Chapter 40

 

 

8:30 p.m.

 

Calla arched down to check her boot.

“Calla!”

The voice came from within the mine.

“This way!”

Nash and Allegra glanced back down. “Who’s that?” Nash said.

Her foot slid, sending her back down several feet. She receded to the mine floor and glared up at a leering face. “Taiven?” She wiped an arm across her sooty eyes. “What’re you doing here?”

“Keeping this from Mason.” He raised his arm out clasping a black container. “I believe you could use this.”

“You’ve had the carbonado all along?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Why didn’t you give it to me?”

A veiled woman stepped in from the shadows. “You weren’t ready.”

Calla struggled to see the owner of the voice through dust that had fogged her vision. “Mila?”

Mila stepped into the light. Piercing eyes, full lips and a strong jaw, just like in Pella. She’d discarded her kohl eyeliner for a more natural look and wore no frills, laces or bangles. As she came into full view Calla took in her white body uniform, much like those that Calla had seen in the Cove, donned under an Arabian veil. Allegra and Nash dropped down and observed behind Calla.

“This whole time, Taiven,” blurted Allegra as she admired the ornate container in his hand.

“I wanted to tell you so many times but it wasn’t my place. My mission was and is Calla Cress.”

He placed the wooden box in Calla’s hand. “You need to go now and reunite the black diamonds. You only have until dawn London time.”

“Mason has the other stone,” Nash said.

Taiven’s jaw hardened. “The carbonados run on a time clock that was set by a chemical reaction when they exploded into space. Merovec calculated that eight days was probably the greatest amount of time it would take to allow effective use of the combined energies of the diamonds.”

Calla started to speak. Her hand jerked violently to her lips as the box crashed to the floor. The carbonado rolled onto the gravel glistening its various shades of amber, crimson and ebony.

Their attention was drawn to a thin yet accurate steel cable trailing, attached to a steel net.

Mason’s dusty head surfaced from darkness. “Give that here!”

He tossed an accurate net over the black diamond and hauled the rock toward him.

Nash stretched for the carbonado as it hung suspended. Mason swung a clenched fist at him. Nash dodged out of reach and the blow flew past him, missing his nose by millimeters. He reached with his free hand and seized Calla’s bag from Mason’s shoulder. He tossed the items to Calla.

Mason padded for his shotgun. And Nash booted it swiftly out of his fumbling hand. “Go, Calla! You don’t have much time!”

Mason took hold of Nash’s neck and flung him to the ground. He wrapped a wire cord around Nash’s resilient neck. He tugged tight at the cord until Nash’s air supply deteriorated under Mason’s grip. Nash convulsed and gasped for oxygen, thrashing and kicking his legs until his struggling body limped like a fragmented puppet.

Taiven darted forward. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mason.”

“You again! After all these years you show your face?”

Taiven eyes blazed like fire. “Release him!”

“Out of my way!” retorted Mason.

The cave wall shot furious debris that loosened the ground around Mason’s feet.

It came from beneath. A wide gap cracked open. Mason lost his footing and broke through a widening rift in the ground as it split, pulling Nash down with him. No!

The onlookers shoved to the edge of the torn ground. Shudders of pelting debris kept them from any rescue activity.

Taiven set a hand on Calla’s shoulder. “You need to bring together the carbonados now or we are all spent.”

 

 

 

 

DAY 17

 

0:20 a.m.

The Cove, London Branch

 

“Have they found the carbonados?”

Vortigern marched into the room brimming with bustling operatives.

“We’ve just heard from Allegra,” retorted one commander. “They’re here in London.”

Vortigern remembered the day he’d been entrusted with delivering the stones to the caretakers. He’d been given strict instructions not to fail. The search for the right keepers had been at his sole discretion all those years ago.

He peered down at the three-holed pallet contained within a wooden case, from which he’d once removed the stones. He forced shut the ornate container and admired its exterior. Carved out of mahogany its borders were encrusted with pure gold. It rested on his desk, no bigger than a tissue box.

 “They have to make it in time. Those carbonado diamonds have never been in one place since I separated them.”

 

 

 

2:56 a.m.

The Shard

London Skyline

 

Calla spied through the glass façade of the glimmering Shard skyscraper. Mason conferenced with a number of members of ISTF and a few she didn’t recognize. It didn’t surprise her that several hours ago her companions had thought him gone, crushed.

Mason had mastered covertness and warfare like most men master the art of breathing. She didn’t know what craft he used but he was effective.

Ingenious.

She leered at him as he strolled from chair to chair, clutching a wireless remote control no bigger than a mobile phone. Come to think of it he always carried it with him. She’d seen him handle it the day they’d first met at the ISTF Technology Museum. It had to have been instrumental in assisting him, and possibly Nash, out of the rubble.

 

Upon leaving Jordan she’d contacted Vortigern about that phone, hoping its global, positioning tracking ID would surface on the operatives’ databases and help them get to Nash.

Vortigern performed a covert search on ISTF’s satellite tracking site and discovered that, not only was the tracking device sending a signal from London, but even more peculiar, from the Shard. Vortigern’s intelligence revealed that Mason had communicated for assistance while in Jordan.

Additional data prowling revealed that Mason had recently purchased a few office floors in the skyscraper. Possibly the reason her Range Rover pursuer had been so eager to dart in there a few days ago. Though uncertain about Nash’s wellbeing she guessed that Mason intended to take Nash with him wherever he would go. Possibly to use him as barter for the manuscript and the carbonados.

 

She took her eyes off the remote control. Invisible to the naked eye she fluttered like a hawking tigress on the tilted front of the fiftieth floor. The conference participants listened attentively as Mason spoke and others joined via video-conference. The man Calla presumed was Kumar was full of praise and his musical voice broke the discussion.

Calla listened.

 

 

“Having personally verified the delivery of your blueprints, Mason, I’m impressed,” said the good humored man.

Mason captivated the room with his overbearing presence. “We’re ready to proceed.”

“We’re pleased with what we see, Mason,” said Milan.

Mason frowned at the screen broadcasting from the largest metropolitan area in Israel.

“So, you still don’t have the diamonds?” mocked Tel Aviv.

Mason’s eyes were distracted by a screen at the foot of the table. His negotiating card.

“I’ve got the next best thing. This is worth more to Cress than the carbonados.”

Mongrel!

 

 

Using heightened vision Calla scrutinized the floors for the exact spot Mason’s screen had tuned in. Nash sat on the floor with his head in his hands, imprisoned in a secured room on the fifty-second floor. Calla soared round to the other side of the building and coasted to his window. She shut her eyes searching for Nash’s exact window. The reunited carbonado diamonds had advanced her ability to see through and manipulate opaque objects.

Nash rose and leaned his arms against the door of a solitary room. His wrists were fastened with makeshift steel cords that allowed him movement of only a few meters. His head bowed in contemplation, facing the inside wall.

Calla pressed her hands against the weighty glass. It would take a powerful blow. She threw double fists through the twin-skin façade. The glass shattered its many layers until a large puncture appeared, two feet in diameter.

Nash raised his head and glanced toward the window. The fresh air breathed through his sandy tresses, as intense moonlight reflected off his bruised face. He veered toward the perforated window, barely making it.

Calla’s upper body permeated through the diffused glass.

Nash’s face settled inches from hers, his eyes widening, assessing if he’d seen right. “Hey, beautiful, wouldn’t the front door have been the easier option?”

“Since when do I do easy?”

“That you don’t.” He smiled. “I’m really glad to see you.”

His smile could still dissolve her insides like ice in a furnace. “Nash,” she whispered.

He edged closer. “I see it was worth getting those diamonds to you.”

He glanced at her smooth, pearl-toned body suit, matched with a white headband belted around her forehead. “Is this who you really are?”

A mischievous smile played on her lips. “You’re not disappointed are you?”

Nash leaned forward as if to touch her and ensure she wasn’t a vision. His hand settled on her face. “Not in the least.”

Amused, she eased through the glass and effortlessly loosed his restraints. He watched her move with sureness. Her hair fluttered freely with the night breeze that streamed into the room. She inched forward and, for the first time ever, received his waiting embrace without reservation. She kissed him deeply, as if the moment would erase the rejection she’d tossed his way for months.

 

“I hate to interrupt a tender moment.”

Calla frowned at the interruption as Slate strode through the door aiming a firearm.

“Mason said you’d come. Let’s go,” commanded Slate. He waved a weapon in the direction of the door.

She bit her bit. “I think I’ve had enough of Mason’s instructions. How about you, Nash”

She swung a roundhouse kick into Slate’s side. The firearm loosened from his grasp and dropped to the granite-tiled floor, firing a deafening shot. Slate reached out to retrieve it.

Nash got to it first.

Anticipating Slate’s response Calla seized his outstretched hand and crushed it within her powerful grip. Stunned into paralysis Slate squealed in pain. She struck at his throat with her other hand, sending him gasping for air, unable to speak.

“Had enough?” Calla said.

Her stare weakened him until he broke down into huffs.

“You don’t need to be an errand boy for Mason,” she said. “You know ISTF won’t protect you from prosecution and Mason will certainly not stick out his neck for you.” She released him from her grasp. “You want to stop him yourself, if you could.”

He gawked at her, giving away no emotion.

“Mason won’t help you when he ends up sliding a feeding pan across bars. But I’m sure government people like Allegra Driscoll will make sure you get the best legal support or even a deal.” She watched for a reaction. “It’s up to you.”

Slate reeled back until his body edged up against the wall. The pain caused him to heave and grab at his chest. “I don’t need you to show me that Mason is a first class crossbreed. I’ve seen this coming for some time.”

Slate drew his eyebrows together. “To him I’ll always be a hit man, paid to venture where he won’t dare. Doesn’t say much about me, does it?”

“Actually,” said Nash. “It makes you smarter than him.”

They watched Slate whimper. He seemed to be talking to himself and, for a moment he ignored their presence.

He bolted upright. Slate ceased to babble and eyed the two bystanders before wiping his bloodied nose with his sleeve.

Voices filtered into the hallway. The meeting had adjourned. Calla watched Slate’s fury intensify. “Wanna start now?”

He started at her for a few seconds. “A deal you say?” He shot Nash a look. “This way.”

 

They headed for the door and raced down the dark corridor toward the conference rooms. The lights flickered as they neared Mason’s closed meeting.

“He’ll be in there a few more minutes. Follow me,” Slate said.

“We might need to strategize this a little,” warned Nash.

Mason’s hoarse voice sounded at the end of the hall. “You made an appearance, Cress.”

They swept their heads around. He stood behind them. “Looks like your meeting adjourned early. Good, we can get this over with,” Calla said.

Mason fiddled with an electronic tablet and focused his penetrating eyes on Calla. Like lightning Slate curved his way past them and launched himself at Mason.

Mason’s body shifted briskly to one side as Slate sailed right past him, hurtling to the ground.

Calla tilted her head toward Nash. “Should we?”

“After you, beautiful,” Nash said.

 

Mason held on tightly to the wireless remote-command tablet and moved backward.

Calla calmly paced forward, studying his intention. “Something bothering you, Mason?”

He made his way into the conference room where half the meeting members had left. Bewildered eyes glanced up and shot to their feet. Mason motioned them out as he made his way steadily to the video control panel. The men obliged, picking up their belongings and shuffling past Calla.

Calla tracked cautiously, watching as Mason operated the control panel.

“I’m afraid you didn’t make it in time, Cress.”

“I’m never late.”

He threw his shoulders back, poised and controlled. “Three thousand of my operatives are in their positions. You forget I had two diamonds for more than twenty-four hours. Enough time to set up my protocol analyzer, a little device that will capture and analyze signals and data traffic throughout the systems of Riche Enterprises, Kumar Oil Corporation and the US Republican Party. “

“Counting your eggs a little too early, Mason?”

“Hmm! Why Merovec would pick a woman is beyond me. Anyway, his loss. By now my hackers have seized more data than I need. I’m more than halfway there.”

Calla edged closer.

Mason cradled his tablet. A sapphire-blue light told her it was in remote control mode. He sneered. “All I need to do now is transfer the systems to promisc mode, that is, to a mode that will cause the system controllers of these organizations to pass all the traffic they receive to my central processing unit and not their own.”

Her firm tone was unrelenting. “Looks like you thought of everything.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps you’d better determine whose side you’re on, Cress. Soon that choice will be made for you as the hack will include everything, bank transactions, contract information, client lists, confidential R&D plans, new technological developments, firm secrets and well, you know how it goes, much more. No organization will be out of reach.”

He cast a glance up at her. “Impressed yet?”

She didn’t budge. “I’m on my side. No one’s.”

Mason continued, spellbound by his scheme. “This way the defenses of each of these systems will be immobilized.” He eyed the tablet. “These little gadgets are magnificent. Just one stroke on the screen. That’s all it takes.” He let out a sneer. “Give Merovec my regards. The coward has let global technology spiral out of control and into the hands of amateurs. It’s time I did something about it. You, on the other hand, Cress, are a weak girl. Who are you anyway against my mobilized army of hackers?” He studied her. “Why would he pick a weakling like you?”

Calla took another step forward.

Mason clicked his tongue. “Fighting me won’t stop my operatives sniffing at everything going on in these organizations, including administering data transfers. This is just dinner. Dessert will be NASA, NSA and Britain’s Government Communications Headquarters.”

Calla halted a couple of feet from him. “What makes you think I intend to fight you?”

Mason tilted his head. “Isn’t that what we operatives have done since Merovec started his movement? Fight to the end! Yes, I figured that’s why you held on to the carbonados. I see that your physical skill has improved somewhat.”

Calla’s eyes drilled into his dark soul. “You forget, Mason. When this conflict began two thousand years ago it was never a physical one. What you don’t realize is that I’ve found the little lab in your house, thanks to Jack. And yes, I spoke to him only a few hours ago.”

Mason lost the grin on his face.

Calla feigned a smile. “Jack placed the three carbonados in your own command center. I then energized and remodeled your software program.” She grinned. “I in turn hacked your little program.”

His eyes glared with fury and disdain.

She sneered maliciously. “Reverse engineering is an incredibly useful skill. I analyzed your program for its vulnerabilities.”

Mason’s face grew ashen. “There are no vulnerabilities in my design.”

“Really? If there’s anything I’ve learned on this journey with the Deveron it’s that knowledge, a.k.a perception, is the greater power of the three dominances.” Calla wasn’t finished. “You see, in this day and age it’s not just physical power that wins the battle.”

Mason winced.

With his guard down she snatched the tablet from his grip with a confident air. “This is the age of technology. Allow me.” She slid her hand over the screen and activated his software program for him.

Mason’s eyes narrowed,

“Here we go. By activating this button I’ve just whitelisted your hackers and enlisted your three thousand operatives to work the reverse on your program. Each offense you intended to create in these corporate computer systems has consumed up your own systems. You see, Nash got to Arlington and Jack got to Kumar and Riche.”

She slanted her head mocking him. “Oops…not too smart for a girl. I’m sorry, I think we’re done.”

 

 

Mason slumped into a nearby chair. All he could envisage was the last look he’d seen on his mother’s face. The Deveron had defeated her and now him.

“It’s over, Masonius. That’s your name isn’t it?”

He raised his head with a flash of anger. “Not so quick, Cress. Like a dragonfly at a bug party I always serve the last course.” He raised his hand from his suit jacket and fired a bullet from a concealed handgun. Calla’s eyes widened as the bullet sizzled toward her head.