The Blood Code Read Online Free Page A

dazzling smile. The service was there, but even with his high-tech, encrypted phone, it took time to connect to the other end.
    Conrad’s wife, Julia, answered. As young spies in Susan Richmond’s group, the three of them had been stationed together and spent many nights in different parts of the world listening to music, drinking wine, and coming up with new ways to recruit assets for the United States government. For code names to use with the assets, Julia had immediately designated her and Conrad as the ill-fated Biblical couple, Solomon and Sheba. Ryan had steered away from damnation and went with his favorite rock guitarist instead.
    “Sheba, this is Eddie.” He made sure to emphasize the names, even though Julia was no longer a spy, but had defected to the FBI. While Ryan’s secure phone wouldn’t allow their conversation to be picked up by unwanted sources, he wouldn’t jeopardize Julia or Conrad by using their real identities in front of Anya.
    He didn’t trust her and she already knew his first name—what the hell had he been thinking offering that up so easily?—as well as Truman’s, the idiot . “I need to talk to Solomon.”
    Julia hesitated, then said, “Solomon’s not available. Is there something I can help you with?”
    Conrad wasn’t available? A seed of unease opened in Ryan’s gut. Julia must have known Ryan was filling in for her husband, even if she didn’t know details of the op. “Sorry, Sheba. I need to talk to Solomon. Immediately.”
    Julia lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s in the hospital and I can’t talk right now. Neither can he.”
    The line went dead. Ryan held the phone away from his ear and stared at it. Had Julia just hung up on him?
    She would never do that. She would never leave him hanging unless…
    Unless something big was up with Conrad.
    Was he that sick?
    Shit, shit, and more shit .
    Conrad wouldn’t go to the doctor, much less enter the hospital, even if he was dying of bubonic plague. Like Ryan, he hated hospitals almost as much as he hated terrorists.
    Ryan added a new worry to his ever-growing list.
    “Is there problem?” Anya said.
    “No,” Ryan lied. “Solomon’s going to call me—” The phone rang in his hands, caller ID labeling it “unknown number.” Ryan knew who it was. “Back.”
    He punched the connect button. “Hey, man.”
    “What’cha got?” Conrad’s voice wavered ever so slightly.
    The unease in Ryan’s gut expanded. For a second, he forgot about Anya, the cops who were probably still watching the place, and the ICBM launch key in his pocket. A dozen different questions and smart-ass comments ran through his head, all intended to get a rise out of Conrad so he’d know just how sick his friend was.
    But the moment wasn’t right for any kind of personal exchange. The facts, the full story, would have to wait. “An unexpected package arrived here today for you, Solomon , apparently with some information you requested?”
    There was a slight pause. “Where did the package come from?”
    “The Kremlin.”
    On the other end, Conrad did the math. “Attractive package? High end?”
    Ryan stole a glance at Anya. In the bare room, she stood out like a neon sign. A beautiful, sexy-as-hell neon sign with legs that could…
    Black hole alert . He cleared his throat and looked at the cracked and peeling paint on the far wall. His brain started working again. “Affirmative.”
    “Huh. Glad she found you. I meant to call you about this, but I got waylaid by this stupid food…” Conrad’s voice wavered again, like he was straining against some ugly pain. He coughed. “Does the package have something of interest for us?”
    That was an understatement of Russian-size proportion. “Package won’t share with anyone but you.”
    “Ah.” Ryan heard him shift in the bed. “You near the package?”
    “Yeah.” He hit the speakerphone button and held the phone between him and Anya.
    Conrad cleared his throat. “This is Solomon.