Page 96 of The Atlas Maneuver

“You don’t understand.”

“Enlighten me.”

“The mistake came when I chose to exclude the father.”

And she meant it.

It had been a selfish act by a rash young woman thinking of no one but herself. Would things have been different if she’d done otherwise?

Hard to say.

But she probably never would have found herself on that dark road when a deer decided to dart out in front her. And definitely not at the Bank of St. George when the CIA came looking for an alternative to a potential economic disaster. One a tragedy. The other an opportunity. ShewasSatoshi Nakamoto. Creator ofblockchain and bitcoin. But she was also the woman who gave up her child.

“Perhaps you can rectify the mistake regarding the father too,” Lhota said.

Doubtful.

But perhaps.

CHAPTER 53

4:40P.M.

CATHERINE STARED OUT THE WINDOW AS THE JET CROSSED OVERMarrakesh. She loved Morocco. Her parents had been the first to buy an estate there. The purchase made sense as the kingdom was big on investment and low on rules and taxes. The bank itself had maintained a long-standing relationship with the ruling Alawi dynasty, the current king a close friend.

Humans had occupied the land for nearly a hundred thousand years. The Carthaginians, Phoenicians, Romans, and Arabs had all invaded. The first Moroccan state was established in the 8th century. At one time its sultans controlled most of the Iberian Peninsula. Then colonization came and the Ottomans, Spanish, Portuguese, French, and British each occupied parts of it at times. Its strategic location near the mouth of the Mediterranean had always made it politically important, the region a volatile mixture of conquest and trade. It had been an independent nation, beholden to no one, since 1956.

Hundreds of kilometers of Atlantic Ocean coastline stretched along its western border, reaching eastward past the Strait of Gibraltar. The Rif Mountains rose in the northern regions. The Atlas Mountains ran down the backbone of the country, twenty-five hundred kilometers from northeast to southwest. Most ofthe southeast portion was Sahara Desert, sparsely populated and unproductive. The majority of the population lived toward the north, the mountains generally inhabited by Berbers. Especially in the High Atlas where they dominated. A simple people with a straightforward way of life, unaffected by luxuries the world offered. Many lived in houses made of clay with no electricity. Resources were few, but the Berbers had never been dependent on anyone. A healthy, self-sufficient people who appreciated the natural world surrounding them. They took care of themselves.

Her father had loved them.

The jet began its descent.

Lana Greenwell sat toward the rear of the cabin, alone, on one of the leather sofas. They’d said nothing to each other on the three-hour journey. Her mother had remained in Luxembourg. Lana had been terrified of the gun pointed at her, and eventually came along without resistance after Catherine offered assurances.

“You must understand the situation you have placed me in. I have to keep you close so as to avoid any further lapses in security. Surely you can see that.”

“Your mother aimed a gun at me.”

“I know. Please forgive her. But she is protective of me and the bank. I want us to work together tonight. I am counting on you.”

“I want my job back and my money to remain untouched.”

“I will agree, we can discuss that. After the gathering. Provided you work with me tonight.”

All of which had calmed Lana down.

Kyra was on her way with Kelly. Eventually, the problem with Lana would be turned over to Kyra and she’d take care of the matter. There was no way she could ever trust Lana again, and no way could she turn a blind eye to what had happened.

“You have no choice,” her mother had said. “She can, and will, jeopardize everything.”

“You want her dead?”

“It is not what I want. It’s what’s necessary. That woman chose her own fate when she became a traitor.”

True. Without a doubt.

But still regrettable.