The Devil's Triangle (A Brit in the FBI 4)

Nicholas said, “Good to meet you, Agent Trident. Welcome to Covert Eyes.”

She had a touch of a Southern accent, not nearly as heavy as Clancy’s. “That was a hell of a save with the president, Agent Drummond, Agent Caine. When Mr. Zachery put out the call, Clancy and I were first in line to request the duty.”

Clancy said, “You’ll see this baby has all the bells and whistles. The onboard equipment is nearly as good as what’s in the director’s plane, but don’t tell him I said that. The comms system is completely encrypted, so don’t worry about taking or making calls, and the Wi-Fi is bouncing off a couple of NSA satellites configured for our own use, so that’s totally secure as well. Food and drink are in the galley. No attendant for you, hope you can fend for yourselves.”

“We’ll be fine,” Nicholas said. “Let me introduce you to the team going to Venice. This is Special Agent Louisa Barry, our forensics expert. She’s been known to pull DNA off a toothpick. She’s a marathon runner and has to chow down carbs so she won’t disappear into a shadow.”

Louisa said, “Trident, you’re a runner, too, right? I recognize a fellow asphalt-slapper.”

Trident nodded. “Big-time, though I hear it’s tough to run in Venice, unless you’re being chased.”

Mike said, “This is Special Agent Lia Scott, in charge of communications. You want to communicate to Sergei in Siberia with no bars on his cell, don’t worry, Lia will figure out a way. She’ll want to check out your encryption system. If she likes you she might loan you one of her earrings.” Today Lia wore six studs going up the shell of each ear. No nose ring today, never when she was on duty, but Nicholas wouldn’t be surprised if she had a belly button ring. He admired Zachery for not caring about a dress code when an agent was as valuable as punk rocker Lia Scott.

Trident said to Lia, “I was admiring your T-shirt. I recognized the double helix on the back, but who’s Rosalind Franklin?”

“Don’t ask her until you’ve got a couple of free hours,” Mike said.

“And this is Adam Pearce,” Nicholas said, “our own private guided missile and computer expert. He doesn’t have piercings and he doesn’t run, but he could hack into the Bank of England and leave a crumpet so all would know he’d been there.”

Trident looked at the lanky youth, with his dirty-blond hair and sharp brown eyes. “You could be my kid,” she said, and shook Adam’s hand.

“He turned twenty last week,” Lia said. “We’re all grateful he’s no longer a teenager.” She gave Adam a pop on the arm.

Nicholas said, “Adam’s not an agent yet, but we’re hoping he’ll take the plunge one of these years. Hey, Adam, you look taller than the last time I saw you.”

Adam said, “It’s the boredom. I’ve had nothing to do but grow. Are we really going after the Fox?”

Now how did Adam know that? “The Fox is only the tip of this iceberg. I’ll tell you everything. Now, buckle up, everyone. Clancy, Trident, let’s get this bird flying east.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Genesis Group Headquarters

Rome, Italy

Cassandra stood on the podium, composed, charmingly patient, as the media sorted themselves out. Not once did she blink against the flashbulbs. She’d been trained by the best. She knew media meetings were important because she was the face and spokesperson of the Genesis Group. It didn?

?t hurt that the cameras loved her face.

Ajax stood by her right elbow. He was looking restless and bored, and that would never do. She pinched the back of his arm, and he shot her a smile that wasn’t at all friendly. But he straightened, even managed a smile, of sorts. Women thought he was sexy and dangerous. They weren’t wrong about that. Men believed he was smart and ruthless, and they weren’t wrong about that, either.

The beautiful Roman sun beat through glass walls of the media room. At last Cassandra waved a hand to quiet the horde and looked down a last time at her notes. She stood for a moment, looking out at all the faces, making eye contact with each one of them, no matter how brief, as she’d been trained to do. She cleared her throat and said in her cultured, elegant voice into the microphone, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today. We’re here to honor the memory of the founder of Genesis, a man with a great vision, our great-great-grandfather Appleton Kohath. On this day nearly one hundred years ago, he established the Genesis Group. I’m very proud to say that we continue to carry on his mission all over the world.

“I’d also like to announce today that we continue in his vision. We’re granting ten million euros to Nezabylice in the Czech Republic, the site of the Marcomanni tombs, to further the excavations of ancient Germanic artifacts that will provide us an invaluable look into these long-ago civilizations.

“The Genesis Group is first and foremost focused on unearthing the past.” Cassandra leaned closed, her lips nearly touching the microphone, again, making eye contact. “We are all one earth, all one people. We will not allow those cultures that came before us to remained buried and forgotten. We want to understand how we’ve come to be here, and understanding our forebears, no matter who they fought with, or for, is the only way to do so.

“The science of archaeology must continue to be married to the other sciences if we want to make these discoveries. I am thrilled today to announce this joint venture with our Polish counterparts, and give the microphone over to Agnieszka Pulpánová-Reszczynska, who will give you a brief history of the project. But first—”

A young man dressed in all black handed her a bottle of champagne and two glasses. She uncorked it, poured out two flutes, and handed one to Pulpánová-Reszczynska, a tanned, fit woman who looked perfectly at ease on the stage beside her. She smiled at her. “To the past,” she said, “and the present, and to our future,” and drank deeply. Her Polish counterpart smiled and followed suit.

Cassandra walked offstage to applause, tuning out the Pole even before she started to talk. Ajax joined her, and together they disappeared into the hallway behind the conference room.

Ajax said, “You are so antisocial, and yet, put you in front of cameras and you dazzle the world. Mother trained you well. The press loves you.”

“We’ll see how much they love me if they ever find out what we’ve been up to.”

A trill sounded, and Ajax checked his text message. “Lilith is waiting for us. She has news.”