Authors: Elizabeth Jennings
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Fiction
Darkness at Dawn (27 page)
He looked up at the heavy, blindingly white glacier seven thousand meters above, a great white spill between two mountain spurs. A fierce katabatic wind flowed down the glacier, carried by gravity. It was very likely that the parka had caught in the wind and been driven downhill. On the other hand, apparently there was rich wildlife in this area, the Himalayan Frontal Thrust, and it was also entirely possible that an animal had carted it away.
Mike studied the terrain carefully, but if there were animal tracks, the wind had ablated them away.
He’d opted for downhill simply because in the hours of daylight left, he’d be able to search a wider area than he would have been able to trekking uphill. And he was right. He found the parka and the flash drive four hundred yards downhill.
When Mike pulled the flash drive out, his heart sank. The flash drive was bloodstained and the metal USB connector was twisted.
It wasn’t usable in any way. They’d have to wait until they got back to Langley and the technoweenies could fix it.
He and Lucy had to leave immediately; the intel on that flash drive was time-sensitive. But the damned general had locked them into being here for that Dragon whosis, and he wouldn’t be amused if they left early.
If they
could
leave early. The airport was closed, and if they made a run for it in a stolen vehicle, they’d be picked up well before they reached the border five hundred miles away. And the white hats were not going to make an incursion five hundred miles into sovereign territory without permission to pick them up. Urgent as the intel was, no one was going to provoke an international incident over a flash drive whose contents were unknown.
could
leave early. The airport was closed, and if they made a run for it in a stolen vehicle, they’d be picked up well before they reached the border five hundred miles away. And the white hats were not going to make an incursion five hundred miles into sovereign territory without permission to pick them up. Urgent as the intel was, no one was going to provoke an international incident over a flash drive whose contents were unknown.
No, they had to stay.
The concentration of soldiers grew heavier the closer he got to the area where Lucy was working. His heart rate slowed down even further, blood rushing to his hands and feet. His reaction to danger.
Something was wrong. Something had happened to Lucy. She hadn’t called him all day. They both had satphones and a verbal code. If she was in danger, the code word was “sunset,” and if he was in danger, the code word was “birthday.”
She hadn’t called once.
Maybe she’d gone to see her friend the princess, and the general had caught them talking; maybe he had some other reason to suspect her; maybe she’d tried to send an email to her uncle Edwin and it had been intercepted . . .
There were several soldiers outside the lab, and by the time Mike got to the door he was so worked up he just rushed by them and slammed the door open, body entirely ready for combat.
Lucy looked up, startled, from her workbench. The manuscript was rolled out to its full length and she was working on it. She was safe, unharmed.
He’d been so crazy with panic he’d even left the door behind him open, which was not smart. Not something he’d have done ordinarily.
“Michael.” Lucy rose, smiling, completely natural, as if a wild man hadn’t just slammed into her lab. She went up to him, kissed him on the cheek standing on tiptoe and then, just as naturally, closed the door.
An engaged couple wanting some privacy after a day’s separation. Most natural thing in the world.
Mike felt like an idiot.
“You okay?” Lucy asked with a frown.
He nodded. For some strange reason, his throat was too dry to talk.
“Did you get it?”
He silently pulled the bent, bloodstained flash drive from his pocket and held it out to her in the palm of his hand. She winced.
“That’s not good.”
Mike shook his head. No, it wasn’t good.
“Let me see if I can do something here.” She took the flash drive from him and stared at it for a moment, then met his eyes, sorrow on her face. That blood was the blood of a good operative, who’d done a very brave thing and had died for it. “We need to get the information in this out as soon as possible.”
She took it over to her workbench and examined it carefully. Though she already had a pair of very serious blackframed glasses on, she took out what looked like a jeweler’s loupe.
“Hmm. We need to get rid of the blood first. The casing’s cracked. If the blood gets in, it can destroy the internal mechanism.” She tilted her head. “Do you know what the inside of a flash drive consists of?”
Mike shook his head.
“Neither do I. So let’s just hope it hasn’t been hopelessly compromised.”
She took a small jar from her work case and unstoppered it. The heavy scent of solvent filled the air. Next, she took a tiny brush, dipped it into the jar and very slowly and extremely carefully cleaned the outer casing of the flash drive.
Her movements were careful and delicate. She didn’t rush. Finally she looked up, holding the drive in the palm of her hand. It was immaculate.
“I checked the casing carefully. It’s cracked but intact, so with some luck the blood hasn’t penetrated the workings.”
They both stared at the little plastic device with the bent metal USB connector, completely unusable. And so very important.
“I think I can straighten the metal bit, the port,” Lucy said quietly, putting the flash drive back on the counter. “But I’m not certain. If I make a mistake and the metal breaks, the information inside will be lost until we can get back home.” She looked up at him, waiting for his decision.
Lucy had placed her technical expertise, including her knowledge of the language and customs of Nhala, at the disposal of the mission.
The tactical mission decisions were his to make. She’d made that clear, just as she’d made it clear that she would abide by his decisions. She didn’t try to horn in on his part, just as he didn’t horn in on her area of expertise. He’d followed her lead with Paso and the general instinctively, and she was waiting calmly for his lead in this matter.
Partnership at its finest. No ego, no tantrums.
He looked at her hands, slender and competent. Cleaning the flash drive, her movements had been delicate and sure.
The decision settled within him.
“Straighten it out now.”
Without another word, she pulled a gleaming steel instrument from her work bag. It looked like a space-age pair of pliers. She bent over the flash drive, holding the metal connector delicately by the pliers, and exerted a little pressure, utterly concentrated on the task.
There wasn’t much Mike could do to help her, so he simply stood there, watching her. The bright overhead light made her hair shine, picking out blond and red glints in her chestnut hair. Standing over her, he admired the dark, lush crescent of lashes over the curve of her cheekbone, the delicate play of tendons and bones in her hands as she operated on the flash drive with the skill and dexterity of a surgeon . . .
The door crashed open and General Changa stood in the doorway, three soldiers behind him.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!
The general would find the flash drive. If some tech guy in his army was able to replicate what Lucy was doing, open the drive, he’d understand immediately what was going on. The intel was heavily encrypted, but the general would want to know what they were doing with files with sixteen-bit encryption.
Mike moved immediately in front of Lucy. If anything was going to happen, it was going to have to happen through him.
But she rose smoothly, brushing his arm as she stood, and he read the message loud and clear.
Stand down.
She’d felt his tension and she wanted him to know she’d handle this.
Well, they were partners. Okay. She’d know more about how to behave in front of a Nhalan dictator than he would.
“General Changa,” she said warmly, walking up to him, giving him the Nhalan greeting. However hard Mike looked, he could see no sign of the flash drive. “How kind of you to visit. I know how busy you are, but it’s a pleasure to show you the progress that has been made on the manuscript. Such an interesting document, too. It’s an honor to work on it. Come in, please.”
And she beckoned him into the room, cool as you please.
One soldier followed the general closely, basically walking in his footsteps. The other two took up stations on either side of the door. They all carried their weapons at port arms, ready to fire at an instant’s notice.
Mike was unarmed. Any move on his part and he’d be dead and no use to his country and, above all, no use to Lucy. The only thing he could do was stand ready and try to disguise the gnashing of teeth.
The general stood so close to Lucy that Mike imagined the fine hairs of her body were standing up. His sure were. The general was an observant son of a bitch. He quartered the room carefully, checking everything out, making no pretense that he was casually looking around. His gaze eventually made its way back to Lucy.
“I came to see how the restoration is proceeding.”
“Oh, it’s so exciting, General Changa.” Lucy was smiling, cheerful, as she led the general to her workbench. “Great progress has been made, as you can see.”
The general bent down to look at the opened parchment, standing very close to Lucy. She would be unable to make the slightest untoward movement without him noticing.
Where the fuck was the flash drive? It had to be in her lab coat pocket.
The general grunted, looking down at Lucy. Mike’s hackles rose at his expression, cold and calculating. He was looking for an excuse to accuse her of something, but there wasn’t any. A dead man could see that she had been working hard all day.
Whatever the nature of the parchment, whether it was real or fake, it had arrived in bad shape. Now it was stretched out to its full extent, Lucy’s work clearly visible. Half of the parchment had been carefully cleaned, the underlying material the tawny glow of a lion’s mane instead of spotted with dirt.
“Good,” the general grunted, almost in spite of himself.
Lucy beamed. “Oh, thank you, General! That is very kind of you. It is not an easy job. The parchment was quite friable, so I started out by using an ultrasonic mister, and then I used methylcellulose instead of gelatin as a consolidant, because of course—”
“Enough!” It was possible that the soldiers didn’t understand English, but they understood tones of voice. Their hands tightened on their weapons at the general’s tone.
“Oh, sorry!” Lucy shook her head at her own foolishness. “I do get carried away. I apologize, General. It’s just that it is such an interesting document from all points of view.”
Her tone was breezy, a little chagrined that she’d let herself go on about technical issues.
Mike was amazed. She was giving an absolutely word-perfect imitation of an unworldly academic, completely immersed in her own narrow little world, with no interest in anything else. A nerd, and completely harmless.
Her body language was perfect, as well. Open, a little overenthusiastic. Puppy-like, even.
Only he could see the vein pumping in her neck, the faint sheen of perspiration on her forehead.
She was magnificent.
The general looked around again, cold and suspicious.
“The princess recommended you.” Something in his voice suggested that the recommendation from the princess was in itself a reason for suspicion.
“Yes. That was very kind of her.” She smiled up into his dead, black eyes. The eyes of a cobra. “I am surprised she even knew that I studied restoration. We haven’t been in touch in
years.
”
years.
”
The general studied her face for a full minute. She stood still under his gaze, beaming cheerfully. He looked down at her workbench, picking up the pliers she’d dropped onto the countertop when he’d marched into the room. “What is this? You need this to restore a manuscript?”
Mike tensed. It was not anything you’d associate with paper restoration, yet it was something she had clearly been using.
“Oh, that.” Lucy picked up a sharp, short blade. “This is to scrape extraneous matter such as dirt or dust off the surface of the parchment. Even minute imperfections in the blade are intolerable, can cause irreparable damage. This one has a slight indent. If I were back home, at the Smithsonian, I would have sent the scraper back to the manufacturer to have it reground and resharpened, but since this is a time-sensitive restoration, I decided to straighten the blade out myself. I have a fairly steady hand.”
The general listened impassively, heavy features absolutely still. “Have you seen the princess today?” he asked suddenly.
Lucy blinked, the very picture of puzzlement. “The princess? Why no, I’ve been in the lab all day. As a matter of fact, I haven’t even had lunch and I’m starving. I wonder whether—”
“A meal will be brought to you, to your quarters. I suggest you retire there now.” He held his hand out, and Lucy’s smooth brow furrowed. “Your lab coat,” the general said impatiently.
Mike’s blood froze. Shit. The flash drive was in one of the lab coat pockets, it had to be. The general was suspicious of something, that was clear. Mike readied himself. Lucy was going to refuse, perhaps play the modest lady card, the general would insist, and then those bastards behind him would bring up their assault rifles . . .
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