seemed uncomfortable. A light knocking interrupted them. A student opened the door.
"Excuse me, Professor. This just came for you." He held an express delivery package in his hand.
"Thank you, William." McCullough took the package and placed it with the clutter on his desk.
"Selena, could you take this copy and translate it for me? Write it down?"
"I'd be happy to." She put the papers in her jacket pocket. McCullough saw the Glock in its quick draw holster under her tailored jacket.
"You carry a gun?" He seemed shocked.
"I'm a kind of federal agent now, Kevin. I translate things for the government. They insist I wear it. I'm not sure I'd know what to do with it."
Nick kept a straight face.
"Well." McCullough stood. "I have to get ready for my afternoon lecture. It's good to see you."
"I'll get the translation done in a day or two. We'll have coffee." She paused. "Kevin, it's probably a good idea not to mention this. Nick's right. It might have something to do with why your friend was murdered."
"Yes. All right. Goodbye, Mr. Carter."
Nick glanced back as they left. McCullough seemed dazed, pushing papers around on his desk, looking for his lecture notes.
They came out of Healy Hall and stopped by a large fountain. The sky was clear and blue, good weather after days of gray skies and drizzle.
"McCullough didn't like it when I told him someone might kill for that treasure."
"He's an academic, Nick."
"How does he get anything done in that mess up there?"
Selena was about to say something when the sky detonated in a thunderclap over their heads. The blast knocked them to the ground. The sound rolled away toward the Potomac. Debris rained on the lawns and parking lots and parked cars, rock and smoldering wood and bits of masonry. A flurry of paper drifted down from above.
"Jesus." Nick stood, helped Selena to her feet. Her knee was scraped and bleeding. Screams and shouts came from the building. They looked up.
A large part of the outer wall on the fourth floor was gone. Black smoke poured through the hole. Yellow and orange tongues of flame flickered in the darkness.
"That's where Kevin's office is. Right there."
"Not any more." He sniffed the air. "Smell that? That's an odor tag for Semtex. The package he just got was a bomb."
"Why?"
"Maybe the message he told us about. Someone killed his friend and now they've killed him. What else could it be?"
She felt her jacket pocket and the paper copy of the tablets. "We could have been there when it went off."
"Yeah, but we weren't."
She looked stricken. "Nick, Kevin had a wife and three grown kids. He was a sweet man. I can't believe this. What's so damned important about those tablets someone would want to kill him?"
"I guess we'll find out when you translate them. I'm sorry about your friend."
Selena looked up at the smoke pouring out of the fourth floor. People were streaming out of the building. Sirens sounded in the distance.
"What now?" she said.
"We go back to the Project before the cops get here."
"Shouldn't we tell them about that package?"
"They don't need us to figure it out. We need to talk with Harker."
They got into Selena's Mercedes. A man in a dented white pickup parked two rows away watched them leave. He noted the time and reached for his cell phone.
CHAPTER THREE
Project Director Elizabeth Harker was a small woman. She always dressed in black and white. Today she wore an all black linen suit with a white scarf tie at her throat. The suit matched her raven black hair. Her hair was artfully cut to frame the fine bones of her face. Her emerald green eyes were wide, cat-like. She had milk-white skin, small ears and a slim figure, like an elf or fairy sprite from a Shakespearean tale. Her looks tended to make self-important people dismiss her. It was a mistake they didn't make twice. Harker was no fairy sprite.
Harker's desk was wide and clean. She had a green desk blotter with leather corners. She had an antique ink stand and a silver
"Excuse me, Professor. This just came for you." He held an express delivery package in his hand.
"Thank you, William." McCullough took the package and placed it with the clutter on his desk.
"Selena, could you take this copy and translate it for me? Write it down?"
"I'd be happy to." She put the papers in her jacket pocket. McCullough saw the Glock in its quick draw holster under her tailored jacket.
"You carry a gun?" He seemed shocked.
"I'm a kind of federal agent now, Kevin. I translate things for the government. They insist I wear it. I'm not sure I'd know what to do with it."
Nick kept a straight face.
"Well." McCullough stood. "I have to get ready for my afternoon lecture. It's good to see you."
"I'll get the translation done in a day or two. We'll have coffee." She paused. "Kevin, it's probably a good idea not to mention this. Nick's right. It might have something to do with why your friend was murdered."
"Yes. All right. Goodbye, Mr. Carter."
Nick glanced back as they left. McCullough seemed dazed, pushing papers around on his desk, looking for his lecture notes.
They came out of Healy Hall and stopped by a large fountain. The sky was clear and blue, good weather after days of gray skies and drizzle.
"McCullough didn't like it when I told him someone might kill for that treasure."
"He's an academic, Nick."
"How does he get anything done in that mess up there?"
Selena was about to say something when the sky detonated in a thunderclap over their heads. The blast knocked them to the ground. The sound rolled away toward the Potomac. Debris rained on the lawns and parking lots and parked cars, rock and smoldering wood and bits of masonry. A flurry of paper drifted down from above.
"Jesus." Nick stood, helped Selena to her feet. Her knee was scraped and bleeding. Screams and shouts came from the building. They looked up.
A large part of the outer wall on the fourth floor was gone. Black smoke poured through the hole. Yellow and orange tongues of flame flickered in the darkness.
"That's where Kevin's office is. Right there."
"Not any more." He sniffed the air. "Smell that? That's an odor tag for Semtex. The package he just got was a bomb."
"Why?"
"Maybe the message he told us about. Someone killed his friend and now they've killed him. What else could it be?"
She felt her jacket pocket and the paper copy of the tablets. "We could have been there when it went off."
"Yeah, but we weren't."
She looked stricken. "Nick, Kevin had a wife and three grown kids. He was a sweet man. I can't believe this. What's so damned important about those tablets someone would want to kill him?"
"I guess we'll find out when you translate them. I'm sorry about your friend."
Selena looked up at the smoke pouring out of the fourth floor. People were streaming out of the building. Sirens sounded in the distance.
"What now?" she said.
"We go back to the Project before the cops get here."
"Shouldn't we tell them about that package?"
"They don't need us to figure it out. We need to talk with Harker."
They got into Selena's Mercedes. A man in a dented white pickup parked two rows away watched them leave. He noted the time and reached for his cell phone.
CHAPTER THREE
Project Director Elizabeth Harker was a small woman. She always dressed in black and white. Today she wore an all black linen suit with a white scarf tie at her throat. The suit matched her raven black hair. Her hair was artfully cut to frame the fine bones of her face. Her emerald green eyes were wide, cat-like. She had milk-white skin, small ears and a slim figure, like an elf or fairy sprite from a Shakespearean tale. Her looks tended to make self-important people dismiss her. It was a mistake they didn't make twice. Harker was no fairy sprite.
Harker's desk was wide and clean. She had a green desk blotter with leather corners. She had an antique ink stand and a silver
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