The Genesis Plague (2010)

Agent Flaherty …’
    ‘Tommy.’
    ‘Right. Tommy. First you need to tell me why I should be talking to you.’
    ‘Fair enough.’ He did his best to keep it simple. ‘There was an incident in the Iraqi mountains. Some of our guys were working under cover, patrolling the area. They got into a shooting match with some, how shall we say, hostile locals. An ID card with your name on it was found in the middle of it all.’
    ‘ID card?’ She considered this. ‘Oh yeah. I did lose one of those. It was more like a security badge.’
    ‘That’s a good start. So tell me how you lost it. That way I can explain to my boss how you weren’t associated with the other side.’
    His deadpan expression showed he wasn’t joking. ‘Look … yes, I’d received an offer to assist in an excavation in the northern mountains. I accepted. I arrived there September 2003. The fourteenth, to be exact.’
    This did jibe with the passport activity provided to him. To keep her honest, he jotted down the date anyway.
    ‘All expenses paid,’ she added. ‘It was a great resume builder, an incredible opportunity … especially since Western archaeologists hadn’t turned a shovel in that region for decades … thanks to politics, of course. Since this was only months after the US invasion, everything was very hush-hush. And I wasn’t told anything specific until I’d arrived in Baghdad.’
    ‘Who made you this offer … handled the arrangements?’
    ‘A guy named Frank took care of everything.’
    ‘Frank …?’
    She shrugged. ‘Just Frank. He was a middleman.’
    ‘He funded the project?’
    She gave him a confused look. ‘I was never told who funded the project. Not so unusual. Benefactors sometimes want to keep a low profile. But shouldn’t you guys know this? I mean, why are you asking me ?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    She held out her hands. ‘I thought it was you guys.’
    He returned a blank stare.
    ‘You know, the military, some obscure part of Homeland Security, the CIA, or whatever it goes by nowadays. I mean, I’d been given a military escort … US soldiers wearing desert fatigues with American flag arm patches, the works. You might want to ask your boss about that. Might save you some time.’
    This temporarily stumped Flaherty. If his boss knew anything about it, this visit wouldn’t be taking place. ‘And what kind of work were you asked to perform?’
    ‘What I do best, of course: decipher ancient languages. I was brought up north to the mountains … to a tunnel, or a cave actually, that dated back a few thousand years. The walls were covered in ancient picture carvings and cuneiform. Wasn’t easy, either. That language predated anything I’d ever seen. In some ways, more sophisticated than what came centuries after it. Really incredible stuff.’ She checked to make sure nobody was listening in then said in a low tone, ‘The kind of stuff that would challenge every established theory on the emergence of writing.’
    ‘And what did it say?’
    She bit her lower lip. ‘Sorry. Can’t share. I had to sign a confidentiality agreement.’
    ‘I’ll need to know.’
    ‘Then you’ll want to talk to Frank. Because if I can’t publish in the American Journal of Archaeology or National Geographic , you’ll have to wait your turn.’
    ‘You have a number for this middleman, Frank?’
    She shook her head. ‘Everything was handled by e-mail. The couple times he did call, the number came up “restricted”.’
    ‘Of course it did.’
    ‘Cloak and dagger. Just as you guys like it.’
    ‘You can give me this e-mail address?’
    ‘When I’m back to my computer, I suppose.’
    He dug in his pocket and pulled out a business card, slid it over to her. ‘If you could forward it to me, that’d be great. And try not to lose the card, please,’ he taunted.
    ‘Funny,’ she said. She dropped the card into her clutch purse and snapped it shut like a clamshell. ‘I remember when I lost that ID. Frank freaked out when I couldn’t find it. There was so much equipment in the cave, debris too. Lord knows where it wound up. But he got me a new card within minutes. Super-tight security there. Guys with guns outside, the works. Lots of crazy stuff going on. I’d hear the fighter planes flying overhead … bombings, gunfire off in the distance. Not the safest place to be at that time.’
    ‘Any other scientists there?’
    ‘A handful of others on rotation. Some coming, some going. Archaeologists, mostly. But we were