I thank you for saving my ass.”
“I got blood on my new white suit you know. From your chin.”
“I did not know that. Thanks. Really. I would have been dead without you.”
I thought I saw her smile. Not a lot, just a small curl of her full lower lip.
“Stop groveling,” she said. “This is finished now. My commanding officer has given the new mission priority. Come.”
W E STROLLED AROUND the side of the safe house to find a Honda Transalp all-terrain motorcycle. I couldn’t say I recognized it from the night before, but I did recognize my backpack strapped to the rear rack. Given my condition, I would have been skeptical that I could have hung on in my semiconscious state if I hadn’t experienced a similar thing before.
I’d gone on a motorcycle trip with my father when I was twelve. We’d covered thirteen hundred miles on a Harley Speedster from Seattle to the Grand Canyon, and I had, believe it or not, fallen asleep many times on the back of the bike. I guess the rumble of the machine put me into some kind of road-induced trance. I’d wake to feel my rear end slipping down over the back fender, at which point I’d grasped my father more firmly around the waist, stood on the pegs, and pulled myself back up. Not the safest way to travel, but I knew it could be done and, hence, I had little doubt that I had done it again, especially because I was beginning to remember parts of the ride in fits and starts.
I checked out the bike. It was a 700cc European model. An on-road, off-road beast that might not win a speed contest against a Ducati, but would dance circles around it in the dirt.
“How far?” I asked.
“How far what?”
“How far did you drive us?”
“Far. Over five hundred kilometers. I had to be careful. You were, what do you say? Passed out. We are now in Geyikli. This is where we begin our search.”
“Search?” I probed.
“Please. Don’t bullshit me.”
Meryem reached into her handbag and pulled out Tesla’s journal.
“I read your book last night. I know everything about you, Mr. Raptor.”
Chapter 20
I SMILED AT Meryem. Clearly she had done her due diligence.
“So what else do you know about me?” I asked.
“You like your iPhone. You don’t carry many clean clothes. Your allegiances are complicated.”
I thought about it. Now was as good a time as any to press the issue. If she was going to find me out, I preferred she do it now, while I stood a fighting chance.
“Am I supposed to know what you mean by that?”
She shrugged.
“Please. Everybody’s allegiances are complicated. You would not have contacted us if my government’s goals were not aligned with your, how shall we say it, personal mission? Together we shall find what you seek.”
“And what is it you think I seek?” I said.
“The same as everyone. Love, wealth, happiness, and perhaps this…” she said.
Meryem took out her smartphone and flashed a picture at me. It was the same faded, color photograph that Crust had shown me in the surveillance van. The one with the metal tower against a bleak backdrop.
“Walk with me,” I said.
W E WALKED BECAUSE I wanted to control the environment. I didn’t know who else was at the safe house, but depending on the turn of the conversation, I liked my chances out in the open better than I did back there. Besides, it was hell of a nice day.
“I didn’t have a copy of that photo with me. Where did you get it?” I asked.
“MIT had been looking for the Tesla Device for a long time. Longer than your CIA. Longer than even your Green Dragons,” Meryem said.
“So what do you know about it?” I asked.
“The photographic image is the Tesla Device. Circa 1954.”
As we strolled through the olive grove, I was beginning to form a picture of Jean-Marc’s contact with Meryem in my mind. I didn’t know what they had shared, but I thought we had been correct in assuming the reason for the meet was to establish a working
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