by Jo Black
As they wound their way through the back roads of Ibiza Island, Alex gazed out across the sun-drenched coast and let it wash over him, enjoying the sense of freedom that normality, albeit normality for the one per cent of people who could afford such expensive Italian trinkets, brought.
45
Alex and Zara lazed on a pair of sun loungers sipping their cocktails as rhythmic trance beats pulsed out from the Cafe Del Mar, Ibiza’s partygoers danced on the beach as a deep golden sunset started to sink behind the ocean casting a beautiful glowing warm hue across the island. Zara stared out then reached over, took Alex’s hand, and affectionately squeezed it a little. She smiled softly, perfectly relaxed. ‘Today was a good day.’
Alex smiled back. ‘Yes, it was.’
‘I don’t want it to end,’ Zara sighed.
‘No, me neither.’
‘Do you want to dance?’
‘We’re a little old for that aren’t we?’
‘Rubbish. We’re never too old,’ Zara replied.
‘Wait here. I know the D.J. I have a request.’
‘Not the birdy song.’
‘No...’ Alex got up and walked down to the D.J booth. The D.J greeted him with the bro chest bump and back slap thing that Zara always found terribly amusing, seemingly a completely invented form of male-only hug to avoid any assumptions of homosexuality, but a desire to display a friendship beyond a mere “how are you mate?” handshake. They chatted briefly. Alex looked back at Zara and the D.J smiled as he waved at her. She smiled and waved back. Alex finished their conversation and returned. ‘Shall we?’ Alex led Zara down onto the dance floor by the beach where the ecstasy fuelled partygoers danced under the last of the evening sun, the D.J seamlessly mixed into Paul Van Dyk’s For an Angel. Zara gave Alex a smile and kiss before she closed her eyes and let the beat of the music wash her away with the lapping of the sea on the sand as she felt her muscles unwind and just sway, carried on the hypnotic trance music. She felt Alex pull her hips gently close before he wrapped his arms around her. They danced the sun below the horizon and on late into the night through to the early hours of the next morning.
The Ferrari howled majestically, lighting up the black night behind it with licks of blue and orange tinged flames from its quad tailpipes as it spat out unburnt petrol into its hot exhaust on the overrun between shifts. Zara felt the warm evening breeze flow through her hair as Alex skilfully threaded the Maranello stallion through Ibiza’s mountain back roads with the precision of an expert seamstress threading a needle, the metallic click clack of the shifter on the exposed gate in-between the bark and shriek of the cacophony of race-bred engineering powering the carbon tub car down the winding road towards their islet retreat, their villa shrouded in a soft nocturnal sea mist illuminated by shafts of moonlight atop the dark promontory rock. Alex parked the car on the garage lift. It descended back to its lair before he shut down the engine and let it tick cool. He got out then walked round and opened Zara’s door, offering a hand to steady her as she pulled herself out from the low-slung seat. She walked towards the lift. ‘Let’s take the stairs, I want to show you something,’ Alex said. He held out his hand and she took it, he went through the fire door and led her up the winding spiral stone staircase carved out of the rock — lending it a magical quality of a secret castle. They reached the desired level and Alex led Zara through a centuries’ old wooden door into one of the islet’s many secrets. Zara’s jaw dropped a little in awe as her eyes drank in the room before her. Cut with expert craftsmanship from the rock was an ornate chapel, all the walls decorated with carved murals, and exquisitely carved stone statues of saints. She walked in slowly, as curious as a child, to see the ornate carving of Santa Maria, surrounded by priceless Russian Orthodox icons dating back more than a millennia in age, illuminated only by soft candles. She looked back at Alex; he nodded at her to go on. She walked across to the three books laid atop plinths in an equal line of glass cases — a Bible, a Torah, and the Quran, each ornately bound in ancient leather.
‘Some of the oldest editions in known existence. This mountain has kept them safe for centuries.’
Zara felt somewhat over-whelmed as she stared at the magnificence of the craftsmanship, and the history contained in the books before her. ‘What is this place?’
Alex walked over. He took a pair of thin wax candles from a small box. He bent a knee, made a muttered prayer and crossed his chest before lighting one and placing it gently with the others. ‘It’s where we come to atone,’ Alex said softly. He gave Zara the second candle. Zara took it from him; he stepped away and retreated to one of the simple carved wooden benches in a row, sat down and bowed his head in prayer. She watched him briefly, before averting her eyes, feeling intrusive to her husband’s conversation. She turned her attention to the small pool of spring-fed water. She dipped a finger in it hesitantly to find it icy cool, but strangely comforting. She frowned with confusion a little as she felt the immense sense of peace the chapel exuded. She took a knee and bowed her head, made a cross then lit her candle and placed it next to Alex’s. She walked over and sat next to him, gently, as to not disturb him. Zara bowed her head and closed her eyes. As her mind cleared and thoughts settled, she couldn’t be sure, maybe it was fatigue, or the rum cocktails, but she felt she heard the soft whispered chanting of religious incantations by monks. She felt her body go light, and her mind drift deeper and deeper into this ethereal world then she heard Alex’s voice, seemingly inside her subconscious.
‘Do you hear them?’
‘Yes...’ she replied, breathlessly, afraid to disturb. ‘Who are they...?’
‘The spirits...they watch over this place, protect it. It is a place of great sanctity. Come, let’s leave them for now.’
Zara was snapped back to reality with the touch of Alex’s hand on her shoulder. Her heart rate suddenly quickened back from the sedatory rate it had descended to. He took her hand and led her through the crypt to the adjacent chamber where, illuminated only by candles, in the centre, the pure white marble carving of a knight lay atop of a sarcophagus, his shield engraved with the holy cross of a religious knight’s order, holding his sword on his chest.
‘Who is he?’
‘The first. He brought the first of the books here from The Holy Land during the crusades for safekeeping. They have been here ever since, watched over by an order sworn to protect them and the historical records they contain from destruction.’
‘And now you live here...’ Zara frowned, unable to make the connection.
‘Come, it would be better if we didn’t wake him at this late hour, trance disco was not a thing when he was a resident,’ Alex said with a knowing wink. He led Zara to a cast iron spiral staircase. They ascended to the room above. An ornate room with a central long carved table flanked with chairs, in the middle, a glass window from which the moonlight shone straight through onto the sarcophagus in the chamber below.
‘What is this place?’ Zara asked in a whisper. ‘Is this your masonic lodge?’
‘No...’ Alex smiled. ‘Close, but not quite. This way.’ Alex led her through an ornate door carved from the rock into a library. Its old wooden shelves lined with countless volumes of ancient texts and leather-clad books. At the head of the library, an ornate carved oak table and equally ornate throne like wooden chair, above it, illuminated by a single soft light, a framed, clearly ancient, text written in elaborate calligraphy. Zara walked slowly over and read its Latin inscription.
‘The Guild of Mercenaries. Founding Charter. In the Year of our Lord...’ She looked back at Alex with a frown in disbelief at the date.
‘They were formed before that, but it took them a while to agree terms. Something that hasn’t changed much in the two millennia since.’
‘Why do you have this?’
‘Now that’s a good question...’ Alex said. ‘And a long story...’ Alex walked over and sat in the chair behind the desk. ‘But all the answers are in here.’ He gestured at the walls of
books on the shelves. ‘Near enough two-thousand years of records, we have older, but environmental reasons mean they are now held in special conditions to preserve them.’
‘I don’t understand...’ Zara said shaking her head.
‘You will...in time.’ Zara walked along the lines of books, she went to pull one out and stopped. ‘Go ahead. There is nothing in here that does not belong to you, including me.’ Zara took out the book. ‘Although normally I’d prefer if you wore the cotton gloves provided. Don’t want you getting butter-toast fingers on the only copy of a fifteen centuries’ old artefact.’
Zara opened the book. ‘This is incredible. This collection must be priceless.’
‘Oh, more than you could know. The information in this room has started wars, finished wars, made kings, deposed them... there are secrets of humanity in here that would change people’s understanding of who we are forever.’
‘Why aren’t they in a museum then?’
‘Because they are our secrets to keep. You’re in the secrets business Zara, you know as well as any some secrets have to be kept.’
Zara replaced the book gently. She walked over and sat down on one of the two chairs in front of the grand desk. ‘Why do I feel I’m back at the headmaster’s office at my Catholic girls’ school?’
‘Do you want me to spank you?’ Alex asked cheekily.
‘Only if you want a kick in the balls.’ Zara stared up at the charter framed on the wall. She shook her head. ‘I must be a really shit spy Alex.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because I had no idea...’ she drew a deep breath then stared at him. ‘Who you were.’
‘And who do you think I am?’ Alex asked. Zara read the charter to the end then nodded.
‘The original Special Forces, I mean the real special, special, forces. The crusaders, the mercenary knights of the church, anointed by God to protect The Holy Land and the church.’ She looked at Alex. ‘You are a descendent of God’s soldiers.’
‘Hired mercenaries.’ Alex shrugged.
‘I’ve read the history of the Templar, I have a pretty good idea,’ she said. ‘At least of some of the history. ‘What’s a complete bloody mystery is how it connects to here.’
‘As you can see, it’s been kept well hidden.’
‘I never had you down as religious Alex, beyond the lip service to my Catholic mother so you could get in my knickers at the earliest opportunity.’
‘I’m not especially religious. You have to separate faith from religion. Religion is just a means to create order from chaos, the politics of its day. Constructions to stop what came before Noah’s flood repeating. The holy books...instruction manuals. The mercenaries, the police of the day keeping order. It’s really just an orchestrated set of laws and governance, checks and balances.’
‘So you don’t believe in it?’
‘It would be hard to express it in a meaningful way. But faith in these things helps me accomplish my work, gives me hope.’
‘For what?’
‘A better future.’
‘Well, aren’t you just full of surprises. Why didn’t I know about any of this when we married?’
‘Because I didn’t know.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘After we parted, the journey I took, that was my journey to reach this place. I had to take it alone.’
‘So what, you’re some kind of Born Again Christian?’
‘No, not really. It just took me a long time to understand my purpose, my role, if you will. And to accept it.’
‘Can I ask you a serious question?’
‘Of course.’
‘Are you taking drugs?’ Zara said deadpan. ‘I mean. Whoo-hoo Knights of God. You didn’t just buy this place off the agents, do a bit of opium on a bong, and imagine all this did you? Look what happened to Trevor. Maybe we need to get you checked out...’ Zara shrugged.
Alex smiled. ‘Maybe that’s the truth...’
Zara shrugged. ‘I don’t know babes. I think I’m a bit too pissed on rum and tired to comprehend the historical magnificence of it all. I could spend a year down here and probably not get past the first shelf.’ She turned back to Alex. ‘Why did you show me this?’
‘Because you are you. The spy in you can’t resist uncovering secrets. I didn’t want you to think I was keeping things from you. If this is going to work then we have to be honest with each other.’
‘I agree. I need time for this to sink in. I’d just about come to terms with the fact I loved a bloodthirsty agent of the evil Russian Empire, and now it transpires you might be one of the good guys. I’m not sure about that. I’ve always liked a bad boy. Can we go upstairs? I need to get some air.’ Alex led Zara back down the passage and up the stairs to the villa; they emerged through a door hidden behind bookshelves that opened into their master suite. ‘Secret doors. The perfect spy’s house,’ Zara said with an approving nod. Alex grabbed a bottle of champagne as they headed out onto the main balcony, he poured Zara a glass of Dom Perignon and joined her on the balcony overlooking the sea. ‘This place is unbelievable. I feel like I’m lost in a dream. I’m scared I’ll wake up and I’ll be back in that bloody cell again. Is this place real Alex, or am I dreaming?’
‘What is life, but a dream,’ Alex said.
Zara frowned. ‘Thanks. That’s really cleared things up for me,’ she replied shaking her head. ‘Do you always have to talk in riddles? You’re turning into Nish. Or is that a thing in your secret society? Never mind, I don’t want to know any more about that, you’ve head-fucked me enough for one night.’ Zara sipped her champagne. ‘That’s some good shit right there Mister Green, not quite as frisky as Pavlo’s Vodka Number One, but a little more fragrant on the palate than refined torpedo fuel.’
‘I’m glad you like it.’
‘So what now?’
‘I don’t know.’
Zara gave a knowing smile. ‘Well, you’ve bribed me with diamonds, driven me about in your Ferrari, seduced me with dancing under the sunset on the beach, dazzled my mind with your spirituality and secret lair of wisdom, now lubricated my senses with vintage champagne. I think we both know where you expect this is heading Mister Green...’
‘Do we Mrs Green?’
Zara put the champagne down and wrapped herself round Alex. ‘Fortunately we don’t need to atone for the sins we are about to commit, we’re already married.’
‘Are you sure you want to...’
‘You know how long it’s been since I’ve...you’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’ Zara kissed Alex seductively as she pulled his zipper down. Alex picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down on the bed. ‘Give us your pork sword, you filthy knight of the realm,’ Zara said before giggling.
‘You have to spoil all these moments don’t you?’
‘Come on! Why so serious?’ Zara said pulling Alex down to her and kissing him playfully. ‘You don’t have to seduce me with the romantic hero bullshit Alex, we’re already married. You’ve got me already. Now ravage my body most thoroughly Sir Alex of the Shire. I desire your loins amidst me nethers and am breathless with anticipation,’ Zara said with a shrill voice. Alex shook his head, rolled off her and lay next to her. ‘Hmmph,’ Zara said. She rolled over and pulled his lip down with her finger. ‘Sulky face.’
‘You’re drunk.’
‘No more than usual...’ Zara shrugged. She sighed. ‘You know what I’m like. I deflect my shyness with my humour.’
‘Why are you feeling shy?’
‘It’s been a long time,’ Zara replied. ‘You might of gone off me like that.’
‘How could I ever?’ Alex said running a finger across her cheek.
‘Sooo...?’
Alex kissed her tenderly. ‘Try not to say anything.’
‘Okay...’ she replied as he undid her dress. She drew a deep nervous breath, then bit her lip trying to stop herself but it was no use. ‘RAAAAPE!’ she yelled at the top of her voice before breaking
out in hysterics.
‘Oh Zara for fucks sake...!’ Alex said stopping. ‘Right that’s it, I’m gagging you.’
46
Zara made her way down the large twisting modernist glass open tread staircase to the main salon. ‘Alex?’ she called out, searching the rooms for him before the soft conversation of voices from the large terrace near the salon caught her attention. She made her way outside and down the twisting stone stairs to the large pool deck fronting the sea at the base of the villa. Alex was sat with Nish at a table.
Nish turned around. ‘Morning princess. You had a nice lie in,’ Nish said.
‘What time is it?’ Zara asked.
‘Nearly eleven.’ Zara walked over. Nish got up to greet her. ‘Glad to see you back safe and sound Zara.’ Nish hugged Zara warmly.
‘Hello Harry, you look well.’
‘Surviving,’ Nish replied.
‘So what are you devious characters plotting?’ Zara asked.
‘Just catching up on business Zara, you know how it is,’ Nish replied. Zara walked over and sat on Alex’s lap and kissed him good morning. ‘Glad to see you two are getting along well, I’d be fucking cross if you’d had a row and headed for the divorce courts after all we went through.’
‘Give it a week,’ Zara said playfully. ‘So is this a social call?’
‘A little of both. Just appraising the boss of the goings on.’
