The Stone of Archimedes (11 page)

Sara Halsey Jones seemed to wander aimlessly about the small terminal, as if looking for something, her eyes scanning signs. This was the perfect opening for Jake. He simply walked up to her and asked, “May I help you find something, ma'am?” He threw in a slight Texas accent.

She startled at first and then said, “No, thank you. You're an American?”

“Guilty.”

“I didn't see you on the ferry,” she said.

“There were a lot of passengers.”

“I would have remembered you.” She took a slight step away from him.

“Sara. My name is Jake. I was hired by your brother to find you.”

She walked away from him and he quickly caught up, grasping her arm. “Let me go,” she said loudly. “I don't have a brother.”

Jake loosened his grip slightly but still maintained control. “Listen to me very carefully. Your brother is Senator James Halsey. You are Sara Halsey Jones, professor of history from Rice University in Houston. You just came from Malta, where you spoke with another history professor. That man is dead.” He put great emphasis on that last word.

“He's dead? Why?” A tear streaked down her cheek from her right eye.

“Because there are men who either want you dead or want you for some other reason. The same men who have been after you in Athens, Rome, Venice and Istanbul.”

Sara wiped away her tear but now the waterworks came from both eyes as she sniffled and almost lost her breath. She took deep intakes of air. “I don't understand,” she finally forced out.

Jake glanced at Elisa, who pulled out a tissue from her purse as if offering it up from across the room. He took the hint and found a tissue in his jacket pocket and handed it to Sara, who accepted it and dabbed her eyes.

Jake said, “Why are these men after you?”

She seemed to settle down somewhat. “I honestly don't know. What was your name again?”

“Jake. Jake Adams.”

“Another man came to me and told me the same thing,” Sara said. “That he had been hired by my brother. But then he went away.”

“In Rome?”

She shook her head. “In Athens.”

He didn't want to frighten her any more than he had to, but she needed to know the truth. “Your brother sent two men and both are now missing. Could this have something to do with your family money?”

Sara shook her head emphatically. “I have nothing to do with that. I'm simply a college professor. By the way, I also teach mathematics.”

He did know that. “Could it have something to do with your research?”

Shaking her head, she said, “How could it? I'm just researching for a book I plan to write.”

Time to bring it on home. “It's most likely something to do with your research,” he postulated. “Something you looked into must have aroused someone's interest. Did you tell the professor in Malta where you were going next?”

“Not really. He just knew Sicily, since he's the one who gave me my next direction.”

“He recommended Catania?”

“Among others.”

She was holding back on him. That was obvious, and Jake didn't blame her for not trusting him. “Well I was hired to find you. I told your brother's people that I wouldn't drag you back to Texas unless you wanted me to escort you there.”

“Can't you just tell him you found me and I'm fine?”

“That would be a lie, Sara.”

“But I am fine right now.”

“I won't split the baby like that.”

“Wow, a Biblical reference. Are you trying to impress me?”

“Now that I've found you, I feel obligated to keep you alive.”

“That's very noble, Mister Adams. . .”

“Jake.”

“Right, Jake. But I don't need a babysitter.”

“I had to shoot a man in Malta,” Jake explained. “A man who had just tortured the professor by binding him, burning his skin with cigarettes, and then finally strangling him with his own guitar string. Then, on our flight here in a private plane, the rest of the men tried to shoot us out of the sky. We barely escaped.”

“We?” She glanced around. “You're not alone?”

“I've had some help along the way.” Deflection might be the better way to go right now, he thought. “Your brother has gotten the State Department involved. If I don't contact his people soon, he's likely to send the Royal Canadian Mounted Police after you. Now, are you going to continue this quest of yours? Or would you rather stay alive?”

The professor sobbed again, as if this was the first time someone had actually yelled at her. Perhaps he'd come off too harsh.

“What do you want me to do? I still have research. Important research.”

“With this Polybius fellow?”

Her eyes widened. “What do you know of Polybius?”

“Not a damn thing,” Jake said truthfully. They stood there at an impasse for a moment, neither wanting to continue. Finally Jake looked around the room, which was clearing out and making it easier for them to stand out. “What do you want to do, Sara?”

“Finish my work.”

Damn it. This whole time, from Tunis to Sicily to Rome to Malta and back to Sicily, Jake had not really thought about what he would do once he found Sara. He had just been glad to get out of that Tunisian prison. But now he had a dilemma. Stick with her and keep her safe or make sure she got on the next plane to Texas.

“How much longer do you need?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “Maybe a week. Two tops.”

Jake had a feeling his mission had just changed from finding an American professor in Europe to working as her body guard. Time for the sales pitch. “Let me help you. I was an Air Force officer before working with other agencies in our government. Since then I have run a private security consulting company here in Europe. I know the region. I promise I'll contact your brother and tell him you're all right, but I would like to stick with you. Would that work for you?”

A wave of relief seemed to flush through Sara's body, her shoulders going from tensed upward to their normal position. She simply nodded agreement.

“All right,” Jake said. “Then let's go to your next location. Where would that be?”

“Taormina.”

“A beautiful city,” he said.

“You've been there?”

“A number of times. We can pick up a train a few blocks from here.”

Demetri sat down onto the seat in the train a few blocks from the Catania airport. The four of them had barely gotten away from the airplane after losing Jake Adams and that woman, who somehow were able to land at the joint NATO base at Sigonella, forcing them to turn back and land at their intended destination at Catania.

They had spread out in groups of two on this train car, two in the front and two in the back. He sat across from Niko, who was still in some pain from having been shot in the buttocks on the plane. Although the bullet barely made it under the skin, with very little blood loss, Demetri understood the pain Niko must be in every time he sat down. Kyros, who had medical first aid training from the army, had pulled out the little 9mm round with a needle-nose pliers and patched him up with a first aid kit on the plane. No stitches required.

“How are you doing?” Demetri asked Niko as the train pulled away from the terminal.

“Much better.”

He would have to hold his man in check if they ever ran across Jake Adams again. Niko should have never opened fire on their airplane in the first place, and Demetri had seriously reprimanded the man for his actions. He just hoped word would never get out to Zendo. If they had simply followed Adams and the woman they probably would have landed at Catania's Fontanarossa Airport. He still wasn't sure how Adams knew where the American professor was going. How had he found out? Also, there were only two ways for her to get to Messina from Malta—airplane or ferry to Catania and then bus or train. They had no way of knowing how she would get there, but they would catch her there for sure. And he still had no idea what Petros Caras wanted with this American professor. He learned a long time ago not to ask questions like that. Sometimes knowing certain details got in the way of the mission. But at least he thought he got through to his men that the woman must not be hurt. She was no good dead or injured.

A few minutes later and the train pulled into the downtown terminal a few blocks from Catania's waterfront. Demetri watched the platform as the train slowed. He smiled and then ducked down when he noticed the man standing there with a backpack over his shoulders, a woman dressed completely in black at his side. It was Jake Adams and the professor, Sara Halsey Jones. If he believed in God, he would have thanked him at this very moment for making this happen. Now he tried to think about which of his men might be recognizable to Adams. That depended on his memory. They had all brushed past the man in Rome, and the man with Kyros, whatever his name was, had a close encounter with Adams on the ferry from Tunis to Trapani. No, they were probably all right. Once the train got going he would personally find out which car they were in, and then it would be clear sailing all the way to Messina. Just relax and enjoy the ride.

●

Jake got onto the train around the middle car. He liked to be able to have an escape in either direction if he needed to. His training was taking over his actions now. They took chairs against the back wall of their car, and he saw Elisa on the far end opposite side with a good view of him. Maybe it was time for him to tell Sara about his friend Elisa. Sara sat down against the window next to Jake. She was tired, he could tell, but she was still quite attractive. He wondered why she had not married. He understood not doing so with women in the Agency, especially for those on the covert side of the house. But one would think working at a university would have exposed Sara to a lot of eligible men. Maybe she went the other way.

He took out his phone and punched in Elisa's phone number from memory, sending her a text that read ‘Taormina.' He saw her pick up her phone and smile. Then he got this message back: ‘
Una bella città
.' Yes, it was.

Jake needed to contact the lawyer in Washington to let him know he'd found Sara Halsey Jones. He considered making a call, but thought it would be more discreet as either a text or an e-mail. He decided on the later. On his phone he typed in the e-mail address for Brock Winthrop and sent him a simple message with the basic facts.

Seconds later he got an e-mail acknowledgment from the lawyer saying that was wonderful. Then the lawyer told him that Sara's father was quite ill and had been sent back to Texas with only days to live. Her father was asking to see her before he died. He showed her the e-mail from Winthrop and she responded with a concerned look, but more curious than anything.

“You know this Brock Winthrop?” Jake asked her.

She laughed. “Yeah. The man has been trying to get me into bed since I first strapped on a training bra. He and my brother were friends in college, Yale Law. My brother Jim is fifteen years my senior and Brock has been sucking off the Halsey teat ever since. I don't know what my brother sees in the man. Brock is Jim's lawyer and advisor. He also handles my father's estate.”

“Is your father really sick?”

“He's eighty. My mother died a number of years ago. Dad was diagnosed with some kind of cancer two years ago. The doctors gave him a couple months back then. He's just ornery enough to hang on for two more years.”

“What did the lawyer mean when he said they sent your father back to Texas?”

“Jim wanted him close to him in Washington. Dad really didn't want to leave Texas, but he eventually agreed. He did stipulate that he wouldn't be caught dead anywhere near the capital. He wanted to die in Texas. So maybe he is getting worse. I talked to him just before I left for Europe and he sounded all right. But that was weeks ago.”

Jake considered this new information. “Do you want to head back to Texas? We could pick up a commuter flight to Rome and the next flight to the Lone Star state.”

Sara let those thoughts brew within her. Jake could see the calculation, like a mathematician doing calculus in her mind. “This might sound callous,” she said, “but ask how long they expect him to live.”

Pulling out his phone again, Jake typed in the request. A couple of minutes later and the lawyer indicated it could be days or a week. Buck Halsey was a stubborn man. He showed this to Sara.

“All right. We keep at it for a couple of days.”

He nodded and put his phone away. “Could you tell me what you're trying to discover here? It might help me find out why the Greeks are after you?”

“Greeks?” she asked, confused.

“Yeah, Greeks. That's who's after you.”

“Polybius was a Greek historian,” she said. “But he's just the conduit to my understanding. My real subject is the great mathematician Archimedes from Syracuse.”

Jake had visited Syracuse, or Siracusa as the Italians called it, many years ago with his ex-girlfriend Toni Contardo. They visited all of the Roman and Greek ruins. But at the time they were more interested in exploring the body of each other.

“So eventually we will end up in Siracusa,” Jake said.

“Right. But to use a football analogy, we're working our way down the field picking up yards until we're within striking distance of the end zone.”

“Football? Do the Owls even have a team?”

“Hey, football is like religion in Texas. Don't mess with our religion our football or our guns.”

Jake was beginning to like this woman. It wasn't a requirement of his job, but it was a nice perk. He caught the attention of Elisa as he got up, indicating to keep an eye on their new friend. “I need to head to the restroom,” he whispered to Sara. “Be right back.”

The WC was right behind in the car in front of theirs. He got there and saw it was occupied. As the door opened, Jake and the man coming out met with their eyes, with immediate recognition by both of them. The man tried to throw a right punch but his shoulder hit the side of the door frame.