The Bone Chamber

26

Sydney crouched behind the truck beside Griffin, holding the mirror out just far enough to view their surroundings without being seen. A few seconds later, she saw the two men who were shadowing them. “They’ve stopped at the end of the street,” she whispered. “Looking around, like they’re trying to figure out which way to go…Guy in the leather coat is pointing this way…They’re coming.” She waited until they were just a few feet away, then she raised her hand, signaling with her fingers, three…two…one.
Griffin stepped out, grabbed the guy’s leather jacket, pulled him back behind the truck. Sydney saw a glint of silver as Griffin held a knife to the man’s throat.
The other man took a hesitant step toward them.
Griffin shook his head. “Don’t move. Who are you and why are you following us?”
The man looked around him in both directions, before saying in heavily accented English, “We are simply messengers. You have nothing to fear from us. I—we work for Father Dumas.”
“And he works for God,” Griffin muttered, clearly not letting down his guard on the simple belief that God made Dumas any more trustworthy. “Search him,” he told Sydney.
She moved up behind the other man, patted him down. “He’s clean.”
“How about you?” Griffin asked the man he still had a tight grip on. “You carrying?”
“No.”
“And what would that be poking me in my gut?”
“Maybe just a small gun.” American, Sydney realized.
“Then you won’t mind if my associate removes it, for your safety.”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
Sydney pulled a not so small Beretta from his waistband, aimed the weapon at him.
Griffin stepped back, holding the knife at his side. “The gun tells me you don’t work for Dumas. Why are you watching us?”
The guy glanced at Sydney, and the gun she held. “Really, Special Agent Fitzpatrick. There’s no need for lethal weapons. I’m simply the messenger. If we wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”
She hid her surprise at hearing her name. “Then who was that shooting at us at the Gianicolo Hill yesterday?”
“An unfortunate misunderstanding from…some associates. We now have a strong interest in ensuring that everyone’s needs are met on this venture.”
“Needs?” Griffin asked. “What needs?”
“Let’s just say that you are very close to acquiring something that we want. And to guarantee its safe delivery into our hands, we intend to offer you something—or rather someone that you want.”
Griffin tensed. “I’m listening.”
“Bring us the map, we return your friend.”
“And how do I know my friend is alive?” Griffin asked, while Sydney was trying to figure out what the man was talking about. A map of what? Francesca’s map of the columbarium? No. That made little sense. Adami was after bioweapons, not ancient burial sites.
“If you’ll allow me to reach in my pocket,” the guy said, “I have a mobile phone for you to call.”
Sydney kept the gun trained on him. “Slowly,” she ordered.
He lifted his jacket so that they could see inside, then reached in and pulled out a thin cell phone. He held it up, saying, “First, the rules. In exchange for your friend, we require that the map be given directly to us. No copies or photographs of it allowed.” He glanced over at Francesca, who still waited by the stairs, adding, “Not even for academic purposes. And we require that you remain in contact via mobile phone. This mobile phone. Agreed?”
“As I said,” Griffin replied, “I’ll need assurance that my friend is alive.”
“Allow me to make the call.” The man punched in a number, waited a moment, then said, “Signore Griffin is here with me…Yes. It’s been explained.” He handed Griffin the phone.
Griffin held it to his ear, then “Tex? You’re okay?” He listened for a short time, then closed the cell phone. “I agree to your terms on one condition.” The guy said nothing, and Griffin continued. “Call off your trigger-happy watchdogs. If anything happens to any one of us, the deal is off.”
“Of course. There is one other stipulation. You have twenty-four hours. You will use this phone to communicate. The number is programmed in. If we lose communication with you, or you go beyond the allotted time, we will assume you have broken your end of the agreement. Your friend will die, and I can no longer guarantee your safety.”
“I can’t guarantee we’ll find it in that time.”
“That would be most unfortunate.” He looked at his watch. “It is a little after four P.M., and so, being in a generous mood, we shall expect the map by five P.M. tomorrow.”
Griffin dropped the phone in his pocket. “Anything else?”
“My gun.”
Griffin glanced over at Sydney. “You want to give him back his gun?”
“Not really.”
“Tell you what,” Griffin said. “When all this is over, we’ll turn it into the carabinieri for safekeeping. You can pick it up from them.”
Sydney smiled at the dark look from the man as he said, “You know they won’t return it to me.”
“A shame,” Griffin said. “Now get the hell out of here so we can find that damned map.”
The two men wasted no time in leaving, and Sydney kept the weapon trained on them as she watched them go. “Adami’s men?”
“That remains to be seen.” He stormed across the street, then dragged the professor up by her arm, demanding, “What map is he talking about?”