The Oracle Code

25



Kandahar

Kandahar Province

Afghanistan

February 15, 2013

Lourds climbed out of the compact SUV Layla had arranged for him when he’d left the small bed and breakfast where he and Anna had spent the night. His back and knees ached from the exertion of the day before and from the cramped position they’d been in during the past five and a half hours of driving.

Anna got out on the other side of the vehicle and looked around. They’d parked just outside of Kandahar at a roadside market that sold food and clothing.

The small, wooden building looked lonely and forgotten beside the highway. Inside, a man stood behind a short counter and peered out through the window. He was probably hoping for some kind of business, or at least a chance to practice his English on tourists.

Lourds checked his watch again. It was 2:43 p.m. He glanced back at the highway as a black sedan pulled off the road, paused for a moment as if checking directions, then turned and came back up the highway.

Anna shaded her eyes with a hand. “That’s not your lady friend, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.” Lourds reached for the door and yanked it open. “Get in.” He slid behind the steering wheel as the black sedan raced toward them.

***



In the black sedan, Linko cursed his luck. The phone communications between Lourds and Layla Teneen had mentioned a designated mile marker. This wasn’t it. The professor had stopped more than a mile too early. In fact, if the American hadn’t gotten out of his car, Linko would have missed him entirely. Possibly the SUV’s GPS tracking device was off.

Earlier, the colonel had tried to locate the American as he cruised along the highway, but there had been too many suspect vehicles, and he’d never spotted the man. He had alternately sped up and slowed down, trying to estimate when Lourds had departed Herat and how fast he would go. That had proven impossible.

All Linko had to go on was the mile marker and the time of the meeting. He’d arrived early and taken to traveling the last mile or so over and over in an effort to make the connection.

To make matters worse, the ANA had patrols out on the highway that had made zooming around any particular stretch of road very risky. Linko was pretty certain his papers would still hold up even after all the excitement at the dig site, but Anna Cherkshan’s stories in The Moscow Times concerning the attack on the dig site had mentioned his cover name. The fact that the stories had been picked up by several news agencies had been even worse luck.

But now he had his quarry. Linko reached under his jacket and freed his pistol. He glanced at the three men with him, all mercenary muscle for hire that the FSB had contracted out for him.

“Are you ready?”

They all confirmed their readiness and brandished weapons in their hands. He wished now that he had gotten another car team, but he was convinced that he had more than enough men to take care of a single college professor.

One of the men in the back suddenly squawked in alarm. “Look out!”

Glancing to his left, Linko saw a Jeep with a large push bar welded onto the front closing fast. He cut the wheel hard, trying to dodge the military vehicle.

***



Tensely, Layla Teneen sat in the rear seat of the sedan where Captain Fitrat had put her. He was still with her as her personal bodyguard because she’d asked him to stay. He’d agreed to the assignment, and the details had been worked out.

Fitrat spoke quickly into the mic affixed to his sun visor giving orders to his men in the two Jeeps that rode before and after their sedan.

Layla’s heart was in her stomach. She’d seen Lourds briefly when he’d been standing outside the rented SUV and had tried to call him when she saw the sedan turn around and speed back in his direction.

The black sedan bore down on the small SUV, and Layla wished she had gotten a larger car for Lourds. The one he was in now looked like it was a tin can about to be crushed. “Captain Fitrat, you must—”

Before she could finish, one of the Jeeps rammed the black sedan and knocked it off track, shoving the vehicle back until it banged against the corner of the small store at the side of the road.

Fitrat spoke calmly from the front passenger seat. “Call Professor Lourds. Tell him to head into Kandahar. Tell him not to stop until he gets there. We will be right behind him.”

Layla took out her phone and dialed. Pick up, Thomas. Pick up, pick up...

***



Lourds pulled back onto the highway and stared at the Jeep and the sedan. He’d been stunned by both events and was now moving on autopilot.

“Who were they?” Anna craned over the seat, looking through the back windshield.

“I would venture to say they’re either with Yakov or some other group coming after the scrolls.” Lourds had been thankful that Anna had held back that part of the story concerning Boris’s death. The last thing they needed was a lot of treasure hunters hot on their heels as well.

She’d agreed to the constraint in exchange for an exclusive to the story, which he had gladly given. The details could all be worked out later.

His phone rang in his pocket. He plucked it out and watched as a newer sedan wheeled around and trailed after him. His stomach knotted into a ball of worry.

Layla’s image showed on the phone screen.

Lourds answered immediately. “Layla, you need to stay away. The man—or men—who have been looking for me have—”

“We’re here, Thomas. Captain Fitrat and me and several of his men. They’re the ones that kept the black sedan away from you. We’re in the car behind you.”

Glancing in his rearview mirror, Lourds watched as the car behind him flashed its lights.

“Your girlfriend?” Anna continued to stare out the rear window.

“Yes.”

“I suppose these are her friends.”

“From the ANP, yes.”

Anna shot him a smile. “I like her already.”

“A lot of people do.”

“Not, I would be willing to wager, Yakov and his thugs.”

Layla kept talking over the phone. “I’m arranging for a place for us to meet, Thomas. Keep driving into the city.”

Lourds pressed his foot down harder onto the accelerator. Getting the attention of a police officer now didn’t seem so horrible.

***



Cursing, dazed, Linko reached between the seats for the Uzi machine pistol he’d stored there. The Jeep still drove his car forward, pushing it sideways. He rolled the window down, shoved the Uzi outside the vehicle, and pulled the trigger. Nine-millimeter bullets spattered across the Jeep’s windshield, pitting it and spreading fissures that twisted through the glass.

Immediately, the driver stopped pushing and backed away, trying to get out of the line of fire. Blood stained the inside of the Jeep’s windshield, and Linko knew at least one of the men up front had been hit.

Shifting his aim, Linko sprayed more bullets into the Jeep’s front tires. The rubber shredded under the impact, and the vehicle went out of control as the bare rims dug into the ground.

The mercenaries in Linko’s car added their fire to his, and the men inside the Jeep took cover. A second Jeep raced in to the aid of the first, and the men in that vehicle unlimbered their weapons and opened fire.

Having no choice, Linko abandoned the attempt to intercept Lourds. He cursed the man and the fact that he seemed to be so well connected that the ANP itself watched over him. Juking and weaving, Linko guided the bullet-riddled car back onto the highway and accelerated away from Kandahar.