmara. A wind had arisen out of the north through the Bosporus Strait, whipping the sea and making for a bumpy ride. They had progressed some ten miles, eaten fish sandwiches bought in the marina, and adjusted to the boat's rough rhythms.

Judd was confident they had not been followed to the Istanbul marina, but still he found himself peering back to where the city's lights spread across the horizon. He studied the traffic--fishing boats, cargo ships, and behemoth oil tankers and container ships, all blinking with lights. The great inland sea was a busy thoroughfare linking the Black Sea in the north to the Aegean and Mediterranean seas on the south through the Dardanelles Strait. None of the other boats seemed to be pacing them.

"Where exactly are we heading?" Eva raised her voice to be heard over the wind, sea, and motors.

Despite a bench seat directly behind them, Serin stood at the wheel, Eva beside him, where he had invited her. A low windshield partially protected them. Judd stood behind the bench seat, gripping the back with both hands. Eva's midnight-blue jacket was buttoned up to her chin, and tendrils of her long black hair had fallen out of the knot at the nape of her neck. Windblown and rosy-cheeked, she looked quietly happy. As she turned to listen to Serin, Judd was struck by how much he liked her, liked being with her. Then he remembered the role his father had probably played in her imprisonment for manslaughter. He gazed away.

"South of a big city called Tekirdag," Serin yelled, "and north of a little village called Barbados. We are going to the Thrace part of Turkey, on the Europe side of course."

Serin held the wheel confidently in his brown hands. He was a little shorter than Judd, but broader, with thick muscles. He appeared nonchalant and self-satisfied. At the same time, there were signs of his past--the
athletic way he moved on the boat and the flashes of intense acuity in his gaze. If he had not already said he had been a member of the national government's tough MIT, Judd would have suspected some sort of similar background.

"An old comrade of mine has a private airstrip," Serin was continuing. "We will be there in about three hours."

Judd saw they were doing a good thirty-plus knots despite the waves. Speedy, with two powerful inboard engines, the Chris-Craft was a stunner. Belowdecks were fully appointed staterooms, a salon, and a galley.

"You're not taking us through the Dardanelles?" Eva asked. "We'd pass the ruins of Troy if you did, and we'd be much closer to Athens."

"Too dangerous. The strait is narrow and crowded. It twists itself this way and that. Besides, the current is unusually swift."

"What do you do with yourself when you're not ferrying people in rented boats?" Judd asked.

"Ah, that is a long story. To make it short, I am what you call a jack-of-all-trades. I am hired to guide, to guard, and to deliver important items. I have a reputation, you see. I am trustworthy. And you two are very important items and now know I am trustworthy also. What about you, Mr. Ryder? You have not told me anything."

"We're tourists, just as you thought."

"You are trying to fool an old dog, but I know all the tricky tricks. I am curious. What is wrong with curiosity, I ask you?" His loud voice sounded hurt. "At least explain this thing called
The Book of Spies
. Entertain me while I work so hard."

Eva laughed. "It's an illuminated manuscript from the sixteenth century. A one-of-a-kind book and very valuable. It's been lost. We're trying to track it down." She glanced back at Judd. "I'm getting tired of shouting."

"So this book is in Athens, and you wish to find it. It is part of some big business deal?" the Turk coaxed.

"Why would you think we're involved in a business deal?" Judd asked.

"I had hopes it would make you much money, and then you would come back to Istanbul and hire me again. Is it for this book your lives are in danger?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." It seemed like innocuous enough information, Judd decided.

Serin glanced over his shoulder at him, frowning. And as he turned back, he wiped his face. The wheel spun out of his other hand. Serin
grabbed the steering again with both hands--too late. The craft lurched from side to side, the waves pounding, the wind screeching. Banging down hard in the trough of one wave, the yacht lifted sharply on the crest of the next. Water drenched them.

Eva reeled as Serin fought to control the yacht, but it slammed and torqued violently. One of her hands slipped from the safety handle on the console. The boat heaved to the starboard, tossing all of them. But Eva's foot slid, and she fell to her knees.

Instantly Judd snatched her arm, locking his other hand on to the back of the bench seat, trying not to lose his balance, too.

As the boat continued to rotate back and forth, up and down, the wet steering wheel whirled through Serin's grasp.

The boat pitched hard again, banging and yawing. Judd lost his grip. His hand slid uncontrollably across the moist seat back, and he stumbled. Eva fell halfway over the boat's side, pulling him with her because he would not let her go. One more lurch, and both would be hurled into the black churning water.

His heart thundering, Judd looked back, searching for a way to save them. Instead he saw something else: Serin was not panicked, not even worried as he clinically noted their life-threatening situation. The icy intelligence in his gaze told Judd he could easily let them fall overboard and would abandon them. Was that what he had planned all along?

"You bastard!" Judd yelled. "Why are you doing this!"

Serin blinked. He looked off into the distance, then back at them. He seemed to decide something. Giving a small nod, he fitted his hands into the spokes of the steering wheel. His caftan sleeves fell back, showing the cording muscles. Shoulders hunching, he poured strength into dominating the yacht.

Slowly the boat's heaving eased. Judd yanked Eva back onboard and pulled her to his chest. Chilled and furious, he wrapped his arms around her. She resisted only a moment, then held on for dear life. He kissed her hair. She burrowed deeper. Then he slid his hand inside his jacket and yanked out his Beretta.

He released her and rolled free, aiming the pistol up at Serin.

43

EVA WAS
watching, stunned. "Judd, stop!" Black hair blowing around her face, she scrambled toward Serin.

"No, Eva. Come here!" Judd ordered as he sat on the seat behind Serin and slid to the side where he had a fuller view of the man's profile and a safer distance. He steadily pointed his Beretta at him.

Her eyes wide, Eva grasped the arm of the seat and pulled herself around the rocking yacht.

"What did I miss?" She fell in beside him.

Serin's fez was gone, and his almond-colored features had shifted, revealing a depth of something Judd could not quite name but felt in himself and did not like. Something predatory. Serin's facial skin seemed different, too, and Judd had a sudden insight the man was in disguise. A hell of a good disguise, with skin dye and some of the new manmade materials that, when smoothed on skin and allowed to dry, puckered the surface and formed deep crevices. The large nose could be fake, too.

"This has been what we in intelligence call a movie," Judd explained to Eva grimly. "It's a setup that looks and feels completely real." He gestured with his pistol at Serin. "Tell her," he ordered.

There was no hesitation. "I have rules," Serin said over the noise of the engines and wind. "They are inviolate. My employer agreed to all of them. One of them is I do wet work only on people who shouldn't be breathing, and I'm the one who makes the decision. My employer was convincing about both of you, so I agreed to the job. He ordered Preston to create a movie in which you'd believe I'd be useful to help you get away. So when Preston realized you were in Yakimovich's storage
room, he eliminated two of his people and called me in." He hesitated.

"Go on," Judd said.

"At that point I took over. But when you arrived I began to wonder. The people I wipe aren't solicitous of an old man. They don't inquire about his well-being. You were prepared to scrub Preston if he moved because he'd tried to do the same to you earlier--but you were just as willing to wait to find out whether I was a threat. Evil people murder first and don't bother about questions. All of this meant I needed to find out more. Were you trying to kill my employer and steal some big business deal as he contended? Finally I learned you claimed to be treasure hunters chasing a chimera, some old manuscript called
The Book of Spies
. That did not fit the profile my employer gave me. Then I looked back at you, Judd, and lost control of the wheel. My specialty is in making hits look like accidents, so I'd planned to erase you out here. Losing control of the boat presented an elegant opportunity. They are few."

"Why did you change your mind?" Eva said.

"Because, God help me, I know human nature--in my world it's nasty, corrupt, and mean. You aren't, so in the end I had to believe you. I'll tell you now I'm glad." He looked at Eva. "You remind me of my daughter. You're about the same age, and both very pretty in similar ways. According to the photo I was given, your true hair color is red. Hers is auburn."

The yacht cruised onward, rolling up and down with the sea. The wind howled around them.

"I can't trust you," Judd decided.

"I understand. However, I'll still take you to my friend and his airstrip."

"Who hired you?"

"I won't tell you that."

"Your rules?"

He gave a curt nod. "I've survived many years in a business in which most of my colleagues have been killed off. Seldom do we die of old age. Rules are not for the timid or the careless. They require discipline. King Lear railed against the universe when he was punished for breaking its rules. I don't want the same fate. Besides, the longer I live, the greater my chance of seeing my daughter again."

"What's your name?" Judd asked.

The assassin's black eyes cut into him. "The Carnivore." Then he smiled.

Thrace, Turkey

THE CARNIVORE
turned off the yacht's engines in calm waters near a strip of uninhabited land north of the village of Barbados. Judd dropped the anchor, they found flashlights, and they took off their shoes. The Carnivore pulled off his caftan. Beneath it he wore black jeans and a black T-shirt. His muscle tone was excellent, but his skin elasticity showed advancing age. Judd guessed him to be in his fifties.

They rolled up their jeans and waded ashore. Judd carried the duffel, and Eva wore her satchel, the strap across her chest. The wind was quieter here. They crossed the beach, and the Carnivore led them up ancient stone steps carved into a cliff.

At the top, they paused. The moon had risen, casting an eerie light across acres of grapevines tied neatly to wires running between gnarled wood posts. The vines were just beginning to leaf. The air smelled raw, of freshly tilled soil.

They headed off on a narrow dirt trail through the grapevines.

"Do you want to tell me what this is all about, Judd?" the Carnivore asked.

"Reciprocity is another of your rules?"

"A good one, don't you think."

"I like it," Judd said. "But no, I'll handle this."

The trail widened, and the three moved on side by side.

The Carnivore peered around at Judd and said thoughtfully, "Yes, I believe you will--if it can be handled at all. But as for reciprocity, I consider us even by my giving you a safe route into Athens."

"Is Preston free now?" Eva asked worriedly.

"He must be," the Carnivore said. "He had backup."

"What if I'd decided to kill him back in the Grand Bazaar," Judd said. "Your movie would've been burned."

"That would've worked just as well," the Carnivore instructed. "He would've 'awakened' and attacked you. I would've saved the day by helping you to escape, him to live, and the movie to continue."

Judd changed the subject. "What about his note, the one that mentioned Athens. Was it legitimate or a plant?"

"Legitimate. A note to himself. It added to the authenticity and gave you a significant reason to believe what you saw was real. Perhaps more important, we didn't expect you to live long enough to use it or anything else you might've learned there."

"Do you have any information about
The Book of Spies
and Robin Miller?" Eva asked.

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