Ark of Fire

CHAPTER 77

It was a moment of quiet intimacy. Of murmured endearments. Life slowed down to its simplest, most lovely, facet.

In the midst of the quietude, Edie felt a spark. She snuggled closer to Caedmon, burrowing her head into the crook of his bare shoulder. This was not the first time she’d felt the spark, and she wondered if anything would come of it.

Could anything come of it?

On paper, she gave their relationship the shelf life of a carton of milk. If that. They were simply two sexually healthy people caught up in the excitement of the moment. Although, glancing at the small clock mounted to the wall, she could see that the excitement had lasted quite a few hours.

“You do know that this . . . this attraction is nothing more than a primitive urge,” she said, propping her head on his chest.

“Perhaps it must be primal, stripped of all civility, in order for us to put aside our preconceived notions of what should and shouldn’t be.”

Hmm . . . it sounded as though he’d given their relationship more than a passing thought.

“And maybe Freud was right about there being no such thing as pure unadulterated love. Maybe there’s sexual need and nothing else,” she countered, testing him.

“I suspect that Freud was an impotent bugger who wouldn’t have known love if it had slapped him in his bearded face. Let’s not analyze it. Let’s simply accept it, whatever it is, as a beginning. Tentative and tenuous, perhaps, but a beginning nonetheless.”

She smiled; Caedmon had passed the test with flying colors.

“Agreed. But if you think I’m one of those women who’d settle for a man just because he puts down the toilet seat, think again.”

“Point taken. Although I hope you’ll reward me with several bonus points for being so considerate.”

“Change of subject,” she announced. “I’m curious as to what would have happened if you had stayed at Oxford and received your doctorate?”

“You mean how would my life have unraveled?” When she nodded, he said, “In a very typical fashion, no doubt. I would have received a college appointment, most likely at Queen’s. At which point my life would have become a steady stream of tutorials, committee meetings, and university functions.”

“You know, I’m one of those people who believe that things happen for a reason. Personally, I don’t think you were meant to live such a sheltered life. Just look at Sir Kenneth Campbell-Brown. Okay, the man is brilliant, but he’s also a confirmed alcoholic bachelor. You were meant for a better life.”

Smiling, Caedmon brushed his lips against hers. “At the mention of the path not taken, I feel strangely glad-hearted.”

“Me, too.”

“Bloody hell,” he abruptly exclaimed a half second later. “How do terrorists communicate with one another?”

Surprised by the unexpected question, she lifted a shoulder. “Beats me. Although I suspect the answer is not messenger pigeons.”

“In a sense, that is the correct answer in that they communicate via the Internet,” he informed her, his blue eyes excitedly gleaming. “Which enables them to freely pass messages to cells and operatives all over the globe. Perhaps MacFarlane and his Warriors of God are no different.”

“Okay, suppose that’s true. How does the instant text message on Sanchez’s cell phone fit in? I thought that was how MacFarlane was communicating with his men.”

“When we first received the flash message, I thought that a communiqué had been encoded into the numeric list and that an encryption key would be needed to decipher the message. But what if the numeric list is the encryption key?”

“Sorry, I’m not following.” Edie propped her head on her hand.

“Knowing he can’t be too careful when sending messages across the globe, MacFarlane might very well have devised a two-pronged mode of communication. The first prong being the numeric list that was sent to Sanchez’s mobile phone.”

“And the second prong?”

“Mind you, this is mere speculation, but the second prong, or piece of the puzzle, might be the Warriors of God Web page.”

“You’re talking about the Web page that we checked out back in D.C., right?”

Caedmon shrugged. “As I said, it’s merely a working theory. All bones, no meat.”

“So let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” she said, still uncertain how all the pieces fit together. “You think there might be a message encoded in the Warriors of God Web page and that this message can only be decoded using the numeric list from the text message.”

“There’s only one way to find out. Unless I’m mistaken, the ferry boat is equipped with Inmarsat.”

“What’s that?”

“A mobile communications system that enables Internet access while at sea.”

Throwing back the sheet, Edie swung her feet to the floor. “Well, what are we waiting for?”