The Judas Strain - James Rollins [116]
“How long?”
“Three hours. By private jet and seaplane. I know a man.”
Gray checked his watch. That would leave them only two hours to find the last key and use it and the others to unlock the obelisk’s riddle. His heart began beating harder again. The excitement had stemmed his fear for his parents. But now…
He held out his hand to Seichan. “I need your cell phone.”
“To call Sigma command?”
“I have to update them on what’s happened.”
Gray read her expression. She knew he was sidestepping the real reason. Still, she gave him her phone.
He sat back. In another few moments, he had Director Crowe on the line. He did update Painter on all the recent events, from the discovery of the second key through their escape.
“So it was the Vatican that had been infiltrated by a Guild mole,” Painter said, his words dropping in and out a bit. “But, Gray, I don’t think there’s much I can do for you at the island. It’s Iranian territory. Especially in such a short span. Not without alerting intelligence agencies throughout the Middle East.”
“I don’t want you to intervene,” Gray said. “Just…please…my parents…”
“I know, Gray…I get it. We’ll find them.”
Despite the promise, Gray heard the hesitation in the director’s voice, the unspoken words.
If your parents are still alive.
8:02 A.M.
Arlington, Virginia
THEY WERE BEING moved again.
Harriet balanced a glass of water against her husband’s lips. Dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, he was tied to a chair. “Jack, you need to drink. Swallow.”
He fought.
“Get that pill down,” the woman barked, “or I’ll shove it up his ass.”
Harriet’s hands shook. “Please, Jack. Drink.”
Annishen was losing patience. The woman, dressed in black leather, had taken a call a few minutes ago and had called in the other guards, even those on the street. Harriet had been dragged out of the old walk-in freezer where she had been locked up all night. It was a frightening place. A single bare bulb shone upon a double row of meat hooks, hung along tracks in the ceiling. Fresh bloodstains had streaked the floor, only haphazardly washed toward the freezer’s center drain.
Then the call.
Harriet had been hauled out to attend her husband. Jack had been kept apart from her. They wouldn’t let her stay with him. She had spent the entire night fearing for his life. He had been barely conscious after being struck by the Taser in the hotel room. She was horrified to find him bound and gagged in the chair, but he seemed otherwise unharmed.
He had thrashed against his ropes when he first saw her again. But he didn’t really recognize her, not fully. He remained in a disassociative state, brought on by all the stress, the near electrocution, waking bound and gagged.
“Forget it,” Annishen finally said, grabbing Harriet’s shoulder. “The pills you gave him earlier didn’t do anything.”
“He was already agitated,” she said, begging. “It takes time…and consistency of dosage. He needs this pill.”
Annishen waved to her. “One more try.”
Harriet leaned against her husband’s cheek, holding his head with one hand, the glass in the other. He jerked back, but she held tight. “Jack, I love you. Please drink. For me.”
She dribbled water over his mouth. His lips finally parted, an animal reflex. He must be thirsty. He finally drank, gulping the offered water. It even seemed to calm him. He sagged in his bonds.
Harriet sighed in relief.
“Did he take it?” Annishen asked.
“It should calm him in about an hour.”
“We don’t have an hour.”
“I understand…but…”
Harriet knew someone must be looking for them. The longer they stayed in one place, the greater the chance they might be tracked. The more moves, the trail would grow colder.
“Get him up!” Annishen said.
The woman grabbed Harriet by the scruff of her shirt collar and hauled her to her feet. She was strong. She shoved Harriet toward the back exit. Her goons untied Jack. Her husband was slung between the two gorilla-size men, Armenian, heavy eyebrows. One held a pistol in a jacket pocket, against her husband’s back.
Annishen gripped Harriet’s elbow.
Jack howled as