Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 31
part #1 of Gods and Men Series
Eventually, Frost started his own security company, BSI, and again was contacted by the shadowy group a few months ago. They had been captivated by his ruthlessness while in the field and were also impressed with his ability to plan and strategize on the fly.
He stepped up to the door, peering through the peephole and saw the disheveled looking mess of a person, one Sara Carter. He opened the door, stepping aside, allowing her access to his home.
Frost closed the door with a soft but startling bang. Raven jumped at the noise, visibly shaken from last night’s failed attempt.
She turned and threw herself into Frost’s strong arms, where he embraced her like any lover would. He tilted her chin up and kissed her. Raven winced from the intimate touch as Frost pulled back finally noticing the trodden exterior of the woman.
The stone-cold killer had taken quite a beating from the blonde bitch. Her right eye was swollen badly, almost to the point of it being shut and her lip was split. He gently stroked her cheek. “Go use the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Raven quietly nodded, staring into his scarred face, and turned for the bedroom, undressing as she went. By the time she got to the end of the hallway, she was fully nude, and her pace slowed. She turned back towards Frost and smiled. Then, she entered his bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom, turning on the shower.
Frost walked back into his office and typed in his sixteen-digit encrypted password on his computer, effectively locking out anyone who wasn’t him. The information he had on record could ruin a number of country’s governments and all of his previous employers. He kept them just in case someone tried to double cross him.
He then ventured back deeper into his home, following the path his lady friend just took. He quietly stepped into the bathroom, watching her like a predator, as she scrubbed down her near-flawless form. The only imperfection her body displayed was the various bruises and scars, from a near lifetime of fighting. She had been in the private security business for some time now and had her share of injuries for sure.
Frost stepped forward smiling, shutting the door. The woman heard him enter, stopped what she was doing and returned his predatory gaze. She slid open the glass door to the shower, beckoning him forward with her eyes.
He liked this one even though he was acutely aware that she was playing him like a fiddle—or she at least thought she was. He really didn’t want to have to do anything to jeopardize their “relationship.”
Too bad, he thought, his own motto ringing in his head, the one he’s lived by for the last five years.
No loose ends.
He stepped forward, undressing, smiling from ear-to-ear. He wasn’t “happy.” Frost smiled because he knew that his prey had no idea her life was about to end, and it amused him.
Isla de Jaina, Campeche, Mexico
“Archaeogeneticist? What the hell is an archaeogeneticist?”
I glance over at Kane, giving him a look that says, “What the hell man? Shut up!”
“Please excuse our friend, Ms. Dubois,” Nicole calmly says, “he’s a bit slow at times.”
“Yeah,” I add. “He’s an idiot.”
Kane being the big emotional kid of the group just turns and stomps away, towards the tent acting as the dig site’s mess hall. He tends to eat when he’s upset.
We arrived in Campeche an hour ago after driving through the night. Thankfully, Nicole had offered to drive. By some miracle, she had come out of the hand-to-hand fisticuffs with the dark-haired woman none-the-worse-for-wear. All she had to show for the hits she took was a bruised rib and a semi-swollen cheek.
Kane had initially offered to drive, but Nicole turned him down since he was just recovering from a knock to the head and a slight case of bulletwounditis. We both climbed into our respective passenger seats—me up front with Nicole and Kane in back—lying across the seats despite his prodigious size. Ten seconds later he was snoring like a lawnmower. I may have even passed out before the big lug too.
“Sorry, Ms. Dubois—”
“Olivia,” she says, interrupting me.
“Okay then Olivia, please, go on. What happened here exactly?” I ask.
The Frenchwoman relaxed and retold her cliff’s notes version of what she saw, which wasn’t much since she was busy with her own work at the time. Once she was finished recounting what she had witnessed, I started my own line of questioning.
“Why exactly did Dr. Weaver need a specialist like yourself down here in Mexico? If I’m not mistaken, isn’t an archaeogeneticist someone who studies ancient DNA or something?”
Olivia perked up at this question, it was easy to see that she enjoyed talking about her line of work and didn’t get the privilege to do so that often. Most people in such a specialized field often found themselves alienated by the others. So, when someone was genuinely interested in their work, they got pretty excited.
“As an archaeogeneticist, I not only extract and examine the DNA of remains found in sites like this,” she says motioning to the vacant dig, frowning at the sight of its emptiness. She blinks a few times composing herself, and continues, “But, I also assist people like Dr. Weaver and answer questions regarding the possible influence of population growth by tracking and comparing said DNA.”
“What do you mean?” Nicole asks. “Basically, I can use a particular DNA tag, like how someone might use Ancestry.com to figure out their nationality, except on a grander and deeper scale. I can then use this information to help shed light on the origin and geographical spread of an individual ancient language or culture.”
My head is starting to spin at the information just given to me. While impressive, I’m still not quite sure why she is here…in this exact place.
So I ask, “I understand your job, but why are you here?”
The look of confusion Olivia gives me tells me she still doesn’t understand what I’m asking. Thankfully, I have some help.
“Why did Dr. Weaver bring someone of your expertise to Mexico to work on a site like this?” Nicole asks.
This gets the desired effect and Olivia answers promptly. “Dr. Weaver had contacted me with a very specific job in mind.”
“And that is?” I ask.
She quickly continues, “He asked me if tracking the origin of life on Earth was possible, specifically the human genome.”
Now I have my own confused look spread across my face. “Wait, Xander wanted you to find mankind’s origin?”
She nods.
“As in a master race?”
She nods again.
“What did you tell him?” I ask, an uncomfortable feeling building up in my gut.
“I told him it was possible with enough data. It may be feasible to find a link, but we would need to focus on the oldest civilizations in the world and thoroughly analyze the various DNA tags.”
I glance over at Nicole, studying her stoic expression, but I already know what she’s thinking. We are all looking for the same thing, except my crew already knows the answer to the riddle, Atlantis, or as they called it, An’tala. Our respective teams are basically working from either end of the modern-man/Atlantean timeline. The main difference is Olivia is working from the present back, and we are working from the past forward.
“Do you know why Xander was so interested in this?” I ask, hoping that I don’t hear anything that would link them to Zero. The last thing we need is another traitor or mole in our midst, like Omar.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Olivia answers, relieving some of my worries. “Dr. Weaver was always interested in the subject. I suspect—and this is just my personal opinion—he wanted one last chance of finding something before he retired.”
It’s possible, I think, but the timing doesn’t feel right. Why hadn’t Xander followed this hunch if it was truly a “life’s calling” of sorts.
I turn and stare into the distance, thinking of my next move. I need to speak with a few more people before I come to a conclusion.
I turn back to Olivia, “Would you excuse me please Ms. Dubois? I need to make a call.”
“Only if you stop calling me Ms. Dubois,” she says with a smile.
“Fine, but only if you call me Hank,” I reply with my own toothy smile.
I turn again and meet Nicole’s gaze. The smile is immediately erased from my face when I see her dagger eyes burning holes into my soul.
“What?” I ask, not understanding her obvious jealousy. I still have yet to master the art of reading a woman’s emotions correctly. I’m told it’s impossible, but I think I’m getting closer and closer to succeeding.
Yeah, right.
16
Isla de Jaina, Campeche, Mexico
“You there, Todd?” I ask, keying my NVS2’s comm link.
“Sure am. Whatcha’ need, Hank?”
I’m thrown for a second at the software engineer’s informal reply, forgetting he’s not a spy, or even a former soldier, for that matter. Todd Jenkins is, in all his glory, just a techno-geek. He’s a ninja with a keyboard… One with really high-level government clearance.
This puts me at peace for some reason. Maybe it’s the fact that Todd is just a regular guy and not some bureaucratic jerk-off trying to get in my way.
“Can you access Dr. Weaver’s email and recent phone calls and see if anything fits?” I ask, hopeful in the man’s ability.
The first thing Kane had said was to never underestimate Todd and never, ever piss him off.
I had asked, “Why?”
And Kane replied, “Because, not existing or having any kind of identity would really, really suck.”
I agreed. That would, indeed, suck. I refocus on the current discussion.
“Sure can, Hank,” Todd replies. “I’ll call you back on your specs when I find something.” His line then quickly going dead.
When I find something, I think replaying what Todd had just said. Well, it’s nice to know the man is confident in his abilities. Then I recall what Kane said earlier, how he could make someone disappear with the stroke of a key. I’m sure hacking into someone’s personal files is a walk in the park compared to what he does on a daily basis.
“This isn’t good,” grumbles a familiar, concerned voice.
“You hear everything, Dad?” I ask him.
I connected my father before Olivia and I started talking. He wanted to be down here with us but hadn’t been feeling well when I left. He’d been complaining of a bad stomach ache and cramps, and I didn’t want to risk it. We’d be a long, long way from his doctor, no reason to chance it. NVS conference calls were the next best option.
“Yes, I did, Harrison.”
“You think Xander may have been working for Zero?” I say, asking the obvious question.
“I sincerely doubt it—at least not on purpose anyway. Nothing in his past, some thirty-plus years in the field, suggests otherwise. Still, we may want to be cautious.”
“What do you think, Kane?” I ask another of the listeners.
Kane being our official government liaison and all has the final say when it comes to divulging classified material to someone outside our group. As of now, there are the three of us, my father, and Ben Fehr—who Dad insisted on bringing aboard. He was actually downright adamant about it. Dad said Ben wanted to help as much as he could since he was the one who recommended Omar to be our guide in Algeria. He wanted to make it up to us any way he could, even though we told him we didn’t hold it against him. Omar fooled us all, not just him.
“Huh?” A voice gurgles in my ear. All I can hear is munching and swallowing in my earpiece.
“Seriously man, put the snacks down and come out here, will ya?” I turn to where I had last seen Kane venture to—the only place where he could get food—the camp’s mess hall. Or is it a mess tent? Never mind, forget it.
Kane steps out of the food storage place with a bag of Chex-Mix in hand, shoving handfuls into his mouth. He ambles over to us, stopping to check out Olivia, looking up and down her colorfully adorned arms.
“You got Scar in there somewhere?” He asks, still studying her body, an impressed look creeping onto his face. “Or Jafar?”
Nicole rolls her eyes and turns away, an irritated look spreading onto her face. It most likely resembles my own.
“Both,” Olivia answers, obviously pleased that someone has taken an interest in her collection, “but, they’re on my back. I’d have to take off my shirt to show you.”
Kane’s eyes perk up at her unintentional invitation. “We could…you know…step into a tent—”
“Kane!” Nicole and I yell in unison.
“What?” He says startled at our twin outbursts, dropping his snack. It’s then he finally notices our plainly evident expressions of frustration and anger.
“Oh, right. What were you asking?”
Nicole moans, rubbing the back of her neck. She tends to do that when trying to ward off a headache.
“I asked you what you thought about everything,” I say putting a little zing into the words, hoping they sting him a little, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“It’s all screwed up for sure,” he says. “This darkness, or whatever the hell it is, is potent stuff. If it were to fall into the hands of Zero, we’d be in deep shit. We need to be careful who catches wind of this…for…sure.” He trails off as he finishes, finally realizing what I was asking for while he was chomping away on his munchies.
I look to him and then to Olivia, who is just standing there with a confused look on her face.
“Catches wind of what?” Olivia asks. “What aren’t you telling me? Who’s Zero?”
I breathe a heavy sigh, shaking my head, as I step aside, giving Kane the floor.
“All yours,” I say, sitting on a vacated crate, giving him the responsibility of retelling the events that we have endured over these last few months.
* * *
“Atlantis? You’re kidding, right? You three found Atlantis—in the desert!”
“Technically,” I say to the flabbergasted woman. “We found an Atlantean necropolis under where Atlantis was, not the actual city itself. It’s been destroyed for the last few millennia.”
“But, you proved its existence?” She asks.
“Not really, we—” I say.
“Due to national security,” Kane interrupts. “Or, I guess you would say, international security, we weren’t able to divulge any of our findings. What we’re telling you is beyond what you would call top secret.”
“How secret?” Olivia asks.
“I have the authority to eliminate any and all people, who do, in fact, reveal anything related to what we found.” He accentuated the word eliminate so she would understand what he said, loud-and-clear. And she did.
“Oh, right then,” she says with a nervous smile. “Now what?”
I look to Kane, “Specs, please.”
Kane hands Olivia a set of NVS2 glasses, plugging her into our network. She looks them over quizzically and puts them on, flinching when the lenses come to life. They scan her retinas for identification, also a new feature to a first-time wearer.
From here it looks like her eyes are just aimlessly darting back and forth, but she is really just trying to take in all the information that’s being uploaded to her device.
She relaxes and looks back to me and sees me smiling. “What?” She asks a little defensive.
“Nothing…” I answer. Did I look like that when I first put them on? “Dad, you there?”
“Dad?” Olivia asks, a look of confusion on her face.
“Yes, I am Harrison, and hello to you again Ms. Dubois.”
“D-Dr. Boyd! Is that you?” Olivia asks, shocked.
“Yes, it is,” he replies and then gets right to work. “So, I assume you’ve been caught up to speed?”
She nods her head, yes.
“He can’t see you nodding,” Nicole quips, also smiling, an amused look on her face.
“Yes sir, I have,” Olivia says, this time, audibly answering my father.
“Good then. Harrison, what’s your next step?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” I reply. “Olivia, do you think it’s safe for us to search the tomb?”
She shrugs, “I don’t know. If the rain diluted the mix out here then it’s safe to assume whatever’s in there,” she points towards a hill a hundred yards away, “is dry and still toxic.”
“What do you suggest?” Dad asks.
“We have the necessary equipment on location to use in just this situation, including Haz-Mat suits. You never know what you may dig up, you know?”
Smart lady, I think, or maybe it’s just dumb luck. I decided not to delve any deeper into it. “Let’s take a look at the entrance and then we’ll decide on a course of action, okay?”
She nods and leads us towards the dig site.
“So,” Kane asks from behind. “How did you disable the jamming device that was blocking communications? You have training in that sort of thing?”
“No,” Olivia says, shaking her head. “I went out for a walk to clear my head after a few hours of work and stumbled upon a black plastic box and immediately noticed it wasn’t anything we had brought. It sort of looked like a computer modem from ten years ago.”
“What did you do?” Kane asks.
“I took a pick-ax and smashed it to bits,” she answers, talking over her shoulder as she walks. “Communications opened up immediately, and I called Dr. Boyd in Washington.”
I glance back and see Kane nod his approval, an impressed look spreading across his face.
“Primitive, yet effective. Excellent job, Belle,” Kane replies, referring to her as the French bookworm turned princess.
Olivia doesn’t turn to acknowledge the man, but walking next to her I can see a slight smile forming on her face. Uh, oh, I think. The theme from Love Boat pops into my head, but before I can join in and sing the chorus, we arrive at our destination.
