Return of the Grail King

by Theresa Crater

  Nina pulled in the incredible beauty of Helen of Troy, the daughter of Zeus and Leda, who had been abducted twice and sparked a war because she was the most exquisite of women. Then the seductive brilliance of Cleopatra, who she knew was not as beautiful as Helen or even Elizabeth Taylor, but who had still seduced the leaders of Rome and almost saved Egypt.

  Nina took the Orion crystal in her hand and blew her spell into the stone, calling out to Valentin to awaken and come to her. Then she looked down through the water and saw the irresistible and devious Delilah, who ensnared the indestructible Samson, calling out to her. Mata Hari, the erotic dancer and spy, adding her deadly eroticism to her brew. Then the innocence of Marilyn Monroe as a cover.

  She felt something feeding back to her through the crystal, like a nibble on a fishing line. She’d established this connection a few nights ago at the regular meeting of the lodge when she’d stayed behind and given Valentin a drink, kneeled before him and pressed against his thighs.

  She visualized the Visha Kanyas, the Poison Maidens of India, chosen as infants, made immune to poisons through childhood, trained in seduction even as girls, hired to seduce powerful men and kill them in their own chambers. Sought for their cunning and strength, admired for their beauty and sexual prowess.

  Then she showed him her old face, Nimué. She sunk into that life as deeply as she could without losing her connection to the present and breathed the old spell through their link.

  But to seduce a man like Valentin Knight, Nina knew she must appeal to more than his sexual appetites. He was older, after all. Not as quick to desire a sexual connection. What drove him? What desire dwelled in his innermost heart?

  The desire to know. It had always been that with him, both in the past and now. So she called upon Athena, who came forward, her owl on her shoulder, seeming to offer access to divine knowledge. She asked for Hypatia, who held the keys to the Library of Alexandria, that great repository of ancient knowledge. She whispered she could take him back to before the fire, before its destruction. She could show him all its secrets.

  Were these high, light-filled goddesses really cooperating with her or were they demonic spirits only wearing their faces? She didn’t know nor did she care. As long as Valentin took the bait.

  Deepest of all was his desire to penetrate the very secrets of life, so she called upon the Great Goddess herself, the Black Madonna, Isis Veiled, and She came through the thick, honeyed atmosphere of the ritual, thick with the scent of rose and musk, the feel of warm skin, carrying the Key of Life. Nina knew this was the real Goddess and was momentarily stunned that She had responded. Why would she cooperate, but before she could think of any answer, Isis held out the Great Ankh to Valentin—and he reached out and grasped it.

  Nina had him.

  She allowed herself a moment to luxuriate in her victory. She felt him coming, the fishing line being drawn in. She called Gregor to tell him Knight was on his way.

  Then she changed from her ritual robe to a black velvet dress, dramatically cut to reveal the swell of her breast and a necklace of sparkling diamonds. The Orion crystal key hung just above them.

  Soon she heard car tires outside, then the engine turn off. The car door slam shut and finally the knock on her door. She waited to catch her breath, then opened her front door. There he stood, glassy-eyed, confused, wearing his pajamas. He was alone. He’d driven himself. His forehead wrinkled in his confusion, “Nimué?”

  “Welcome, my Lord Merlin. Welcome back.”

  Chapter 16

  “To hell with waiting for further instructions,” Arnold said. “You traced the source of this code to Valentin Knight’s home computer, right?”

  “Yeah, sure, but they’ve got us locked down,” Preston repeated.

  “Isn’t there any way to unlock it?”

  “We’ll run an interdict, man.” Preston whirled around in his office chair and started ticking off points.

  “And what is that?”

  Preston heaved another dramatic sigh. “We’ll need to burrow through at least a four-layer firewall, but there's no chance of that happening quickly so we need to get direct access to his computer.”

  “What else?”

  Preston ticked off all the problems on his fingers. “His computer is in D.C. This guy’s rich, so he’s probably got security tighter than a nun’s cooch.”

  “No need to be vulgar,” Gerald objected.

  Preston ignored him. “Plus, I need some heavy duty software and a Rubber Ducky to implant the latest version of EternalBlue directly. Then I’ll decode his passwords. Once we find the money and move it back, I’ll want to plug in a PoisonTap to keep watch in case he tries this little trick again.

  “Leo?” Arnold asked.

  “No problem,” he said.

  “Yeah, right.” Preston rolled his eyes.

  Arnold ignored him and asked Leo, “How fast can you get it?”

  “Here in New York? Tomorrow morning. But we’re flying to D.C., so once we’re there, I could have it in an hour.”

  “Sure, man, like you’re some kind of super spy,” Preston said.

  “How long would it take for you to do all that once we’ve secured the site?” Arnold asked him.

  “No way.” Preston’s face changed from sarcasm to disbelief. “Are you guys serious? Who the fuck are you?”

  “If we told you that . . .” Arnold left the rest of the sentence unstated and tried not to laugh.

  Preston’s gaze darted from Arnold to Leo and back. “You’re shitting me.”

  “How long?”

  “Depends on the passwords, but maybe fifteen minutes, give or take.”

  “Get ready. We’re wheels up in an hour.”

  Once on board, Arnold and Leo sat on two couches that faced each other, a table in between bolted to the floor. Preston sat by himself absorbed in computer games. “I need a break,” he’d said. Arnold spread out the print-outs Preston had given them, and he and Leo reviewed the blueprints of Valentin Knight’s home. Then they checked out the Google Maps of his property and the surrounding area. They agreed on the best approach, then found a list of his security personnel.

  “You know any of these people?” Arnold asked.

  Leo scanned the list. “I knew Kate back in the Secret Service.”

  “She good?”

  “Naturally,” he said with a touch of smugness. “I don’t know his head of security though.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Tyrone Williams.”

  Arnold typed the name into the FBI search engine that Leo had given him access to. “Too many results. Do we have a middle name? Any distinguishing characteristics?”

  “Cut the search age to under forty. The middle initial is J.”

  Arnold refined his search parameters and hit enter.

  “There.” Leo pointed to a name halfway down the list. “The address is the same as Knight’s. He must stay on site.”

  Arnold clicked on the name and some information popped up. “Born in Montgomery. Finished high school. Football scholarship at the University of Alabama. Majored in P.E. Ex-Navy Seal eight years ago. After that, his record has been redacted.”

  “Must be black ops, then private security for Knight.”

  “Your government connections always come in handy,” Arnold said.

  “The Le Clairs could have gotten it on their own.”

  Arnold poked Leo in the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re with the family now.” He meant more than the Le Clair family. Although Arnold considered himself a peripheral member of the Le Clairs by now, he thought of Leo as a brother.

  He sat back and rubbed his eyes. “Let’s get some rest.”

  Leo yawned. “Good idea.” He nodded and flicked off his overhead light, then stretched out on his couch.

  Arnold did the same. He and Leo shared a long history. They trained together in the Marines, then been recruited to the same CIA black ops team after distinguished service in the Gulf War. After a few mis
sions in the Middle East, Eastern Europe, and Central America, they’d gone their separate ways. Leo joined the Secret Service and Arnold was recruited for corporate security by the Le Clairs. He switched over to head of family security soon after.

  Leo served two White House administrations before President George Le Clair was assassinated during his term in office. Leo had not been on duty that night, but he always told Arnold that he felt some measure of responsibility for it. Maybe if they’d trained harder. Maybe if they’d sent an extra man or two. Maybe if they had better intelligence. So, he’d come to work for the Le Clair family when they’d been assigned a permanent detail from the Secret Service. Maybe it was misguided guilt, but Arnold was glad to have him since they’d always worked well together. They’d become fast friends and even if Leo was reassigned, Arnold was sure he’d keep up with Leo the rest of his life, which was sure to be longer because of his fighting and logistical skills.

  Flashing the Le Clair name gave Arnold’s team access to land at Andrews Air Force Base where they were met by the rest of their team. Frank had bulging arms and shoulders and a trim waist. He held top rank as a sharp-shooter in case they needed long-range capability, but he was handy in any fight.

  Ken always had the latest haircut, this time a quaff—cropped short on the sides and topped with a mass of curls. He wore rimless glasses and the all-black tee, pants and parka standard for the job, but somehow he made it look like Armani. He reminded Arnold of a young lawyer trying to make partner, but in fact he was a multi-talented freelance agent, skilled in breaking and entering as well as surveillance. He always worked Arnold’s last nerve, but somehow, he ended up hiring Ken a lot.

  Frank greeted him. “What’s the plan, man?”

  “Frank, Ken, you know Leo.”

  Nods all around.

  “This punk—”

  “Hey!” Preston objected.

  “—is Night Wing.” Arnold injected as much sarcasm into his voice as he could manage.

  Frank laughed, making Preston flush red, but Ken pointed at him. “Didn’t you hack the stock exchange the day Congress gutted the Dodd-Frank Act?”

  Preston gave a little flourish with his hands and bowed. “I’m glad to find my work is appreciated in some quarters.” He glared at Arnold, who ignored him.

  Leave it to Ken to know, he thought.

  “You all know the situation. Looks like Valentin Knight has gone over to the dark side of the force and stolen the Le Clair’s money. We’re here to get in,” he pointed to Ken, “hack their computer and return the funds.” He nodded to Preston. “Dana is backing us up online in Massachusetts.”

  Ken handed Arnold a packet. “I’ve given you EternalBlue and PoisonTap, a Rubber Ducky. I threw in a couple extras.”

  “Sweet.” Preston held out his hand, but Ken slapped the package into Arnold’s large palm. Then he winked at Preston.

  Arnold interrupted this budding bromance with a sharp command. “Let’s load up.”

  The group piled into a black SUV with heavily tinted windows and Joan, their pilot from Maris, took the wheel. As she negotiated the numerous freeways leading out to the countryside surrounding Potomac, Maryland, Arnold reviewed the operation. Preston connected the iPad to the onboard screens in back and a map of Knight’s property and the surrounding area popped up.

  “Knight’s acreage runs along this wooded area on the west side.” Arnold ran his large finger down the property line. “The house is just over two klicks from this trail.”

  Ken studied the map for a minute, then nodded.

  Arnold continued. “Dana will gain access to their security system, bring down the cameras and motion detectors. We’ll go in through this basement door here.”

  Ken clicked his phone and brought up his own set of blueprints. “What about the kitchen service area? They take deliveries. Might be easier to breach and we can skip this stairway.” He pointed to the screen on the back of the SUV seat.

  Arnold and Leo scooted closer to the blueprint and Frank held his hand out for Ken’s phone.

  “There’s a security satellite office right down the hall,” Arnold said.

  “Best to get to them as fast as possible. Disable any response. Is this Knight’s private office?” He pointed to a large room toward the front of the house.

  “That’s it.”

  Leo spoke up. “We were thinking of going through the French doors of the office. Avoiding detection all together rather than disabling their response.”

  “Too risky,” Ken said. “Can your girl jam the cell towers?”

  “We’ll use Titan,” Preston interjected.

  Arnold looked around at his team and each man nodded.

  “Sounds like a plan, then,” Arnold said. He leaned forward and asked Joan, “What’s our ETA?”

  “Fifteen minutes unless we run into traffic. Not likely at this hour.”

  Everyone took the time to double check their equipment. Preston had already hooked up the hard drive to his laptop and was running through the programs stored on it, emitting gasps of delight each time he clicked a link.

  Ken got his attention. “We don’t talk on approach. We use basic military hand signals. Do you know them?”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Yes, you do. Now, pay attention. Your life depends on it.” Ken showed Preston basic field gestures and made him repeat them until he had them down. The others checked their guns, extra ammo, knives, and flashlights. Arnold’s team carried Beretta APX Compacts for this job, but Leo was used to the SIG Sauer from his Secret Service work. They all carried silencers. No sense alerting the neighbors.

  Joan switched off the headlights half a mile before the turnoff in the woods. Once they arrived, she turned off the engine, and the group stole out of the vehicle, quiet as hunting owls. Arnold handed out night vision goggles, and everyone checked the infrared and thermal imaging, Ken showing Preston how to use them.

  Arnold scouted out a faint deer trail a few feet in from the road and the others followed, Preston sounding like a bear in the undergrowth. Arnold signaled a stop, but Preston didn’t notice and ran smack into Leo.

  “Son, you’re too loud. You’ll get us shot,” Arnold said. “Try not to make a sound. Watch where you step, avoid sticks, even twigs, and pay attention to signals.”

  Preston drew a breath to protest, but Frank’s hand wrapped around his throat before he could say a word. He leaned in and said in a whisper, “I will not get killed because you’re a fucking moron. Straighten up.”

  Preston still tried to answer, but Frank tightened his grip and the kid nodded frantically.

  Frank let go and Arnold signaled for the group to move forward. This time Preston sounded more like a small mammal rooting through the underbrush. Better. Arnold guessed it was the best he’d get from him.

  They descended a short hill. At the bottom, the path ran along a small creek, water trickling beneath rocks and pooling around a deep part of the bank a few feet away. They crossed it and wound around a tall stand of ash trees. The terrain rose slightly and the sharp scent of pines filled the air. A few yards more and Arnold saw lights on an outbuilding. He signaled a halt.

  Leo and Frank stepped to either side of him. Leo dimmed his night goggles and switched to high resolution. He checked for movement. Frank switched to thermal imaging.

  “Nobody,” Leo mouthed.

  Frank signaled his agreement.

  They climbed an old split-rail fence and moved across the field like the shadows of passing clouds. Preston seemed to be improving. Arnold reached the barn first and waited against the faded red wall. Inside he could hear horses shifting their weight, the nicker of one to another. They seemed restless. The other men arrived within thirty seconds. Arnold pointed right to Frank and left to Ken. The two moved off soundlessly.

  Within a minute, Ken returned, his night goggles hanging around his neck. “Something’s up,” he murmured to Arnold. “All the lights are on in the big house. Team of two checking
the outer buildings.”

  Arnold waited for Frank, who appeared within a minute. “Place is like a hornet’s nest that’s been kicked over. Searching the house for something.”

  “Same plan?” Arnold asked.

  “Let’s get closer. See if there’s anyone in the security office.”

  The team moved around the barn, hugging the walls, then ran behind a horse trailer. Security lights blazed, lighting up every inch of the sloping green lawn that led to the back entrance.

  “I’ll check the front,” Ken whispered to Arnold.

  Arnold nodded and signaled for the rest of the group to wait. Ken snuck to the front, then took off in a sprint to a sprawling oak closer to the house. Then he just disappeared. Arnold shook his head. The guy was good. He’d give him that.

  They waited two minutes, listening to the shouting from the house and side yard. What the hell was going on?

  Leo stepped up beside Arnold. “I’ll go around the other side.”

  Arnold nodded. Leo slipped off almost as skillfully as Ken, except Arnold tracked him until he disappeared around the side of the kitchen entry.

  They waited. Two more minutes went by. Then another two. Just as Arnold was about to go after them, Leo came walking around the side of the house, his arm around Kate, the woman he knew from Secret Service who now served on Knight’s security team.

  “What the fuck?” Arnold burst out.

  Chapter 17

  With Mordred’s arrival in Camelot, life became more formal. Guinevere sat next to him for the evening meal and answered his questions as best she could. Lancelot sat farther down the table. She was grateful he was out of her direct sight. It made her duties easier to bear. The new harpist did as well.

  Mordred’s retinue rolled in on their slower wagons a few days after his precipitous advent, and along with more supplies, troops, and the usual cook had come the harper, this one a Druid by all appearances. Thin and willowy, like the music he played, Carataos was young and soft-spoken, but with a face scarred by an illness. He, too, had been born in Avalon, then gone to train with the Druids.