The Sanctuary

Chapter 52

The dusty morning sunlight conspired with the car horns and street vendors to wake Mia up. In truth, she hadn’t slept well at all despite the cushy comfort of her bed. As if the whole notion of the hakeem’s insane aspiration being possibly not-so-insane wasn’t enough, Kirkwood’s closing words had sent her mind into a confused spin. The three martinis probably didn’t help on that front either.

Kirkwood was right. They had to keep this quiet, at least until Evelyn was safe.

Which meant keeping it from Corben.

Thinking back, Mia had sensed a wariness in the agent when she’d first seen him around Kirkwood. What was the real reason for that? Did the agent know more than he’d shared with her? She thought back to Corben’s telling her about the lab in Baghdad. He’d suggested that it was about bioweapons, but he hadn’t given her a satisfactory explanation of why the hakeem was after the codex, repeating — annoyingly, as far as she was concerned — that it was irrelevant to getting Evelyn out. If the hakeem’s experiments had to do with longevity, surely the CIA’s experts would already have figured that out.

Which meant they’d want to keep it under wraps.

Either she was way off the mark, which she thought was quite likely. Or, on the off chance that what she and Kirkwood had speculated about last night was real, Corben was hiding things from her. Which, she reminded herself, wouldn’t be that shocking. He was a CIA man. He had a job to do. Not telling her the whole truth wouldn’t exactly be keeping him up at night.

On the other hand, she didn’t know much about Kirkwood. She’d felt a certain distance, a hesitancy in his manner, almost a shyness — about something. But he also exuded calmness, a confidence that came with well-honed knowledge. Still, she didn’t know anything about Kirkwood, really. He’d appeared in Beirut wanting to help get Evelyn out, he was with the UN, and that was pretty much it. Mia realized she had to be careful with him too. The same reasons that would have her be wary of Corben had to apply to Kirkwood too.

Her mouth felt dry and her stomach was grumbling in protest. Deciding that the buffet would provide a quicker fix than room service, she quickly slipped on some cargo pants and a shirt and headed out to the hotel’s restaurant.

She was lost in her thoughts and waiting for the elevator when its doors pinged open. Kirkwood was standing inside.

A silver attaché case and a backpack were by his feet. He looked as if he was leaving.

Mia stepped inside, her eyes darting from his face to the bags and back. Something caught in her throat. “You’re leaving?”

His face tensed up, as if he’d been caught out. “No, I,…,” he stumbled, “I’ll be back tonight.”

She nodded, sensing his discomfort. She decided to probe a little deeper. “Look, I’ve been thinking about what we were talking about, and I think I should let Jim know.” She studied his face. “Maybe it’ll help.”

Kirkwood hadn’t slept well either. His chat with Mia, at the rooftop bar, deeply unsettled him. He’d nudged at the truth with her, then he’d pulled back. Which left her with a lot of questions. Questions that could get her into trouble.

Corben and his handlers obviously had their own agenda. Evelyn was expendable, Kirkwood knew that. Mia hadn’t posed much of a threat to them, but if she started asking too many questions, making a pain of herself, they might feel threatened. And he knew what these people did when they felt that way.

He’d made that mistake before. Keeping quiet about the real significance of the tail-eater had put people in danger. He didn’t want it to happen again.

And he certainly didn’t want it to happen to Mia.

“Let’s talk about this some more before you do that,” he said as they stepped out of the elevator. His eyes swept the lobby and noticed the agent guarding Mia sitting by the hotel’s entrance, reading a newspaper.

The agent nodded to Mia, who acknowledged him back before turning to Kirkwood.

“I know you’re not sure about Jim’s motives,” she pressed on, “but he’s been pretty open with me about what they have, and—”

“Please, Mia,” Kirkwood interrupted, “you’ve got to trust me on this.” He checked his watch and winced.

He’d wanted to tell her everything the night before. He’d thought of calling her room earlier that morning, to fill her in on what was going on, but he’d held back.

He took her aside, into the small library bar, out of the agent’s eye line. No one else was in there. “We got a hit early this morning, out of Iraq,” he lied. “I’d put the word out through our contacts on the ground there. We’ve been heavily involved in trying to secure the country’s historic heritage, especially after the fiasco at the National Museum four years ago. We’ve offered rewards and amnesties in the past, and the strategy’s been very successful. It’s also helped us develop a significant network of contacts within the antiquities community. Anyway, we think we know who’s got the pieces Farouk was trying to sell. A dealer in Baghdad who knows — well, knew — him told one of our people there that Farouk had mentioned the items to him. He said Farouk was brokering them for another dealer, a man from Mosul.” He’d skirted around the difficult part, but he was back on track now. “Farouk didn’t have the pieces with him here in Beirut. That’s why he only had the Polaroids.”

“So the book’s still in Mosul?” Her eyes were alight with interest.

“No. It’s in Turkey.” He paused, taking stock of her reaction, before diving in. “I’m going there now to bring it back. Come with me. I’ll fill you in on the plane.”

Questions and confused feelings harried Mia’s mind.

She wasn’t sure about Kirkwood, but then again, she wasn’t sure about Corben either. The only person she could really trust to look out for Evelyn’s interests was herself. If the book that could free her mom was really out there, she had to do everything she could to make sure it got into their hands — her hands — safely. But a nagging uncertainty was still vying for her attention, warning her.

“I can’t just fly off with you like that,” she objected.

“Mia, listen to me,” Kirkwood insisted. “There are things you don’t know.”

That made her angry. “Like what?” she asked fiercely.

He heaved a conflicted sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, but…last night. I wasn’t being perfectly honest with you. After you mentioned this hakeem at the embassy, I managed to get hold of his file.” She could hear the deep concern in his voice. “What we talked about last night. It’s exactly what he’s working on. And Corben and his people know it.”

Her mouth dropped an inch. “The experiments…?” She already knew the answer.

Kirkwood nodded somberly. “That’s what they’re interested in.”

She didn’t know which way to turn, but one certainty was hacking its way through the thorns in her mind: She couldn’t trust Corben. Not anymore. The verdict on Kirkwood, on the other hand, was still open, but she didn’t have much choice. She had to risk it.

“What do I tell the agent out there?” she asked flatly, motioning towards the man guarding her.

“Don’t tell him anything.”

“He’s here to guard me. He’s not going to let me waltz out of here with you without checking with Jim.” The man’s name felt like poison on her tongue.

Kirkwood frowned and thought for a moment. “The restaurant next door’s part of the hotel, but it’s got its own entrance further down the street. They’ve got to have the same kitchen. I’ve got a car waiting for me outside. Go back to your room, get your passport and whatever you need to take with you, and take the stairs down to the restaurant and make your way out from there. I’ll be parked around the corner.”

She was about to leave when Kirkwood put his hand on her arm. “Please, Mia. Trust me on this. Don’t confront Jim about this. Not yet. Not until we know we have the book safely. I don’t want to give anyone any chance to screw us on using it to get Evelyn back.”

She made a quick study of the man. His eyes shone with sincerity. He was either telling her the truth, or he was a spectacularly effective liar.

Either way, she’d soon find out.

She nodded and headed back to the elevator.

Kirkwood watched her leave with a knot in his stomach. He was now committed. There would be no turning back.

He checked his watch and decided to initiate a precaution he’d been mulling. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number of the scout in Iraq who had first brought Abu Barzan’s find to their attention.

The man could be trusted. Years of collaboration, a couple of passed trust tests, and a healthy retainer had proven that.

He couldn’t risk calling Abu Barzan himself. He knew that if Corben had in fact been the counterbidder for the book, he and his minders knew about Abu Barzan and had his phone number. They could be monitoring it. And Kirkwood preferred not to announce his real interest to them just yet.

The scout picked up quickly. Kirkwood told him what to do. He had to do it quickly and be brief. He also had to make sure he didn’t spook Abu Barzan. He asked the scout to call him back from another number and let him know where the new meeting would take place.

He hung up, picked up the attaché case and the backpack, and headed for the door.