The Last Odyssey (Sigma Force #15) - James Rollins Page 0,67

outward appearance. This tired old priest was just as brilliant.

Seichan waved at the museum. “That’s all fine and good, but who are we meeting here, and what did you mean about knowing our enemy if it wasn’t those who attacked us?”

Roe squinted at the sky. “It is getting hot already. Let’s find those answers inside. Where it’ll be much cooler.”

Gray swiped his sweaty brow, appreciating this suggestion.

Definitely a brilliant man.

10:22 A.M.

Seichan waited in the cool lobby of the museum. While she enjoyed the air-conditioning, she wondered what they were doing here. One foot would not stop tapping. She wanted to blame her impatience on nerves stretched taut by the adrenaline rush from yesterday’s attack, but she could not fool herself into believing that.

Before leaving the Italian mainland, with all their gear abandoned, she had been forced to buy a new breast pump, but in their haste to leave, she had to settle for a hand pump. In the privacy of the trawler’s cabin, Gray had assisted her, which was in no way erotic, even with his stimulation to help her. It was, in a word, humiliating.

Like milking a cow.

But her shame rose not out of pride. Gray had been kind and patient, even under the circumstances. His touch had been gentle, his words encouraging. Instead, her mortification came from knowing who she had been in the past. She had been honed into the sharpest dagger by her former masters. She could move silently, swiftly, believing herself in those moments to be more shadow than substance. In the heat of those moments, she sensed every fiber of muscle, every nerve ending in her skin.

And now what am I?

Even here, in the middle of a mission, her body rebelled, trying to force her back into a role she wasn’t sure she wanted to resume. It would not let her settle into herself, to become that shadow. Instead, the substance of herself refused to be ignored.

She shook her arms, trying to dispel the tension.

But deep down, she knew this wasn’t the real issue.

Unbidden, she pictured Jack’s mop of dark hair after a bath, still tangled with soapy bubbles. The sense memory swelled through her, of baby shampoo, of his milk breath. Though thousands of miles away, he was still with her, inescapable.

She closed her eyes.

She knew this was the true source of her nerve-jangling anxiety. Forced to go dark, she had been unable to call Kat, to check on Jack, to make sure he was doing well. She hadn’t expected it to choke her up so much.

Gray touched her arm. “Are you okay?”

She flinched but nodded.

“It looks like Monsignor Roe is heading back,” Gray said.

Across the lobby, the old priest pushed through the crowd, accompanied by another. The bespectacled man with salt-and-pepper gray hair looked to be in his sixties, wearing a white museum smock and a welcoming smile.

Monsignor Roe made a surprising introduction. “This is Rabbi Fine.”

The newcomer shook both their hands. “Please call me Howard. I think we can forgo any rabbinical formalities. Especially as Sebastian tells me you need to consult me on matters archaeological.” He motioned to the museum. “Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place.”

The monsignor smiled. “Howard and I studied together, back in our university days. We also worked a joint project to preserve the remains of the old Jewish catacomb in Rome.”

“Back when I was an archaeologist for the Israel Antiquities Authority. After that, we went our separate ways. Sebastian into service with the Vatican, and I into rabbinical studies. But we both remain lovers of history at heart. In fact, I oversee several dig sites here in Sardinia, of the local Nuragic tribes, a Bronze Age people that occupied this island for sixteen centuries, until they vanished.”

“Not only is Howard a rabbi,” Roe explained, “but he has degrees in archaeology and anthropology. So, I’ll let him guide this tour.”

Gray frowned. “What is he going to—?”

Howard turned and headed for a wide set of stairs. “If I understand what Sebastian wanted me to share, I think we should start on the second floor.”

As the rabbi set off, Roe whispered back to them. “I just told him about an ancient enemy that we wanted more information about. Don’t worry. I was discreet.”

Seichan shared a look with Gray.

That had better be true—for all their sakes.

Gray kept close to the monsignor. “What ancient enemy?”

Roe hung back long enough to say, “The ones mentioned in the old schematics that Da Vinci used to construct his gold map. The enemy