The Norse Directive (8 page)

Sean tilted his head to one side and then the other, still carefully eyeing the outside of the leather book. “Sorry to be so vague. It’s just that I’ll need some time to think about what’s in this,” he held up the journal. “I’ll also have to do a bit of research on your ancestor to find out all I can about him, as well as anyone else who may have used this to look for whatever he was trying to find.”

Coop nodded his approval. “You may take the diary with you to Atlanta. I assume you would like your researchers to have a look at it as well?”

“Probably,” Sean shrugged. “They’d love to get their hands on this. To be honest, you’re lucky it’s in such good shape. Something as old as this doesn’t usually keep very well unless it’s in an airtight container. Since it’s made from lamb skin and leather, surviving the last few hundred years wasn’t as difficult.”

“What about the riddle at the end of his entry?” Charlie asked, sliding his chair back to where it had been previously.

“Not sure, Charlie.” Sean flicked his eyes at his friend and then back to Coop. “Could mean anything at this point. We’re trying to put together a puzzle without looking at the picture on the box. For now, let’s get this back to IAA and see what the kids can come up with. I’ll start trying to dig up anything I can on Francis Jackson and any of Coop’s other ancestors that might have known anything about what he was looking for.”

“Splendid,” Coop said, throwing his hands up in the air. He raised the tall, half-full mug of beer to his face and proceeded to pour the rest of the contents down his throat. Setting the mug back onto the table, he sighed as if a great thirst had been quenched. “Well then, gentlemen, shall we head back to the house for the evening? I’ve got some good bourbon if either of you are so inclined.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Charlie said.

“I’ll pass,” Sean waved a dismissive hand. “But I appreciate the offer. Besides, I’d rather keep a clear head right now. Something is strange about this whole scenario.”

A few minutes later, the three men were back on the road, returning to Coop’s house. He’d had a few large beers while at the barbecue joint, and his speech carried the slightest slur to it.

“Tell me, gents, what happened to Charlie? You said there was some sort of altercation earlier?” Coop said, his arms outstretched across the back of the rear seat.

“Some commie kidnapped me and tried to kill me,” Charlie grumbled.

Sean laughed at the way he said it. “To be fair, Coop, the guy was Russian, and they aren’t communist anymore.”

“Once a commie, always a commie,” Charlie corrected.

Coop took on an air of concern, leaning forward in the backseat. “Someone abducted you and tried to kill you?”

Charlie nodded. “Guy said he was looking for your coin. Didn’t say why. He wanted to know where it was and where I got it.”

Coop’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry that my family heirloom has caused you so much trouble.” He thought for a second before continuing. “Sean, how did you come to be involved with all this?”

Sean switched lanes and sped past a slow moving eighteen-wheeler before merging back into the center lane. “I was on my way to see Charlie, noticed him in the passenger seat of the Russian’s rental car, followed, saved his butt.” He grinned as he said the last part, knowing it would annoy his friend.

Charlie remained silent, but Sean figured he wanted to say something to the effect that he had the situation under control.

Coop shook his head slowly. “I am so terribly sorry. I did not realize asking you to help with this would bring about such trouble.” Regret filled his voice.

“I’m fine,” Charlie said, half twisting around to look in the rear seat. “Don’t worry about it.”

Coop forced a smile back onto his face.

“But I do want some of that bourbon,” Charlie added with a chuckle.

Another fifteen minutes later, Sean steered the Mustang back into the gravel driveway and up the hill to Coop’s home. The men got out of the car and made their way to the front porch, but stopped short on the landing just before reaching the door.

The wood where the doorframe met the deadbolt was in splinters, and the door hung slightly ajar. Sean held up a finger to the other two and padded back to the parked car. He opened the door and reached in, pulling out the weapon he’d taken from the Russian earlier in the day. He pulled the slide back, chambering a round, before rejoining the other two at the front door.

“Stay here,” he mouthed.

Coop and Charlie nodded.

Sean kicked open the door and scanned the left side of the area first, then the right. Next, he rushed to the back of the living room where it adjoined the dining area, rounded the corner, and cleared the kitchen. Once the main parts of the house were checked, he swept through the two bedrooms and bathrooms to make sure the rest of the house was empty. It was a routine he’d performed many times before. In total, the entire process only took him about ninety seconds. 

Once he was sure the house was clear, he went back to the front and motioned for the other two to come inside. “It’s clean,” Sean informed them. “Well, sort of.”

He waved a hand around at the scene before them. Papers were strewn across the floor near the overturned desk. Sofa cushions had been cut open and the stuffing pulled out. As the men made their way to the kitchen, they discovered drawers lying on the floor with silverware and various items of stationery scattered about.

A quick tour of the home revealed to Coop that the same treatment had been given to every room. His wide, disbelieving eyes said it all.

“Looks like our Russian friend followed us,” Charlie said with his hands on his hips, observing the scene.

“Yeah,” Sean agreed. “And it also looks like we’re going to have to find another place to crash.”

Knoxville, Tennessee

The phone only rang twice before Petrov’s employer picked up.

“What is the hold up?” the Frenchman on the other end of the line asked in an annoyed tone.

Petrov didn’t like Dufort, per se. He found the skinny man to be arrogant. It came as little surprise to the Russian since Dufort had basically been spoiled rotten his entire life. The two men were nearly the same age, but had grown up in very different worlds. Petrov’s had been a life of struggle, scraping by with whatever dirty skills he could be paid to use.

Nonetheless, he had to be respectful. While Petrov didn’t respect the man, he certainly respected the amount of money he was given.

“We had an unforeseeable problem.” He didn’t want to tell Dufort what had happened, but not giving an explanation would be worse than honesty. Silence would cause more questions to arise.
Better to give the story
, he thought.

“Problem? What kind of problem?” Dufort’s tone only increased in its level of irritation. “I pay you to take care of problems.”

“And I will,” Petrov responded calmly. “All will be handled shortly.”

“Did the old man give you trouble?”

Petrov snorted at the comment. “No. The old man was not the issue. Someone else showed up. He appeared out of nowhere and ambushed me. It will not happen again.”

The Russian knew his employer did not tolerate failure. Dufort’s reputation of being ruthless had spread like a virus through the underworld. From what he’d heard, the man had personally killed hundreds of people. Petrov didn’t mind killing. Some people couldn’t handle it. They would hallucinate the faces of the people they’d murdered, spending their lives riddled with guilt. Petrov had a sort of twisted respect for Dufort in regards to this. Anyone else who was blessed and cursed with the same irreverence for life earned a small portion of his admiration, even if he didn’t like the spoiled brat.

“What of the coin? Surely you must have at least retrieved that?”

Strike two. Petrov decided on this point, a lie was the better way to proceed. “The old man did not have it in his possession. It was the last bit of information I got out of him before I was ambushed.”

Dufort sounded dubious. “You’re positive he did not have it?”

“I have looked into the eyes of many men. I know when they are staring into the face of death, whether or not they are lying. This one was not lying. He did not have the coin, but fortunately, I was able to track down the man who does. I will have it for you shortly.” Nothing wrong with a little fiction mixed in with the truth, Petrov thought.

There was a short pause on the line before Dufort spoke again. “Good. See to it that you have the coin before our next chat. I must have it. Without the coin, the treasure is lost.”

“Understood. Relax. I will have it for you soon.”

The Frenchman started to say something else, but Petrov pressed the end button on his phone before Dufort could finish. Hanging up on his employer wouldn’t win him any brownie points, but that wasn’t something he cared about. Petrov wanted to make sure his employer knew that he was like a venomous snake. He must be treated with respect and care, otherwise he could bite the hand that feeds him.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and pulled up the binoculars again. In the dark of night, seeing what was going on at the little rancher was difficult. After the three men had gone to dinner, Petrov ripped through the home in search of the golden coin. He thought the homeowner had put it back in the desk, but when Petrov examined it, there was nothing to be found but a bunch of bills and research notes.

He’d literally searched everywhere, but there was no sign of the coin. Petrov realized the man they called Coop had probably taken it with him for safekeeping. The thought caused the Russian to wonder if they knew he was there. That would be impossible though. No one would think that he would have been able to track down Fowler and his friend to Knoxville. This meant Cooper was probably a paranoid sort.

Petrov knew that when the men returned and found Cooper’s home in total disarray, they would probably leave and find another place to stay. Unless he missed his guess, the Russian figured they would head back south where they likely had more friends.

Knowing his targets were going somewhere public to eat, Petrov figured he had at least forty-five minutes to find another car. The old truck had served his purpose, but it was nearly out of gas, and he’d already grown tired of the musty smell. Up the road, he discovered a much nicer sedan parked outside a supermarket. The leather interior was a huge upgrade to the old vinyl seats of the truck.

He spotted some movement at the top of the hill and watched as the three cautiously exited the house and climbed into the Mustang. Petrov had found a perfect place to hide, just behind some bushes that had grown up around an abandoned house two driveways down.

The Mustang revved to life and descended the driveway, turning right and heading back toward the interstate. Petrov started his new car and hurriedly wheeled it onto the road. He loved it when people were predictable.

A few minutes later, he watched the Mustang leave a gas station and steer onto the interstate heading south, back the way it had come before. Petrov smiled wickedly. He knew they would be watching for him, but on the busy highway, he could easily blend in with the flow of traffic. His targets would never see him coming.

Atlanta

The drive from Knoxville to Atlanta took just over three hours, with a short stop in between.

Charlie demanded to be dropped off back at his place, or at the very least be allowed to stop by and grab a few things, but Sean wouldn’t hear of it.

“It’s not safe to go back there, Charlie,” he’d warned.

“I just need to get my toothbrush and some clean clothes, Sean. Nobody’s gonna get the jump on me if we are there for two minutes.”

His protests didn’t work. “I’ll buy you some clothes when we get to Atlanta. There’s a mall close to my place, so you can get whatever you need.”

Coop enjoyed the argument from the back seat, though he still had his own concerns. “I can’t believe they tore up my home.”

Sean peeked into the mirror, locking eyes with the occupant in the rear. “I know. And I realize that calling the police is normally the right move, but let Emily put people on it. She’s extremely thorough and will get us more leads than the cops.”

Between Knoxville and Chattanooga on the trip back, Sean had called his friend Emily Starks, the director of a super secret government agency known as Axis. While only twelve agents worked for the organization, the director had access to other branches of the government. Essentially, if Emily needed a CSI unit somewhere, she could call any of the larger agencies and have them on hand in no time.

Axis had been formed right after the end of World War II, and had survived through the decades as a ghost agency. If one of the operatives was killed in the line of duty, their identity was erased and any ties to Axis were completely dissolved. Being an agent in a ghost operation was not for the faint of heart. Sean Wyatt had done the job for several years after finishing college. He went against the typical recruit the agency looked for; both of his parents were still alive. Usually, they went after orphans. But the director who’d brought Sean in thought that a breath of fresh air might do the organization some good. An agent with something to lose might become one of the best around.

Sean had proved the man correct during his tenure, but the high stress of the position took its toll, and Sean resigned, opting to take a position with his old friend, Tommy Schultz at IAA.

Those connections to the government still helped Sean more than he cared to admit. It seemed like he was calling Emily for a favor every month, though he actually only talked to her once every ninety days or so.

He shook his head at the thought. Emily was a good friend, and he knew he should call more often just to chat instead of only calling every three months when he needed some strings pulled. Then again, she was a busy woman, and probably didn’t have much time for socializing.

During the drive, Coop had wanted to know more about what Sean did for the IAA. Sean explained the services the organization provided along with the basic search and recovery things that they did. Coop’s fascination radiated from his face.

“It sounds like you’ve seen the world and then some,” his tone was almost reverent.

“I’ve been a lot of places, not all of them good. But I was afforded the chance to travel, discover things that had been lost for a long time, and even have an adventure or two.” He winked into the mirror at the man in the back.

Coop’s face crinkled a little. “It sounds like an amazing lifestyle. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you quit?”

Sean knew that question was coming. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked him that. “Eventually, all the running around gets tiresome. Ever since I got out of college, I’ve been on planes, in hotels, dodging bullets, getting the crap kicked out of me…trust me, it gets old pretty quick.”

“Well then, I definitely owe you an apology for…”

“No you don’t,” Sean stopped him in midsentence. “You don’t owe me an apology. Bad things happen sometimes. And sometimes, bad people jump into our lives. We can’t help that. All we can do is make the best decisions and take the best actions to handle it.”

Coop was impressed by the answer, so impressed that he didn’t say anything for another twenty minutes.

When they reached North Atlanta, Sean guided the car through the maze of streets, forests, and lavish homes.

“I’m always impressed with how many trees there are in Atlanta,” Coop said, staring out the window into the dark. “Most cities are laid out with one home right next to another, leaving no room for natural vegetation or plant life.”

Charlie snorted a laugh. “Oh, you’ll love Sean’s place then. He’s got trees out the ying yang.”

Sean simply shook his head as he steered the car off the road and into his driveway. The iron gates opened slowly, allowing the vehicle to pass through. Coop’s eyes grew wider as he observed the property. The driveway wound its way up a gradual hill, weaving between rows of huge trees and lush bushes. In the dark, he couldn’t tell exactly what kinds of plants they were, but the sight was impressive nonetheless.

At the top of the hill, Sean’s terracotta manor rested amid what Coop assumed to be a stand of massive oaks. Floodlights illuminated the sides of the building, showing off the dark shutters and beige siding. Several interior lights were on, giving the impression that someone was home.

“Adriana got here ahead of us,” Sean informed his passengers. “I have two guest rooms, so you guys won’t have to share a bed.” He snickered at the thought.

“Oh, I was hoping Charlie and I could cuddle for the night,” Coop ribbed his friend.

Charlie merely shook his head.

Instead of pulling the car around to the bottom of the driveway to the garage, Sean steered it to the loop in front of the home and parked in front of the fanned, sandstone staircase. As he got out of the car, the heavy walnut door to the house swung open. A woman in gray cotton pajamas and a black tank top appeared in the entrance. Her dark-brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. She crossed her tanned arms, pouting her lips slightly to feign irritation.

“She doesn’t look happy,” Coop whispered as he climbed out of the back seat.

Sean knew better. He trudged up the steps to the open doorway and wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing his lips against hers for a few seconds. When he pulled away, she sighed and smacked him on the chest.

“You know, you make a terrible worried girlfriend,” he joked. “Usually, women like that aren’t international badasses.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I tried. I don’t know if I can ever truly be domesticated.” She shrugged.

“The pajamas are pretty sexy though,” Sean added with a grin.

She shook her head and turned her attention to the other two men who were hesitantly making their way to the home’s threshold. “Welcome, gentlemen.” She extended a hand to the weary travelers, first Charlie, then Coop. “My name is Adriana Villa. I hope your journey wasn’t too difficult.”

“Other than my butt being numb, not too bad,” Charlie grumbled.

Coop shook his head and stepped past his grumpy friend, taking Adriana’s hand in his. He was surprised by the firm grip, although when he took a second look at the definition in her arms, the shock soon dispersed. “My name is Browning Cooper,” he said. “My friends call me Coop.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” she said with a polite smile. “And it’s nice to see you again, Charlie.” She raised an eyebrow with a look that could have melted an iceberg.

Charlie blushed and let a little crease escape across his lips. “Good to see you too, Addy.” He was the only person that called her that, and while she wasn’t sure she liked the shortened version he’d come up with, Adriana knew it was a term of endearment, so she let it pass.

“I’ve arranged the guest rooms for you. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where they are. I’m sure you’re all exhausted. We will have more time for chatting in the morning over coffee.” She put her hand out, motioning for the men to go in ahead of her.

Sean gazed at her quizzically. “Look at you, being all domestic after all.”

She shook her head at his kidding. “There’s nothing wrong with being a good host,” she said stepping inside the home.

“I know I was only—” Sean started to say he was just messing around when the door closed hard in his face. The sound of the lock turning added to the drama of the moment. He shook his head and started laughing, expecting her to open the door in a second. Thirty seconds later, he was still standing there. “She just locked me out of my own house,” he said to himself, still giggling.

The lock turned again, and the door reopened. She leaned against the frame with a sly grin on her face. He shook his head and followed her inside.

The following morning, smells of fresh coffee, turkey sausage, eggs, and toast wafted through the home. Sunlight poured through giant windows into an open kitchen that featured a Tuscan-style stone backsplash, sandstone tile floor, black granite countertops, and cream-colored cabinets.

Sean sat on a stool at the bar, reading through emails on his smartphone, sipping coffee while Adriana busily scoured the Internet for information on the diary and gold coin.

It was a wonder she’d been able to sleep through the course of the night. Sean was startled awake every time he heard a noise outside. Visions of the huge Russian kept him on the thin edge between slumber and alertness, which meant he hardly slept at all.

The two older men scuffled their way into the elegant kitchen in their robes and slippers. Adriana had dug out some old things Sean didn’t wear much anymore and offered them to the guests before heading to bed the night before.

“Nice duds, kid,” Charlie said spinning around in a green-and-brown robe, modeling it for his hosts.

“Glad you like it, Charlie. Did you guys sleep okay?” Sean took another sip from his cup of coffee.

“It was simply one of the most comfortable beds I have ever slept in over the course of my entire life,” Coop proclaimed, stretching out two arms. “I must know where you bought it.”

Sean’s eyes squinted as his lips narrowed in a grin. “I’ll give you the name of the company before you leave. They’re down here in Atlanta. Make really good mattresses.”

“I might just be in the market after a night of sleep like that.” Coop stopped and sniffed the air dramatically. “And something smells outstanding.”

Adriana closed her laptop and smiled at the compliment. “I put the food in the oven because I wasn’t sure when you two would be getting up. From what Sean tells me, you’ve had a harrowing last twenty-four hours.”

She meandered over to the stainless steel oven and removed a few glass dishes containing foil wrapped objects. Once the dishes were on top of the stove, she unwrapped the foil to reveal the sausage and eggs. She then stepped over to a loaf of bread, removed a few slices and put them in the toaster.

“Looks good,” Charlie said with hungry eyes. “You didn’t have to go through all the trouble of cooking that.”

“It was no trouble at all,” she assured them, melting their worries with her smile. “Do you men take coffee?”

Both nodded.

“Yes, please,” Coop said. “One cream and one sugar.”

“Just like Sean’s,” Adriana said as she poured the first cup and added the prescribed amount of sugar and cream.

“One sugar for me is all,” Charlie said politely. Something about her always disarmed his usually gruff nature.

Sean interrupted the morning niceties and slipped his phone into his pajama pants pocket. “We need to take the coin and the diary over to the IAA labs once we finish breakfast. Tommy and his crew should be able to give us some more information on what we’re looking at.”

When the toast was ready, the two older men sat down at a little breakfast table nearby and devoured the food.

“How did you two meet?” Coop asked. He cut the sausage in half and put a piece in his mouth while waiting for the answer.

Adriana took a gulp of coffee before responding. She lovingly put her hand on Sean’s shoulder and rubbed it for a second. “Las Vegas.”

Sean let out a quick laugh. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten their first encounter, but hearing it out loud like that did sound funny.

“Oh?” Coop nodded slowly. “Were you out there for a convention or something, Sean?”

“Not exactly. I was playing in the World Series of Poker. I’d just got knocked out of the tournament. A hit squad came to my hotel.”

“And I saved his life,” she added with a subtle smile.

Sean rolled his eyes. “I would have found a way out of there.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “With a line of armed men behind you and in front of you?”

Sean laughed again. “I coulda jumped through the window.”

“Down onto the street? And that window was at least three inches thick.  You would have killed yourself just trying to get through it.”

He turned to their guests. “She did save my life.”

“You’re welcome,” Adriana said, her mouth hidden behind the coffee mug.

The two older men laughed as they finished shoveling the food into their mouths.

Silence pervaded the room for a minute before Sean’s phone suddenly started ringing. He glanced down at the screen. “It’s Tommy.” Hey, buddy. What’s up?”