The Last Odyssey (Sigma Force #15) - James Rollins Page 0,93

her misgivings about the Apocalypti, explaining the practical necessity of this confederation with the infidels, teaching her how using an enemy’s own resources to bring them low honored the Qur’an. Over time, she came to accept that the Apocalypti were more powerful together. Come Armageddon, all infidels would burn in a purifying fire. Only those of proper faith would emerge, made all the stronger by those flames, forged into an almighty sword to lead the righteous into a new world.

Until then . . .

We are stronger together.

As if hearing this—or perhaps moved by Allah—Senator Cargill expounded on this very idea to those seated at the table. His words reinforced what Mūsā had taught her, helping to douse the fire inside her. Or perhaps it was the looks of dismay around the table that softened her scowl.

“We are everywhere,” the senator explained. “We have loyal followers in religions all around the world. In governments. In militaries. In universities. And even thousands more who do not know they are us, who unwittingly support our cause. In fact, if you simply believe the world will soon come to an end and do nothing to stop it, you are one of us.”

The anguish in Elena Cargill’s eyes brought Nehir great joy.

The woman’s father continued: “Only those at the highest echelon of the Apocalypti have full knowledge of our global breadth. It is why you cannot move without us seeing you.” He reached and gripped his daughter’s hand. She pulled away, but he held tight. “For example, we know your friend Joseph Kowalski has joined his friends.”

Elena gasped.

“So, to rid you of any hope that help will come,” her father said, “I must teach you a hard lesson. From the Book of Ezekiel. Chapter thirty-three. Verse eleven.”

Nehir smiled, feeling the last embers inside her smother to a cold satisfaction.

The Catholic priest explained, quoting that passage, “‘I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked.’”

26

June 25, 2:22 P.M. CEST

Palma, Spain

Kowalski rolled his eyes and paced before the ruins of the golden map. “I don’t know how many times I can go over it. That’s everything I remember.” He pressed a palm to the sharp twinge in his lower spine. “And my back is killing me. I’d really like to try out that spa of yours.”

“Not yet,” Gray said as he and Father Bailey tried to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

Kowalski knew it was a lost cause.

The two men knelt on either side of the Da Vinci map, doing their best to fish out the last lapis lazuli shards from the innards of the map mechanism. Maria, Seichan, and Mac sat to one side, collecting the blue pieces, slowly reconstructing the expanse of the Mediterranean Sea on the coffee table. The group had spent the last ninety minutes examining the remains of the broken map, searching for any clue to where the device wanted them to go.

Bailey sighed. “Half the gears and mechanisms were knocked awry when that mainspring blew. Maybe with time and by consulting the old designs that Da Vinci worked from, we might be able to figure something out.”

“Doubtful,” Gray said. “Even if we had the time, I suspect the map was engineered to obscure its ultimate intent. According to what Kowalski told us about the journal found aboard the dhow, only Captain Hunayn had the tools necessary to make the map unlock its secrets.”

As Kowalski feared, Gray turned those icy eyes on him. “Tell us again everything you remember. Start from the beginning.”

Kowalski groaned. Not again. But he knew everyone was counting on him; even Maria looked at him, her face hopeful, giving him a small nod of encouragement. So he started from when he had first met Elena. That memory alone awakened the burn in his thigh from the branding iron.

“They were using me to force Elena to cooperate,” Kowalski started. He continued step by step, stopped often by Gray, who consulted his e-tablet to look up some reference that Elena had mentioned. There had been so very, very many.

He racked his brain for every detail, for every bit of conversation, but he harbored no hope that this line of inquiry would lead anywhere. Elena had certainly not figured out where they needed to go, so how could sharing what they’d talked about offer any clues?

“She was really obsessed with that Strabo guy’s book, Geographica. It was huge, over two thousand pages. She read mostly in silence. If she learned anything more from it, she kept it to herself.” He