The Judas Strain - James Rollins [87]
“We’re…yes…Gray—”
The phone was snatched from her, and Nasser came back on the line. “I will be leaving them in the care of my colleague Annishen. I believe you met her at the safe house in D.C.”
Gray pictured the Eurasian woman with the dyed crew cut and tattoos.
Asian Anni.
Nasser continued, “I will be joining you in Turkey. At nineteen hundred hours. You will not move from where you are.”
Gray checked his watch. A little over nine hours.
“I have men closing on your position in the Sultanahmet as we speak. Do not try to be clever. We’ve been tracking Monsignor Verona’s phone since he left Italy.”
Vigor’s sudden departure from the Vatican must have triggered a red flag. Gray wanted to be angry at the monsignor for being so careless, but he knew Vigor did not operate at the same level of paranoia as he did. Few people did. And at the moment, Gray had no room for recriminations, too consumed by his own guilt.
He had left his parents alone.
“I would like to speak with Seichan now,” Nasser said.
Gray waved Seichan over. She went to take the phone, but Gray kept hold of it. He motioned for her to come close so he could listen in on their conversation.
With heads together, ear to ear, Seichan spoke into the phone. “Amen,” she said, using Nasser’s first name, “what do you want?”
“You bitch…for this betrayal, I’ll make you suffer in ways—”
“Yes, and you’ll beat my dog and kick my cat. I get it, sweetheart.” Seichan sighed, her breath tickling Gray’s neck. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to say our good-byes here. I’ll be long gone by the time you arrive.”
Gray tensed and turned slightly to glance at her. She held up a silencing palm and shook her head. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“My men already have you surrounded,” Nasser warned. “You try to leave, and they’ll put a bullet between your cold eyes.”
“Whatever. As soon as this little conversation is over, I’m heading out of this damn church.” Seichan glanced significantly at Gray and pointed over the rooftop wall toward Hagia Sophia.
She continued on the phone, “We weren’t making any progress here at Hagia Sophia anyway. Too many damned murals. It’s all yours, baby. You’ll never see me again.”
Gray frowned. She was plainly lying. But why?
Nasser paused, then spoke, fury thawing his icy manner. “You’ll not make it ten steps! I’ve got all the exits to Hagia Sophia covered.”
Seichan rolled her eyes at Gray, indicating her ploy.
“I’m sure you do, Amen,” Seichan finished. “Ciao, baby. Kiss, kiss.”
Seichan stepped back from the phone and held a finger toward Gray, warning him to be careful.
Gray played along. “What did you just tell her?” he snapped into the phone. “Seichan just grabbed her gun and took off out of the church. What the hell are you and that bitch up to?”
Seichan nodded with a tight smile.
Listening to Nasser swear sharply, Gray calculated in his head, struggling to catch up with Seichan’s subterfuge, pushing back his guilt and anger. It would not serve him, or his parents.
He met Seichan’s eyes. The Guild might have traced Vigor’s call, but their triangulation was not perfect. That’s what Seichan had tested with her claim of being at Hagia Sophia. The Guild knew they were somewhere in the old district in Istanbul, but not exactly where.
At least not yet.
Gray stared across a neighboring park toward the massive hulk of Hagia Sophia, with its giant flat dome, surrounded by four spiked minarets.
“What are you doing at Hagia Sophia?” Nasser asked.
Gray judged how much to say. He had to be convincing, and the best way to do that was with a bit of the truth. “We’re looking for Marco Polo’s key. Monsignor Verona decoded the script at the Vatican. It led here.”
“So Seichan told you what we’re seeking.” Another curse. “For letting her escape, I’ll have to teach you how serious we are.”
Gray read the intent to harm his parents.
“Seichan is no longer important,” Gray cut in sharply, protecting his parents the only way he could. “I have what you’re seeking. The angelic code off the Egyptian obelisk. I still