Manzak came to Pamplona anyway. For some reason he wanted to go
out of house
(i.e., use non- CIA personnel) to track down Boyd and ultimately settled on two former MANIACs to do the job. Payne wasn’t sure why that was, but he had some theories. Perhaps Manzak was bucking for a promotion and felt the best way to get one was by catching a wanted man on his own? Or maybe Boyd had done something to Manzak long ago, and this was Manzak’s way of getting some personal revenge? Or maybe, just maybe, it was something more obvious. Maybe Manzak wanted to get his hands on Boyd so he could sell his stolen treasures and pocket the money for himself?
In the end Payne and Jones weren’t sure what Manzak’s motivation was. All they knew was he had the power to get them out of jail ASAP , and that’s all they wanted. Besides, they figured once they got back into circulation they’d have plenty of time to investigate Manzak, Boyd, and everything else that seemed shady to them. Which was just about everything.
After accepting Manzak’s offer, Payne and Jones collected their things before being herded into a helicopter and whisked away. During their flight Manzak briefed them on the mission and how to contact him once they had located Boyd. Instead of using a phone, they were to activate a high-tech beacon that looked similar to a garage door opener. Then they were to sit patiently and wait for the cavalry to arrive. Well, not the
real
cavalry. Their mission was supposed to be top secret, so the last thing they needed was for a bunch of horses to come galloping into town, shitting all over the place, while being led by a bugle-playing cowboy. Something like that might work during a gay pride parade but not on a CIA operation.
Anyway, their chopper touched down late Monday night in Bordeaux, France, where they were told to spend the night. Manzak gave them their travel itineraries for an early morning flight, then left with Buckner to save the world or something. Once alone, Payne and Jones started working the phones – first calling the Pentagon to check on Manzak and Buckner’s credentials, then calling Dover University to set up an appointment with Dr Boyd’s assistant.
England is smaller than the state of Alabama yet has three of the finest universities in Europe: Oxford, Cambridge, and Dover. The first two are the most well-known and for good reason. Oxford is the oldest English-speaking university in the world and boasts a roster of alumni that includes John Donne, William Penn, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Bill Clinton. Cambridge came into existence more than one hundred years later and was the school of choice for John Milton, Prince Albert, Isaac Newton, John Harvard, and Charles Darwin.
Yet in recent years many of the top students have shied away from the big two, partially because their admission policies seem to place more emphasis on a candidate’s lineage than his academic achievements. That, however, is not the case at Dover. Founded in 1569 by Elizabeth I, it had the guts to reject one of her ancestors because he failed to meet their scholastic standards. That episode, more than anything else, catapulted Dover’s status to the top of the academic heap, making it the school of choice among the elite families in Great Britain.
At least that’s what Jones read on the Internet while collecting intel for their trip.
The next morning they flew to London, took the express train to Victoria Station, then picked up a local line into Dover. From there it was a short walk to campus, where they had a late afternoon meeting with Dr Boyd’s assistant, Rupert Pencester, a chipper young bloke who was bound to offer them a cup of tea even though it was seventy-five degrees and sunny. To prepare for their meeting, Payne and Jones decided to show up early and conduct some research on their own.
The archaeology department was part of Kinsey College, one of thirty-three colleges that made up Dover University. It sat in the northwest
out of house
(i.e., use non- CIA personnel) to track down Boyd and ultimately settled on two former MANIACs to do the job. Payne wasn’t sure why that was, but he had some theories. Perhaps Manzak was bucking for a promotion and felt the best way to get one was by catching a wanted man on his own? Or maybe Boyd had done something to Manzak long ago, and this was Manzak’s way of getting some personal revenge? Or maybe, just maybe, it was something more obvious. Maybe Manzak wanted to get his hands on Boyd so he could sell his stolen treasures and pocket the money for himself?
In the end Payne and Jones weren’t sure what Manzak’s motivation was. All they knew was he had the power to get them out of jail ASAP , and that’s all they wanted. Besides, they figured once they got back into circulation they’d have plenty of time to investigate Manzak, Boyd, and everything else that seemed shady to them. Which was just about everything.
After accepting Manzak’s offer, Payne and Jones collected their things before being herded into a helicopter and whisked away. During their flight Manzak briefed them on the mission and how to contact him once they had located Boyd. Instead of using a phone, they were to activate a high-tech beacon that looked similar to a garage door opener. Then they were to sit patiently and wait for the cavalry to arrive. Well, not the
real
cavalry. Their mission was supposed to be top secret, so the last thing they needed was for a bunch of horses to come galloping into town, shitting all over the place, while being led by a bugle-playing cowboy. Something like that might work during a gay pride parade but not on a CIA operation.
Anyway, their chopper touched down late Monday night in Bordeaux, France, where they were told to spend the night. Manzak gave them their travel itineraries for an early morning flight, then left with Buckner to save the world or something. Once alone, Payne and Jones started working the phones – first calling the Pentagon to check on Manzak and Buckner’s credentials, then calling Dover University to set up an appointment with Dr Boyd’s assistant.
England is smaller than the state of Alabama yet has three of the finest universities in Europe: Oxford, Cambridge, and Dover. The first two are the most well-known and for good reason. Oxford is the oldest English-speaking university in the world and boasts a roster of alumni that includes John Donne, William Penn, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Bill Clinton. Cambridge came into existence more than one hundred years later and was the school of choice for John Milton, Prince Albert, Isaac Newton, John Harvard, and Charles Darwin.
Yet in recent years many of the top students have shied away from the big two, partially because their admission policies seem to place more emphasis on a candidate’s lineage than his academic achievements. That, however, is not the case at Dover. Founded in 1569 by Elizabeth I, it had the guts to reject one of her ancestors because he failed to meet their scholastic standards. That episode, more than anything else, catapulted Dover’s status to the top of the academic heap, making it the school of choice among the elite families in Great Britain.
At least that’s what Jones read on the Internet while collecting intel for their trip.
The next morning they flew to London, took the express train to Victoria Station, then picked up a local line into Dover. From there it was a short walk to campus, where they had a late afternoon meeting with Dr Boyd’s assistant, Rupert Pencester, a chipper young bloke who was bound to offer them a cup of tea even though it was seventy-five degrees and sunny. To prepare for their meeting, Payne and Jones decided to show up early and conduct some research on their own.
The archaeology department was part of Kinsey College, one of thirty-three colleges that made up Dover University. It sat in the northwest
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