False Prophet

by Richard Davis

  ‘Mort, I really do know what you mean,’ I said. ‘I went after Samuel like I did because I felt I had no choice, and I stand by that decision. But now all this damage has been done – it’s not easy for me to stomach, either. And the faces of those people suffocating on the train – those faces will haunt me forever.’ I paused. ‘This guilt was a torture Drexler designed for me but I’ve brought you in on it, too. I’m sorry.’

  He ground his teeth. ‘Well, that’s the crux of it. We’re not responsible, Drexler is.’

  I’d told myself the same thing over and over. It didn’t dispel the guilt.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated.

  He grunted. A grunt that said he could cope; that we didn’t have time for hand-wringing.

  ‘If we’re not telling Parkes about The Order, then you need a plan of action,’ he said decisively. ‘But before you tell me your next move, tell me, what happened in New York?’

  ‘It’s bad, Mort. Real bad.’

  ‘Do I want to know what you’re about to tell me?’

  ‘It’s bad.’

  ‘Go on…’

  ‘It’s my son. He’s part of The Order.’

  There was a heavy silence.

  ‘Tell me from the beginning.’

  I told him about my arrival in Manhattan; my discoveries in Room 502; my detonating the Semtex to throw Drexler off the scent; and, finally, my rescue of Spender.

  ‘So you’re with a cult defector, Drexler thinks you’re both dead, and you’re laying low in Stonington?’ he said, after a brief pause. ‘And you’re hoping this ex-cultist will point you in the right direction?’

  He sounded doubtful.

  ‘She mentioned the existence of Order safe-houses,’ I replied. ‘I haven’t had a chance to ask further questions – it’s a sensitive situation. But I reckon she may know the location of key cult strongholds. Perhaps Samuel’s whereabouts. Perhaps Drexler’s.’

  ‘And we still can’t tell Parkes about The Order because Vann will die?’

  ‘Right. If we tell, Drexler will realize I’m still alive, or will assume I told somebody in the Bureau who’d kept it secret up till this point. Either way, I’ve no doubt it would be enough for him to carry out his threat. And I reckon he won’t hesitate to kill Samuel, too. We know he’s not fazed about slaughtering his own loyalists.’

  ‘What exactly do you hope to do about Samuel? The boy… well, he’s a terrorist.’

  ‘I can’t just leave him to die. He’s still my child.’

  ‘All terrorists are somebody’s child.’

  ‘Don’t pretend it doesn’t make a difference.’

  He groaned. ‘So what do you hope to do?’

  ‘Get him back, Mort. Get him back.’

  ‘Even if this woman leads you directly to Samuel, it’s not going to be easy,’ he said. ‘He won’t come peacefully… and we know from the bomb he’s been wearing that he’s probably willing to give his life for this cause…’

  ‘But I have to try. Right?’

  He grunted. ‘If the Bureau figure out he’s a terrorist, you won’t just have to worry about Drexler killing him. The Bureau’ll hunt him down.’

  ‘I know. So I have to try to get him back myself. What choice do I have?’

  ‘Your choice is simple,’ he said calmly. ‘Either you hang up your gloves and tell Parkes about The Order – which means throwing Vann and Samuel to the wolves – or you squeeze the right information out of your ex-cultist and act on it immediately.’ He paused. ‘Though if she doesn’t have the right information, then the decision’s made for you. If the trail’s gone cold, then you might as well tell Parkes about The Order and give her a fighting chance of averting any further atrocities.’

  I contemplated this a moment, then said forcefully, ‘I will get the right information from Spender. And then, after calling Parkes first thing tomorrow and telling her I have no intention of turning myself in, I will act.’

  Mort was quiet a moment. ‘Keep me updated, Saul.’

  ‘I will.’

  *

  I finished the phone-call feeling shell-shocked. But after I came downstairs and tucked into the meal already on the dining table, I soon started feeling better. And once again, I was glad of Lilly’s company. But I knew this relative good-feeling couldn’t last – I had urgent questions. And when we finished eating, at about nine o’clock, I finally bit the bullet, and steered the conversation sharply in that direction.

  ‘Lilly, listen, I need your help. My son’s been converted to The Order. My best friend’s been taken hostage… will you help me?’

  Immediately there was a change in her body language. She tensed-up and started trembling slightly. Her face flushed.

  ‘I’ll try,’ she said softly.

  ‘Please, put yourself in my shoes,’ I persisted, ‘and think what it must be like to have loved ones threatened like this.’

  She nodded almost imperceptibly. ‘I’ll try,’ she said, with a little more force this time.

  All the same signs of fear she’d displayed in the car were reappearing. But I had anticipated as much, and had already decided to power through.

  ‘What I need, Lilly, is information. In the car you mentioned Order safe-houses. Now, I’m assuming these are properties owned by the Order, but whose existence are unknown to the authorities. If this is the case, and you know the location of any of them, I need to know, okay? Because I need to find Samuel or Drexler – or both. I understand you’re scared of what might happen if you tell. But I promise you you’ll be fine. I’ll protect you.’

  She breathed heavily, then said, ‘Okay. I know of one house, only one, in Boston. I visited it once, with Drexler, almost a year ago. It was home to ten Order members, one of whom was a member of the Inner Sanctum…’

  She trailed off.

  ‘It’s okay. You can tell me.’

  She looked at me, then glanced down at the table.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I repeated.

  ‘Ten Order members live there,’ she said slowly. ‘And the Inner Sanctum member is your son.’

  This was a major breakthrough. But though her discomfort was building, and she was clearly struggling to keep herself under control, I couldn’t stop there. I needed more.

  ‘The address,’ I said gently. ‘I need the address, Lilly.’

  She looked at me like she was about to speak. But then, suddenly, she got to her feet and shook her head.

  ‘I can’t do this,’ she exclaimed, ‘I can’t.’

  Then, before I could respond, she dashed out the room, and I could hear her rapidly mounting the stairs and slamming a bedroom door behind her.

  I leaned back in my chair and reflected. What Spender had just said was promising – it seemed as if she knew where Samuel lived. And not only was I not worried about getting the address out of her, I was also not particularly taken aback by the fear she was exhibiting: after everything I’d seen of Drexler, I’d have been surprised if she wasn’t scared of antagonizing him. But what I was worried about was the prospect of entering a safe-house containing nine cultists in an attempt to remove my hostile son.

  But worse than this prospect was the possibility that Spender’s information was stale; the possibility that, almost a year on, Samuel was no longer living there. Because if this was the case, and Spender knew no further information, then the trail had gone cold…

  With that thought, I made my way upstairs to an empty bedroom.

  *

  Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on my door. The next thing I knew, Lilly was in my bed. She was looking for comfort; for some escape, if only temporary, from everything. I craved the same things. But then it turned hot and frantic, as though the end of the world was upon us. Maybe it was.

  Chapter 30

  Friday, March 1, 2013.

  I woke at 5:30 a.m., dressed without waking Lilly, and crept out the room. Then I booted up the desktop computer in the living room, and started downloading and installing the software requir
ed to place untraceable calls. Once the software was ready, I plugged in a headset, and dialed Parkes’s number. She answered immediately, sounding wide awake and alert.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s Saul.’

  There was a tense pause.

  ‘You’re not using a telephone,’ she said.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘If I wanted you to know that, I’d have used a telephone.’

  Another pause.

  ‘You need to come in, Saul.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen.’

  ‘I’m not asking you. You’re coming in.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Parkes took a labored breath. ‘I’m sure it’ll come as no surprise to you that I’ve spoken to eye-witnesses, and know you had prior knowledge of all three incidents: Durham, Mineral, and Manhattan. And yes, I’ve spoken to Olivia, too, and have seen the note from your son – so don’t bother telling me why you did it. It doesn’t fly.’

  I said nothing. She continued:

  ‘You need to come in, Saul. You need to tell us everything you know and everything that’s happened to you. Then you need to explain yourself. Why you thought it was okay to solicit Vannevar Yeung’s help, and why you stole HRT property. Why Yeung seems to’ve vanished, and why you left a rifle lying about Manhattan. Why a bomb went off in The Essex House, and why the remains of a body were found among the rubble… Why you withheld information which could’ve averted three major terrorist incidents.’

  She said this with awful calm.

  ‘My son was taken hostage,’ I replied squarely. ‘What did you expect me to do?’

  ‘You arrogantly withheld information because you knew you’d be sidelined if you told the Bureau. For that reason alone, you put hundreds of lives in jeopardy. It was beyond reckless. You will be held to account.’

  ‘You know only half the story.’

  ‘Is that so?’ she said darkly. ‘Well then, I’d love to hear the other half.’

  ‘On the day I returned to DC I received a message from Ivan Drexler. It told me a number of things. Firstly, it disclosed some extremely pivotal information. Secondly, it told me that he had Samuel, and would kill him immediately if I told the FBI this information. Thirdly, it told me that if, by midnight March 4, I’d failed to rescue Samuel, he would be executed.’

  Parkes breathed deeply, processing the information. I knew what was coming.

  ‘It still doesn’t fly,’ she said calmly. ‘You didn’t have the authority to make that kind of decision. It wasn’t your place to prioritize Samuel over the lives of so many others. You were out of line.’

  Intellectually, I understood her point. But on an emotional level, I snapped.

  ‘So you just wanted me to sacrifice my son, is that it?’ I growled.

  ‘I can’t have a terrorist’s leverage over one agent jeopardize the entire nation’s security,’ she said coolly.

  ‘It’s just a numbers game to you, isn’t it? You’re happy to sacrifice one man for “the greater good.” But it’s a human being you’re sacrificing – it’s not that simple.’

  ‘My job is to protect the country. It involves making difficult decisions.’

  ‘Well, believe it or not, sacrificing my son wasn’t a decision I was prepared to make.’

  Another tense pause.

  ‘So this note you received,’ she said slowly, ‘you say it disclosed pivotal information. I’m guessing this information, if it included details of the attacks over the past few days, wasn’t limited to that, otherwise you’d be able to admit it now.’

  I said nothing.

  ‘Well?’ she said.

  ‘My situation hasn’t changed. If I tell you, Samuel dies.’

  Parkes hissed through her teeth. ‘Look, my patience is wearing thin. I know the note disclosed information about The Order of Babylon. And to save you the effort of feigning ignorance, yes, I’ve spoken to Todd Lamphere.’

  Suddenly, my heart was in my throat. How did Parkes know about The Order? If it was anything less than Drexler disclosing this information, and Parkes took action, then Drexler would assume I’d spilled the beans. That spelt major trouble.

  ‘Okay, it’s true, I spoke to Todd Lamphere about The Order of Babylon,’ I said evenly, giving nothing of my panic away. ‘When did you speak to him?’

  ‘Last night, when I approached him for a run-down on this cult. But lo and behold, Saul Marshall had already paid a visit the previous day, asking the same questions on my behalf which was, of course, news to me.’

  ‘So if Lamphere didn’t tell you, how did you find out about The Order of Babylon?’

  ‘How do you think?’ she snapped. ‘There’s been another murder. This time, a woman called Sylvia Lofthouse in Hastings-on-Hudson, New York. They stripped her, tied her up, trailed electrical fencing between her legs, then force-fed her water. You can guess what happened next. But Lofthouse wasn’t just anyone: she was the chair of a small group called Concerned Family and Friends which has been opposing The Order of Babylon for years. The note left at the scene read: The Grand Reveal.’ Parkes paused. ‘So it transpires that all these kids we thought had gone missing had in fact joined this cult. The members of this anti-cult group were the rare few who’d figured out where their children had gotten to. And now one of them’s dead – yet another tragedy that might’ve been avoided had you come forward.’

  This was a lot to take in. Drexler had finally revealed The Order to the authorities. And this was unsettling. It meant he now believed disclosing this information was no threat to whatever plans he still hoped to achieve. But at the same time, I felt relieved. Because although this murder was yet another burden on my conscience, it seemed both Vann and Samuel would live another day. Drexler still had no reason to kill them before midnight of the 4th.

  ‘The note specifically mentioned The Order of Babylon,’ I conceded.

  ‘Good of you to let me know,’ Parkes said sarcastically.

  ‘I did what any father would’ve done.’

  ‘Do you even have a clue where Samuel is now?’

  ‘I haven’t seen him since Mineral. They paraded him before me when I was bound and drugged then drove him away.’

  I was happy to tell Parkes this much, but had no intention of telling her about Samuel’s conversion to The Order. I had enough to worry about without the FBI hunting Samuel on a shoot-to-kill basis.

  ‘And that’s when you lost Agent Yeung?’ she probed.

  I sighed. ‘Yes. They drove him off, too.’

  ‘Where did they take them?’

  ‘They didn’t seem too keen to tell me, funnily enough,’ I said facetiously.

  ‘You’ve got to come in and tell us this in full. I’m not scared to take you in by force.’

  ‘We both know you don’t have the spare manpower,’ I replied.

  There was yet another pause. But when Parkes finally broke the silence, her tone surprised me.

  ‘You need to give yourself in,’ she said gently, almost maternally. ‘Yes, there are going to be repercussions – big ones – you know that already. But if you don’t give yourself in, there may be far bigger repercussions.’ She sighed. ‘You betrayed me these past two days, Saul, but I’ll tell you this out of respect for the professional relationship we once shared. People are talking about you here. They’re suggesting that perhaps… well, that perhaps you’re involved in The Order of Babylon. That perhaps you’re running it.’

  ‘Ludicrous,’ I whispered.

  ‘I agree. But for those willing to entertain the idea, there’s a convincing case to be made. The cult seemed to come into existence roundabout when you took time-off from the Bureau, and it would explain how you knew about all of these attacks beforehand. And an event like the cult handing you over to the police in Mineral could’ve been a ruse to make it appear as though you’d been outmaneuvered by the cult, when in fact you’re orchestrating events. When in fact you’re orchestrating
everything—’

  I broke in. ‘Ludicrous! You’re buying into this?’

  ‘I’m not buying into anything,’ she said calmly. ‘But there’s talk.’

  At first, I’d been numbed by this news. But suddenly it started hitting home: there were people at the FBI who thought I had it in me to slaughter innocents by the dozens. And I was more than angry, I was bitterly hurt.

  ‘Enough,’ I shouted. ‘Enough. Let me make one thing absolutely clear: there’s not a chance in hell I’m coming in to cooperate with people who think this of me. Tell them they can shove their conspiracy theories where the sun don’t shine because I don’t have time for this bullshit. Goodbye, Lucinda.’

  And with that, I hung up, took myself upstairs, and shook Lilly awake.

  ‘Lilly, I need that address.’

  Chapter 31

  Lilly sat up, immediately wide awake, nodded once, then said:

  ‘Nine Columbus Square.’

  Already Lilly had readopted her closed-up body-language; but this time there was a new look in her face – like she’d now resolved to tell me what she knew.

  ‘Thank you, Lilly,’ I said meaningfully.

  She nodded again, seriously, then continued:

  ‘It’s a terraced house, four stories plus a basement. When I visited with Drexler, we entered via the backdoor, which leads into the basement. They use this door instead of the front because it’s hidden from view: the small back garden is fenced off and there are concealing trees in the space between the garden and the service road. So, with our hoods on, we knocked on the backdoor and one of the junior residents let us in – there’s always a junior member posted by the door of any cult building to deal with visitors. Then, once he saw we were senior members, he led us to the fourth floor – to the front bedroom – to meet with your son. This was Samuel’s bedroom.’

  I nodded. She continued:

  ‘I can’t remember exactly, but I’d say that the house consisted of maybe twelve rooms. The nine cultists living there aside from your son, though not Inner Sanctum members, were still very much radical and all undoubtedly belonged to a class of cultist whose families thought they’d gone missing without trace.’