“Are you ready to make the money transfer?” Hajjar asked.

“Once we see the piece,” Kari replied coolly. “And once Dr. Wilde has confirmed that it’s genuine.”

“Wilde?” Volgan asked, shocked. Nina noticed he was suddenly unwilling to look directly at her. “Related to Henry and Laura Wilde?”

“Yes, they were my parents. Why?”

Volgan didn’t answer, but Hajjar impatiently interrupted before Nina could ask any more questions. “The item is genuine. Here.” He placed his briefcase on the table and operated the combination locks. Nina was surprised to see that his right hand was missing, replaced by a steel hook. She couldn’t help staring at it.

“You think I’m a thief, perhaps?” he asked coldly.

“Uh, no, I…”

Hajjar shook his head. “Westerners, always with their clichés and preconceptions,” he said as he opened the locks. “I lost it in a motorbike accident. I am no thief.”

“Well, not the petty kind,” Chase remarked cheerily. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Hajjar paused and glared at him. “Are you trying to insult me, Mr. Chase?”

“Nah. You’d know if I was insulting you.”

“May we see the piece now?” prompted Kari. Hajjar gave Chase a last angry glance before clicking the catch and opening the briefcase.

Inside, resting in a bed of protective foam, was the artifact.

It had to be made of orichalcum, Nina knew. Nothing else would have gleamed with such a unique ruddy glow.

It had been carefully and diligently polished. There was not a mark on it, no fingerprints or smudges. The only flaw was the small nick in one side, from where Volgan had carved a sample of the metal. It was without a doubt the same piece she had seen as a hologram.

And now she could see the whole thing. On its front, directly above the protrusion on the underside, was a small angled slot. And below it were markings…

“Can I examine it?” she asked Hajjar, her voice almost an awed whisper.

“Of course.”

Nina snapped on a pair of latex surgical gloves and carefully lifted the artifact from the briefcase. It was heavier than it looked, consistent with a high gold content. An arrowhead was inscribed into the curved end of the piece, as well as a wavering line with some sort of tiny markings on either side running up its length, but what caught her attention was the lettering parallel to it. She turned the bar to catch the light from the window.

“What are they?” Kari asked.

“They’re Glozel characters, or a very close variant. At least most of them are.” Nina pointed out certain symbols with the tip of her gloved forefinger. “But these are something else. A different alphabet.”

“Do you know which one?”

“It looks familiar, but I can’t quite place it. It’s another variant, though, not a standard alphabet. Maybe a regional offshoot, or something from a slightly different time period? I’d need to check my references.”

“Whatever you need, you’ll have,” said Kari. “But is it a genuine piece?”

Nina turned the artifact over. The underside was just as she had seen in the hologram, the metal nub protruding from the upper end. Apart from that, it was devoid of markings.

Her fingertips pressed against the curved end as she turned it over again.

Sense memory…

The shape reminded her of something, the curve of the metal almost instinctually familiar…

“Dr. Wilde?” Kari lightly touched her arm, and she flinched, realizing she had been staring at the artifact for several seconds, lost in thought. “Is it genuine?”

“Uh, it certainly looks as though it is. But you should really do a metallurgical analysis to confirm it.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t bring my crucible and spectrograph,” Kari said with a faint smile. “It’s your opinion that counts.”

“Okay…” Nina took a breath, her throat dry. Ten million dollars was a lot of money, more than she would see in several lifetimes. “If it’s a fake, it’s a very expensive one. And an extremely well-done one-there aren’t many people in the world who could write in Glozel.”

“You can read it?” Chase asked.

“Parts of it.” Nina tapped at certain words. “‘From the north,’ ‘mouth,’ ‘river.’ I’d say that this line here,” she indicated the marking running down the artifact’s length, “is a map or guide of some sort. Directions.”

Kari beamed at her for a moment before becoming businesslike again. “That’s good enough for me. Mr. Hajjar, you have a sale.”

“Splendid,” said Hajjar, beaming as well, although considerably more rapaciously. “The money transfer?”

Kari indicated for Nina to return the artifact to its foam tray, then closed the briefcase. Nina felt a twinge of disappointment as the gleaming metal disappeared from sight. Chase slid it over to his side of the table as Kari opened her own case.

Nina had almost expected it to be full of banknotes, but instead she saw a piece of electronic hardware the size and shape of a Palm Pilot, with a chunky telephone handset connected to it. Kari picked up the phone and folded out a thick antenna, then pressed a button and placed it to her ear.

“Transfer,” she said when someone answered, then, after a few seconds, “Transfer, account number 7571-1329 to account number 6502-6809. Previously arranged, authorization code two-zero-one-tango-foxtrot. Ten million dollars U.S. ” She paused, listening intently as her words were repeated back to her. “Yes, confirm.” She pressed her right thumb against the blank screen of the device in her briefcase, then nodded at Hajjar.

“I’ll have to use my left thumb,” he smirked, waving his hook hand at Nina.

Kari waited for confirmation of his thumbprint, then nodded to Hajjar again. The Iranian looked immensely pleased with himself, turning to Volgan. “There. Your retirement fund is about to be seven million dollars better off.”

“You’re taking thirty percent?” Chase asked. “Bloody hell! Thought you said you weren’t a thief.”

Hajjar scowled, but said nothing to him, instead turning back to Kari. “Just one thing left to do, Ms. Frost…”

“I know,” she said with a hint of impatience, before switching her attention back to the phone. “Ready for final security check.” She gave Nina a knowing glance before speaking. “‘In the temple they placed statues of gold; there was the god himself standing in a chariot, the charioteer of six winged horses, and of such a size that he touched the roof of the building with his head.’”

Nina immediately recognized it as a passage from Critias, but couldn’t imagine why Kari had quoted it. Maybe it was some sort of password-but wouldn’t her thumbprint and all the other codes she’d given be enough to confirm her identity?

Whatever the reason, it worked. “Thank you,” said Kari, before closing the phone’s antenna. She caught Nina’s puzzled look. “It’s a voiceprint and stress analysis system,” she explained. “The latest security measure. If my voice shows that I’m under stress, that I’m being coerced, the transfer will be canceled.”

“But everything was in order,” said Hajjar. “Thank you, Ms. Frost.” For the briefest instant, his eyes flicked towards the ceiling. “Our business is now successfully concluded.” He turned to leave-

Chase’s hand flashed up, his Wildey aimed right at Hajjar’s head. “Hold it!”

Hajjar froze, his bodyguards following suit as Castille whipped out his own gun and pointed it at them. “What is this?” he hissed.

“Mr. Chase?” Kari asked, concerned.

“Where’s the bug?” Chase demanded. “That was a trigger phrase, you’ve got someone listening to us.”

“I don’t-”

“Tell me where the bug is, or I’ll kill you.” He pulled back the gun’s hammer with an emphatic click.

Hajjar looked up again, breathing heavily through his clenched teeth. “On that beam.”

Chase nodded to Castille, who hopped onto the table and ran his hand along a roof beam. He jumped down a few seconds later with a small black box in one hand. “Transmitter.”