The Last Templar ts-1

by Raymond Khoury

  Tess visibly rallied herself, speaking now with renewed determination. "Well, you know what? I appreciate the concern and the warning, it's very gentlemanly of you, but it doesn't scare me in the least. You needed me to know, and now I do, okay? But I don't think you can go on like that, you can't let something that'll probably never happen ruin your life. You're only helping to turn it into a self-fulfilling prophecy. You're not him, okay? You've got to let go, live your own life, and if that's not working, well then maybe something's fundamentally wrong in the way you live your life.

  You're alone, which isn't a great start, and God knows you haven't exactly chosen a bright and merry line of work."

  "It's what I do."

  "Well maybe you need to do something else." The grin made a timely, and welcome, reappearance.

  "Like shutting up and kissing me."

  Reilly's eyes moved over her face. She was trying to make sense of his life, drumming heartfelt optimism into him, and yet he hardly knew her. He felt something familiar, something that he was starting to recognize only happened when he was around her: in a word, alive.

  He leaned into her and pulled her onto him, tightly.

  ***

  As the two figures on the screen drew closer, their gray-blue heat signatures merged into one misshaped lump. The muted voices were now gone too, replaced by the muffled sounds of clothes being discarded and of bodies moving against each other.

  De Angelis cradled a warm cup of coffee as he watched the screen with disinterest. They were parked on a ridge that overlooked the depression where Tess and Reilly had set up camp. The tailgate of the beige Land Cruiser was open, revealing two screens that glowed in the darkness. One was a laptop, from which a lead snaked out to a Raytheon Thermal-Eye infrared surveillance camera that sat on a tripod, dominating the landscape before it. A parabolic directional microphone nested on

  a second tripod. The other screen belonged to a small, handheld PDA. It blinked with the position of the GPS tracker that clung clandestinely onto the underside of Tess's travel bag.

  The monsignor turned and looked down on the dark valley below. He was quietly pleased. Things were under control, and that was how he liked it. They were close and, with a bit of luck, they would beat Vance to it. He still didn't know exactly where they were heading; he would have preferred to have audio capability inside their car, but the opportunity to plant a bug there hadn't presented itself. Not that it mattered. Whatever they found, he would be right behind them, waiting to scoop it up.

  That was the easy part.

  More difficult was the question of what to do with them once that was achieved.

  De Angelis took one last lingering look at the screen before flicking the last of his coffee into the bushes.

  He wouldn't be losing sleep over it.

  Chapter 55

  W hen Tess woke up, daylight was filtering in from outside. She drowsily reached over, but her hand only found empty padding. She was alone in the sleeping bags, which had been zipped together. Sitting up, she remembered that she was naked and found the clothes that had been hurriedly discarded the night before.

  Outside, the sun was higher than she expected, and on checking her watch she saw why. It was almost nine, and the sun was already halfway up a strikingly blue sky that was clear and unblemished. She squinted as she looked around, finding Reilly standing by the Pajero with his shirt off. He was shaving, using hot water from an immersion coil water heater plugged into the lighter socket.

  As she walked up to him, he turned and said, "Coffee's ready." "I love this Ertugrul guy of yours," she marveled as she checked out a smoking thermos. The rich smell of the velvety black coffee roused her senses. "You guys really do travel in style."

  "And you thought your tax dollars were being wasted." He wiped his shaving foam off and kissed her, and, as he did, she again saw the small, discreet silver crucifix on the thin chain around his neck that she had noticed the night before. It wasn't something people wore much these days, she thought, not in her neck of the woods anyway, and it had an old-world charm to it that threw her. She didn't think it would be something she'd find remotely 130

  attractive, and yet, on him, it was somehow different. It seemed to fit; it was part of who he was.

  A short while later, they were back on the road, the Pajero eating up the bumps and potholes of the pitted tarmac as they ventured further inland. They passed a few deserted houses and a small farmhouse before leaving the narrow road they were following to take an even narrower forest track that climbed steeply.

  As they drove past a copse of balsam trees from which a young villager was tapping the fragrant resinous storax, Tess now saw the mountains looming ahead and felt a surge of excitement.

  "Over there. See that?" Her pulse quickened as she pointed at a hill in the distance. Its peak had a distinctive, symmetrical profile. "That's it," she exclaimed. "The double humpback of the Kenjik ridge." Her eyes ate up the notes and the map in her hand as she reconciled them with the landscape before them. "We're there. The village should be in the valley just on the other side of those mountains."

  The track cut through a thick cluster of pine trees, and as they emerged out of it and back into the light, they rounded a hillock and, with the Pajero now making use of the full might of its four-wheel drive, kept climbing up until they crested the ridge.

  It wasn't what she expected. The sight hit her like a sledgehammer.

  There, before them, nested in the valley between two ranges of lush, pine-covered mountains, stretched a huge lake.

  Chapter 56

  Tess's entire body froze as she stared out in bewilderment, then her hand clawed at the door latch and she was out of the car before it had come to a complete stop. She stormed over to the edge of the ridge and looked around in utter incomprehension. The dark, shimmering lake just lay there peacefully, stretching from one end of the valley to the other.

  "I don't get it," she blurted. "It should be right there." Reilly was now standing next to her. "We must have made a wrong turn somewhere."

  "No way." Tess was all flustered, her mind racing, poring over the details of the journey they had taken, revisiting every marker along the way. "Everything fitted perfectly. We followed his journey to the letter. It should be here. It should be right here." Refusing to accept the glaring mistake, she scrambled down through the trees and walked a little further forward to get a better view. Reilly followed her.

  The lake extended to the farthest reaches of the valley to their right. Its opposite end was obscured by the forest.

  Tess stared at the placid water in disbelief. "I don't get it."

  Reilly took in their surroundings. "Look, we can't be that far off. It's got to be around here someplace. We just screwed up somewhere on the way up."

  "Yes, but where?" she said irritably. "We followed what he wrote, right down to the double ridge. It should be right here." She studied the map intently. "The map doesn't even show a lake."

  She looked at him and heaved a sigh of sheer frustration.

  He put his arm around her. "Look, we're close, I'm sure of it. We've been on the road for a couple of hours. Let's find a town, somewhere to eat. We can go over your notes there."

  ***

  The village was small, the only lokanta tiny, a strictly local affair. An old man with a seamed face and dark, pebble eyes took their order, which basically involved their acquiescing to whatever he said was available. Two bottles of Efes beer and a plate of stuffed vine leaves quickly followed.

  Tess was immersed in her notes. She had calmed down but was still disconsolate, visibly and justifiably mired in a deep funk.

  "Eat," he told her. "You'll sulk better."

  "I'm not sulking," she murmured as she glanced up at him, annoyed.

  "Let me have a look."

  "What?" The glare intensified.

  "Your notes. Let's go over them together, step by step."

  She pushed them away and leaned back, tightening her fists, squee
zing the air out of them. "We're so close, I can feel it."

  The old man came back with two plates of cabbage dolmas and skewers of grilled lamb. Reilly watched him as he placed them on the table, then nodded his gratitude before looking at Tess.

  "Maybe we should ask him?"

  "Beer el Sifsaaf'hasn't been on any map for hundreds of years," she grumbled. "I mean come on, Sean. He's old, but he's not that old."

  Reilly wasn't listening to her. His eyes were on the old man, who broke into a gap-toothed smile and nodded sheepishly at him. Reilly felt a sudden tingle of anticipation. "Beer el Sifsaaf >" he asked the old man hesitantly, then, slowly: "Do you know where it is?"

  The old man smiled as he nodded his head vigorously. "Beer el Sifsaaf" he said. "Evet."

  Tess's eyes lit up and she rose from her seat. "What?" The man nodded again. "Where?" she snapped excitedly. "Where is it?" The man was still clearly agreeing, but now looked slightly confused. She frowned, then tried again. "Nerede?"

  The old man pointed up the hill they had just descended. Tess lifted her gaze and followed his outstretched finger. He was waving his pointing hand to the north, and Tess was already heading for the car.

  ***

  Minutes later, the Pajero was roaring back up the hill. The old man, riding shotgun, was hanging onto the handle above his window in a state of perspiring terror as he watched the mountain tear past him, the wind whipping in through the open windows, his cries of, "Yavas, yava-s1'' merely spicing Reilly's grinning abandon as they plowed ahead. Tess was leaning forward from the backseat, her eyes scanning the rushing landscape for clues.

  Just before the ridge where they had seen the lake, the old man pointed, "Gol, jjol," and Reilly swung the wheel to take them along an even narrower track they hadn't spotted before. With tree branches whipping its sides, the SUV charged ahead. Another kilometer or so and the trees cleared, and they mounted another ridge.

  The old man was grinning excitedly, pointing at the valley. "Orada, Orada! Sbte!"

  As the valley opened up before them, Tess couldn't believe her eyes.

  It was the lake.

  Again.

  She shot him a glance of utter dejection as Reilly ground the SUV to a halt, and they all disembarked. They walked over to the edge of the small clearing, the old man still nodding with self-satisfaction. Tess watched him and shook her head, turning to Reilly. "Of course, we had to 132

  find the senile one." She looked at the old man again, imploring him. "Beer el Sifsaaf? Nerede?'

  The old man's brow furrowed in apparent confusion. "Orada,'" he insisted, pointing down at the lake.

  Reilly took a few more steps forward and took another look. From this vantage point, he could see the whole lake, including its western edge, which had been obscured by the forest at their earlier viewing point.

  He turned to Tess, a small smirk breaking across his face. "Oh ye of little faith," he said.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" she blurted. His fingers were calmly inviting her to join him. She looked at the old man, who nodded in eager agreement, then, confused, clambered over to Reilly and saw it too.

  From this new angle, Tess could see, a mile or more away and cutting across the edge of the lake, a concrete causeway that stretched from one hilltop to another. The top of a dam.

  "Oh my God," she said.

  Reilly had taken a notebook from his pocket and was now sketching a cross-section view of the hills with a line stretching between them for the surface of the lake. He then drew the rough outline of some houses at the bottom of the lake and showed the sketch to the old man, who took the ballpoint pen and made a large X at the bottom of the lake and said, "/Coy suyun altinda. Beer el Sifsaaf."

  Tess looked at Reilly and he showed her his rickety drawing. "It's down there," he confirmed.

  "Underwater. This dam flooded the whole valley, the remains of the village with it. It's at the bottom of the lake."

  Chapter 57

  With the old man sitting more comfortably now, Reilly guided the Pajero carefully down the bumpy and rock-strewn track until they reached the edge of the lake.

  It was massive, the surface of its water as smooth and silky as glass. On the opposite shore was a line of posts, incoming power and telephone lines, he guessed, and probably a road in. From the dam itself, he could see a line of pylons striding northward over a range of hills and heading toward civilization. The dam and its artificial lake apart, civilization had not impacted this place. The surrounding woodlands and, higher up, bleaker mountain tops, none of it especially hospitable terrain, looked to him much as it must have looked to the Knights Templar who had passed this way seven hundred years ago.

  They reached the dam and, relieved to be off die rough track and as eager now as Tess was to reach their destination, Reilly sped along the concrete roadway that ran across the top of the massive concrete structure. To their left, he saw a drop of at least two hundred feet. At die far end was a maintenance station, which was where the old man was guiding them.

  As they drove across the causeway, Reilly's eyes scanned the edges of die lake and the ground above them. There was no sign of life, though he couldn't be sure; the tree cover was dense, the shadows providing ample cover for anyone who didn't want to be seen. He had been careful to keep an eye out for any signs of Vance since they had entered the final stages of their journey and hadn't seen anything that suggested any outside visitors in the area. The situation would probably have been different in the height of the summer tourist season, but right now, they seemed to be alone.

  Not that any of that made Reilly feel any more comfortable. Vance had shown himself to be adept at staying one step ahead of them, and he'd shown a headstrong determination and resilience in pursuing his objective.

  He was out there. Somewhere.

  Reilly had used the time during the drive down to ask the old man if anyone else had asked about the village recently. Some awkward language acrobatics later, he understood from the old man that no one had asked about it, as far as he knew. Maybe we are running ahead of him, Reilly thought as he scanned the immediate grounds of the dam, looking for anything out of place before bringing the SUV to a halt alongside what appeared to be a small maintenance office.

  A rusty white Fiat was parked outside. From here, he could see what appeared to be a road coming in from the other side. It appeared to be smooth and fairly new. "If that's what I think it is," he told Tess, "we could've had a comfortable ride here in half the time."

  "Well, when we're done here," she grinned, "maybe we can have a smooth, fast ride out." Her mood had changed immeasurably as she beamed at him before jumping out of the car to follow the old man, who was now greeting a younger man who had emerged from the small shed.

  Reilly waited for a moment, watching her long-legged stride toward the two local men. She was incorrigible. What, he wondered, am I getting myself into with this woman? tic had suggested they call in their discovery and await the arrival of a team of specialists to handle the matter, assuring Tess he would do his utmost to make sure the find was hers. She hadn't batted an eyelid before summarily dismissing his suggestion and imploring him to hold off. Despite his better judgment, he had relented, bowing to the sheer force of her enthusiasm. She was going all the way on this, and even went so far as to insist he stayed off the satphone for now, at least until she'd had a chance to take a look herself.

  Tess was already in earnest conversation with the young man, an engineer whose name was Okan. He was small and slender with dense black hair and an overgrown mustache, and, from the grin plastered on his face, Reilly could see that Tess's charms were already overwhelming any reluctance the man might have in helping them. Okan spoke some English, which also helped.

  Reilly watched with interest as Tess explained that they were archaeologists with an interest in old churches, specifically the one beneath the surface of the lake. The engineer had explained that the valley had been flooded in 1973—two years after Tess's map was dra
fted. The dam now provided most of the electric power for the thriving coastal region to the south.

  Her next question to the engineer stopped Reilly in his tracks. "You must have diving equipment here, right? For checking the dam."

  Okan appeared to be as surprised as Reilly. "Yes, we do," he stammered. "Why?"

  She brushed any doubt aside. "We'd like to borrow some."

  "You wish to dive and look for this church?" he asked, his face shrouded in confusion.

  "Yes," Tess replied sprightly, raising her hands expansively. "It's a perfect day for it, isn't it?"

  The engineer glanced at Reilly and at the old man, unsure of what to make of this. "We have some equipment, yes, but it is used only once or twice a year," he said hesitantly. "It will need checking, I don't know if—"

  She jumped right in. "My colleague and I can check them out. We do it all the time. Shall we follow you?" Reilly looked at her uncertainly. She shot him back a look of utter confidence. He was still pondering her wild suggestion that they were both trained divers. He didn't know about her, but he had nothing more than the most rudimentary basic training underwater. Still, he wasn't about to put a damper on her parade—not here, not in front of the two strangers. He was curious to see where her determination would lead.

  Okan was decidedly uncomfortable with the idea. "I'm not sure, I— I'm not authorized to do anything like that."

  "Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine." She flashed that smile again. "We'll sign a waiver, of course," she assured him. "It'll be entirely our responsibility. And, obviously, we're very happy to pay a fee to . . . the company—for the use of the equipment." The pause before she said "the company" was perfectly timed.

  Any shorter and Okan could've missed it; any longer and he might've been insulted at such a clumsily implied bribe.

  The little man studied her for a moment, then his mustache twitched and he shrugged. "Okay. Come with me. Let me show you what we have."