The Devil's Triangle (A Brit in the FBI 4) - Page 41

Mike rolled her eyes at him and imagined Dillon doing the same thing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Cassandra woke after a solid eight hours of wonderful dreams—her mother standing in front of the tunnel in Castel Rigone, a hand on the Ark, and she’d looked luminous. She felt the quiet steady sound of the airplane engine. Cassandra stretched, yawned, and smiled over at Ajax as he made coffee.

At her first sip, she felt caffeine send a lovely zing to her brain. And she felt the movement of the plane. “Where are we?”

“We’ll be home in an hour.”

“Has there been any news on the thief?”

“Lilith called me to tell me our people missed again, but I’d already seen what happened for myself. I told her I would have to punish her.” Ajax smiled. Then he pulled out his iPad. “You can always count on tourists and their cell phones to record everything. Take a look.”

Cassandra watched the scene unfold. When it was over, she said, “I never saw the thief.”

“Lilith said she never spotted her, either, but she already told me she was a genius at disguise. The FBI team killed all Pazzi’s men.”

“And Major Russo? What does he have to say about this?”

“Lilith says Russo is very angry. Apparently this FBI agent, Nicholas Drummond, got in his face, humiliated him, blamed him. Then she laughed, said Russo was primed and ready for payback, that she believed he could be the answer to all our problems.”

“Nicholas Drummond,” Cassandra said slowly. “Isn’t he the British FBI agent who saved the American president’s life?”

“The very one.”

“But however did this Drummond get hooked up with the thief? I mean, he brings a team to Venice to save her, save a criminal?”

“Lilith told me she believed there was some sort of bond created between them, even though Drummond bested her and brought the Koh-i-Noor back to New York. Lilith thinks they might have struck some sort of deal, but she doesn’t know what it is and doesn’t know how to find out.”

Ajax sat down beside her, crossed his legs. He took a sip of his coffee. “Lilith also told me Pazzi’s men are in the Venice morgue and Pazzi is babbling, he’s that scared, and, she thinks, ready to run. She has calmed him and also made it clear to Major Russo that there will never be a connection made to Pazzi or to us, or the good major will never again sleep with his new mistress. Lilith would personally see to it. Evidently he believed her, which means he’s not altogether stupid.”

Cassandra tapped her fingertips together. “We’re still at risk, grave risk, despite Lilith’s assurances. Listen, Grandfather already has a storm queued in the Atlantic, this one is meant to go to the Gulf of Mexico—drive down oil futures with another Katrina, provide us needed funds. This would take the focus off what happened today in the Gobi Desert, and possible tie-ins to us. Maybe we should have Grandfather release it now.”

Ajax said slowly, “I don’t think we can count on Grandfather to do anything we want. I don’t think he trusts us any longer, Cassandra, nor does he approve of our methods. You know he expects all his minions to do his bidding, bow before him. He expects no less of us.”

She clutched his arm. “The old fool’s crazy. He’s been isolated for too long, I doubt he’d even know what do in the real w

orld. He lives in his own fantasy, a world of his own creation where he’s an omnipotent god. I don’t think the real world—our world—even exists for him any longer. So sanctimonious about all the deaths in Beijing, makes me sick. I mean, do you think he cared about the loss of life before the Gobi? No, all those deaths over the decades were outside and apart from him, like deaths on the movie screen. The misery never touched him.”

Ajax said, “Well, it’s never touched us much, either. That’s why I’m worried he no longer trusts us. He’s grown a conscience.”

His sister shrugged. “Who cares? Listen, Ajax, we can’t allow it to touch us, because we’re gods of a different sort.”

He liked that. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It is unfortunate we have to pander to him.” He shrugged. “But we have no choice. We want to achieve a particular result, then we have to go to the island, hat in hand, love and admiration for the old coot oozing out of our mouths.”

Cassandra sat back, wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “I remember he wasn’t always like this, not until Mother went missing in the Gobi.” She smashed her fist against her thigh. “I miss her, Ajax, every single day.”

He looked out the window. They were encased in clouds. He felt anger at his grandfather boiling up again. “The old man admired our mother, even worshipped her, she was his lodestone, his guiding star. We’ve never been anything to him. Even with the cherubim’s wing and mother’s map hinting the Ark might be under the mountain at Castel Rigone, still it’s not enough for him. I wonder what direction he will turn? What will he do?”

Cassandra said, her voice vicious, “If we could only talk him into giving us his formula locked away in his precious vault, then we could simply kill him and take over.” She stopped talking, and Ajax knew she was deep in thought.

“Yes,” she said at last. “There has to be a way.” She rose and began to pace up and down the aisle. She paused, looked out the window. “Not long now. Where is the thief’s husband?”

“Lilith had him taken to the dungeons beneath Castel Rigone. He’s strong, tough, trained Special Forces, so I told her to keep him drugged so we wouldn’t have to worry about him escaping.

“I also told Lilith she has to get a message to the thief—since the debacle in San Marco. Tell her Grant Thornton is a dead man if she doesn’t present herself to Pazzi in Venice.”

“I have a better idea,” Cassandra said, and she was smiling. “I no longer trust Pazzi to get the job done. We need to find a way to get the thief to Castel Rigone. Let her know if she doesn’t come, then her husband’s minutes on this earth are numbered.”

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