The Last Odyssey (Sigma Force #15) - James Rollins Page 0,85

and set about fastening tie-downs to the helicopter’s skids. As they worked, a side door opened in the aircraft.

Nehir marched Elena closer, then made her halt. The woman leaned to her ear. “With your friend gone, we found two to replace him. To keep you motivated. A pair that I believe will be far more helpful than the other.”

From the aircraft’s cabin, two older men were led out in shackles. One looked like a frail monk with a fringe of gray hair. The other had a bandage binding a thick cotton wad to one ear. Even from yards away, Elena saw it was soaked in blood.

The pair were marched past her.

She twisted with a frown.

Who are—?

Nehir suddenly dropped to one knee next to Elena, drawing back her attention. Kadir did the same on the other side.

A tall, hard-faced man in a trim tan suit climbed down from the helicopter. His hair was light gray, his eyes as dark as coal pits, his complexion a dark honey.

Nehir bowed her head. “Mūsā, we welcome you.”

The man showed no reaction, only a barest nod of acknowledgment. From the title and obeisance shown him, Elena realized he must be their group’s leader.

But there was one last passenger aboard. A dark-suited figure hopped deftly to the deck, ducking under the spin of the rotors. Once clear, he straightened, combing fingers through the slight curl of his dark blond hair. He wore a smile of greeting as he stepped forward.

Then he stopped, studied Elena up and down with a frown, and turned to Mūsā. “Ambassador Firat, are the chains really necessary?”

Struck dumb, Elena struggled to make sense—of his presence, of her world upended. She finally eked out one word.

“Daddy?”

Fourth

The Pillars of Hercules

Tardy with age were I and my companions, when we came to the strait pass, that Hercules ordain’d were boundaries not to be overstepped by man.

—THE WARNING BY ULYSSES/ODYSSEUS TO VIRGIL IN DANTE’S INFERNO

24

June 25, 10:54 A.M. CEST

Palma, Spain

Gray stood naked on the suite’s private balcony overlooking the bow of the Seven Seas Explorer. The bright morning sun blazed down upon the Mediterranean, polishing it to an unreal sapphire blue. Warm salty breezes washed over him, drying his skin after soaking in the outdoor spa. Down below, flags at the tip of the bow snapped and flapped.

Ahead, the coastline of Majorca grew larger before him as the cruise liner neared its next destination.

From one island to another . . .

Gray felt like Odysseus, tossed about by the gods with little control over his fate. Of course, Homer’s hero had not sailed the seas in such style as this. Gray stood outside the master bedroom of the Explorer’s Regent Suite, which stretched the beam of the ship’s forward deck on the fourteenth floor. On the opposite side, a second bedroom connected to a common space, which consisted of a dining room and lounge, centered around an onyx bar.

The suite had been a small perk for breaking radio silence.

After stowing away aboard the ship last night, Gray had returned the battery to his encrypted satellite phone and called Sigma command. He saw little reason not to. Going dark for the prior two days had done his team little good. They’d still been hunted down and ambushed.

His grip tightened on the balcony rail.

Ahead, the Majorcan city of Palma—the capital of the Balearic Islands, an archipelago belonging to Spain—stretched across the bay. Even from this distance, the city’s most prominent landmark stood out. The Gothic façade and spires of the Cathedral of Santa Maria towered over the tumble of the sunbaked city.

Its massive presence reminded him of all he’d lost. The whereabouts and fate of Monsignor Roe and Rabbi Fine remained unknown. The body of Major Bossard, who had served two popes, lay in a morgue.

Gray had updated Painter on all that had happened, trusting the director to shut down Cagliari and scour the city for the two missing clerics. But Painter had pulled other strings, too. At midnight, shortly after Gray’s call, the ship’s purser had approached their group at a poolside bar, carrying a set of keys on a tray. He took their party to deck fourteen—and opened double doors to the luxury two-bedroom suite.

Apparently, the steep price for this grand accommodation had kept it vacant.

No one in their group complained.

Exhausted, they had all collapsed, spreading out across the cabin.

The suite came equipped with cameras that kept watch on the hall. In addition, two of the ship’s security guards were posted outside the doors. Still, Gray rotated