The Doomsday Prophecy

by Scott Mariani

  He ignored her and trudged on. Every so often he glanced up at the stars to maintain their northerly course. Alex had said the hotel was fifty miles south of Chinook. It made sense that the closer they got to civilisation, the more likely they would be to come across a road or a farm from where they could work out their next move. And Ben knew that sooner or later he’d need medical attention. Untreated, the wound would fester. He was thankful for the recent tetanus booster he’d had – but he’d seen gangrene set in quickly in lesser wounds than this.

  As he walked he could feel his energy gradually dwindling and the grinding pain in his shoulder beginning to intensify again. He fought the urge to take another painkiller. He couldn’t afford to waste them. There was a lot of distance ahead, and a lot of pain.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The ground sloped steeply upwards ahead of them, rising out of the forested valley, the cold wind whistling about their ears. They walked wearily in silence, and after a while Zoë lost the energy even to complain any more.

  At the base of a towering limestone mountain, fifty metres above the valley, they found a cave entrance shielded from the wind by an overhanging lip of rock. Ben shone the Maglite inside, checking for signs of wild animal habitation. The cave would have been an ideal lair for a grizzly or a mountain lion, but there were no traces of droppings or half-finished kill. Alex and a resentful Zoë gathered dry boughs and fern leaves for bedding while Ben built a fire at the back of the cave, arranged so that the smoke would rise up to the roof and escape through the entrance. He lit the tinder with a match, and after a few minutes he had a good blaze going. Exhausted from pain and drenched with cold sweat, he collapsed on the leafy floor. Alex joined him, frowning in worry as she settled next to him. She felt his brow and ran her fingers through his damp hair.

  Zoë flopped down opposite, ignoring them. She grabbed a blanket for a pillow and lay down. She was asleep soon afterwards.

  Ben prodded the fire with a stick. ‘It’s time for you and me to talk.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what I know,’ Alex said. ‘But it’s not a hell of a lot.’

  ‘Tell me about Jones.’

  She sighed. ‘I was assigned to his unit eight months ago. I never liked the guy. He’s a class A creep. I was about to request a transfer to a different unit when things started getting strange. I was part of a team watching a guy called Cleaver. Phone taps, email intercept, close surveillance, the works.’

  ‘But nobody told you why.’

  ‘The Agency works in mysterious ways a lot of the time. You accept that they don’t always disclose everything to the field agents. But this was different. Only Jones ever saw the transcripts of calls. The rest of us were kept in the dark. I even started listening at doors, and that’s how I knew some agents had been sent to Greece.’

  ‘Marisa Kaplan was one of them,’ he said. ‘Know her?’

  ‘No, but I found her name on a file. One I could have got in a lot of trouble for looking at. She’s ex-CIA. No longer active.’

  Even less active now, Ben thought. He didn’t say anything.

  ‘Then about ten days ago,’ Alex went on, ‘there was this sudden flurry of activity. Jones was all keyed up, on the phone a hundred times a day, real grouchy. Next thing, a team of us were scrambled together and posted up here in Montana.’

  ‘That was when Zoë was brought here from Greece.’

  She nodded. ‘They flew her by private jet as far as Helena, and then brought her out here by chopper. We were told she was a key witness to a terrorist bombing in Greece. But I never bought it. The Agency just doesn’t operate that way. I’ve never seen a holding facility like this. I think they’re using Government resources for their own unofficial business. I was just about to report it to the top level. But I didn’t do it.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘Because of what happened to Josh Greenberg. I didn’t know him well, but he seemed like a good guy. Jones shot him in the face.’

  ‘Jones seems to like shooting people in the face,’ Ben said.

  ‘When that happened, I was just too scared to think straight. I felt isolated. I wish I’d done something.’

  ‘I know the feeling.’

  ‘But I didn’t know who I could trust. Then suddenly the call came through that we were all to fly back down to Georgia. They’d found out about you. You know the rest.’

  ‘I remember you from the day they caught me,’ he said. ‘The look on your face. I could see you were different.’

  She glanced at him. ‘I shouldn’t have let them take you that day. I should have done something.’

  ‘There wasn’t much you could have done. You’d just have ended up like the two cops. These people are killing anyone who stands in their way.’

  She gazed through the firelight at Zoë’s sleeping form. ‘I don’t know what the hell she’s got that they want,’ she said. ‘But they want it pretty damn badly.’

  ‘Maybe more than you know,’ Ben said. He spent the next fifteen minutes telling Alex everything that had happened. Her eyes widened in stunned horror as he described the bombing. Then he went on. One baffling detail after another. Laying it all out. Skid McClusky. Clayton Cleaver. Augusta Vale’s hundred million. Zoë’s discovery. The blackmail.

  She listened carefully to every word. By the time he’d finished, she was staring at him in bewilderment, struggling to grasp the enormity of it. ‘It’s so weird,’ she breathed. ‘None of it makes sense. Why would they want some piece of pottery? Why is some obscure matter of theology important to them?’

  ‘How long was your team watching Cleaver for?’

  ‘Months.’

  ‘So that’s how they found out about Zoë. When she tried to blackmail him, they picked up the phone call. Then when Skid McClusky went to Cleaver’s office to deliver the box, they were already watching. They were the ones who went after McClusky. And if his ex-girlfriend hadn’t turned up, they were going to torture him to death.’

  Alex’s brow crinkled in concentration. ‘So what you’re saying is that the whole thing with Zoë is just incidental.’

  ‘Cleaver is the key,’ Ben said. ‘It all revolves around him. But I don’t think he even knows it. The question is, why were they watching him in the first place?’

  There was silence as they both sat trying to puzzle it out.

  ‘They’re planning something,’ she said. ‘I just know it.’

  ‘Planning what?’

  ‘I wish I knew.’

  ‘Who’s Slater?’

  She looked blank.

  ‘He was with Jones in the hotel. Red hair. Small build. Sharp suit. Didn’t look like a cop or an agent. He’s in charge of it. Jones answers to him.’

  ‘I never heard of any Slater,’ she said.

  His shoulder was cramping, and he tried to make himself more comfortable against the hard wall of the cave. Agony lanced through him like a blade, and he shuddered. He was suddenly terribly weary from the mental effort of trying to work all this out.

  She looked at him in concern. ‘You’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you? There’s some codeine left.’

  ‘Save it for tomorrow,’ he muttered.

  ‘Let me take a look at it.’

  ‘I’m OK,’ he protested.

  ‘I’m not going to let you die on me, Ben. I need you as much as you need me.’ She reached across and started unbuttoning the bloody shirt. He resisted, then relented and leaned back as she drew the shirt off and carefully unwound the bandages. ‘You’ve done this before,’ he said faintly.

  ‘Three years at medical school, before I dropped out to get a taste of adventure, travel the world. Dumbest thing I ever did.’ She shone the Maglite across his chest and shoulder. ‘And you’ve been shot before,’ she added, noticing pale scars on his torso.

  ‘Twice before. That one’s a shrapnel injury.’

  ‘Quite a collection,’ she said. She inspected the wound closely. ‘I don’t think there’s any internal bleeding, Ben. Bu
t we need to get that bullet out of there. You ought to be in hospital.’

  ‘Out of the question,’ he murmured. But he was too weak to protest. Alex bundled a blanket under his head, and he lay back on it as she bandaged him back up, winding the gauze expertly into a tight and secure dressing. Then she helped him get his shirt back on, and draped a blanket across him. ‘We should get some sleep,’ she whispered.

  He watched in the flickering firelight as she made up a bed of fern leaves and settled herself into it. After a few minutes the steady rise and fall of her body under the blanket told him she was sleeping. He lay awake for a long time, listening to the yap of the coyotes in the distance.

  Sometime in the night he woke to see Alex gazing at him in the dying glow of the fire. Her head was resting on her hands, her hair draped across her face. The last of the flames flickered in her eyes. ‘You were dreaming,’ she whispered sleepily. ‘About someone you love.’

  He didn’t reply.

  ‘Are you married?’ she murmured. ‘Is there someone waiting for you at home?’

  He hesitated before answering. ‘No. There’s nobody. What about you?’

  ‘There was someone,’ she said. ‘Back where I live, in Virginia. His name was Frank. I guess we never had much of a chance. It ended a couple of years ago. We never saw each other – he had his veterinary practice, I was always up at HQ or out in the field somewhere. It just kind of died on us.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I suppose I gave my heart to the Agency.’

  ‘I did that once,’ he said. ‘Gave everything I had to a badge. Then you realise one day how little it really means.’

  There was silence for a while.

  ‘Something Jones said about you,’ she said softly.

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said you were one of the most dangerous men alive.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s men like Jones who are the dangerous ones.’

  ‘I saw your file.’

  ‘That’s my past, Alex. It’s not me.’

  She raised her head up a little and brushed the hair away from her face. ‘So who are you, Ben Hope? Really?’

  ‘I’m still working that one out,’ he whispered. Then he rolled over and closed his eyes.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The Richmond House

  Midnight

  Irving Slater’s first reaction, after Jones had sheepishly called him from the hotel to say that Hope had got away with Bradbury and one of the agents, had been stunned silence. That had quickly modulated into pure rage, a blistering superfury that had reduced Jones almost to tears on the phone.

  But now, a couple of hours later, he’d calmed down. Not enough to be able to flop down on the giant sofa opposite the fifty-inch screen. But enough to think clearly and gain a perspective on this whole thing.

  And he’d come to a decision, one that he’d resisted for months but which he now realised he’d delayed for much too long.

  He picked up the phone and dialled. Waited. A voice answered.

  ‘It’s me,’ he said.

  ‘It’s late.’

  ‘Never mind that. Listen. Change of plan. This is getting out of hand. I’ve decided to fast-track the Stratagem.’

  There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. ‘Why now?’ the associate asked.

  ‘Something’s come up,’ Slater said. ‘Something very interesting that suits us perfectly.’ He described it.

  ‘They’ll all be there? Their president and the four members of the Supreme Council?’

  Slater smiled. ‘All right under the same dome. And a lot of other very important people. Talk about giving them a slap in the face, huh?’

  ‘If we can pull it off …’

  ‘Call Herzog. It takes place in three days. Tell him I’ll double his price if he can make the date.’

  ‘You’re sure about this?’ There was a tremor in the associate’s voice. ‘It’s a big step.’

  ‘It’s a very big step,’ Slater agreed. ‘But this is the time. We do this now, or never. “There will be no more delay.” Book of Revelation. See? I read the Bible too. We wait any longer, we’re going to get fucked.’

  ‘This is an important moment,’ the associate muttered. ‘I wish you wouldn’t curse like that.’

  ‘Don’t be so fucking pious. It’s boring.’

  ‘Is Richmond ready for this?’

  ‘He will be. I’ll make sure of that. You worry about your end. Do it now.’

  Slater ended the call. With jubilation in his step he trotted across to the drinks cabinet. Yanked the bottle of Krug out of the ice bucket and poured himself a large glass. He raised the champagne in a silent toast to himself and his moment of glory. Downed the glass in one.

  His heart was beating. He’d done it. No more waiting. He topped up his glass and lay back on the sofa, barely able to contain his excitement. He aimed the remote at the giant TV and stabbed a couple of keys. His favourite satellite porn channel filled the screen, and he savoured that for a while as he polished off the Krug.

  Then the phone rang. Slater muted the groans and gasps from the surround-sound speakers and picked up.

  It was the associate ringing back.

  ‘It’s settled. Three days.’

  ‘Tell Herzog he’s a pro.’

  ‘I think he already knows that.’ The associate hung up.

  Slater gulped down the last of the champagne, wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his silk shirt and dialled a number.

  Jones answered on the third ring.

  ‘It’s me,’ Slater said.

  ‘No sign,’ Jones said, anticipating him. ‘But we’re searching. We’ll get them. It’s under control.’

  ‘I’ve heard that before. And when you do find them, I want them dead.’

  ‘All of them? Bradbury too?’

  ‘Bradbury too.’

  ‘But the ostraka –’

  ‘We’ve gone beyond that now,’ Slater interrupted. ‘The plan’s altered. Jerusalem is going ahead.’

  ‘Jesus Christ.’

  ‘Exactly. Hallelujah.’

  ‘How soon?’ Jones breathed.

  ‘Three days,’ Slater said. ‘So. You find them. And bury them.’

  ‘With pleasure.’

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The sixteenth day

  Ben opened his eyes to the morning light and smelled roasting meat. Alex was squatting down next to the fire, and he saw that she’d built it up and was cooking a rabbit over it using two pronged sticks and a spit.

  ‘Something smells good,’ he said.

  She glanced round at the sound of his voice, and there was genuine warmth in her smile. Her hair was tousled. ‘You’re hungry. That’s a good sign.’

  He lay back against the cave wall, watching the way she was running the fire hot to minimise smoke. The juices from the rabbit were dripping fast into the flames, sizzling and popping. He let his eye wander down the curve of her body, noticing for the first time how attractive she was. She was tall and slender, with an athletic grace to her movements.

  His gaze rested on the butt of the Beretta sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans.

  She seemed to read his thoughts. ‘You can have it back, if you want. I hope you don’t mind that I took it from you while you were sleeping. But Zoë needs to eat. And so do you. You look pale.’

  He sat up slowly. It felt like someone was sawing off his arm at the shoulder with an angle grinder. He reached for the codeine and popped two tablets in his mouth. ‘I don’t mind. You keep it.’

  She smiled. ‘So you trust me now.’

  ‘Do I have a choice?’

  ‘Not really.’ She poked the serrated knife into the rabbit’s flank and drew it off the spit, laid the roasted carcass on a flat stone and started carving pieces off. She offered one to Zoë on the point of the knife.

  Zoë wrinkled her face up in disgust. ‘I’m not eating that.’

  Alex frowned. ‘You’ll need your strength. Looks like we
have a lot of walking to do today.’

  ‘I’m vegetarian.’

  ‘Good,’ Ben said. ‘More for us. But if you think we’re going to carry you, you’re wrong.’

  Zoë pointed at Alex. ‘I’m not going anywhere with her. It’s thanks to her that Dr Greenberg was killed.’

  ‘I didn’t want that to happen,’ Alex said. ‘There was nothing I could do to stop it.’

  Zoë grunted and huddled tighter into her corner. She sat and watched them darkly as they ate.

  ‘Never mind her,’ Ben said. ‘If she wants to starve, that’s fine. This is good.’

  ‘I never shot a rabbit with a 9mm before,’ Alex replied. ‘I was scared there’d be nothing left.’ She wiped her mouth, got up, walked to the entrance of the cave and took out her phone.

  ‘Put that away,’ Ben said. ‘If there’s any signal up here, they’ll track us from it.’

  ‘OK. But as soon as I get to a landline I’m making a call.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Zoë burst out. ‘She’s going to call them.’

  ‘No, little lady,’ Alex said sharply. ‘I’m going to have you taken into protective custody until we can get this whole thing sorted out.’

  Ben shook his head. ‘No chance. She’s my responsibility. She’s not going anywhere near the CIA. I promised her family that I’d get her home safely. That’s what I aim to do.’

  ‘She has no papers. How the hell are you going to get her out of the US?’

  ‘By delivering her to the nearest British Consulate. Her parents can come and collect her.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘And then I’m going after the people who started all this.’

  ‘On your own? You think that’s the solution – killing more people?’