wadded with cotton.
There was a quick catch to her breathing. Then: "What on earth are you doing there?"
"Lindros sent me here. I'm following up a lead he gave me. He thinks a man named Lemontov is funding Dujja. Edor Vladovich Lemontov. Criminal cartel-drugs, most likely. Does the name ring a bell?"
"No. But I'll check the CI database."
Briefly, she told him about the events at the Hotel Constitution. "The one true oddity is that a highly unusual accelerant was used-carbon disulfide. According to my friend, she's never encountered it before."
"What's it used in?"
"Mainly the manufacture of cellulose, carbon tet, all kinds of sulfur compounds. It's also used in soil fumigants, a flotation agent in mineral processing. In the past, it was a component of refrigerants and fire extinguishers. She said she thought it was used because it has a low flashpoint."
Bourne nodded as he stared at an oil tanker chugging in empty from Istanbul. "Turning it into an explosive."
"Very effective. Blew out the suite. A complete firestorm. We were lucky with the prosthesis, which was protected by the bathtub catch basin. Nothing else of value was left, not even enough of a body to ID."
"Fadi's luck seems to be going down the drain," Bourne said drily.
Soraya laughed. "The Lemontov lead interests me, because I thought of the old refrigerants and fire extinguishers that had been banned in the States, but probably not elsewhere, like Eastern Europe, Ukraine, Odessa."
"That's a thought worth following up on," Bourne said, breaking the connection.
Although it was after 1 AM, Martin Lindros was at his computer terminal entering information. CI was still in Code Mesa. There was a crisis on, all leaves canceled. Sleep was a luxury none of them could afford.
A soft knock on the door, then Soraya poked her head in, gave him a questioning look. He raised a beckoning hand, and she shut the door behind her. Taking a seat in front of the desk, she placed something on the desktop.
"What's this?" Lindros said.
"It's a prosthetic. A friend of mine-an arson expert with the Fire Investigation Unit-called me in." Soraya had previously filled him in on the events at the Hotel Constitution. "She found something in the Silvers' suite at the Constitution she couldn't explain. That. It's used in highly sophisticated disguises."
He picked up the prosthetic. "Yes. Jason showed me something like this once. It's meant to change your appearance."
Soraya nodded. "There's enough evidence to conclude that Jakob Silver was, in fact, Fadi, that his brother was another terrorist, that they were responsible for the fire."
"Wasn't there a body found in the suite? Wasn't it Silver's?"
"Yes, and no. It seems more than likely that the body was that of a Pakistani waiter. There never were a pair of Mr. Silvers."
"Ingenious," Lindros mused as he turned the prosthetic between his fingertips. "But not of much use to us now."
"On the contrary." Soraya took it back. "I'm going to see if I can find out who manufactured it."
Lindros was lost in thought for a moment.
"I talked to Bourne less than an hour ago," Soraya continued.
"Oh?"
"He wanted me to dig up whatever I can on a drug lord by the name of Edor Vladovich Lemontov."
Lindros set his elbows on his desk, steepled his fingers. This was a situation that could quickly spiral out of control if he let it. Keeping his voice neutral, he said, "And what have you discovered?"
"Nothing yet. I wanted to bring you up to date on the prosthetic first."
"You did well."
"Thanks, boss." She rose. "Now I've got hours of eyestrain ahead of me."
"Forget research. I couldn't find anything on this sonovabitch. Whoever he is, he's securely shielded. Just the sort Dujja would use as a money man." Lindros had already turned back to his computer screen. "I want you on the next plane to Odessa. I want you to back Bourne up."
Soraya was clearly surprised. "He won't like that."
"He's not required to," Lindros said shortly.
When Soraya reached for the prosthetic, Lindros swept it up in his hand. "I'll take care of this myself."
"Sir, if you don't mind my saying, you've got a lot on your plate as it is."
Lindros searched her face. "Soraya, I wanted to be the one to tell you this. We've had a mole inside Typhon." He could hear her sharply indrawn breath and was pleased. Opening a drawer, he spun across a thin dossier he'd prepared.
Soraya picked it up, flipped back the cover. As soon as she started reading, she felt hot tears distorting her vision. It was Tim