“Why—what’s wrong?”

“Violin was correct. That was a Red Knight you faced in your hotel and another one who killed the Omidis. That means Arklight is involved. Get out of that house immediately and call me from the CIA safe house.”

“Why—”

“Go!”

Chapter Forty-three

Chapter Forty-Three

The Hangar

Floyd Bennett Field, Brooklyn

June 15, 2:25 a.m. EST

Mr. Church set the phone down and stared at it. His hands were balled into fists on top of his desk blotter.

Then he snatched the phone up again and punched a speed dial.

“Yo,” said Aunt Sallie after two rings.

“Auntie, the situation in Iran has just gotten significantly worse.”

“We’re hunting nukes, Deke, how much fucking worse can it—?”

“Captain Ledger is being hunted by Red Knights.”

There was a stunned silence on the phone, and then Aunt Sallie whispered, “Oh my God!”

Chapter Forty-four

Chapter Forty-Four

The Warehouse

Baltimore, Maryland

June 15, 2:26 a.m. EST

“Wait,” said Bug, “what?”

“Those pages,” said Circe. “I recognize them. They’re from an ancient codex called the Voynich manuscript. I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t think so,” said Bug dubiously. “Rasouli seemed to think this was the Book of Shadows.”

Circe shook her head. “You’re wrong, Bug. That’s the Voynich manuscript.”

“What is the Voynich manuscript?” asked Rudy. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s an old ciphertext,” Circe said as she accessed a browser and went to one of the university research sites she subscribed to. In a few seconds a screen came up with THE VOYNICH MANUSCRIPT MYSTERY in bold letters. She went through the directory and pulled up several scans of individual pages. The pages were crammed with writing in a language none of them knew.

Bug whistled.

“Well I’ll be damned,” murmured Rudy.

Circe pulled up more pages, and some of these had pictures. Plants, naked women, celestial diagrams. The drawings were primitive, but they were orderly—even if the sense of order was elusive. Then she found one that matched a page from Rasouli’s files.

“See? I was right,” Circe said triumphantly. In a few minutes she matched seven of the nine pages, but then she frowned as she ran through every single page of the manuscript. “Wait … did I miss them?”

“No,” said Bug. “The last two pages from Rasouli’s file aren’t in the Voynich thingee.”

“Slow down,” begged Rudy. “What is this?”

Circe took a breath. “The Voynich manuscript is a mysterious book that dates back to the fifteenth century. Radio carbon dating put it somewhere between 1404 to 1438 C.E., and from the materials used it’s believed that it was created in northern Italy, which was a very important and wealthy part of Europe at the time.”

“Who wrote this book?” asked Rudy.