The Lucifer Code by Charles Brokaw Page B

course, sir.’ And that was the best thing Dawson liked about the vice-president: when it came to intelligence work, they thought along the same lines. ‘I’ll take care of it personally.’ He pressed the keys on the computer and the woman disappeared.

 
    CHAPTER
    5
     
     
    Catacombs
    Yesilkoy District
    Istanbul, Turkey
    16 March 2010
    L ourds struggled to wakefulness.
    Then he remembered the helicopter exploding overhead, the flaming pieces of it ringing as they slammed into the alley. And he remembered the hypodermic being thrust into his leg. Pain in his thigh suddenly increased.
    He forced his eyes open and didn’t think he’d succeeded because he still couldn’t see. Then he realized that he couldn’t see because he was somewhere dark. There was absolutely no light. He felt as though he’d been shrouded in black cotton.
    Shifting, he tried to sit up, then discovered he was in fact sitting. Not only that, but someone had tied him to a chair. The rope pulled tightly into his flesh. His kidneys also suddenly declared they were losing the war against containment.
    He cleared his throat and heard the sound echo.
    Sudden fear spiked through him when he realized that the echoes sounded muffled, like he was in some kind of cave or box. He cleared his throat again and listened more carefully this time. The echoes, short and repetitive, definitely indicated he was within an enclosed space. He held his fear at bay with difficulty. He wasn’t afraid of the dark—he had been in plenty of dark places before while working on transcribing hieroglyphics in Peruvian ruins. He wasn’t afraid of enclosed spaces—he had crawled around plenty of those while exploring digs and while dating a couple of aggressive spelunkers. However, he was afraid of what was going to be done to him by whoever had taken him. Stiff patches on his shirt told him he’d been at least unconscious long enough for the blood to dry. He felt more dried blood on his hands and face.
    He thought about just sitting there, hoping that whoever had taken him had forgotten about him. But his kidneys were screaming for relief and he thought he’d rather die with some dignity. That meant no wet pants.
    Of course, as soon as you see a gun or knife in someone’s hand, that’s subject to change. Lourds had never been one to fool himself about his personal bravery. He was brave neither by habit nor by choice.
    Quietly, he cleared his throat again, then called out politely, ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’
    Cleena MacKenna lounged against the wall of the catacombs where her latest employers had brought her. She wasn’t surprised to find the city was honeycombed with tunnels. Most port cities and older cities in this part of the world were. In the beginning, the builders had needed places to store water and dump refuse. Smuggling had also figured in the construction of tunnels in port cities. While growing up in Boston, she had explored several of those tunnels with other kids her age who had been into ‘urban archaeology’. They’d called themselves creepers and swore they were uncovering the lost past of the city. Actually, they had just been kids going places they weren’t supposed to go.
    At first, Cleena’s father had been angry with her when he’d found out where she was. Later, after she’d shown him some places they could use to hide the weapons he had bought, sold and traded, he hadn’t been as angry. He just hadn’t liked the idea of her crawling around dangerous places in the dark. Cleena had enjoyed it, had relished the excitement of going through those tunnels. It had been like entering another world.
    A dozen men occupied the stone room she sat in now. They sat on crates and kegs brought by earlier visitors to the catacombs. Heavy-duty battery-powered lanterns pushed away some of the darkness inside the room, but Cleena still felt it was like a scene from one of those silly horror movies her younger sister liked to watch.
    The men were passionate