The Atlantis Code by Charles Brokaw Page B

didn’t know what Ivan and the children were going to do, and he couldn’t imagine the pain they were going through.
    Thinking about their loss sparked Lourds’s own determination. He couldn’t allow the killers to go free. With renewed deliberation, he turned his attention back to the travel agencies.
     
     
    Standing in the hotel lobby, Leslie felt uncomfortable, feeling she stood out like the Sunday morning date still in her Saturday night clothes. She wanted a shower and a change of attire, but her reporter’s instincts were firing on all cylinders.
    So was her paranoia.
    While waiting for the connection to be made over her sat-phone, she tried to organize her thoughts. When the switchboard operator answered, Leslie asked to be connected to Philip Wynn-Jones, her supervisor.
    “Wynn-Jones,” he answered in that quietly controlled voice he had.
    “Philip,” Leslie greeted. “It’s Leslie Crane.”
    Wynn-Jones’s smile sounded in his voice. “Ah, Leslie. So good to hear from you. I was so sorry to hear about Kale. Thanks for your work down there in keeping our crew alive. Your heroics have generated a lot of publicity for the coming program. Speaking of which, I’ve been looking at the dailies on your program there. Cracking good job. I think it’s going to be absolutely brill. Your Professor Lourds is quite cinematic. The camera seems to love him.”
    “Thanks,” Leslie said. “I think so, too.” She hesitated, unsure of what to say next or how to get there.
    “What’s on your mind?” Wynn-Jones asked. “I can always tell when you’re trying to work out an approach. It’ll save us both some time if you just spit it out.”
    “There’s a new wrinkle. The show may be on hold for a few days,” Leslie said.
    Wynn-Jones became quiet. He didn’t like going over budget or past due dates. “What’s going on?”
    Quickly, Leslie outlined the events of the latest tragedy in Russia.
    “Are you sure these two artifacts are related?” Wynn-Jones asked when Leslie had finished.
    “Lourds thinks so.”
    “And he’s going to Moscow to follow up on this?” Wynn-Jones asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Hmmmm.” Papers shuffled at the other end of the connection. “This affair seems to be getting interesting. We do have some leeway in our schedule, I suppose. You’ve actually gotten ahead of production. Do you know how long the professor’s trip will take?”
    “I want to go with him.”
    That seemed to have shocked Wynn-Jones for a moment. “You?”
    “Yes. Me.”
    “Whatever for?”
    Leslie took a deep breath. “Think about it, Philip. I found a mysterious artifact, and armed hooligans showed up to steal it as soon as I brought it to the one man who could decipher it.”
    “You’re putting an awful lot of stock in this professor of yours.”
    “Yes, and you know why. You liked his credentials, even before the chance to cover a big story was presented to us.”
    “ ‘A big story?’ Aren’t you being a little premature?”
    “Think of it. Two unusual ancient artifacts surface, half a world apart, maybe related somehow. Two murders occur in less than a week, along with armed break-ins and the thefts of those very same artifacts. If it’s the same person responsible, or even two groups that were sent by the same person, they’ve killed professionals connected to the artifacts on two different continents.” Leslie stared at the hotel desk and mentally crossed her fingers. “It’s a
huge
story. So far, nobody but us has connected it. Philip, we’ve got the inside track on this so far.”
    Wynn-Jones sighed heavily. “We’re not a news agency.”
    “I realize that.” Leslie scarcely contained the excitement that clawed at her.
He hasn’t said no!
“What we do have here is a chance to seize the spotlight for a moment. If Professor Lourds is able to ferret out the secret of the bell and the cymbal, wouldn’t that be a fabulous piece of luck? Plus if we have a criminal conspiracy surrounding