Bodie approached the remains of the castle along a narrow, winding path and pulled his jacket tighter around him. “What are we looking for?”
“Just plotting the ley line,” Lucie murmured.
Bodie waited, surrounded by his team. In that moment, perhaps struck by the soul-searching gravitas of the region, he reflected on how far the young, scared orphan had traveled since the day his parents died. Not physically, though he’d journeyed the world, but mentally. From a boy who loved family who then saw that family ripped from him, to a loner, a boy scared to trust, to the man he was today. He didn’t trust easy, but when he did and when people proved they were worthy of it—he gave them everything.
Where do we all go from here?
The question was a constant worry to him. It had nothing to do with Loch Ness or Scotland, and everything to do with their team, their circumstances, their very job. Moving to Mexico had been the right move, he was sure of it. Nobody could have imagined the Illuminati would look so hard for them, or why. Would I do anything similar again?
Bodie blinked rapidly, eyes locked on a distant horizon. The question was active and required an answer. Options were available but much decided on the CIA. Pang and Heidi were hunting them and Bodie wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if they came face to face.
Heidi understood your reasons for leaving her behind.
But did she? To his mind the reasoning was sound, but was it to hers?
“Hey.” Cassidy nudged him in the ribs, snapping him back to reality. “What’s that?” She pointed to the center of the rolling, murky waters.
“That’s a log.”
“Ah, crap. Anyone ever tell you you’re a real fun spoiler?”
“No,” Bodie said, “I never heard that.”
“Hey.” She shaded her eyes. “You see over there? Is that a suspicious ripple?”
Bodie ignored her and turned his attention to Lucie. The historian was standing ramrod straight, the laptop balanced in her hands. Her hair, scraped back into a bun, came free and fluttered across her shoulders, driven by the wind sweeping in off the loch. Standing among them, yet working alone, Bodie was reminded that Lucie lived with a unique fear. Her entire family was dead—all from accidents or natural causes. Lucie thought of it as a curse, constantly wondering when her turn would come.
As he watched, Lucie turned, positioning herself to face the north. A moment later she turned to the south. “People have been plotting ley lines since prehistoric times,” she said. “They planted trees, placed heavy rocks in position and built wells. They made mounds. A major earth energy vortex runs roughly between Eilean Island and Holy Island and passes to the south of Loch Ness... there.” She pointed across the loch. “Sorry, I know it’s a pain but seeing the loch laid out like this, from a mid-vantage point, really helps.”
Bodie nodded. From here, it was a short drive and would help with extra reconnaissance. They took another moment to drink in the view before heading back to the car.
“Sorry, people,” Lucie said again.
“It’s not a problem,” Bodie said. “Pinpointing the exact place is the perfect science we need. There’s no other way to ensure we get the correct ore sample. The crucible, I imagine, needs ten perfect samples. Not eight or nine, or a maybe. We’re a team.” He smiled.
“The best,” Cassidy said.
Bodie made a face. “Not so sure about that. We’re pretty ragtag, I’d say.”
“You mean we make it up as we go along?” Cassidy gave him a look of open-mouthed wonder. “Get the hell outta here.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve always done?”
“We’ve known each other too long. I can’t pull the wool over your eyes anymore. But we do have skills. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Bodie opened the car door. “Let’s go test them, shall we?”
CHAPTER THREE
Heidi Moneymaker could almost see the light dawning on Kenny Pang.
They had taken the Illuminati HQ, driven out the leaders, and killed the majority of its guards who’d stayed behind to defend the escape of their hierarchy. What they’d left behind was a sprawling castle on a shore in Italy complete with a dock, boats and mountain caves. Heidi had been part of a joint operation with Italian security forces and now, along with them, searched the home for evidence, for pointers to where the Illuminati might have gone or what they were working on next.
The reports came in thick and fast. Evidence of satanism. Evidence of human sacrifice.
This was a big, vile chunk of the Illuminati lifestyle that she’d missed. Yes, she’d heard it whispered, seen inklings of it along the way, but never witnessed such dreadful, overwhelming evidence. At heart, these people were deranged killers imbued with a sense of prodigious grandeur.
Heidi was certain they wouldn’t hesitate to carry out any plan, no matter how crazy or perilous, to elevate their place in the world.
Evidence of murder, of torture, of false imprisonment. Ransom. Blackmail.
From papers, documents and just a few computers that hadn’t been erased, the security forces had already put together information on four ongoing operations around the world. Just four. Heidi dreaded to think how many they had missed.
The operation was huge and ongoing. Heidi, Pang and Jim Butcher, their tech from DC, were put up in a local hotel. Heidi stayed as far away from Pang as she could.
The CIA wetworker was wide, tall and mostly muscle. Scars on his face and hands attested to a plethora of old, hard battles. He had a stealthy way of carrying himself. Pang was a CIA soldier, an ex-SEAL, always proud to show off his special-forces tattoo. He’d been attached to the relic hunters team by some nameless boss who wanted to keep tabs on them, who was afraid Bodie and co. would run.
He’d been right. And Pang had been unable to stop it.
Pang had been hostile to her ever since. Heidi, unable to sort through her turbulent, hostile feelings, simply put one foot in front of the other and went wherever the path led. So far, it had taken them to the house of the Illuminati where Bodie had been imprisoned not so long ago.
They stood now in the courtyard of the home, staring up at the battlements. Many had died here when the Hoods put up a fierce fight. Good agents lost their lives. And all to facilitate the escape of some crazy old men and women who thought they were Satan’s chosen ones.
Heidi squinted into the bright blue skies. A white bird flew up there, free, and surrounded by freedom. It represented everything she longed for. But who with? If Bodie had asked her to go with him, would she have hopped aboard that ship or turned him in? Could she leave her estranged daughter behind? The eleven-year-old lived with her father and had no time for Heidi simply because Heidi devoted most of her time to her job. It’s what broke her marriage up.
Jim Butcher stood beside her. Butcher was mostly an office tech, good at his job, and an occasional field agent. He wasn’t fully trained and could, potentially, become a liability if they met unexpected resistance. Butcher wore ill-fitting suits and looked nervous.
“Your phone is ringing,” she said.
Butcher rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket. “I thought it was yours.” He grinned. “Never mind. Hello?”
Heidi listened to him as much for the distraction as anything else, but when he said: “Himalayas? Are you sure?” she focused on his conversation.
“That has to be Bodie,” Butcher said.
Heidi caught his attention with a wave. “What?”
“Hang on.” Butcher finished his conversation before turning to her. “Remember what I found out about the prophecy? The ten shrines or vortices thing?”
“Sure. Bodie and the others are collecting ore from around the world. So far they’ve got four samples, I think.”
“The other locations were Loch Ness, Buffalo Lake in Canada, Easter Island, Stonehenge, Hawaii and the Himalayas. Well, we can rule the latter out now. There’s been a ‘terrorist incident’ in that area.” Butcher’s fingers made speech marks ar
ound the two most relevant words. “Armed men were seen fighting on the slopes of Mount Everest. Helicopters crashed. There are bodies. None, it appears, belong to any of your friends.”
Heidi licked her lips and glanced to left then right. “Don’t let Pang hear you refer to them that way. The bastard will bite your head off.”
“I’m not scared of him. Been dealing with bullies my whole life.” Butcher shrugged it off. “But there’s no doubt Bodie and his team are visiting these global sweet spots, finding these vortices and collecting ore. We have to start taking this seriously.”
“What’s serious?” a nasally voice said from behind Heidi. “That this one’s pining for a thief?”
Heidi gave Pang the finger. “Screw you, Pang,” she said. “I’ve done nothing but help.”
“Spill it, Butcher.”
Pang watched as Butcher explained, the killer’s face scrunched up so that his network of scars appeared to knit together.
“The prophecy is real. The ley lines are real. So is the crucible and what the Illuminati plan to do after they’ve visited all ten sanctum sites.”
“Reaping some sort of reward, wasn’t it?”
“Reaping the reward of the Ishtari,” Heidi said. “And reign through His glorious power.”
“His?” Pang was probably pretending not to understand.
“Satan.”
“Oh, well then. Should I attach an exorcist to the team?”
“Look,” Heidi tried, “the Illuminati are devil worshippers. You’ve seen the proof with your own eyes.” She motioned at the keep. “Believe it or not, that’s their endgame. And if, by some mischance, there is a powerful artifact, ancient weapon or whatever at the end of all this, we have to be there too.”
Pang closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This isn’t Mortal Kombat or Street Fighter, Agent Moneymaker. This is real life.”
“Satan isn’t in either of those games,” Butcher said seriously.
“There are five sanctums left,” Heidi insisted. “Bodie will visit all of them.”
Pang sighed. “You’re suggesting we stake them out? Or just one?”
“I’m suggesting that we help. C’mon, Pang, you saw the Holy Grail. King Arthur and Excalibur. You saw what people did for the hostage diamond. Imagine what they’ll do for the Devil.”
“This Illuminati conspiracy is far worse than anything surrounding Guy Bodie and his friends,” Butcher said. “The information’s out there if you know where to look. This prophecy... it’s existed for centuries. Please, sir, don’t ignore this.”
Pang let out a deep breath and glanced from Butcher to Heidi. Had her words gotten through?
“You know,” she said. “Before Bodie let that rogue team go in Paris, I thought you were warming to the team. There was almost a human side to you, Pang. I saw mercy. I do believe that once I even saw you smile.”
“Bodie is a criminal.”
“Look at all the good he’s done. Atlantis. The Amber Room.”
“He helped under threat. To save himself, all the while plotting an escape.”
“If you believe that then you’re stupider than you look. Guy Bodie and his team are up there in the top one percent of the world’s best thieves. Do you really believe they couldn’t have walked away at any time?”
“I believe that the CIA are far cleverer than you think.”
“Cleverer, no? More ruthless, yes. If I’d gone too and they told you to use my daughter against me, would you? Would you have crossed that line, Pang?”
“I follow orders.” For the first time he looked askance rather than at either Butcher or her.
“Would you have hurt her to force my compliance?”
Pang didn’t answer. His body language was neutral. Time passed. In the end he gripped the bridge of his nose between two fingers then turned to Butcher. “Conspiracy, you say?”
“The Illuminati’s last hope.”
Heidi realized he was probably right. She and the relic hunters had already destroyed their lair and an exhibition gallery in their search for the statue of Zeus, stripping the Illuminati of hundreds of precious treasures and hordes of wealth. Now they’d seized a secondary venue and an important one at that. The Illuminati were on the run.
“Possessions depleted. Guards reduced. Resources diminished,” Heidi said. “If we strike them hard enough now, we can wipe them out of existence.”
Pang narrowed his eyes. “I have to say, there were things in that ceremonial room back there that turned even my stomach.”
Heidi put the memories from her mind. “Then let’s get started.”
Pang turned to Butcher. “Tell me more.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Grand Master,” a voice said.
Bacchus blinked and looked up across the glinting blade. The sacrifice struggled, but was firmly strapped down as Bacchus bent to his task.
“This interruption had better be earth shattering,” Bacchus said.
Adelaide, a High Minerval of the Great Order, walked toward him. To be fair to her, she looked like she’d just dragged herself out of bed. “Not quite,” she said. “But it is good news.”
Bacchus straightened, patted the sacrifice on the chest and looked the man straight in the eyes. “You are lucky,” he said. “You get to anticipate meeting the Great Dragon a little while longer.”
Adelaide hurried toward him, still in her sleepwear: a black silk kimono emblazoned with red symbols that swept the floor in her wake. The kimono contrasted with her long red hair which, at this time, was hanging down to the small of her back.
“Grand Master,” she said, “we have collected ore from the Himalayas. That is now six samples in preparation for the crucible.”
Bacchus smiled and crossed to a stone chair. They were standing in the principal dungeon of a castle most didn’t even know was there. The castle was brand new, built inside another dwelling and camouflaged by that building. It wasn’t huge, nothing like the Italy residence, but it did possess all the amenities Bacchus was used to, including dungeons, sacrificial chambers, satanic artwork and barracks for his depleted Hoods. It also contained several escape passages.
“I do like this dungeon,” he said, crossing his legs.
Adelaide sat beside him on the seat and cinched her kimono at the waist. “We are close,” she said.
“Yes, and what is next?”
“Loch Ness. Hoods are en route.”
“A favorite of mine,” Bacchus said. “But I haven’t been in years.” His gaze drifted back toward the sacrifice. “Is that it?”
“I can see you’re busy. Is the Grand Dragon pleased?”
Bacchus sighed. “Pleased but never satiated.” He pointed at the gray stone walls festooned with all manner of torture instruments, each one hanging from its own hook. In front of them were infernal devices, all of which held several fond memories. Bacchus went over to stand by the iron maiden.
“Do you remember that sea pirate who tried to hijack one of our ships? Oh, what was his name? The man cried after just twenty seconds in the maiden. He—”
“Strode,” Adelaide said. “His name was Strode.”
“Yes! Strode. The perforations were barely an inch deep. I remember laughing so much, opening the maiden to see his naked body speckled with red, the blood already dripping. He made so much noise we had to sew his lips together.”
“The Italian princess.” Adelaide smiled in fond memory. “She so hated those pliers.”
Bacchus shook his head. “Ah, yes how the mighty fall to the Great Dragon. I recall a pair of reporters. I don’t remember their names, but on the rack... two extra notches every day, one in the morning and one at night. Oh, how they begged toward the end.”
Adelaide let out a snort of laughter. “Ah, I’d forgotten that. Good times.” She threw a glance around the room. “This is our last haven.”
Bacchus gestured at the wall above her head. “The Great Dragon always provides.”
Adelaide looked up. Bacchus w
atched her take in the enormous canvas hanging there, a depiction of Satan slaughtering God’s angels. It was a bloody piece. It was triumphal, full of promise and inspiration.
“The sight of the Great Dragon’s victory stirs my heart,” Adelaide said.
“Perhaps you would like to remove that kimono,” Bacchus said. “I am feeling somewhat stirred myself.”
Adelaide gave him a coy smile. “Here? In sight of the sacrifice?”
Bacchus nodded. “On top of him, as he bleeds to death.”
“A wonderful idea.”
Together, they crossed the room to the enormous stone altar to which the sacrifice was strapped. Adelaide climbed up first, laying her head close to the man’s naked groin and looking up at his as Bacchus positioned himself.
A moment later, Bacchus plunged his knife into the sacrifice’s stomach. Blood welled.
A discreet cough came from the doorway. “I have news,” a male voice said.
“Oh, Discord,” Bacchus said, glancing up as he removed Adelaide’s kimono to expose stunning flesh. “We were about to copulate, to further satiate the lust of the Great Dragon. Would you care to join us?”
Discord strode toward them, already unbuckling his belt and pulling his shirt over his head. “For the Great Dragon,” he said.
Bacchus watched the sacrifice bleed out, his ardor rising in time to the man’s pain, until lust overcame him. With the quest for the ten ore samples going so well, it was a good day to be alive.
*
Hours later, as the sun set over a distant set of misty, rolling mountains, Bacchus realized the sacrifice’s dried blood was still on his hands. He was standing at a picture window, looking out over a deep valley. It was a quiet time of night, peaceful, the view loaded with enough hazy mystery to stimulate his mind with ideas. Bacchus liked to plan for the future.
The Illuminati Endgame (The Relic Hunters 7) Page 2
