Wednesday 0845 Washington DC
(1345 London, 1445 Paris)
“The library’s due to open in fifteen minutes,” Samantha told Mitch. “The exhibition’s on the second floor of the Thomas Jefferson Building, so that’s where we’ll be concentrating, as well as the entrances on the first floor.”
Samantha kept talking as she walked, flashing her badge to the library’s security officers and Roe’s people to get clearance through the main entrance. “Roe’s got more cops here then you’ve had hot breakfasts – well, English hot breakfasts. We’ve got six acting as tourists milling around on different levels, a further four in plain clothes on each of the entrances, two in the reading rooms and four security guards around the display on the first floor. He’s also organized extra security checks at the entrances; it’s going to be a long day.”
“What are you doing?” Mitch asked.
“I’m playing the tourist.” Samantha looked the part in jeans, a jacket and loose sweater, a camera around her neck, and a small Glock handgun hidden from view and clipped to the inside waist band of her jeans.
“What’s the general hunch?”
Samantha groaned, mounting the stairs two at a time to the first floor. “Given the layout of the room, it’s anyone’s guess. The exhibition is in front of the Great Hall, near the Congressional Members Rooms. Access to the stairs and First Street, which is down one level, is close to the display, so getting in and out quickly is not impossible.”
“How big is the exhibition?”
“Not that big. The display area itself is no more than twenty by six feet, and the display consists of twelve Dead Sea Scroll fragments and some artefacts.”
Mitch let out a low whistle. “There would be religious factions who would pay big money for one scroll, let alone twelve. Who’s organizing the exhibition?” He continued to drill Samantha.
Samantha shuffled through her notes. “The Israel Antiquities Authority. We’ve checked them out.”
She heard silence on the line.
“What are you thinking, Mitch?”
“I don’t know; to be honest, I’m struggling with this one. Been processing it in my head all night.”
“Me too,” Samantha stopped to watch Roe directing his men. She looked dwarfed amongst the high arches and deeply decorated ceilings of the building’s interior.
There was another long silence.
“Sam, we’re talking about someone trying to steal probably the oldest copy in existence of the Hebrew bible and parts of the Ten Commandments. It’s making me nervous – it could be more dangerous than we assumed.”
“If I wasn’t worried enough before, I am now,” she told him.
“I don’t want to panic you. I’m just making sure you are aware of the ramifications. This might not be a nice little snatch and grab. Who’s coming in on the tours today?”
“Tours, hold on,” Samantha shuffled more papers. She sat down on a bench, her sneakers squeaking on the marble floor. “There are public tours running every hour from ten until three o’clock and eight group tours booked in starting at nine-thirty, the last one’s at one-thirty. They’re limited to fifty people per tour.”
“That’s two per hour, fairly heavy traffic. How long is each tour?”
“One hour including the security checks. And, there is one constituent tour today at eleven.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a tour arranged through the Congressional offices. Basically, constituents can arrange special tours through their representatives,” she told Mitch.
“Did Roe not think to cancel any of them to reduce the amount of traffic going through?”
“No,” she answered. “Sorry, I should have thought of it.”
Samantha stood as she heard the crowds gathering outside. “The library’s about to open; there are tour groups here already.”
“OK,” Mitch sighed.
Again she heard silence on the line.
“Mitch?”
“Thinking.”
She waited.
“Give me the travel agents names and any names you have for the eight group tours,” Mitch ordered.
Samantha read them out, waiting as Mitch wrote down each one.
“Nick, take these,” she heard Mitch say. “Sam, “I’ll call you back, and lay low. Don’t be a hero.”
“OK.” She hung up and raced down the stairs as the doors to the building opened for the day.
Wednesday 0900 Washington DC
(1400 London, 1500 Paris)
“Adam, I need your networks,” Nick yelled to him from the laptop in the lounge room.
Adam appeared wet from the shower, a towel wrapped around him.
“I need to do international security checks …”
“Shove over,” Adam sat next to Nick opening an Internet page and logging in. After a few minutes he was through. “That should give you a person’s record if they’ve got one.”
“Perfect, thanks,” Nick said his eyes not leaving the screen. Adam returned to the bathroom to dress.
Within seconds Nick was on the phone to a travel agent, faking he was with the Library of Congress Security team. He requested a full list of names for the touring party. The first group took five minutes to come via email. He ran the names through the international database. “These all check out – a group of senior citizens from Scotland on a Trafalgar Tour. No one on board had anything more than a speeding ticket on their file.”
Mitch leaned over Nick’s shoulder and tore the list he wrote in half. He started by calling the travel agent and requesting the information while Nick ran names through the database.
“The second group are primary school students,” Mitch announced. “Nick, run checks on the teachers listed as attending.”
Nick typed in the names.
“All clear,” he announced after a few minutes.
“Can’t get the individual names for this group,” Mitch said hanging up the phone. “Not as obliging as Trafalgar Tours.”
Adam came up behind him.
“American Express travel … I know a lady in the New York office. Let me try.”
Mitch passed him the details.
“Next group’s clear,” Nick said. “Sports group package with a few cultural things thrown in. No one on board is interested in anything but sport, they’ll be in and out before you can say ‘offside’.” He took a few mouthfuls of water from a bottle beside him.
“No records?” Mitch asked, surprised.
“Other than a few drink driving charges and a case of minor assault—alcohol related—we’re clear.”
Nick moved onto the last name on his list. He entered the data and his eyes lit up. “Hold on. We’re onto something here. Who are these guys?”
Mitch joined him.
“They’re booked under the name United Theological University; eight theology students due to go through the library at twelve-thirty. Check this out … if I run the contact’s name, he comes up with a criminal record and a connection to a group called Atheos.”
Mitch felt his heart rate quickening. “Atheos – that’s Greek, it means ‘godless’.”
Adam overheard. “I know them. They’ve got networks in the U.S., here in the U.K. and throughout Europe. They’re about two thousand strong. We came across them six months ago – they call themselves purists.”
“Explain what you mean by purists?” Mitch asked Adam.
“They’re atheists; they believe in pure science. They don’t believe in any form of religion and consider organized religion to be corrupt. They aim to put an end to faith through scientific proof, and they’re growing in number.”
Mitch let out a low whistle. “Can you imagine?”
“People wouldn’t know what to do,” Nick added. “Right and wrong, heaven and hell – it’s all part of our psyche. Even our calendar is set up around holy days – Christmas, Easter, etc.”
“Exactly. It would be incomprehensible, if it could be achieved,” Adam agreed.
“Well, we’re getting too smart for our own good,” Mitch added. “Weren’t they doing carbon-date testing on the Shroud of Turin a few years ago?”
“Yes, and that’s my point,” Adam said. “Even when they concluded it could be the real thing, there were as many reports that came out faulting the testing process and its authenticity. While the print on the material matched that of wounds received by a crucified man, there was no evidence that it was wrapped around a man named Jesus. Let’s face it, even if they had proven it wasn’t as old as it should be, would everyone accept that as gospel, so to speak?”
Nick shrugged. “The world doesn’t need to lose any more faith in my opinion.”
Mitch looked up surprised. “I thought you had lost all faith.”
Nick smirked at him, and continued. “All of them go to university—not the same university—but they are all third-year theology students. That would make them around twenty years of age, I’m guessing.”
Adam nodded. “These guys spend every cent they raise trying to disprove religion. When we were investigating them, their U.K. branch was fundraising for a mission to find the remains of Jesus Christ.”
“Won’t finding that prove that there is a God?” Nick asked.
“No, the opposite. Most of western faith is based on the principle that Jesus was resurrected after being crucified. This gives people hope that there is life after death. If they find the bones …”
“I hear you!” Nick said, “I bet a five million pound Mastermind prize pool would make that trip a reality.”
“Exactly. Plus, I imagine some of these Dead Sea Scrolls may interest them greatly.” Adam reached for some papers he had printed out earlier. He read, “The Dead Sea Scrolls predate Jesus by approximately eight years and, as a consequence, there are no direct references to his life and teachings. The manuscript copies are at least a thousand years older than previously known biblical manuscripts and highlight the fact that several versions of the same biblical texts were in circulation at that time – and views differed about which versions were more authoritative,” he looked up. “No doubt Atheos want to study them to see how else they might discredit religious faith.”
“They may just want them to sell to the highest private bidder, take the money and put it towards their work,” Nick suggested.
“True,” Mitch agreed. “OK, Nick, check that this Atheos group are still on schedule for the tour – and see if you can get any photo I.D.s of them.”
“Will do,” Nick returned to the laptop.
“Adam, can you start running the names of the Atheos tour group members through the system and see who else has got a criminal record, beside the head contact?”
“Done,” Adam agreed.
Mitch went out on the balcony for fresh air and to think. He could hear his heart beating it was so loud. He paced the balcony waiting for Adam’s list of names.
Maybe this job’s too big for Sam … I should have sent Nick with her. Then again, it is in a closed environment and she has a full squad with her. I hate leading by remote control. He went back inside. Adam was hanging up.
“A couple of trespassing, and break and enter charges between them – all with a religious motivation,” Adam informed him.
“Here’s their pics coming through,” Nick opened the photo files one after the other, printing them out.
“I’d say we’ve got our Mastermind team, due at the library at twelve-thirty,” Adam confirmed looking at the profiles as they came off the printer. “Hold on, this guy looks familiar – he’s a local.”
“Five from the U.S., one from the U.K.?” Mitch asked.
Adam checked the photos and I.D.s.
“Yep, looks like it. Wonder why the U.K. lad got a look in,” Adam thought out loud.
“Must be some reason for the collaboration,” Mitch answered.
“So they’re playing United Nations, but how are they going to do it? If we could get that we’d have the element of surprise,” Nick said.
Mitch paced the room. Nick kept searching on the net. He printed out several more pages.
“I should have gone to D.C.,” Mitch ran his hand over his jaw.
“Mitch, you can’t be in every fight,” Nick came over to join him. “OK, let’s think it through; we might come up with something between the three of us.” He placed the map of the ground and first floors of the Thomas Jefferson building of the Library of Congress in front of them.
Mitch pounced on it with renewed focus. “Here’s the Great Hall on the first floor. The exhibition will be at the end of the Great Hall right next to the Congressional Members’ Room. In front is the staircase which goes down two flights and exits out onto First Street,” he pointed to the ground floor map.
“What’s going on in the Congressional Members’ Room today?” Adam asked.
Mitch dialed Samantha. She took a few minutes to find the information. Hanging up, he relayed it to Nick and Adam.
“Nothing, it’s not booked,” Mitch reported back. “Let’s get back to basics. The group is on an hour-long tour starting at twelve-thirty. They’re going to be with a staff member tour guide and they’re doing the whole museum – so, in theory, they should be getting to the Scrolls exhibition at around one-fifteen. Why would they book a tour when they could wander in and look at the scrolls anytime?”
“So, what’s the benefit of being in a tour group?” Adam asked.
Mitch dialed Samantha again instructing her to find out what this group would be getting as part of their tour.
“How well do we know this tour guide?” Adam asked when Mitch hung up.
“All the tour guides checked out … but as the Paris Mastermind taught us, that doesn’t guarantee anything. But we can’t risk replacing the guides in case any of them are working with Atheos – it’d blow it wide open.” Mitch closed his eyes picturing the scene. “They’re going to be there in less than two hours. We’ve got to get this; we can’t risk those scrolls being taken.”
“What if they destroy them then and there?” Nick asked.
Mitch opened his eyes. “It’s possible, but not logical that they would destroy them. Firstly, the scrolls support their case in as much as they create questions about the bible – and second, they could sell them off to fund-raise.”
“Fair enough.” Nick glanced at the clock. “Mitch, you’ll have to take five minutes off that case and focus on the other one. Print me out your bribery note and I’ll push off.”
Mitch rose. If I could just slow things down, he thought, it’s all happening too fast.
Nick watched Mitch print out the blackmail note, being careful not to leave any prints on it. He stuffed it in an envelope, addressed it and gave it to Nick who took hold of it with a gloved hand.
“I’d better go,” Nick said looking at his watch. Heading for the door he grabbed his baseball cap and folder.
“Thanks,” Mitch called after him. “Yell if there are any dramas.”
“It’ll be fine. Keep your shirt on,” he said seeing Mitch look at his watch for the fourth time in the last minute.
Closing the door behind him, Nick increased his pace to Cabot Square to make the delivery by four-thirty.
Need to be there when the last courier run for the day happens, otherwise it might arouse suspicion or attention. I want Lawrence to get our letter by close of business so he can have tonight to plan.
Entering Cabot Square, Nick dodged the swell of traffic as shift workers hurried to get home. The skies opened and he ran under cover in the courtyard of a building opposite Lawrence’s offices, out of the rain. For the first fifteen minutes there was not one courier driver in site.
“Shit, shit, shit!” he swore to himself, hoping to blend in with another delivery.
Nick was thinking up Plan B, when two bike couriers pulled up. One ran into Lawrence’s building, the Credit Suisse, with a parcel. Nick took the opportunity to make his delivery while the other courier was at reception. Keeping his head down, he bolted across the courtyard, entered Lawrence’s building and waited his turn. Nick handed over the envelope to the security guard, collected a signature on his fake delivery sheet and followed behind the other courier as he headed out of the doors.
He sighed with relief, returning to his former position to see who would come down to collect it. Five minutes later, he saw a young woman, possibly Lawrence’s personal assistant, arrive to retrieve it.
That whole exercise took less than fifteen minutes and the letter is on its way. Clean! He hurried back to the apartment.
Wednesday 1615 London
(1115 Washington DC)
Mitch heard Nick return and turned to get feedback. Nick gave him the thumbs up as he collapsed onto the sofa and put in one earphone to listen in on any conversation in Lawrence’s office, keeping the other ear free to talk to Mitch.
“All OK?” Mitch asked.
“Done and all-clear. It was even collected as I watched from across the road,” Nick said.
“Thanks, Nick.”
“This should be fun,” Nick said.
“For some,” Mitch frowned. “We’ve already caused the death of a kid. I’m more worried about who might be next.”
“Oh lighten up. Could you be any more uptight? You’ll keel over with a heart attack at this rate,” Nick said.
“That’s fine for you to say Nick, you only have to watch your own back. I’m responsible for that kid’s death.”
“How are you responsible? Lawrence is responsible. And if you are saying I wouldn’t stand by the team …” Nick glared at him.
“Well you haven’t been tested yet. It’s been pretty much about self-preservation so far, oh, and protecting Maria.”
“You’re completely off the mark,” Nick’s eyes narrowed with anger. “I’ve had Ellie’s back in the plane, not to mention yours and …”
Adam whistled and both men turned to look at him.
“Time out. Can you two work together?” he asked.
Mitch and Nick answered in unison.
“Of course we can,” Mitch said.
“Yeah, we did it for years in the Air Force,” Nick agreed.
Adam shook his head. “I’ve got something if I can interrupt?”
Mitch turned his concentration to Adam who was frowning at the photos of the six students.
“What’s up?” Mitch asked.
“There is something wrong here.” Adam jumped to his feet.
“What?”
“I’ve just thought of something,” reaching for his phone, Adam made a quick call. He wrote down two names. After hanging up, he rejoined them. “Paul and Ronin Asher! You know how I said we came across members of the group here last year?”
Mitch nodded.
“At that time, six months ago, they were under scrutiny for making a scene during the playing of the national anthem at Wimbledon – it has the reference to God Save the Queen.”
Mitch pushed him along. “Yep, and now one of those UK members is in the Library of Congress group taking a tour?”
“Yes, Ronin is, the other one isn’t.” Adam waited for Mitch to catch up.
“But as you said, there are hundreds of members …”
“But I remember this lad … he has a twin, an identical twin.”
Mitch and Nick stared at him for a minute.
“Ronin Asher, the boy on the tour doesn’t have his twin with him. Where is he?” Adam concluded.
Mitch’s eyes flared with excitement. “Adam, call the Library of Congress. Get them to search through their tour group lists, their research library booking lists, staff lists, any list they can find for the names, Paul and Ronin …?”
“Asher!” Adam said, picking up the phone.
“Nick, we need to send their photos to Samantha’s phone; Paul might wander through the Library on his own.”
“Done,” Nick confirmed.
Mitch paced. “I can see why Lawrence gets off on this Mastermind stuff. It’s riveting.”
“I know; I’m almost disappointed when they don’t work,” Nick agreed.
“Anything happening in Lawrence’s office?”
“Not yet,” Nick answered, listening in through his earpiece.
After a few minutes, Adam turned to Mitch. “How about that?” he said hanging up the phone. “Paul Asher was awarded a Library of Congress Junior Fellows Internship for the summer. He’s working in the artefacts preservation project area. What are the odds that area works with the scrolls?”
Mitch made a call. Hanging up, he stood by the fax, grabbing at the printout when it came through moments later.
“Ronin’s on a holiday visa in the States; Paul is on a short-term work visa.” Mitch looked up at the two men and smiled. “That’s fantastic,” he exhaled, “absolutely fantastic.” He dropped onto the sofa, sitting back and allowing himself a few moments to enjoy it, but couldn’t keep still. “So how are they going to do it?” he stood up. “They’ve got six members from their group taking a tour, Paul’s working inside and Ronin is on the tour. What are they going to do with him? How could they use a double in a crime?”
Adam and Nick looked frustrated.
“There has got to be some way they’re planning to fool security by using the twins masquerading as one person,” Nick said.
Adam turned around from the computer.
“Here’s some info on the Junior Fellows Programs.” He read it out loud. “The Library of Congress Junior Fellows Program offers a small number of fellowships each year for students enrolled in or completing undergraduate or graduate academic programs. Applicants from outside the United States are welcome, however it is entirely the responsibility of the successful applicant to obtain a U.S. work visa and to meet all personal expenses necessary to work at the Library of Congress.” Adam continued. “The Junior Fellow will carry out a variety of tasks dealing with topics in artefacts preservation, religion, philosophy, psychology, manuscripts and/or law. A Fellow may be involved in cataloguing, analyzing or classifying material. This provides students with an excellent opportunity to experience what takes place behind the scenes at the Library of Congress.”
“These kids are good,” a smile swept across Mitch’s face.