Last Oracle by James Rollins

Author:James Rollins
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Abe noted her confused expression. He pointed to the coin, having studied it before. “That is a chakra wheel. An ancient Hindu symbol.”

But what’s it doing on a Greek coin? she wondered.

“May I see?” Luca asked. He crossed around the table to stare over her shoulder. His body stiffened, and his fingers tightened on the table’s edge. “That…that symbol. It’s also on the Romani flag.”

“What?” Elizabeth asked.

He straightened, his brow crinkled with confusion. “The symbol was chosen because the Sanskrit word chakra means ‘wheel.’ It is said to represent a Gypsy’s wagon wheel, symbolic of our nomadic heritage, while still honoring our Indian roots. But there were always rumors that the symbol had deeper, more ancient roots among the clans.”

As the others discussed the significance, Elizabeth studied the coin in silence, beginning to sense at least one truth.

Gray leaned toward her, reading something on her face. “What is it?”

She met his steely gaze. She held up the coin and pointed to the temple side. “My father pulled strings to get me that position at the Delphi museum shortly after finding this.” She flipped the coin to the chakra side. “At the same time, he started to investigate the Gypsies and their connection to India. Two sides of a coin, two lines of inquiry.”

Elizabeth turned the coin on edge. “But what lies between the two? What connects them?”

She turned to Abhi Bhanjee. He had not told them everything.

“Where did my father go?” she asked with a bite to her voice.

A shout from one of the villagers answered her. A man came running from the outer fires. The music died away—but a distant drumming continued, a heavy beat that thumped to the chest.

Gray jerked up.

Elizabeth stood, confused, and stared out toward the hills, trying to discern the direction of the noise, but it seemed to come from everywhere—then three lights speared out of the overcast sky.

Helicopters.

“Everyone back to the SUV!” Gray shouted.

Abe yelled in Hindi, barking hard orders. Men and women fled in all directions. In the tumult, Elizabeth got separated, spun by passing bodies. Disoriented, she fought to follow their group.

Like diving hawks, the helicopters swept toward the village, then split wide to circle. With her eyes on the skies, she stumbled, but a thick arm caught her. Kowalski scooped her around the waist and lifted her to her toes, urging her faster.

“C’mon, babe.”

He forded through the chaos, a rolling rock.

At the edges of the village, the helicopters settled to a hover. Ropes slithered out from open side doors. Even before their ends reached the ground, dark forms slid down the lines, heavy with helmets and gear.

They would never make it to the SUV.

8:38 P.M.

Pripyat, Ukraine

Nicolas snapped his cell phone closed. So that was one less problem to worry about. He crossed down the hallway toward the gala. Music wafted, a traditional Russian composition from the nineteenth century, “Snegúrochka,” “The Snow Maiden.”

He drew his palm down the lines of his tuxedo. While others dressed in modern couture, Nicolas had handpicked his outfit in Milan, a single-button Brioni cashmere jacket with a peaked lapel and shawl collar.

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