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"Is this going to be expensive?"
"Probably. Most of those are textbooks. They're not cheap. I already have most
of them in my loft, but you'll have to have someone purchase those for us
along the way."
Hallinger reached into his pocket and came out with a folded piece of paper.
"I made a list, too."
Reluctantly, McIntosh took the professor's list, as well.
"If there are any duplicates," Hallinger said, "just cross them off."
"Actually, make sure we get two of each," Annja said. "It would be better if
we had our own books to search through."
"Well," Hallinger said, "that is true. What with notes and possibly needing to
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consult the same book at the same time."
"Didn't you learn anything while you were getting your degrees?" McIntosh
asked.
"Archaeology isn't like law enforcement," Annja said pointedly. "We don't get
an updated list every day of who the bad guys are and what steps to take when
we find them. There are thousands of years of human habitation to learn about,
and millions of years before that. A lot of archaeologists specialize. But
some of us, like Professor Hallinger and myself, understand that archaeology
and the study of civilization is a lifelong pursuit. Even your doctor hands
you off to a specialist when things get to be unfamiliar. That specialist is
just like us. He or she will open a book, get on the Internet or call a
colleague to get more information."
McIntosh held up his hands. "Point taken." He handed the lists to the agent on
the other side of Annja. "Call it in."
The agent made the call, told whomever he was talking to that the books needed
to be delivered to Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris and started reading off
the book titles.
Annja focused on McIntosh. "Do you want to tell us now why Homeland Security
has agreed to fly us to West Africa?"
McIntosh grinned at her. "For the treasure hunt, of course."
Annja just looked at him.
"I thought a little humor might help," McIntosh said.
"Two security guards died last night," Annja said. "I'm not in the mood for
humor."
McIntosh sobered.
Despite his devil-may-care attitude, Annja could see that he was tired, too.
"Actually," McIntosh said in a more subdued tone, "you're going to be bait."
"Gani Abiola, the guy from last night that you came to know as Icepick,"
McIntosh said, "is the nephew of Tafari."
"The West African warlord you mentioned," Hallinger said.
Annja sat at the table in the small security room McIntosh had arranged at the
Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. She picked at the breakfast
tray the security personnel had delivered right after they'd arrived.
"Right," McIntosh agreed. "Tafari has become a person of interest to Homeland
Security."
"You mentioned that he had ties to al-Qaeda," Annja said. "That he'd provided
training camps for them."
McIntosh nodded and tapped a button on the notebook computer that had been
delivered with the meal. Someone had put together the file he was now using.
"The department has reason to believe that Tafari's exposure to al-Qaeda goes
deeper than that."
Pictures scrolled across the computer screen. Several of them showed scenes in
the African savanna lands, filled with short trees and scruffy brush. They
were obviously surveillance shots taken with long-range lenses.
"Intelligence suggests that Tafari has been part of a biological-weapons
research effort on behalf of al-Qaeda," McIntosh went on.
"What makes them think that?" Annja asked.
"That's classified information, Ms. Creed."
"You said we're being used as bait."
"To draw Tafari out. Not al-Qaeda."
"And if we just happen across a biological-weapons research center while we're
out in the bush?" Annja asked.
McIntosh shook his head and looked very confident. "You won't be anywhere near
al-Qaeda."
"You can guarantee that?" Hallinger asked.
"I feel very confident about that," McIntosh replied.
"That's reassuring," Annja said.
"Look," McIntosh said, "I understand the sarcasm. I really do. Personally, I
didn't want to put you people in the field." His eyes turned harder. "You're
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civilians. You're not trained for this. If I was in charge of this expedition,
neither one of you would be going. We've got other people that we have access
to that have some training. Enough to save themselves." He looked at
Hallinger. "You've got no experience at all when it comes to this."
"I'm not going to argue with you," the professor responded.
"And you." McIntosh looked at Annja and took a deep breath.
Annja returned his challenging gaze full measure.
"You tackle guys in the path of oncoming cars," McIntosh grated. "Not exactly
the brightest thing I've ever seen. There's a certain lack of subtlety in
something like that."
Annja resisted the impulse to fire a rejoinder.
"Whether you go with us or without us," McIntosh said, "you know that Tafari
is interested in that Spider Stone you found. Going over there by yourselves 
if you could find someone to pick up the tab  isn't a good idea, either. No
matter what you do, you're going to be dealing with him. You're better off
letting us deal with him. That's what we're trained to do."
Silence hung in the room for a moment.
"You know," Hallinger said quietly, "Special Agent McIntosh has a valid
point."
Reluctantly, Annja agreed.
Someone knocked on the door.
"Enter," McIntosh said.
One of the agents posted outside opened the door and stepped inside. He held
up a hand. "Five minutes until we board."
McIntosh nodded.
The agent stepped back into the hall.
"Okay," McIntosh said, looking back at Annja and Hallinger, "it's show time.
Are you in or out?"
Annja woke on the plane. It was dark. For a moment she didn't remember where
she was and she knew she was very tired. She traveled a lot, but there was
something about flying at night that she found unnerving. A heavy book rested
on her lap, and she shifted it to a more comfortable position.
"I could put it in the overhead compartment."
McIntosh sat on her left. He held out a hand.
Annja memorized the page number and passed the book over to him. He stood long
enough to put the book away.
"Pillow or blanket?" he asked.
"No. Thanks."
McIntosh dropped into his seat. "You okay?"
"Yeah." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]