Sacred Stone

12

IN REYKJAVIK, MAX Hanley was hard at work aboard the Oregon. The Arab Peace Summit was winding down and once tomorrow’s meetings concluded, the emir would board his 737 and his security concerns would pass to his staff.

So far the operation had gone perfectly. The emir had been able to move freely about Iceland with an almost invisible security presence. The teams from the Corporation were masters at blending into the background. Today, after the meetings concluded, the emir had wanted to visit Blue Hole, a nearby natural hot springs pool that had been created when a new geothermal plant had been constructed. There, rich, mineral-laden water flowed among acres of volcanic rocks to form an outdoor oasis from the cold. Steam from the naturally heated waters swirled in the air, forming clouds like in a steam bath. People in the water appeared and disappeared like ghosts in a misty cemetery.

Six of the Corporation team had been nearby in the water while the emir soaked.

A few minutes ago, Hanley had received word that the emir was in the locker rooms dressing. Now, Hanley was coordinating the two separate convoys that would return the people back to the emir’s hotel.

“Did you trip the switch?” Hanley asked Seng over the satellite phone.

“One in,” he said, “one out. No one could see a thing.”

“That should throw off the opposition,” Hanley said.

“Slick as a baby’s behind,” Seng agreed.

“Make sure you time the two caravans to arrive a few minutes apart,” Hanley said, “and go in through the back doors.”

“You got it,” Seng said before disconnecting.

“YOU HAVE ALL the arrangements made?” Hanley asked Medical Officer Julia Huxley as she walked into the control room.

“The detox facility is in Estes Park, Colorado,” Huxley said. “I hired an Icelandic nurse who speaks excellent English to accompany him on the flight to New York and then on to Denver. A van from the facility will pick him up in Denver. All he has to do is make the flight from Kulusuk to Reykjavik alone. I’ve alerted the pilot and had a few Librium pills dropped at the airport for the pilot to hand-carry to him. That should calm him and help fight convulsions until the nurse here can take over.”

“Good job,” Hanley said. “We’ll go ahead as soon as the chairman gives the okay.”

“On the second matter,” she said, “the boss needs to be concerned about radiation exposure when he retrieves the meteorite. I have some potassium iodine on board that we can give him when we meet up again, but the farther away he keeps the object, the better.”

“His plan is to wrap it in plastic and an old blanket and carry it to the rear of the snowcat inside a metal toolbox.”

“That should be fine,” Huxley said. “It’s the possibility of inhaled dust that should concern him the most.”

“We estimate there will be no dust—in the photograph it looks like a giant ball bearing. Any dust should have burned off on reentry. So unless Cabrillo has prolonged, close contact with the orb, exposing him to the radiation, he should be okay.”

“That’s the score,” Huxley agreed.

Huxley turned to leave but then stopped at the door. “Chief?” she said to Hanley.

“Yes, Julia?”

“I don’t know if you’ve ever seen radiation exposure cases,” she said quietly. “They aren’t pretty. Tell the boss to keep the meteorite as far away from himself as possible.”

“I’ll relay the message,” Hanley said.