The Last Odyssey (Sigma Force #15) - James Rollins Page 0,87
offer guidance . . .”
They had reached a dead end.
Gray knew this, too. Even the bright sunlight could not dispel his growing gloom. As he stared down at the map, he again felt that sense of being lost at sea, with no compass to guide him safely home.
A knock drew all their eyes to the foyer, to the cabin door.
Someone else heard it, too.
12:10 P.M.
Oh, thank god . . .
A few minutes ago, Maria had thought she’d spotted a familiar large bulk climbing the gangway by the dock, but she couldn’t be sure. So she was already in motion before the second polite rap on the door. She burst from the balcony and rushed across the breadth of the suite, past the others in the lounge.
She headed straight to the door.
Gray called after her. “Check the security cam before—”
Don’t need to.
She knew who it was. With every step, she felt the pressure inside her easing, the weight on her shoulders growing lighter. Unable to stop herself, she grabbed the handle and yanked the door open.
Startled, the room steward at the threshold stepped back.
She shouldered past him and leaped at the guest next to him.
Joe dropped a large duffel bag and caught her in his arms with a loud oof.
She clung hard to him, trying to squeeze away her guilt. “I’m so sorry, Joe.”
“Sheesh, for what?”
She tried to answer, to explain about leading him astray back at Castel Gandolfo, for sending him off with any empty case. But she knew that wasn’t the true source of her remorse. She knew it in this moment, in his arms. Her shame and guilt rose from the doubts she had harbored, that she had let build—for him, maybe even for herself—about their relationship, about their future.
Fear of losing him had burned that all away.
Her love for him ached inside her.
I don’t ever want to lose you.
Unable to put this into words, she buried her face in his chest, inhaling his sweaty aroma, feeling the train-engine heat of his body. The arm around her was an iron strap.
How could I have ever doubted this?
Joe carried her inside before finally setting her down, somewhat roughly. She kept hold of his hand. His other palm rubbed his lower back, his expression pained.
“I’d carry you to the ends of the earth, babe. You know that. But maybe not right now. Not after someone tried to break my spine.”
“Sorry,” she said again lamely.
She stared up, noting his taped nose, the nostrils stuffed with cotton. She had heard all that he’d gone through, the tortures endured. And as much as she was beyond happy to have him back, his injuries tempered her jubilation, reminding her that Elena was still in the hands of those same people.
If she was even still alive.
This thought sobered her up.
Joe nodded as Gray carried the large duffel. He needed both arms to haul it over to the lounge. “Gifts from Painter,” Joe explained. “Found the bag waiting dockside. Hope it’s everything you asked for.”
Gray knelt down, unzipped it, and took a brief inventory. Maria spotted a stack of black polymer cases, the topmost stamped with SIG SAUER. There was also a stubby rifle of some sort, sitting atop boxes of ammunition.
Gray ignored the armaments and pulled out a ten-inch e-tablet. “For now, we’re going to leave the search for Dr. Cargill to Painter and Kat. They’re also following up Kowalski’s lead about that underground encampment where he and Elena had been held, somewhere near the Turkish coast.”
Gray stood up with the e-tablet and turned to the group. “As for us, we still don’t know who the enemy is, but we know what they’re after. The cruise ship will be overnighting here, so we have less than a day to figure out where to go next.” Gray turned to Joe. “To help with that, I want to hear every detail about what happened aboard that yacht, everything Dr. Cargill told you, or hinted at, or even muttered under her breath.”
Joe ignored him and stepped over to the coffee table. “You have one of these, too.” With his fists on his hips, he studied the map and astrolabe with a frown. “Where did you get it?”
Father Bailey explained about the Holy Scrinium, about Leonardo da Vinci.
Joe waved the history lesson aside. “Yeah, fine, but did you get it to work?”
“Well, no,” Bailey admitted.
Joe sighed in exasperation, unbuckled his belt, and dropped his trousers to his ankles. Luckily, he was wearing boxers. He reached to a thick bandage