Manzak looked surprised. ‘Is that so?’
Jones nodded. ‘Simply put, you guys collect foreign intelligence, evaluate it, then send your theories to D.C. in one of these snazzy manila folders.’
Manzak ignored the last part. ‘Of course, it’s not as easy as it sounds. Sometimes it takes years to get a task done. For instance, we might smuggle an agent into a country, let him become a part of the system, then go back to him much later to find out what he’s learned. Sometimes months, sometimes years. That’s why in certain situations we’re forced to use more efficient techniques, ones with a quicker rate of return.’
Jones grinned. ‘Torture?’
‘You’ve heard the saying, If I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Well, that’s how we get some of our best intel. We provide a favor – weapons, cash, whatever – and get data in return.’
Payne groaned in understanding. ‘And let me guess, D.J. and I are the favor.’
‘Not just a favor, a big favor. If you catch Boyd, you’re helping more than just Spain. You’re helping us as well because we’ll hold Boyd over Europe like mistletoe, then see which country kisses our ass first. And the best part is we don’t have to risk any operatives to complete this mission. You gentlemen can do all the dirty work for us.’
‘That is, if we agree to do this. You see, there’s still one thing that bothers me. I take it there’s no way the Spanish government is willing to put our agreement on paper.’
‘That’s correct, Mr Payne. No paperwork on this one. It’s safer that way.’
‘Safer for whom? What’s to stop them from arresting us again the moment we find Boyd?’
Manzak shrugged. ‘And what’s to prevent you from going home the moment you leave this facility? The answer is nothing. But I’ll tell you this: I think Spain is showing a lot more faith in you than you are in them. With your military backgrounds, you guys could disappear if you wanted to, and there’s no way they could come to the U.S. to get you back. So what have you got to lose? If you take their deal, they’ll let you walk… And if you don’t, they’ll let you rot.’
16
The police in Orvieto could not be trusted. The city crest on the side of the helicopter was proof of that. But how far did the conspiracy run? Could Boyd and Maria trust the cops in the next town? There was no way of knowing, so they decided to take a two-hour bus ride to Perugia, a city of over 150,000 people, and seek the protection of a much larger police force.
After settling into the backseat, the duo glanced out the window and searched for flashing lights, men with guns, or anything that seemed suspicious. Yet nothing disrupted the quiet serenity of Orvieto except the loud exhaust of the bus.
Once they cleared the confines of Orvieto and headed toward the Italian countryside, Boyd was finally able to relax. His breathing returned to normal. The color reemerged in his cheeks. The knot in his stomach began to loosen, and his racing heart slowly slid from his throat.
Suddenly reenergized, Boyd removed the cylinder that he’d rescued from the Catacombs and stared at it. To him, the unearthing of the Catacombs was an event that would rock the archaeological community for decades to come. But the discovery of Orvieto paled in comparison to the item in his hand. If the Roman cylinder actually contained what he thought it did, the entire world would sit up and notice, not just a bunch of professors from the world of academia.
Front-page news all over the globe. Boyd’s picture on every magazine cover.
Before he got too excited, he realized he had to make sure that the promised treasure was actually inside. While Maria took a nap next to him, he held the cylinder next to the window to see if he’d missed anything in the gloom of the Catacombs. With the exception of the engraver’s inscription, the object was completely smooth, containing no ridges or flaws of any kind. Both ends appeared solid, as if the metal had no seams. But Boyd knew that wasn’t the case.
The artifact from Bath had looked solid as well, yet after running it through a series of tests, he discovered that one of the ends was covered with enough metal to keep air and moisture out but not enough to make it impenetrable. All he needed was a screwdriver, and he’d be able to pierce the metal top, then peel the surface back like the top of a can of nuts.
Desperate, Boyd glanced under his seat, searching for something to break the seal. Next, he checked the video camera bag, but all of the fasteners were made of plastic, which was way too flimsy to penetrate the top.
Bloody hell, he thought to himself. This cylinder is the key to everything. There has to be –