by R D Shah
To say Harker was somewhat bewildered, was like saying the Pope was somewhat Catholic, and he just hoped his expression did not betray what he was feeling. Who the hell were these people? ‘I feel the same way and look forward to getting to know you to.’
Harker caught the amused smile on Brulet’s face from the corner of his eye. Mr Denton was unquestionably finding Harker’s confusion highly amusing.
‘So, Abigail, may we take a look?’ Brulet inquired and was met with an excited nod. With a wave of her hand she ushered them through to a spacious lounge next door. And as Harker entered the room, every question was instantly answered and he gasped.
The glinting brown of eyes of a contented young child stared up at him and he blinked as a smile formed across his tiny lips, waving his arms up and down in excitement.
Harker watched as Abigail scooped the child up in her arms, then made her way over towards them.
‘Here’s the little man,’ she announced proudly and placed the excited infant into Harker’s arms. ‘He has so much energy and such a wonderful temperament. Hardly cries at all.’
‘Except when he’s hungry or has a dirty nappy that needs changing.’ David joined in, smiling as enthusiastically as his wife.
Harker stared down at the small child and only two words came to mind: Thank God. How the infant came to be here, though, was a complete mystery, and it was Brulet who filled in the minutiae.
‘I am sorry that your original case worker Claire Dwyer could not continue at the adoption agency, but she has taken a new position as head of our Irish office. Nevertheless she sends her regards and is happy that Alex will take over.’
‘We understand,’ David replied, ‘but please offer her our thanks for making the adoption process so quick.’
The couple gazed lovingly down at their new charge as Tristan Brulet stiffened and prepared to leave. ‘If you have any questions, feel free to call us night or day.’
It was Abigail who looked up and realised their guests were about to leave. ‘Would you like a cup of tea or anything?’
‘No, thank you. We have a meeting in London later this afternoon but we appreciate the offer. As I said when we spoke earlier, I just wanted to make the introductions. No doubt Alex will be in touch again very soon.’
Harker pulled himself away from the penetrating gaze of the small child in their arms. ‘Yes, I’ll certainly be in touch and I am very happy with what I’ve seen here,’ he replied, feeding into the role. ‘I tend to have a somewhat hands-off approach once we feel happy with the new parents, but I’ll drop by from time to time and can be contacted through the agency if the need arises.’
David skipped ahead of Brulet who was already making his way for the front door and opening it. ‘We look forward to seeing you soon.’
Harker took one final look at the child in Abigail’s arms, and then made his way down the path to join Brulet, who was already waiting on the pavement. He gave a final wave, before the door closed behind them.
‘Happy, now?’ Brulet enquired.
‘Yes, I reckon so,’ Harker replied, then shook his head at what he had just learnt. ‘So am I right in saying the child was never in danger?’
‘None whatsoever. We never had any intention of letting that child anywhere near John Wilcox and his not so merry band of men.’
‘And how about the loss of Templar lives in the war against the Magi?’ Harker asked, ‘was all that made up?’
‘I am afraid that much is very true, but only because it was decided that the Magi had crossed the line, with their grandiose plans with their cloning of the child and their attempted hijacking of the papacy and the Templar council voted that the time had come for end game.’ Brulet explained with a saddened smile. ‘Little did we know back then that the Magi were planning an end game of their own.’
‘And how about the adoption agency? Just a front?’
‘No. Quite the contrary.’ Brulet said, shaking his head. ‘The Templars are involved in and fund many charitable organisations and adoption agencies in conjunction with government departments and the Church.’
‘And Claire? How did she meet with them if she disappeared at the same time the child’s mother died?’ Harker asked, with a splinter of mistrust building in his voice.
‘She never did meet them, but the woman the Evans’s were referring to, one of our operatives, used her name. It seemed the decent thing to do in honouring her sacrifice for the child’s survival and her dedication to the Templars.’ Brulet reached over and squeezed Harker’s shoulder warmly. ‘It is only when we forget the people we lose do they truly cease to be part of our lives.’
In a strange yet pragmatic way the answer made sense to Harker and even though he found himself in total agreement with the Grand Master, there was still something he found perplexing. ‘So, why on earth did your brother let me think the child was in danger? Why not tell me everything from the outset?’
Tristan Brulet eyed him in silence for a few moments, as if grappling for the right words. ‘That is a decision both Sebastian and I tussled with for some time and, if I am being honest it is something I wasn’t going to tell you. But after meeting you last night and, the way in which you have proved yourself throughout this whole fiasco, I decided to revisit my earlier conclusion.’
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper that he held up in front of him. ‘Because of this.’
Harker stared at it for a moment before he realised it was a fragment of parchment, and furthermore identical to the type on which the Secrets of Fatima had been written. ‘The fourth Secret!’ He gasped. ‘So there really were four?’
‘Yes,’ Brulet replied, still firmly holding the scrap between his forefingers. ‘The Magi were not the only ones to receive word of the Fatima prophecies and we sought to acquire them too. Unfortunately, we were only able to lay hands on the fourth and final one, before the Magi had swooped in and discovered the contents of the other three for themselves. As you may already know, the Magi therefore never had any idea that a fourth Secret even existed, and that was a blessing made possible by just one man.’
‘Marcus Eckard.’
Brulet offerd a slow nod. ‘Yes, the late Marcus Eckard, who managed to withhold it from them despite the terrible tortures they inflicted upon him. He could see for himself how important this final part of the prophecy was, and at great personal detriment he kept it to himself and out of the Magi’s clutches. It is because of the fourth Secret, and this alone, that you were so readily invited into the Templar ranks.’
The Templar Grand Master raised the piece of parchment and began to read it aloud. ‘There will be many who seek to pervert the truth of this prophecy I have been entrusted with, and to that end much credence must be given to the one who will thwart such attempts. For, as revealed to me from the virgin’s own lips, it will be an angel who will hark the truth from the heavens, and it is in that harker that we must trust.’
Harker felt his whole body tingle as Brulet passed the fourth Secret over to him.
‘My brother and I debated the true meaning of this for many years and we could never reach a conclusion that satisfied us both… That is until we met you. Since that time Sebastian was convinced that your role in the rebirth of the Christ child and a resolution to the destruction described by the three Secrets was essential. It is this reason you were, will and are given so much trust in this matter, and it is a belief that has been proved right, time and time again. It is also the reason that I entrust the protection of the child’s identity to you alone. Your judgement is final and exceeds even mine.’
Brulet waited as Harker read through the note for himself before continuing with his explanation for his brother’s secretive reasoning. ‘I am not sure what would have happened if the Magi had retrieved all four Secrets, but when you did enter their radar I am sure they would have handled things a little differently. I can only imagine the force they would have unleashed to ensure your demise.’
; Harker was stunned with everything becoming a little too surreal and his hands shook slightly at the thought. There were just too many coincidences to be… well a coincidence, and he thought back to his encounter with Marcus Eckard at Blackwater insane asylum and the patient’s curious reaction when Harker had introduced himself. ‘Harker, Harker, Harker. That name sounds familiar, have we met?’ Had the deranged man recognised him from the beginning? Had it been the reason that Eckard had been so forthcoming in his knowledge of the subject and so eager to disclose it? ‘So why not tell me. It could have helped to know how involved I was.’ Harker asked and still reeling from the apparent connection being made between the prophecy and himself.
Brulet offered a light pat on his shoulder. ‘It is for that very reason that it was kept from you. The knowledge of this fact could have influenced your thinking and ultimately your decisions, and who knows where that would have led. Sebastian believed, as do I, that it was imperative that you be left to decide your actions organically, as it were and without intervention for fear of changing the destiny of the prophecy itself. It was also the reason he decided to keep you in the dark regarding the child’s safety, so as to ensure you maintained the resolve we knew you would need.’
Brulet could see that Harker was looking irked at the idea of having the child used as a carrot, to keep him pushing forward, and he immediately set about rectifying it. ‘Alex, if you had known the child was safe and sound, would you ever have been convinced to go to meet with Marcus Eckard in the first place?’
Harker thought about it for a moment before, with a sigh, he shook his head. ‘No,’ he replied, ‘probably not.’
‘Then it appears that Sebastian was correct in insisting upon it.’ Brulet continued softly. ‘You must remember at that stage, none of us knew anything about the Skoptsy or how exactly the Magi would approach you.’
Harker expelled a deep breath, his mind buzzing with ordered confusion. He offered the parchment back to Brulet, who refused it with his palm raised.
‘You keep it… as a memento. Besides, it is now useless to anyone.’ With that Brulet turned around and began walking away. ‘I’ll be in touch, oh, and you can keep the rental for as long as you need it, just return it when you’re done.’
‘Where are you going?’ Harker called out, a bit shocked at how rapidly the Grand Master was making his departure.
‘There are a few friends living in this village I would like to visit,’ Brulet replied, ‘I spent part of my youth growing up here you know.’
With that Brulet continued along the pavement and Harker waited until he disappeared around a corner before heading over to the waiting Audi. As he got close, Chloe opened the door and got out to meet him.
‘Where has he gone?’ She asked, her face full of curiosity
‘He had to leave,’ Harker replied. ‘Friends to meet, apparently.’
‘Oh, that seems rather abrupt.’
‘Well, as I keep saying, the Templars aren’t the norm.’
She was already nodding. ‘That’s the truth. After all, aren’t you yourself a Templar?’
‘Yes I am.’ Harker smiled.
‘So, are you going to tell me what happened then?’
Harker thought about it for a moment, then something Chloe had said to him a few weeks earlier came to mind. ‘You once made me a proposition to sleep with me… Does that still stand?’
Chloe looked shocked for a moment and then she crossed her arms defiantly and leant back on her waist. ‘If I remember accurately, we thought the world was coming to an end.’
‘True but…’
‘But nothing.’ She said with a smile. ‘Are you telling me I have to sleep with you to find out what happened back there?’
‘No. Of course not.’ Harker replied and looking offended. ‘Still, it couldn’t hurt your chances.’
They both burst out into laughter and Chloe slid her arm between Harker’s.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Harker said, and leading them both towards the centre of the village. ‘I saw a bar at the top of the street. How about we start there?’
* * *
The sun was just setting on the sleepy village of Moreton-in-Marsh when someone knocked on the Evans house’s green door. Wearing a dark suit and shiny brown brogues, the caller waited patiently until the door swung open.
‘Mr Evans?’ The man displayed a wide smile.
‘Yes, can I help?’
‘Mr Denton said you would be expecting me.’
David Evans immediately nodded and waved the man inside. ‘Oh, yes, he said you would be popping by. My wife Abigail is out at the moment, but she’ll be back soon. Please, come in.’
The visitor followed his host into the lounge and over to the cot the child was lying in.
‘Here he is,’ Evans said as the man knelt down to gaze down at the sleeping infant. ‘Mr Denton warned us that you always like to do a final check on any new parents.’
‘That’s true.’ The man pulled aside a long wisp of white hair which had fallen across his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. ‘It is something of a tradition for me.’
David watched him delicately brush a finger against the baby’s cheek and then pull the blanket up higher as if to keep the child warm. ‘We met one of your staff, Alex Harker, and I’m told he’s a good man.’
‘Yes, he is,’ the visitor replied, now standing up. ‘He’s one of our best.’ He turned to face Evans directly. ‘I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention to him that I came here though?’ The man knowingly tapped his nose upon which rested a dark pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses. ‘I wouldn’t want him to think I was treading on his toes.’
‘I understand completely,’ Evans replied and he examined the other man’s face keenly. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but your resemblance to Mr Denton is quite remarkable.’
‘Not at all,’ the man smiled politely, ‘It is a family business.’
‘Ahhh, I see. That makes sense… So is everything OK, then?’
The man stared at Mr Evans blankly for a moment, then he nodded gently. ‘Everything is just fine,’ he declared. ‘In fact, it couldn’t be better.’
Acknowledgements
A special thanks as always to my editor, Peter Lavery, for his patience and continued guidance throughout the writing of this book. I owe you my friend.
My thanks to Tamsyn Curry whose hard work and copy editing skills have made my life as a writer so much easier.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2016 by Urban Fox Press
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © R.D. Shah, 2016
The moral right of R.D. Shah to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781911591689
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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