The Cleopatra Cipher: An Archaeological Thriller (Adrian West Adventures Book 1) Page 2

  It took several moments for his words to pierce the fog of her still sleep-addled brain. But once it did, fear bloomed in her chest, along with dread, as dark memories pulled her to the past.

  Another phone ringing in the middle of the night. Her mother answering the call, her face draining of color.

  Not again, she thought, panic gripping her gut. Not Sebastian.

  Sebastian Rossi was like a father to her. He’d been her professor during her graduate studies in ancient languages at Columbia University, becoming a trusted mentor and advisor, and they’d remained in contact long after she graduated and became a consulting lecturer and professor of ancient languages and manuscripts at New York University. She’d even become close with his wife, Mira and their daughter, Celeste. Mira jokingly—and lovingly—referred to Adrian as their bonus adult daughter.

  She and Sebastian were both in Rome for the same conference; she’d sent him an email this morning from the airport wishing him luck at his lecture tonight, something she would have attended, but her flight had arrived after his lecture.

  “What happened?” Adrian demanded, stumbling out of bed.

  “A guest in the hotel room next to his heard signs of a struggle and called the front desk. Security found blood on the floor and Sebastian missing.”

  Panic seared her veins; she hurriedly got dressed as she put the call on speaker. “Why are you there? Isn’t this something the local police would handle?”

  “The detective on duty called me when they found my contact info among his things. He thought that whatever the FBI was talking to him about may be a reason he was taken—if he was taken.”

  “Why was Sebastian talking to the FBI?”

  There was a long pause. “You really should get here, Adrian.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  It didn’t take long to get ready, even though she was rattled. Amazing what sheer panic will do, she thought wryly. She tugged her long dark waves back into a messy bun before grabbing her bag and hurrying down to the lobby, where she had the concerned-looking receptionist, no doubt seeing the panic in her eyes, call for a cab.

  As the cab made its way through the streets of the Trastevere neighborhood toward Sebastian's hotel, frantic thoughts raced through her mind. Had someone abducted Sebastian? Who would want to do such a thing? He was extremely well-liked by his students and other professors alike. He was probably the smartest person she knew, yet he was never condescending, only open and kind with his knowledge.

  Her throat clenched as she thought of Mira and Celeste. They were such a close-knit family; they would be devastated if—

  Not going there. She wouldn’t let herself finish that thought. Maybe he’d simply injured himself and left to get medical attention. She tried to imagine Sebastian walking into his hotel room at any moment, annoyed at the presence of police.

  But her gut instinct, one that had served her well during her days as a criminal profiler for the FBI, told her this wasn’t the case. Sebastian wouldn’t just take off without a trace.

  Something was terribly wrong.

  2:37 A.M.

  After the cab dropped her off at Sebastian's hotel, she identified herself to the harried young officers who stood in the lobby, one of whom led her up to Sebastian's room.

  She spotted Nick immediately among the Italian authorities. He was as boyishly handsome as she remembered, tall and fit, with warm blue eyes and dark hair.

  Nick approached, offering her a small smile before reaching out to give her a firm embrace. She returned it, and a distant emotion stirred in her, bringing up memories of the past. But she firmly pushed the feeling aside. Now was not the time.

  “It’s good to see you, West,” Nick said, resorting to his old habit of calling her by her last name. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips, one which dissipated as she took in the hotel room, which appeared orderly.

  “His bags are gone, along with his cell phone,” Nick said, following her gaze.

  “The hotel security cameras?”

  “Conveniently not working on this floor. The police are talking to security and interviewing hotel guests. But other than the guest who heard the noise and reported it to the front desk, no one reported seeing anyone or anything suspicious. I’m going to reach out to attendees at a lecture he gave earlier tonight.”

  Adrian nodded, considering this. “What were you talking to Sebastian about?”

  “He reached out to us about the theft of the Cleopatra artifacts, offering his expertise should we need it. I told him we have all the expertise we need, we just want leads.” Regret flickered across his face.

  Unease crept down Adrian’s spine. She had heard of the theft; you had to be living under a rock not to. She and Sebastian had exchanged emails when they were initially discovered; his excitement was palpable in his messages, and when they were stolen, he was devastated. Could Sebastian have somehow gotten entangled with the theft of the artifacts? Is that why someone had abducted him?

  “Do you think there’s a link? If he was asking about the stolen artifacts—"

  “I don’t know,” Nick said, heaving a sigh. “We have no leads on the artifacts. And if he was taken because of them—why? What use would the thieves have for him when they already have the artifacts?” He met her eyes, his brows knitted together in a frown. “Do you know if he was working on any special projects? Something that would make someone want to harm him?”

  Adrian crawled through her memories, recalling one in particular. “He told me a couple of weeks ago that he was working on a secret project . . . he wouldn’t tell me anything about it. I thought nothing of it at the time because Sebastian is always working on a secret project.”

  Now Adrian wanted to kick herself for not paying more attention to the hints Sebastian had dropped about the secret project he was working on. This could be explosive, Adrian, he’d said. But Sebastian was infinitely curious and always doing research on some theory, usually revolving around an ancient language that fascinated him.

  An Italian officer approached and pulled Nick away; he gave her an apologetic smile and trailed him. Adrian looked around the room, unable to stop her criminal profiler brain from working.

  Nothing else seemed to have been taken or was out of order. Given how Sebastian's abduction had occurred, whoever did this was highly efficient and had likely done this before. A professional. Possibly a contract job, something typically done in the underworld or organized crime.

  But Adrian had known Sebastian for a long time. He was squeaky clean, without so much as a parking ticket to his name. How would such an individual even know about Sebastian? She thought of the theft of the Cleopatra artifacts, the “secret project” Sebastian was working on. No such thing as coincidence.

  “Sorry about that. Paperwork to be signed,” Nick said, returning. He paused, giving her a grin. “I know you can’t help yourself. You can take the woman out of the FBI, but not the FBI out of the woman. What are you thinking?”

  “That whoever took him is a professional. Look how clean this crime scene is. And no one saw anything. The question is—why?”

  “Exactly,” Nick said, raking his hand through his dark hair, something he did whenever something flummoxed him. “I’m going to head to the office he was using here in Rome to see what else I can dig up.” He studied her for a long moment. “Do you want to come?”

  Adrian hesitated, but only for a moment. She had chosen to leave the FBI and the world of criminal investigation behind, but this was different. This was Sebastian. She wouldn’t be able to rest until she knew he was safe.

  “Let’s go,” she said, already walking out ahead of him.

  THREE

  Rome, Italy

  2:45 A.M.

  “Has the professor been taken care of?” Yara Elmasry asked, clutching her cell phone to her ear as her driver wound his way through the streets of Centro Storico.

  “Yes, my brother handled it as you requested. And he’s
secured, my kukla,” Leonid replied.

  Yara inwardly flinched at his term of endearment for her. the Russian word for “doll.” Though they were lovers, Leonid only served a means to an end; he and his brother, Markos, had come highly recommended from one of her contacts. Efficient and brutal, they’d described both him and Markos. All she’d known about them was that they both had a military background and had briefly worked in foreign intelligence before becoming mercenaries who worked for some of the top names in the underworld.

  When Yara had met them for the first time, she’d seen the lust in Leonid’s eyes and hid away her disgust to use his attraction to her advantage. His brother, Markos, however, had been all business, focused on the task at hand. She trusted him more to carry out the successful abduction of the professor. She had sensed that Leonid was more impulsive and needed to be kept on a tighter leash.

  Men are weak; their lust rules them, Dalal, her beloved friend and mentor, had once told her, when she was younger and so very broken. Use it to your advantage. Always.

  She had once asked Dalal why their organization, an organization led by women for the betterment of women worldwide, employed men. Dalal had merely smiled and told her that men still had their uses, especially when it came to brute force and violence, something that the organization would need to obtain its goals.

  “Good. I’m just returning from a late dinner. I’ll be there shortly,” Yara said to Leonid now. She lowered her voice, making certain it had taken on a seductive air, as she murmured, “I will see you soon, my volk.”

  On the other end of the line, she could hear Leonid’s breath quicken, and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Like most men who only thought with their southern regions, he was far too easy to deceive.

  As she hung up, she felt the concerned eyes of Fairuza, her young colleague, trained on her. When Yara met her gaze, she flushed and looked away.

  “What is it, Fairuza?”

  “How can we be certain Sebastian Rossi will find what we’re looking for? Several of our people looked over the artifacts and could find nothing.”

  “If there is something to be found—and I’m certain there is—Doctor Rossi is the one to find it,” she said.

  Fairuza nodded, but she still looked uncertain. Yara could forgive her for her uncertainty. She had once been like Fairuza, innocent and docile.

  Fairuza was a college student recruited by another member. Her family had disowned her for running away from an arranged marriage to a man thirty years her senior; she’d moved in with an aunt who lived in London. Yara had taken the younger woman under her wing, and Fairuza was almost as close to her as her own mentor, Dalal, had been.

  Grief coursed through Yara at the thought of Dalal, who had died after a long battle with cancer the year before. It was because of her that Yara’s life had changed for the better. Dalal had taken her from the broken young woman she’d been to the determined leader of the secret organization that Dalal herself had once spearheaded. I won’t let you down, Dalal, Yara silently promised.

  When she’d learned of the discovery of the Cleopatra artifacts, she’d arranged for their theft, which had been surprisingly easy. She’d underestimated how bribable low-paid security guards and even museum employees were.

  It wasn’t the artifacts themselves that were her endgame; it was what they could lead to, something she knew about, thanks to Doctor Rossi. And that could change everything for her, her organization . . . and the world.

  She took out her phone, opening the secret folder that contained photos of the artifacts. She ran her fingers over the images, thinking of the immense change they would bring.

  It would be the beginning of a new world order.

  American University of Rome

  Rome, Italy

  2:50 A.M.

  The American University of Rome sat perched on the precipice of the ancient Janiculum Hill, one of the tallest hills in Rome. It was named for the Roman god Janus, god of gates and transitions, from whom the month of January derives its name. Since antiquity, it offered stunning views of the surrounding city; priests would observe the behavior of birds from this hill, using their behavior as omens.

  The campus itself was dotted with two lush gardens, with many of its buildings located along the Aurelian Walls, which were ancient walls of the city.

  Adrian trailed Nick along the path of the old walls until they reached Sebastian’s building, heading up the stairs and making their way down a long corridor until they reached Sebastian’s temp office, which was unlocked.

  Adrian’s gaze swept over the office as they entered, a lump forming in her throat. It was as messy as his office back at Columbia, with scattered papers and folders on every surface and haphazardly piled stacks of books. She’d often teased Sebastian that his office perpetually looked as if a tornado had struck it.

  Her thoughts returned to the excitement in Sebastian’s voice when they’d last spoken, as he’d told her about the secret project he was working on. This could be explosive, Adrian, he’d said, but refused to give her any further information, insisting what he was working on wasn’t yet complete.

  What did you find, Sebastian? she wondered now. And what was it about your discovery that would make someone abduct you?

  Nick was moving around the office, his gloved hands working with efficiency as he looked through the neatly stacked folders and documents on Sebastian's desk. Adrian looked around, her eyes landing on the familiar analog calendar Sebastian took everywhere with him. He refused to use the calendar on his phone or laptop, insisting that he didn’t trust any historian who didn’t use at least one “old-fashioned” item.

  She moved over to it and ran her finger down the entry list, going still as she saw Sebastian was scheduled to meet with Professor Roberta Fields the next day.

  !!Urgent meeting with Roberta!! Talk with her ASAP

  Adrian stilled. She knew Professor Fields; she’d been an adjunct professor at Columbia when Adrian was still a student there. Fields was an expert on ancient Rome and Ptolemaic Egypt. Could Sebastian have shared his mysterious discovery with her?

  “Nick,” she said. “Come take a look at this.”

  Nick approached, leaning in to study the calendar. Adrian met his eyes, her heart hammering. It was the middle of the night, but if Roberta knew what could have made Sebastian a target, they needed to see her—now.

  Nick seemed to read her mind.

  “Let’s go pay Professor Fields a visit.”

  FOUR

  Unknown

  3:02 A.M.

  Sebastian came to with a gasp.

  He looked around; complete and total darkness surrounded him. His hands were bound behind him, and he sat on a cold stone floor. For a moment, he had no idea how he’d gotten here.

  And then the memories slammed into him.

  Returning to his hotel from the conference. The shadow that moved. A man’s low, threatening voice. The stab of pain behind his temples.

  His head still ached, and now panic swelled. He took a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself. Where was he? Who had taken him? He stretched his bound hands out in front of him until his hands grasped what felt like a concrete wall. He stumbled to his feet, relieved that his feet weren’t bound, feeling along the walls, hoping to eventually feel a door.

  But the concrete remained steady, and he wondered in horror if he was being held in some cement-style box.

  “Help!” he cried out, though he knew it was likely fruitless. He heard no sound anywhere, no sign of life. It was as if he were being held in a dark void. “Please!”

  Silence was his only answer. Sebastian sank back against the wall, his pulse thrumming. He needed to calm himself, to think rationally, to stick only to the facts.

  Someone had abducted him from his hotel room. He was still alive, which indicated his abductor needed him alive . . . for now. Why would anyone want to abduct him?

  Even as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer. He knew d
own to the marrow of his bones, as much as he wanted to deny it to himself. I thought I’d been so careful.

  The sound of grinding tore into his thoughts, and it took several moments for him to realize it was the sound of a door being pushed open. A brief shaft of light shone in the room as a male figure entered, closing the door with another grinding creak.

  Sebastian stumbled back on instinct, holding his bound hands in front of him in a protective gesture. He was a fifty-five-year-old professor, hardly in the type of shape to ward off a physical attack, but he would do whatever necessary to protect himself.

  “What—what do you want?” Sebastian demanded. “Who are you? Why am I here?”

  The man didn’t answer, but Sebastian could hear his steady breathing as he approached. Sebastian took another faltering step back, stumbling over his own feet and crashing to the ground, his back hitting the wall hard.

  Still, the man continued his leisurely approach, crouching down before him. He held something up, and Sebastian jerked back, fearing that it was a gun, but he realized it was an iPad.

  Shaking, he watched as the tablet lit up, displaying a video. Sebastian watched with growing horror as he saw that the video was of his wife and daughter. They were in their hotel room, removing items from shopping bags and chattering, clearly oblivious to the fact that they were being filmed.

  Anger overtook his fear, and Sebastian lunged toward the man, but a solid fist in his face had him rearing back, his head landing hard on the floor. He felt the warm trickle of blood on his face.

  When the man spoke, it was in heavily accented English.

  “You will not make any moves toward me again or I will see to it that they are harmed,” he said, his voice ice cold. “Do you understand?”

  Terror coursing through him, Sebastian nodded his head. The man turned the tablet around, tapped on something, then turned it back toward Sebastian.