CHAPTER NINETEEN

September 27, 1:00 P.M.

Cusco, Peru

ZARA SAT ALONE in her room, holding the relic retrieved in the Bahamas, but her thoughts wandered from the object’s unique features. The largest her team had acquired to date, this one harbored a green tint around its eyes. The crystal’s temperature, like the others, never warmed, no matter how long she held and caressed the smooth sculpture. Searching the object’s surface for tool markings, she found no hint as to the craftsmen’s identities. Despite her success so far, her concentration drifted from the artifact’s origin and purpose, honing in on Cash Luker and his betrayal.

Contempt for the man whom she once loved had remained deeply buried for years. The hatred simmered to the surface, consuming her with rage. She had refused to think about him since her staged death, but now he was back in her life. If the tall, skinny man made it out of the tunnels alive, her secret was exposed. No one knew her better than Cash, which changed everything, forcing her to alter the way she operated and exercise additional caution. They had encountered no resistance in acquiring the relics—until Cash entered the picture. Now, one of her team was dead, and the CIA was likely aware she was alive.

They would try to hunt her down, but that didn’t concern her. Except for Cash, no one could match her skill. Being sought again was kind of ironic. Her mind wandered back to how the CIA had recruited her. The first time they wanted her help and this time they would want her dead. At the time, she was in America going to college, and her father was an ambassador to the United States, which is how he had met her American-born mother. She, too, was born in the U.S., giving her dual citizenship. Her mother was a beautiful woman, but too American, despite deep family ties to the Middle East. The CIA believed the fatal accident which claimed her mother’s life while visiting Washington D.C. was orchestrated by her father, but they had no solid proof, and he had diplomatic immunity. Assuming the daughter who had spent much of her life in the U.S. would be bitter toward the man who had killed her mother, they aggressively pursued her, needing someone who could get into an Afghanistan University for a simple one-time assignment. The huge payoff gave Zara financial independence from everyone, including her father, something she coveted. She completed that first assignment to perfection, and after several years of exceptional performance on low-security-clearance missions, providing the agency no reason to doubt her loyalty, she gradually worked her way into more complex jobs. Eventually she was partnered with Cash, and after gaining his trust, the rest were easy. Despite knowing her background, the CIA needed agents who could slip into foreign societies, so becoming a part of the agency had been far easier than most would imagine.

Shaking off thoughts of her past, and of Cash, Zara placed the mesmerizing Bimini skull in its special lead-lined box and returned it to the chest next to the one her brother retrieved in Mexico. Losing one of her team infuriated her, but she never mourned the loss of the weak, it was just nature’s way of weeding out inferior pieces of the world’s puzzle. Fortunately, the departed was one of the Egyptian men recently recruited for the mission, and not her brother. Still, Cash would pay for that crime, along with all those he had committed against her. He had tried to set her up, but she’d been tipped off. He hadn’t even cared enough to hear her side, not that he would have understood family loyalty came before allegiance to any agency or country. He didn’t love her enough to put her before his misguided values. Worst of all, he had left her for dead. For those transgressions, he must die.

As she left the room, locking the door behind her, Zara smiled, glad Cash hadn’t gone to Bimini. A quick death was not enough punishment. She wanted him to suffer the way she had and experience the pain of betrayal. Her father had warned her about loving or trusting any man—she had refused to listen, but would never commit the same mistake again.

“Mustafa, what have you found?” she demanded, entering the common area.

“No new leads on numbers twelve or thirteen, but we discovered two members of Cash’s team left for Argentina. Perhaps we should focus on that one for now.”

“Since they all departed from Arizona, I imagine they have reassembled there. Heinrich, I want you and Marabout to go to Arizona. Mustafa has been to the Navajo woman’s house, so he can brief you on what to expect. Do not make contact, just follow, listen, and attempt to find out if they know anything on the whereabouts of the last three relics. Unless, of course, the opportunity presents itself to confiscate another, and in that case, use whatever means necessary to meet our objectives.”

Heinrich nodded his large shaved head, indicating his comprehension and acceptance of his assignment. He wasn’t thrilled about having to babysit Marabout, preferring to work alone. Marabout wasn’t helpless—he and Ahmed managed to retrieve a crystal in Mexico—but he lacked the willingness to die for the cause. Marabout’s resolve was weaker, and therefore, he added risk and unwanted responsibility.

“Reza and Ahmed, you go to Argentina and track the members of Cash’s team. I have some other business I must attend to, then we will meet back here.”

Zara felt confident Reza and Ahmed could find, follow, and seize the artifact from the two in Argentina. As much as she wanted to go with Heinrich and Marabout to Arizona, her confidence in her ability to avoid confrontation and resist the compulsion to kill Cash was low, and for now she wanted him alive. If Mustafa failed to locate the last three relics and uncover how to unleash their power, she felt certain Cash, with unlimited resources at his disposal, would unravel the secret and lead the way.

She needed time to sort through her feelings and put them into perspective. She never allowed emotions to interfere with a job and wasn’t about to let it happen now, when their goal was within her grasp. Besides, Heinrich was more than capable of handling the surveillance job while protecting her brother. Thinking about how close Marabout had been to Cash made Zara shudder. Fortunately, he survived the encounter. Heinrich was the best, and she trusted him. It had taken her a long time to regain confidence in a man again, after Cash, but Heinrich was more machine than human, which made it impossible to sway his loyalties.

“I’ve done some experiments with quartz crystals, and a lot of research, and I believe the answer to unleashing the power lies in the piezoelectric properties of the crystal. The chemical structure of piezoelectric material allows charges on the surface to shift when mechanical stress is applied, generating voltage,” Mustafa stated, interrupting Zara’s thoughts.

“What exactly does that mean?”

“Pressure distorts crystal, causing unbalanced electrical forces. Mechanical strain can be converted to an electrical signal. It’s a simple and common concept, actually. For example, when you press the button on a cigarette lighter, a tiny spring-loaded hammer hits a tiny piezoelectric crystal, and the high voltage produced ignites the gas as the current jumps over a small spark gap. What I can’t figure out is how we can apply enough stress to cause the massive destruction of legend, or why all of the relics must be used together.”

“Maybe the story is a foolish myth or maybe you just need to create a lighter of epic proportions,” Zara stated as she approached Mustafa and peered over his shoulder at the computer screen. “But, first things first. We need to find the last three relics, then we must solve the riddle of their power.”

“I’m back in communication with Desert Blaze, which is probably my best lead at the moment. I doubt she knows the locations, or she wouldn’t have contacted me. She was fishing, and if she catches anything, Heinrich will be there to reel it in.”

Zara snorted at his analogy. “Your speech is becoming too American. I hope you are not beginning to enjoy their vulgar ways.”

“Not to worry. The world will never be at peace until the Americans are out of the picture, or at least contained. I adopted the Americanized lingo in order to lure Desert Blaze into conversation. She is cautious, so I’ve led her to believe I’m an educated, but harmless Jamaican party boy.”

Zara laughed. “You are many things, my friend, but harmless is not one of them. Guard the crystals with your life and keep searching. I’m going to Virginia.”