The Emperor's Revenge (Oregon Files 11)

He raised the lid. There, in perfect condition, was a trove of papers dating from the time of Napoleon. His researchers at the Academy of Sciences had specifically requested that he bring back any noteworthy papers recovered during the invasion. He had done the same when he had conquered Egypt, bringing back discoveries identified there by his science adviser, Joseph Fourier, whose advanced differential equations are still taught to physics students.

Golov riffled through the papers until he saw a familiar name. He lifted a file out. The title was laden with mathematical jargon about encryption and codes that Golov didn’t understand, but he definitely recognized the author’s name: Alexei Polichev. He looked at several more papers by Polichev and they all seemed to be related to cryptography and the unique formulas that had formed the basis for Ivana’s virus programs.

Now he had a decision to make. Should he take the trunk with him or destroy it with the rest of the treasure? The plan had been to destroy everything and let the recovery team take weeks to sort it all out. The files would be forever lost.

But he also wondered if there might be further use for Polichev’s work. If Ivana could make sense of these papers, perhaps there was more they could accomplish in the future using his theories.

In the end, it was his curiosity that won out. He wanted to know what was in these documents.

Golov slammed the lid shut and closed the latches.

“We’re bringing the trunk with us,” he said to Sirkal and O’Connor. “Let’s move it to the van. Carrying this out will look suspicious, so we’ll have to take care of the police.”

“And the rest of it?” Sirkal asked.

Golov took one last look at the vast treasure.

“Have your men set the charges.”

“Ten minutes?”

Golov nodded. “That should give us plenty of time to get away.”

Sirkal pointed to where they should place the explosives to produce the maximum damage to the treasure. They had enough C-4 to reduce the hoard to fragments. O’Connor and Jablonski grumbled about destroying that much gold, but they did as they were told.

Not only would the Russians fail to get their lost treasure back but the devastation would seem to be the result of the natural gas explosion they’d been sent here to prevent. By the time anyone suspected differently, Golov and his men would be long gone.

FIFTY-ONE

When Trono brought the boat to a halt under the bridge closest to the Vilnius Cathedral, water was falling from the sky in sheets, making the late-afternoon light even more dim. According to the forecast, it wouldn’t let up for another hour. Juan, in his rain jacket, leaped out of the boat with a line, looping it around the bridge support and tying it off.

A wide concrete path, with grass growing in its crevices, bordered the river for those who wanted to stroll along the Neris or drop in a fishing line on a lazy afternoon. Today, the heavy downpour kept the path empty. A large tour boat docked farther up the river was also dark.

“I don’t think anyone will mess with the boat on a day like today,” Trono said as he hopped off. Linda, MacD, and Gretchen followed him.

“We won’t be gone long,” Juan said. “I’ll meet with whoever is in charge of the church and find out if anyone has been interested in the catacombs recently. Or, worse, if the catacombs have already been ransacked. Gretchen, we may need to bring Interpol’s weight down on this one.”

She nodded. “Assuming that the catacombs are still undisturbed, we can request that the Lithuanian authorities have them inspected for any possible hidden cavities.”

“The other possibility is that they are in the cathedral right now,” Juan said. “Without any intel, going in there will be risky, but we may also be able to catch them by surprise since they think we’re still scouring the river for the treasure. We’ll have to improvise. Anyone who thinks we should hold off speak now.”

They were lightly armed with pistols only. However, Juan wasn’t surprised when everyone remained silent.

“If Ah catch any of them myself, Chairman,” MacD said, checking his weapon before replacing it in his waistband under his jacket, “Ah will make sure they give us our money back, unless they want firsthand knowledge of what happens to a gelding.”

Trono winced. “I saw it done once. It’s not pretty.”

“I’m just glad you’re on my side,” Juan said to MacD. “Let’s go.”

They climbed the stairs leading up through the steep, grassy embankment separating the riverside path from the city street level above.

Linda pointed down the street. “The church is a hundred yards that way.”

A thick stand of trees made it impossible to see the cathedral from this distance. They started walking, and when they were within half a block, Juan could see an ornate white church with a circular tower out front.

He also saw a utility van parked in the square near a police car. Two officers were posted outside the entrance.

They stopped walking.