The Sanctuary

Chapter 40

A man’s voice broke through Mia’s dour thoughts.

“You must be Mia Bishop.”

She turned. The man standing before her extended his hand. “Bill Kirkwood. I was looking for Jim?”

As she met his hand, she took in his features. He was a pleasant-looking guy, but there was something aloof in his manner, a reserved hesitance, that discomforted her. “I don’t know where he is,” she said. “He left me here about an hour ago.”

“Ah.” He seemed to hover for a moment before adding, “I’m sorry about what’s happened to your mom.”

Mia wasn’t sure how to answer that. She went with “It comes with the territory, I guess.”

“Not lately, it hasn’t. Not in Lebanon. It took us all by surprise. Still, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Mia nodded and let an awkward silence settle between them.

“So I hear you had another Wild West adventure,” he ventured.

Mia shrugged. “I seem to have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You could look at it that way. Then again, the fact that you were there that night and that you reported what happened to your mom could end up saving her life.”

Her face brightened. The thought brought her a hint of solace. “I hope so. You knew her?”

Kirkwood nodded. “A little. UNESCO. We’ve been funding some of her digs out here. She’s a great lady, we have nothing but the highest of respect for her, you know. And this whole thing is just so…awful. Tell me, Mia — may I call you Mia?”

“Sure.”

“How did she seem to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were the last one to see her before she was kidnapped,” Kirkwood reminded her. “Did she seem nervous about anything? Worried, maybe?”

“Not particularly. She was a bit rattled by Farouk — you know, the Iraqi dealer — his showing up out of the blue took her by surprise. But otherwise…” Her voice drifted as she noticed that his eyes had wandered to the desk and settled on the writing pad. It was covered with notes she had scribbled during her calls and littered with doodles of the Ouroboros.

Kirkwood cocked his head to one side, intrigued. “The symbol on one of the books,” he half-noted, half-asked. “From Iraq.”

Mia felt slightly rattled. “Yes,” she answered, somewhat surprised that he knew that.

“Do you know what it is?”

“It’s called an Ouroboros.” She wasn’t sure how much to say and settled for “I don’t know much about it.” She forced a smile, which she knew didn’t reach her eyes. She wondered if he noticed.

“You think that book is what the kidnappers are really after?” he asked.

She felt conflicted.

Kirkwood must have seen it, as he preempted her unease. “It’s fine. I’m working with Jim on getting Evelyn back. He told me about your chat. Said you took him to her apartment.” He paused. “We’re all on the same side here,” he added with a hint of a smile as he leaned in and studied her notes.

She relaxed and nodded. “It’s the one thing that links Evelyn, the cabal’s chambers, the book, and the hakeem. It’s got to mean something.”

A puzzled look clouded his face. “The hakeem?”

A knot formed in her throat. She knew she’d screwed up the second she’d said it. She fumbled for the right words to get her out of her spot, but they wouldn’t announce themselves. “He’s…you know, in Baghdad,” she mumbled. “Maybe you should ask Jim about that.”

Just then, mercifully, Corben showed up.

Another man was with him, younger than Corben, someone she hadn’t met before. He had short chestnut hair, a thick-set neck, and wore a navy blue suit with no tie. Corben seemed surprised to see Kirkwood here and gave him a small nod. As Kirkwood acknowledged him back, Mia caught a barely perceptible unease in Corben’s expression as he glanced down at the desk, where her doodles were in view.

Corben motioned to the man with him. “This is Greg,” he said to Mia. “He’ll take you to the hotel whenever you’re ready and he’ll stay with you. We’re going to put you up at the Albergo. It’s a small hotel in Ashrafieh”—the Christian side of town—“you’ll be fine there.”

“Okay.” Mia nodded to Corben.

“It’s where I’m staying,” Kirkwood added, before turning to Corben. “Anything on that phone tap?”

“Nothing yet,” Corben said matter-of-factly.

“So what are you going to do?” Kirkwood asked.

“I’m driving back into town to be within striking distance.” Corben shrugged. “Maybe we’ll get a break.” He turned to Mia. “I’ll give you a call later to make sure you’re all sorted out.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Corben looked at her, then nodded to the other agent as if to say, All yours.

As Corben turned to leave, Kirkwood said, “Good luck. And keep us posted.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I have news.”

For some reason, Mia didn’t think Corben was too keen on following through with that. More than that, he seemed a bit wary of Kirkwood.

Which meant that she probably ought to be as well.

Kirkwood lifted the plastic lid and pulled out a cup of coffee from the coffeemaker in the lobby of the annex. He ventured a sip. Surprisingly, it wasn’t half-bad.

He replayed his little chat with Mia. It was obvious that she, and therefore Corben, knew far more than they were saying. During his briefings, Corben hadn’t said anything about the kidnappers having a specific interest in any of the artifacts, let alone mentioned the book specifically, nor had he brought up Evelyn’s discovery of the underground chamber. And yet Mia clearly knew about both.

And Corben certainly hadn’t mentioned this hakeem. Even though the man was clearly an intrinsic part of the equation.

Even more interestingly, Mia had said the hakeem was in Baghdad. He knew hakeem meant “doctor,” and the sound of that didn’t set well in his stomach.

He felt a deep-seated unease. There were agendas he didn’t know about. And the Iraqi dealer was still far from being in safe hands. He needed to know what was really going on, and the place to start was with Corben. Which wouldn’t be easy. Kirkwood’s contacts within the UN were rock solid. His contacts within the intelligence community were less so. The UN, however, did — purposefully at times, unwittingly at others — play a significant role in the Iraq war, particularly during the whole WMD debacle. Kirkwood could use his contacts to mine that vein while looking for other ways to get into the Agency’s inner workings.

He also needed to get more information regarding Mia’s background, but that would have to come through other methods. He didn’t think it would be too difficult.

He took another sip from his cup, fished his phone out of a pocket, and dialed.