Sacred Stone

“I’m not much for trust,” Lassiter said, “but you must be.”

“I can assure you,” Hickman said, “you’ll be paid.”

“Where’s the meteorite headed?” Lassiter asked.

Hickman wondered if he should answer. “The Kaaba,” he said quickly.

“You’re rotten to the core,” Lassiter said, rising, “but then again, so am I.”

Lassiter walked from the office and out the front door. And as Lassiter climbed into the Daimler, Reyes secretly took photographs.

WALKING ONTO THE mill floor carrying the meteorite, Hickman saw two of the men from the trucks approaching from the back of the building. They met halfway across the expanse.

“Did you see the shipping containers?” Hickman asked.

“The three by the door?” one of the men asked.

“Yes,” Hickman said, walking closer to the docks with the men now following. “After I prep them, I want you to load them on the trucks and take them to Heathrow.”

Hickman was almost at the rear door now.

“Here’s the coating you ordered,” one of the men said, holding it aloft.

“Perfect,” Hickman said, reaching the milling machine. “Hand it to me.”

One of the men lifted a sack off the floor, started shaking it, and handed it over.

44

CABRILLO AND HISteam were waiting in the borrowed Range Rover at the Battersea heliport when Fleming reached him by cellular telephone. Adams was just descending over the Thames and making his turn to land.

“Juan,” Fleming said, “we just learned something you’re going to find interesting—it pertains to your meteorite. Call it repayment for helping us with the bomb.”

The sound of the approaching helicopter grew louder. “What is it, sir?” Cabrillo shouted.

“This comes from our lead agent in Saudi Arabia,” Fleming said. “The actual spot that Muslims pray to five times a day in Mecca is named the Kaaba. It’s a special temple that houses an interesting artifact.”

“What’s the artifact?” Cabrillo asked.

“A black meteorite supposedly recovered by Abraham. The site is the very heart of the Islamic faith.”

Cabrillo sat in stu

“Thanks for alerting me,” Cabrillo said. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

“I thought you should know,” Fleming said. “Be sure to call MI5 if we can help. We owe you one.”

HALPERT REACHED INTO a backpack he’d brought from the Oregonand attached locators to all three trucks. Then he attached a microphone to the bottom of the wall near the overhead door. Motioning to Hornsby, the two men retreated back to the tree line.

Once he was again safely hidden, he whispered into the radio.

“Tom,” he said, “what’s your status?”

Reyes and Barrett had attached a similar microphone near the front glass doors. They had just returned to safety behind a wall around the edge of the parking lot.

“We’re wired,” he whispered back.

“Now we just wait and listen,” Halpert said.

HICKMAN’S TEAM WAS working in silence. After using the portable paint sprayer to make an airtight seal over the containers with a liquid plastic, one of the men drilled a pair of small holes directly through the metal sides of the containers. One hole was near the top, about chest high, the other farther down at about ankle height.

Next, the holes were threaded and small pipes installed.

Once that was done, Hickman spoke. “Masks,” was all he said.

Reaching into bags they’d brought along, the five men placed gas masks over their mouths and noses. Then one of the men attached an air pump to the pipe on the bottom of the container and started it up. Air started to be sucked from the interior of the container. Making two marks on the vial of poison to divide it into thirds, Hickman poured the liquid into a small stainless steel holding tank that screwed into the upper fitting. Carefully watching his wristwatch, he timed the introduction of the virus into the container, then removed the holding tank and screwed an airtight cap on the end.

Leaving the air pump ru

Hickman was just finishing with the containers. Taking the empty vial away from the area they were in, he found an empty spot on the floor. Sprinkling the vial with gasoline, he lit a match and tossed it on the floor. Flames burst out.

Back at the containers, the remaining four men removed small butane torches like those used by plumbers to sweat pipes together. They lit them, turned the flames on high and waved them through the air for a full five minutes.

“Okay,” Hickman said, “open the doors but keep the masks on.”

One of the men walked over to the overhead doors and pushed the electric lifts on all three bays. Then the drivers walked out, pulled the winch cables from the rear of the cabs of the trucks and started to winch the containers into place. Once they were secured, Hickman climbed into the passenger side of the lead truck and motioned for the driver to pull out.

HALPERT AND HORNSBY watched the exodus from their hiding spot. They snapped as many photographs as they could with their infrared cameras, but there was little else they could do. They watched as the trucks pulled from the docks one by one with the doors open to the weather.

The snow had turned to rain and the tires of the trucks splashed through the parking lot as they drove from the rear to the front of the building, then headed up the road leading away from the mill.

“Tom,” Halpert said quickly, “do not try to enter the building; the men that just left were wearing gas masks.”

“I understand,” Reyes said.

“I’m going to call the Oregon,” Halpert said, “and ask what to do.”

AS SOON AS he hung up after talking with Fleming, Cabrillo phoned Hanley to report what he had learned.

“I’ll have Stone start looking into it immediately,” Hanley said.

“Maybe Hickman is not pla

Just at that instant Halpert radioed. “Hold on,” Hanley said to Halpert, “I’ll put you on a three-way with Mr. Cabrillo.”

Once they could all hear one another, Halpert explained what had happened.

“ARE YOU READING the locator signals from the trucks?” Cabrillo asked Hanley.

Hanley glanced over at the screen Stone was pointing at. Three moving dots were illuminated. “We have them,” he said, “but there’s another problem.”

“What’s that?” Cabrillo asked quickly.

“We lost the signal from the meteorite a few minutes ago.”

“Damn,” Cabrillo said loudly.

The line was silent for a moment as Cabrillo thought. “Here’s what we are going to do,” he said after the pause. “I’m sending Adams and Truitt back to the ship in the Robinson for chemical exposure suits—Michael, you and the others wait until they arrive.”

“Okay, boss,” Halpert said.

“Jonesy and I will stay here in the Range Rover,” Cabrillo continued. “As soon as the trucks have a definite direction selected, we’ll try to intercept them. Has the other team reached Heathrow yet?”

“They just met up with Gunderson and Pilston at the Gulfstream in the last five minutes,” Hanley said.