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celestial globe to the Vatican?”
    “Have you given any thought to returning the terrestrial globe you stole?” Packard shot back.
    “We’ve been over this, Mr. Secretary. The Masons inherited them from the Knights Templar.”
    “Who in turn stole them from Solomon’s Temple,” said Packard. “So maybe we give them both back to the Israelis.”
    Serena sighed. “Along with another American weapons system, perhaps? That will help the situation in the Middle East.”
    “The only thing you can do to help the Middle East and the rest of the world is to give us the real names and faces of the Alignment’s so-called Thirty,” Packard said. “Before Yeats finds out you’re one of them. Get busy. Here comes Midas.” Packard walked away as Midas approached her.
    “Was that the former U.S. secretary of defense?” Midas asked Serena innocently enough.
    “Yes,” she said. “Confessing all his country’s sins. Do you have any confessions you want to share?”
    “Actually, I was looking for Dr. Yeats. He seems to have disappeared.”
    There was a feigned playfulness in Midas’s voice, but his eyes were hard. He was lying, she realized. Midas knew exactly where Conrad was.
    “So has Mercedes,” she said, and his smile vanished.
    Midas said, “She had a headache. Dr. Yeats upset her.”
    “He has that effect on women,” Serena said when her Vertu phone rang with the song “He’s a Tramp” from Disney’s old Lady and the Tramp cartoon. “Speak of the devil.”
    Midas cocked his head and narrowed his eyes with suspicion as she took the call.
    Conrad’s voice, breathless, filled her ear: “Have Benito pick me up in front of the Andros Palace Hotel in Corfu town in two hours. I need to hitch a ride with you on your jet.”
    “We’re all here for three more days,” she said, eyeing Midas.
    “I don’t think these Bilderbergers like talking to police,” Conrad said. “They’re all going to scram before they give any statements about what they saw.”
    “I’m not sure I understand.”
    “Take a look out at the Midas in the bay. She sure looks like a beauty out there on the water, all lit up.”
    Serena glanced at Midas, then out at the water. “Yes, she does.”
    Suddenly, the superyacht blew up into the night sky like fireworks, drawing gasps from the crowd on the terrace. An explosion like thunder rolled over the bay. Midas crushed his glass in his fist. Wine and blood dribbled through his fingers. Serena watched his face twist into a monstrous mask of rage as the glowing debris of his beloved ship rained down upon the waters.

11
    A panic-stricken Andros was waiting for Conrad at the service entrance behind his hotel. “You blew up the Midas !”
    “Where’s the head of Baron von Berg?” Conrad demanded as they hurried through the kitchen.
    “In your bag in the room’s closet. I couldn’t stand the sight of it. Nor of you now, my friend.”
    They were standing at the service elevator. Conrad, his tuxedo soaked, realized he had been dripping a trail of water behind them. Two Greeks with mops were furiously following in their footsteps. The hotel’s owner, Conrad had heard, was a stickler for cleanliness.
    “All you have to do is smuggle me off the island, Andros,” Conrad said, and pressed the elevator button again.
    “I’m working on it, but the police and coast guard are everywhere now.” Andros shook his head. “You’ve really done it this time, Conrad. Mercedes is up in your room.”
    “What?” Conrad stopped cold as the light dinged and the elevator doors opened.
    “She showed up just before you did.” Andros nudged him inside. “You have to see her.”
    “But Midas sent her.”
    “Of course,” said Andros. “Which is why you have to see her. He must hope to get something out of you.”
    “You mean the ice pick she’ll plant in my back?”
    “Maybe, but you might get something out of her. Meanwhile, give her some disinformation to take back to Midas. I’ll have your