“Though, in this case,” he said, “maybe someone was trying to hide the most significant clues to their code. To look deeper, I used the same AI program as before, only incorporating a digital technique that mirrors X-rays.”
Jason cast Monk a glare. “And yes, Kat helped me.”
“Of course she did.”
Gray stepped forward. “Enough withhowit happened. What did you discover?”
“Let me show you.” He raised a clicker in his hand and pointed to one of the monitors. “Using this technique, I was able to digitally fade out both the gilded book and the sketch of the church.”
On the screen, the footage from the burning monastery vanished and was replaced with a photo of a yellowed page.
Elle stood with the others and drew closer. If she squinted, she could just make out the phantom image of a splayed book and an outline of a cathedral. They looked like they were hovering over the page. Past them, in the center of the photo, the image of a large compass glowed. Scribbles of writing surrounded it, a combination of Nordic runes, old Latin, and even scientific nomenclature.
Monk whistled his appreciation and clapped Jason on the shoulder. “Kat did really good.”
Jason frowned and shook out of his grip. “I don’t know what any of this means, but on the way to Sergiyev Posad, we can try deciphering it.”
“It’s a start,” Gray admitted. “Let’s just hope our enemies haven’t also figured this out.”
Bishop Yelagin faced the table. “Once we’re in Sergiyev Posad, I should be able to get a small group onto the grounds of the Trinity Lavra without raising attention.”
Sister Anna added her support. “I know several of the nuns at the convent in Sergiyev Posad. Friends, who have no love for Archpriest Sychkin. They can offer additional cover for your group—as few people take heed of us.”
“You’ll need to be discreet with your friends,” Gray warned her.
She gave a bow of her head.
Gray faced the group. “Then we should all get moving before anyone—”
It was too late.
An explosive blast shook the building.
Elle ducked, and Tucker shifted over to shadow her. Dust filtered from the ceiling. Gunfire erupted overhead—at first a few shots, then a furious barrage.
Tucker whistled to his dogs, who burst in his direction.
He then faced her. “Time to go.”
14
May 11, 10:17P.M. MSK
Moscow, Russian Federation
Seichan crouched on a landing in the apartment building’s stairwell. Moments ago, through a narrow window, she had spied the smoky passage of a rocket-propelled grenade. She hadn’t seen it strike, but she had heard its blast.
She grimaced.
I’m too late...
The echo of gunfire reached her, too, muffled by the cement-block walls of the building.
She stared up the steps.
I had hoped for more time.
Earlier, while in the security nest at the Apostolic Nunciature, she had kept a continual watch on the CCTV cameras that surrounded the embassy. Nothing out in the streets had rankled her suspicions. All had seemed quiet.
