Code of Siman (11 page)

“I’m not sure if I’m following you. How are these represented within the pictures?” Warren asked.

“Okay, let me see if I can break it down further.” Natanya reached within her purse and pulled out a used envelope and a pen, then drew examples as she spoke. “Natural Fractals can be seen in cauliflowers and ferns due to their consistent variations within their structure. Like this… Much the same can be said for the shapes within a painted picture. Take for example, a Van Gogh Painting. I believe we’re all pretty familiar with them. Can someone remove a photograph from the album and pass it around…carefully?”

Philippe picked up the album laying it on the shelf, found the section for Van Gogh, and removed a random picture.

“I’m amazed that every picture in the album is indicative of a copied work where the original has been secreted away somewhere. It’s truly, truly incredible. I’m sorry, please continue.” Warren backed up a step and leaned against the rough plaster wall of the kitchen storage room.

“I agree, which is why we risked so much.” Natanya nodded in the direction of Philippe.

“Okay, I’ll try to explain this as clearly as I can. Let’s take the clouds for example, in this painting by Van Gogh, we see numerous swirls. These swirls have a center point and an end point, as well as an angled curve. The measurements of these, when computed, generate a number. The same could be said for the peak of a mountain from its base, or the depiction of water. These are the best examples of Fractals used within a painting.” Natanya looked around for something to drink, but was unsuccessful.

“How do we know which paintings have Fractals?” Pascal asked.

“Which shapes within the pictures are actually clues? This seems like it’s going to be a lot of work.” Philippe whined. “How do we compute the angle without any kind of tools, or machines? No offense to anyone here, but none of us are exactly rocket scientists.” Philippe shrugged, and then threw out his toothpick. “I’m just saying, how are we realistically going to figure this out?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Ideally, an overhead projector would have helped, but Philippe was unable to sneak back into his work to obtain one. Somehow, I need to see the signature, the tiny details within the picture, the Fractals, and the Magic Squares. If we were studying the actual paintings, we would need an X-ray machine as well. But since we have these photographs, along with the negatives, it should be all we need. Well, these along with a few mirrors and lenses we can re-align, a computer, and the software to compute the equations,” Natanya finished.

Everyone turned at once to Pascal and Warren who were both standing by the doorway. “Out of all of us, both of you are still able to have unlimited access to everything.” Philippe stated.

“I can go back to my house for now, and I think I can help out with the mirrors and different powers of lenses. I have an antique set of kaleidoscopes, which can be dismantled, and a pair of Opera Glasses that could possibly be re-worked to fit our needs. I’ll have to return to my house soon, as I have a feeling they didn’t leave me to my own devices, and will be monitoring my activities.”

“I have a laptop, and I do have many software programs I can alter to help us with the mathematical equations.” Pascal offered.

“Did you mention something called Magic squares, and do I really need to know how that works, or will you just tell me you know how to look for those as well?” Philippe asked as he pushed himself away from the wall, placing an arm over her shoulder.

Natanya laughed. “I know how to look for those as well, so no, you don’t really need to know what they are.”

“What I could really use, but am not going to be able to retrieve due to the surveillance, are my notes left to me by my Great Aunt Rose, which described what I should look for. Her notes hinted there would be more there too…”

“Do you think you’re going to be able to decipher the images without your Great Aunt Rose’s notes?” Philippe asked, more serious now.

“I’m going to have to, aren’t I?” Natanya replied earnestly.

“You’ve got this, Nat.” Philippe hugged her to him.

“I hope so…”

“I’m heading back to my place. Where should I meet you?” Warren’s large frame filled the doorway.

“Pascal’s apartment,” Natanya handed an envelope to Warren. “I’ve written the address on this envelope for you. Please hurry; I don’t know how long our luck is going to hold out. I was told by Geoffrey…the security guard at my place of work, that the Signature Art Conservatory and the National Gallery concocted some story about the original Vermeer being sent away for an intense cleaning and restoration.”

“I heard the latest news release…they’re saying there was an error.” Warren added.

“This makes me wonder,” Pascal mused.

“What’s that?” Natanya couldn’t help but ask, impressed that Pascal was able to follow her line of thought earlier.

“If you know that there is a forgery of a Vermeer because you painted it, and they know, but they’re denying it…how many others do they know about?”

Chapter Eighteen
Cool and Austere

“Stop pacing.” Philippe tilted his beret, blocking out all of the natural light to let him sleep.

“If you can’t see me, how did you know I was pacing?” Natanya challenged.

“I just know. That’s what you do when you’re anxious.”

Natanya fell into a nearby chair in the family room of Pascal’s apartment. “Well, I can’t just lie there in some catatonic state and wait.”

“Why not? All the worrying and fretting isn’t going to make anything happen any quicker or differently.” Philippe crossed one tanned ankle over the other.

“I just hate it when you’re right.” Natanya curled her legs up underneath her and stared at the ceiling, then down at the floor at Philippe’s soft leather Italian loafers.

Philippe laughed, “Why are you frowning?”

“You look too comfortable…and your shoes look too comfortable.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Yes…it is, you should be…I don’t know, more concerned.” Natanya unfurled her legs and practically leaped out of the chair.

“Did you want to punch me in the other eye?” Philippe pulled his hat back down again.

“No, how could you think that?” Natanya walked over to Pascal where he sat working through re-adapting a software program.

“How are we doing over here?” Natanya peered over Pascal’s shoulder.

“Good, I think I’ve made some inroads to achieve what I’d like to do.”

“What have you got there?” Natanya looked at what appeared to be lines of script.

“I’m telling the program to read the photograph and generate equations based on shapes that we can point to within the picture.”

“So you are linking scanner software with picture editing software, which can be dumped into mathematical software.”

Pascal turned toward Natanya. “Impressive. That’s exactly what I’m doing.

“That’s amazing. When should it be ready?” Natanya asked.

“Without all the bugs…probably in the next few days. I’d really like to be able to perfect it before we try it out.”

Natanya blinked a few times, frowned, then turned away from Pascal in frustration. “Don’t you guys get it? We have to do this in a hurry! We don’t have time to perfect the program.” Natanya’s voice raised an octave, “Please, let’s just take a photograph or a negative, and put it in the scanner and try it out.”

“The program’s not ready. An improper reading would be a variant of the coordinates, leading to the incorrect location. We could invariably be led on a wild goose chase if I can’t decipher the equations from the images correctly.”

Natanya sunk back down into the puffy vinyl recliner chair, dwarfed within its massive proportions. “You’re right. We should make sure it works correctly before we use it.”

“See, there’s no need to try to speed things up. It could just cause problems for us later,” Philippe added from his comfortable position on the couch.

“Humph.” Natanya pulled the lever on the side of the recliner to release the footrest.

A soft knock on the door sounded, followed by another, but a little louder.

Natanya jumped up out of the chair with the foot rest still extended and opened the door.

“You shouldn’t open the door unless you know who it is,” admonished Warren who quickly entered.

“Seriously?” Natanya looked from Warren to Philippe and then to Pascal.

“Yeah, seriously. There is some suspicious activity in the parking lot across from this apartment building, and I have a feeling this place isn’t going to be safe for much longer. We have to find another safe place to stay.”

“We?” Philippe asked from under his beret.

“Yeah, I ah, wasn’t able to retrieve anything since my house is also under surveillance.”

“Did you go in?” Natanya asked.

“No, I skirted the neighborhood, and found unmarked cars with undercover cops camped outside on my street. I believe they have also planted bugs inside, since there appeared to be a van located down the street with excessive antennas protruding from the roof.”

“Where should we go?” Pascal looked concerned, momentarily halting his programming activity.

“I’ve made a few discreet calls, and if you’ll all work with me a little, I have a plan. But we have to leave now.”

“Now?” questioned the voice under the hat.

“Well, at least we’d be doing something. Come on Philippe, slip on those loafers of yours. We’re going.” Natanya pulled at Philippe’s hand, putting him in the upright position, snatched up his shoes, and then placed them in front of him on the floor.

“I’m bringing the computer, we may need it.” Pascal slipped the laptop and an extra battery and charger into a computer bag, then looked around as though he were forgetting something.

“Clothes…how about packing some clothes,” Natanya suggested.

“I’m telling you, we don’t have time.” Warren strode to the window where he pulled aside the curtains to look out.

“I’ll ah, grab a duffle bag and throw in a few things. I’ll get some things for you too Phil.” Pascal sprinted into his bedroom.

“Great, polyester blends…” Philippe remarked while yawning.

Natanya asked Warren, “Did you pack anything?”

“Yes, I’ve got a few essentials. I didn’t know if I’d end up making it back when I left the house to meet you…so I threw a few things together.”

“So that just leaves me without anything.” Natanya’s shoulders slumped.

“We’re going to need to make a few changes to you and your wardrobe in order for my plan to work, so it’s just as well.”

“What kind of changes?” Natanya narrowed her eyes and frowned.

“You could look very similar to her, if we made a few changes…”

“Ummm, I think I just asked, but really, I think I would need to know what kind of changes you’re thinking about. It is me after all that we’re talking about, and the way you’re talking, it sounds like you don’t mean small changes.”

“We’ll talk about it on the way out. Are you ready in there Pascal?” Warren yelled out.

“Yes, I’m all set.” Pascal had a duffel bag strapped over one shoulder and the computer bag hanging from the other.

“Philippe?” Warren held the front door open.

“That’s it? We’re leaving without knowing where we’re going or what we’re doing?” Natanya asked.

“You have the album, don’t you?” Warren asked Natanya.

“Yes, of course I do. So, what changes are you thinking of making to my appearance?”

“Shhh. The whole point to changing your appearance is to hide you. I have somewhere I need you to go, and you need to look…different than you look now.” Warren sized her up. “Yes, I think it could work.”

The elevator opened before them; they walked silently through the doors, lost in their own thoughts, descending to the lobby.

Chapter Nineteen
Sharp Surface Contrast

“I don’t know how people do this on a regular basis. My head feels numb, and I don’t even look like me! It looks so different.” Natanya complained as she caught sight of herself in the reflection from the smoked glass partitions ahead.

“It looks perfect, stop fussing with it. Someone by the name of Gage is going to meet you at the airport. The passport you have in your hand will get you through security.

“How will I recognize him?”

“He’ll be holding a sign up for you.”

“Okay…”

“Please, Natanya, don’t talk to anyone. About anything. We can’t take any chances at this point. And don’t, under any circumstances, let that album out of your sight,” Warren warned her.

“I’ll be fine.” Natanya turned to wave to Philippe, but couldn’t find him behind the crowd of passengers in the security checkpoint line. Then, she turned back to say goodbye to Warren, but he had also left, threading his way back through the line.

Facing forward, Natanya presented the passport to security and glided through, retrieved her purse and small carry-on from the conveyor belt, put her pumps back on, and placed the sunglasses on top of her shoulder-length dark blonde hair. She then straightened her pencil skirt, buttoned her suit jacket, repositioning the passport into the interior pocket and headed toward her designated gate.

“There’s a shipment leaving in two hours. What we’re going to have to do is blend in with the rest of the crew.” Warren instructed Philippe and Pascal.

“Philippe? You can blend in can’t you?” Warren asked.

“I’m zipped into a workman’s polyester jump suit with an elastic waist, initials of God knows who on my pocket, which happens to be stuffed with a tape measure, screwdriver and assorted pens, and you want me to get comfortable? Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not kidding you. This is crucial. You need to stick with the shipment as soon as the truck arrives and flash these name tags given to me by Tsun Jai.”

“Where is this cargo plane headed to anyway?” Philippe asked.

“The Hermitage Museum. The National Gallery had some paintings on loan, and now they are being returned. Quite frankly, it’s no wonder they didn’t want the news released about the possibility of forgeries; we couldn’t risk it while we were in possession of these paintings. But now…” Warren didn’t finish the rest of his sentence.

“Now that the paintings are being returned, and there won’t be any question as to their authenticity, they have the ability to release the news about the forgery.” Philippe finished Warren’s sentence for him.

“Yes, that’s correct.” Warren was surprised by Philippe’s understanding of the situation.

“The Hermitage is in Russia, which will bring us closer to the location of the one painting we’ve been able to decipher the encrypted codes.” Warren said.

“You think they’ll be able to send us the codes to find the rest of the paintings?” Pascal inquired, looking quite comfortable in his coveralls.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, by the time we start to fly over the ocean, Natanya should be arriving at the Cleveland branch of NASA, after which they will have the use of the highest level technology to obtain whatever they need.”

“Right, but the question is, how are they going to get that information to us here in Russia? We can’t use our phones, and they can’t risk faxing anything…” Warren said.

“That’s not the only way communication works…” Pascal stated.

“Please explain.” said Warren.

“What is and has been one of the main forms of communication…one that you didn’t mention?” Pascal asked.

“The newspaper?” Warren offered.

“Yes, you’ve got it,” Pascal replied.

“A worldwide newspaper that can be seen from anywhere, even in Russia,” Warren stated. “Okay, so a newspaper. How can that possibly help us?”

“You never asked him where he used to work.” Philippe said.

“I’ll bite…where did you used to work?” Warren asked

“Or, what his capacity was. Why he’s so comfortable with programming…”

“I’ll hazard a guess that he worked within the printing department for a newspaper…” Warren identified the plane on the tarmac and directed them toward it.

“Yes, this is why I am currently out of work. Society’s use of the traditional newspaper has diminished. The editor for each section reviews the material, but we created the overall layout. In other words, we control the placement of what has been written.”

“How does that help us?” Warren asked.

Warren reached the cargo plane first, which was being loaded with well-packed paintings and artifacts from the National Gallery.

“I’m with the museum to insure that this shipment reaches the Hermitage without incident. All personnel who have anything further to do with this shipment must report to me,” Warren informed the crew. He took the clipboard listing each of the items, and stood at the base of the aircraft loading dock to begin checking each box before it was loaded.

“Mr. Carter, we have had damage to one of the boxes, if you could inspect that sir.” Warren handed off his clip board to Pascal, indicated that both Philippe and Pascal should stay there, and followed the airport personnel to the truck which was unloading on the tarmac, placing it’s carefully packed items onto a conveyor belt.

“I know how important this cargo is, sir, we had one box that was placed on the belt out of balance and it fell…”

“Looks like it’s just a corner of the box that was impacted. I would say it’s fine. Continue loading.” Warren instructed.

Warren rejoined Philippe and Pascal as they continued to check the box identification against their list.

“We used to joke around sometimes…leave off a few letters, or change a few to spell out a word or two,” Pascal said.

“You did that? I’m surprised.” Philippe smiled at the thought that Pascal would have purposefully created an error.

“If you’re here, and you’re the only one who is capable of doing it, then how…” Warren took back the clipboard, reviewing the previously checked items.

“Who said I was the only one capable of doing it?” Pascal smiled mischievously.

“We would have to include someone else, let them know what we’re doing. I’m not sure if I like that idea…it’s too risky.” Warren shook his head.

“I can have someone meet them each day to receive the coordinates, and my former colleagues will do the rest.”

“Insert it into the newspaper. A newspaper we can pick up in Russia. A purely undetectable method which doesn’t involve any direct contact.” Warren nodded. “This could work.”

“You want me to take the necessary steps to initiate the operation?” Pascal asked.

“I don’t think we have a choice in the matter. It’s the only way to relay messages without contact. We’re talking NASA, and with us in Russia…a call would be traced, and then, just like that, we’re on their radar.” Warren checked the last box, tucked the clipboard under his right arm, and then held out his left arm in the direction of the cargo bay. “Let’s board.”

Philippe gave Warren a dramatic salute, and then climbed up the metal ramp that echoed with every step.

“Blend Philippe…” warned Warren.

“Right.” Philippe reached the rest of the crew first, followed by Pascal, then Warren.

“Are there cocktails being served mid-flight?” Philippe jested with the crew.

“I’m not sure we can accommodate you on this ride fellas. We’ll have to wait ‘til we land. You know, we can’t be too careful. Also on the account of we’ve got a security guard with us…we may be outta luck.” He inclined his head toward the cabin where a uniformed guard sat in the second jump seat behind the copilot. “I’m Jerry, and we got Rodney up at the front with Keith on the other side.”

“Nice to meet you…” Philippe leaned forward to extend his hand and prepared to make their own introductions, until Warren purposefully fell into his side as if off balance, stopping Philippe before he could continue.

“Yeah, I recall seein’ this other fella, but y’all are new to me. Why did they switch their loadin’ crew? Seems to me they always got the same guys comin’ out here from that Gallery.” Jerry asked.

Philippe attempted to get comfortable in his seat, but was unsuccessful. “This is going to be a very long flight.”

“One word for you…”

“I know, blend…”