Red Cicada by Gregg Luke

Author:Gregg Luke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2022-03-02T19:15:16+00:00

Chapter 22

Lance paid cash for a twin queen room at a Travelodge in Ogallala. Over a meal of Chinese takeout, he examined the Rubik’s Cube, making notes on a motel scratch pad and referencing his laptop computer. Some clues were obvious; others were not.

“Why do you suppose he’d include a picture of Lake Julia?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Lana said softly. Lance could see the emotional strain it took for her to look at the picture. Her eyes glistened and her breaths shortened.

“I don’t think there’re any hidden clues in the photo.” Holding the cube closer, he continued. “But there’s got to be some subliminal significance to the shot.”

Lana nodded and wiped at her eyes. “I think you’re right. It was there that we felt safest. We stayed there almost three years. Dad may have included it to let me know there’s hope. That all will be okay, just like it was in Rhinelander.” She paused, then looked up quickly. “That was where he gave me this pendant. He basically told me it would help give me direction and comfort in stressful times.”

“So your pendant may have more to it than just an endearment,” Lance said, nodding. “Anything else?”

She shrugged.

“Okay, then. Let’s move on. I’ve been looking over these maps and letters. I believe TSE, BBU, LIS, and ATL are airport designators.” He turned his laptop so she could see and typed TSE. The main Google hit was a ticker symbol on the New York Stock Exchange for a plastics company. Other hits included the Toronto Stock Exchange and a reference to a creepy infection called transmissible spongiform encephalopathy—the malady that caused mad cow disease. “It’s none of those,” he said as he scrolled to the next page and selected a specific feed.

“TSE is the International Air Transport Association code for Tselinograd.”

“Why is that airport significant?” she asked.

He took a sip of soda before continuing. “Bear with me. It’s now the Astana International Airport, but they kept the old designator. The important fact is that it’s the primary international airport serving Astana, the capital city of Kazakhstan.”

“Okay . . .”

“BBU is the international code for Bucharest Bӑneasa Aurel Vlaicu International Airport in Romania; LIS is the international airport in Lisbon, Portugal; and ATL is Atlanta International Airport in Georgia.”

“Those locations mean nothing to me.”

“They didn’t for me either at first. But I’ve been thinking a lot about this.” Lance pulled up a map of Europe. “If you tie the airports together, from Atlanta to Lisbon to Bucharest to Astana, you’ll see a definite trajectory. It’s not a straight line, of course, but it does head in the right direction.”

“Direction to where?”

“Novosibirsk Hospital, Akademgorodok, Russia.”

She frowned. “Where Dad and Aaron Goodwell went.”

“Exactly.”

“But . . . why?”

Lance showed her the notepad he’d been scribbling on. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think it’s a clue about you.”

“What clue?”

“Where you were born, Lana. Who you really are. Follow me on this. You say you were born in Atlanta. But, as I said, there aren’t any state birth records with your name or your parents’ names.

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