The Venetian Betrayal

“She’s apparently consolidating her power,” Thorvaldsen said.

“She’s a fool,” Lyndsey said. “There’s so much more happening here. I could have had it all. The frickin’ golden rainbow. He offered it to me.”

“Vincenti?” she asked.

Lyndsey nodded.

“Don’t you get it?” Stephanie said. “Zovastina has those computers with the data. She has her viruses. And you even told her there’s only one antiagent and where they can be found. You’re useless to her.”

“But she does need me,” he spit out. “She knows.”

Her patience was wearing thin. “Knows what?”

“Those bacteria. They’re the cure for AIDS.”

EIGHTY-FIVE

VIKTOR HEARD ZOVASTINA’S DISTINCTIVE VOICE. HOW MANY times had she commanded him with the same brittle tone? He’d stayed near the exit, off to the side, out of Malone and Vitt’s way, listening. He was also out of Zovastina’s sight, as she’d yet to enter the lit chamber, staying in the shadowy passageway.

He watched as Malone and Vitt faced Zovastina. Neither of them betrayed his presence. Slowly, he inched closer to where the rock opened. He gripped the gun firmly in his right hand and waited for the moment Zovastina stepped inside to bring the weapon level with her head.

She stopped.

“My traitor. I wondered where you were.”

He noticed she’d come unarmed.

“Going to shoot me?” she asked.

“If you give me reason.”

“I have no weapon.”

That worried him. And a quick glance toward Malone saw he was concerned, too.

“I’ll have a look,” Cassiopeia said, moving toward the exit.

“You’ll regret attacking me,” Zovastina said to Cassiopeia.

“I’d be glad to give you the opportunity to get even.”

Zovastina smiled. “I doubt Mr. Malone, or my traitor here, would allow me the pleasure.”

Cassiopeia disappeared into the cleft. A few seconds later she reappeared. “Nobody out there. The house and grounds are still quiet.”

“Then where’d she come from?” Malone asked. “And how did she know to come here?”

“When you avoided my emissaries in the mountains,” Zovastina said, “we decided to back off and see where you were headed.”

“Who owns this place?” Malone asked.

“Enrico Vincenti. Or at least he did. I just killed him.”

“Good riddance,” Malone said. “If you hadn’t, I would have.”

“And the reason for your hatred?”

“He killed a friend of mine.”

“And you also came to save Ms. Vitt?”

“Actually, I came to stop you.”

“That may prove problematic.”

Her cavalier attitude worried him.

“May I examine the pools?” Zovastina asked.

He needed time to think. “Go ahead.”

Viktor lowered his gun, but kept the weapon ready. Malone wasn’t sure what was happening. But their situation posed problems. Only one way in and out. And that was never good.

Zovastina stepped to the brown pool and gazed down. She then walked to the green pool. “ZH. From the medallions. I wondered why Ptolemy had the letters added to the coins. He’s probably the one who laid those carvings at the bottom of the pools. Who else would have done that? Ingenious. It took a long time to decipher his riddle. Who do we have to thank? You, Mr. Malone?”

“Let’s say it was a team effort.”

“A modest man. A shame we didn’t meet sooner and under different circumstances. I’d love to have you working for me.”

“I have a job.”

“American agent.”

“Actually, I’m a bookseller.”

She laughed. “And a sense of humor.”

Viktor stood ready, on guard, behind Zovastina. Cassiopeia watched the exit.

“Tell me, Malone. Did you solve all of the riddle? Is Alexander the Great here? You were just about to explain something to Ms. Vitt when I interrupted.”

Malone still held the flashlight. Heavy duty. Seemed waterproof. “Vincenti wired this place with lights. Even lit the pools. Aren’t you curious why these were so important to him?”

“It looks like there’s nothing here.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

Malone laid the flashlight on the ground and removed his jacket and shirt.

“What are you doing?” Cassiopeia asked.

He slipped off his shoes and socks and emptied his trouser pockets of the phone and his wallet. “That symbol carved into the side of the pool. It leads to the distant refuge.”

“Cotton,” Cassiopeia said.

He eased himself into the water. Hot at first, but then its warmth soothed his tired limbs. “Keep an eye on her.”

He grabbed a breath and dove under.

“THE CURE FOR AIDS?” STEPHANIE ASKED LYNDSEY.

“A local healer showed Vincenti pools in the mountain years ago, when he worked for the Iraqis. He found out then that the bacteria destroy HIV.”

She saw that Ely was listening with a clear intensity.

“But he didn’t tell anybody,” Lyndsey said. “He held it.”

“For what?” Ely asked.

“The right time. He let the market build. Allowed the disease to spread. Waited.”

“You can’t be serious,” Ely said.

“He was about to spring it.”

Now Stephanie understood. “And you were going to share in the spoils?”

Lyndsey seemed to catch the reservation in her tone. “Don’t give me that sanctimonious crap. I’m not Vincenti. I didn’t know about any cure until today. He just told me.”

“And what were you going to do?” she asked.

“Help produce it. What’s wrong with that?”

“While Zovastina killed millions? You and Vincenti helped make that possible.”

Lyndsey shook his head. “Vincenti said he was going to stop her before she did anything. He held the antiagent. She couldn’t move without that.”

“But now she controls it. You’re both idiots.”

“You realize, Stephanie,” Thorvaldsen said, “that Vincenti had no idea there was anything else up there. He bought this place to preserve the bacteria source. He named it after the Asian designation. He apparently knew nothing about Alexander’s grave.”

She’d already co

At least Zovastina had left the light on. She’d examined every inch of the unfinished walls and stone floor. No way out. And more of that nauseating odor seeped in from under the door.

“Do those two computers have all the data about the cure on them?” Ely asked Lyndsey.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Getting out of here is what matters. Before the bonfire begins.”

“It does matter,” Ely said. “We can’t let her have those.”

“Ely, look around you. What can we do about it?”

“Cassiopeia and Malone are out there.”

“True,” Thorvaldsen said. “But I’m afraid Zovastina may be a step ahead of them.”

Stephanie agreed, but that was Malone’s problem.

“There’s something she doesn’t know,” Lyndsey said.

She heard it in his tone and was not in the mood. “Don’t try and bargain with me.”

“Vincenti copied everything onto a flash drive just before Zovastina showed up. He was holding the drive when she shot him. It’s still down in the lab. With that drive and me, you’d have the antiagent for her bugs and the cure.”

“Believe me,” she said. “Even though you’re a slimy SOB, if I could get you out of here, I would.”

She banged again on the door.

“But it’s not to be.”

CASSIOPEIA KEPT ONE EYE ON ZOVASTINA, WHOM VIKTOR WAS holding at bay with his gun, and one eye on the pool. Malone had been gone nearly three minutes. No way he’d held his breath that long.

But then a shadow appeared underwater as Malone emerged from the odd-shaped opening and broke the surface, resting his arms on the rocky edge, one hand gripping the flashlight.