Conspiracy of Silence

by Ronie Kendig

  Someone cursed.

  “But phosphorus wasn’t discovered until the 1600s,” Maangi said, knuckling the table as he glanced over Tox’s shoulder to see the text. When the others looked at him, he bounced his shoulders. “What? I know chemistry.”

  Tox flipped back a page, looking for a date notation. Again, surprise speared him.

  “Holy cow,” Cell said. “It’s dated 1680.”

  “Who wrote it?” Ram asked.

  “It’s in the same handwriting.” Tox double-checked it against several pages to verify what he’d noticed. “That doesn’t make sense. Thefarie was a Templar, twelfth century.”

  “It is wrong,” Chiji whispered, repeating his earlier words.

  “Good point. How could Thefarie record events in 1099 and 1215, a hundred years apart?” Ram asked. “Then in 1680?”

  “Perhaps the translation wasn’t quite spot on,” Tzaddik said, giving Haven a condescending look. “And remember, these are said to be writings Tiberius collected.”

  “You said some were collected, some were his own.”

  “Yes, but it’s not possible, is it, for him to live long enough to have witnessed both?” Tzaddik chuckled, but it wasn’t incredulity. It was . . . amusement.

  “And the phosphorus,” Maangi said.

  “Ah, very good.” More of that amusement. “So this would mean that either phosphorus was discovered far earlier than expected—”

  “Unlikely,” Maangi put in.

  “—or somehow Thefarie managed to defy time and live a very long life.”

  “Four centuries?” Tox laughed. “Impossible.”

  Tzaddik shrugged. “Then it is a mystery.”

  “Perhaps Tiberius forgot to attribute some of the writings to the real author,” Haven said.

  Tox stared at the script that seemed to have a poetry to its styling. All in the same hand. “So this Tiberius transcribed Thefarie’s collection and messed up.”

  Tzaddik pursed his lips. “That’s most likely, isn’t it?”

  “The point”—Tox tapped the text—“is that this isn’t a coincidence. The Codex, the AFO. I mean, to have both mentioned—the arrow and the Order—back in Byzantine times and to have both surface and invade our lives . . . it’s too coincidental.”

  “Without a doubt.” Tzaddik finally seemed pleased. “Are you familiar with the verse about not adding to the Bible?”

  “Deuteronomy 4:2,” Chiji offered. “‘It is written: ‘Do not add to what I command you and do not subtract from it, but keep the commands of the LORD your God that I give you.’”

  Tzaddik smiled. “And what would you say if I told you someone added to it? Added to the Codex?”

  “That doesn’t affect us, though. Right?” Tox looked around the room. “I mean, isn’t there a curse against whoever adds or subtracts?”

  “Yes,” Ram said quietly, his expression contemplative. Stern. “But if they can prove the Codex has been added to, then it will be deemed corrupt.”

  Tzivia folded her arms with a sigh. “And that means it’s fallible.”

  “Which, in turn,” Ram said, looking miserable, “could be the means to refute the entire Codex.”

  “Call into question the Bible itself.” Tzivia lowered herself into a chair, head down. Though Tox half expected her to look exultant, she seemed as affected by the news as her brother.

  “That’s crazy,” Cell said.

  “It’s reality.” Though Tox struggled in his faith, tattered threads still bound his heart, thanks to Chiji. “But . . . really, how does this affect us now?” He hated that truth, but they had a plague to neutralize. An organization to shut down.

  “The Arrow & Flame Order is a two-headed serpent,” Tzaddik said. “It affects you because what you need to locate is also being hunted by the AFO—they will stop at nothing to destroy the already humbled credibility of the faith. To stop the plague, you must find the page from the Codex that speaks to that part of Deuteronomy and the censers. All four. They must be brought together.”

  Tzaddik rose to his feet, but there was something crazy about his presence that seemed to soak in the shadows and crevices of the room, filling every square inch. His face lit with challenge. “You must also confront the two heads: Iomhair Kaine and Nur Abidaoud.”

  “Wait.” Tox held out a staying hand. “Abidaoud?” He glanced at Ram, then back to Tzaddik. “Any relation to Salih Abidaoud?”

  “His brother, a black mark on the family. You know of Salih?”

  “Tried to capture him.”

  “‘Tried.’” Tzaddik grunted. “That’s telling. The family is powerfully connected. Nur will be a greater challenge, especially if he knows you have been after his brother. But Kaine and Nur are as savage as they are ruthless. Neither should be approached unless you are prepared to face severe consequences.”

  38

  — Day 13 —

  En Route to London

  Relieved to finally be on her way to see Evie, Kasey lay awake on the private jet ferrying her and Cole’s team from Syria to England. As soon as they’d left Tzaddik’s home, Cole had Cell and SAARC hammering away, tracking down the two heads of the serpent: Kaine and Abidaoud. While the latter proved elusive, Cell managed to get a ping off Kaine in London.

  Though most of the team slept for the duration of the flight, Kasey only managed to grab two hours of sleep, stress over her niece’s welfare and confronting the AFO keeping her awake.

  She slipped out of the seat and headed to the lavatory at the rear. Finished, she emerged to a droning voice. She glanced back to the galley and saw Cole at the table, head in hand as he talked on a phone.

  “Wheels down at 0900 . . . yeah . . . let me know what you find. Clearly, he’s a tricky son of a gun. Such a high-ranking member, I wonder at finding Kaine so easily.”

  Kasey moved to the coffee percolating in the corner and quietly lifted the pot.

  Cole lowered his hand, blue eyes sliding to her. He nodded, though he didn’t speak. “Agreed.” He scooted upright. “Will do. Keep me posted on Evie.” Another silent nod. “Yep. Bye.”

  Kasey poured the coffee and added the creamer, noting it was barely warm. Cup in hand, she turned and propped her hip against the narrow counter. “Galen?”

  Sighing, he set down the phone. “Yeah.” He pushed out of the seat and came around the table, lifting a foam cup for himself.

  It was crowded when they had a table separating them. Now that he stood next to her, she resisted the urge to ease back and give him room as he made coffee. “How’s Evie?”

  “They’ve induced a coma to slow the damage.”

  Kasey held the cup in front of her face, allowing the coffee-scented steam to spiral around her nostrils. “Is there a lot? Of damage.” His presence was tangling her mind again. “I mean—those arrows killed people. How’d she survive?”

  He leaned back against the counter, too. “Arrow wasn’t phosphorus.” He sipped his coffee.

  She set down her drink. “What was it? Does that mean it’s not the AFO?”

  After a swig and swallow, he sighed. “They’re not sure, but her organs are shutting down. They think the arrow had a virus. Maybe the head was coated with it.”

  “They injected her with the plague?”

  He dumped back the rest of his coffee. Crumpled the cup and tossed it in the bin before folding his arms. “That’s my guess. Might have gotten it from the censer Tanin stole.”

  It took everything in her not to cry again. She deflated beneath the news. “Why would they do that to a child?”

  “Because of her father. Because of me.” His shoulder lifted. “To make a point.”

  “Galen makes sense—he’s a powerful president. But you?”

  He smirked. “Thanks.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  His smile was small but genuine. “I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They target those I know because I’m bringing the fight to them. I’m getting in the way. You saw the vide
o—I’m not listening.”

  Two weeks ago, when their lives had reconnected, that comment might have been laced with arrogance or pride. But now she heard his exhaustion. The weariness that pushed against his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Cole.”

  His eyes struck her. Rippled. “Why do you always say that?”

  Kasey shrugged and pursed her lips. “I guess because I see how this affects you.” She tried to measure his response, but there wasn’t one. “You’re a warrior, always have been. You do what nobody else wants to do, and yeah—things that affect most of us roll off like water.” Still no reaction, flinch, or change in his expression. “But behind that wall of granite is a really great guy who often gets a very short stick.” More staring. Maybe some softening. Or was that her imagination?

  “I don’t get you.”

  Kasey tilted her head. “What does that mean?”

  “You’ve got Superman there fawning over your every move, but you’re talking to me.”

  Pumping Nutella through her veins would’ve been easier than trying to get her heart to work right. In her line of work, what a person didn’t say was as important, sometimes more, than what they did say. And she heard in the empty space between his words that he knew she had feelings for him.

  “Haven, there’s a reason I’m who I am. There’s a reason I’m alone.” He snorted. “Brooke knew what she was doing dumping me.”

  Kasey scowled.

  “I’m no good for you, Haven. You’re too sweet. Too good for me.”

  “I think that’s my decision.”

  Cole watched her for several long seconds. It seemed he stood braced against his own will. As if he was afraid to move.

  Why would he be afraid to move? “I scare you.”

  He snorted again. Shook his head, then nodded. “Maybe. Yeah . . .” He nodded, stronger this time. “Okay, yeah. You do. But mostly because I refuse to screw up your life. No matter what I think about you, I’m not willing to go there, to risk that.”

  Her heart thrashed against her ribs now, demanding freedom. No matter what he thought about her? So he had thought of her. And clearly thought of her in a romantic way. He’d have to do that to decide he couldn’t mess up her life, right? But he had it wrong. “That’s what a relationship is all about. It’s not about guarantees. It’s about risks. About a willingness to test those waters.”

  “I’ve tested them before. And I end up evaporating them and leaving a desert in its place.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself.”

  “No.” Cole pulled himself off the counter and started around her. “I’m not hard enough. People have gotten hurt. I won’t do that to you.”

  She stepped into his path. Before she could think it through, her hand rested on his stomach. His muscles contracted beneath her fingers, then froze. Surprised at her own actions, she hesitated, then peered up into his bright eyes and suddenly felt herself swimming. “So I’m not worth the risk of finding out you have better in you than you think?”

  Cole’s gaze traced her eyes, her nose, her mouth. Was he seeing the bruises, the remnants of being beaten? When he bent closer, his intensity squeezed her breath. “I made a promise.”

  “To whom?”

  His knuckles swept her jaw, and Kasey’s pulse shuddered. She leaned into his touch and took a breath, one laced with fire and hope.

  He shook his head but didn’t pull away. “Haven . . .” His warm, strong fingers teased her neck as they slid to her nape. Heat washed over her shoulders and spilled down her stomach then flared across her back.

  When his gaze dipped to her lips, Kasey was afraid to move. Afraid to speak. Afraid he’d pull away. That the moment would slam shut. Even as she willed herself not to mess this up, he angled in. His breath slid across her cheek, warm. Please . . . The past fell away and her dreams rushed to the front.

  He looked at her, his eyelids hooded with desire. Haven tilted her head to receive his kiss. So ready. Finally.

  Turbulence pitched him sideways. Bracing himself against the hull, Cole blinked.

  Cold wind blasted between them.

  “Gettin’ kinda hot in here, ain’t it?” Cell stalked around them. “Might need something to cool off before we hit London.”

  Cole glanced at her, his expression inscrutable. He rubbed his forehead. Shifted and tapped the wall before looking at Cell. “Any closer to finding Abidaoud?”

  Three signs of deception. He’d just given her three, one right after the other. He wasn’t lying to his friend. He was lying to himself.

  Tsssk! Soda can open, Cell guzzled. Thumped his chest and belched.

  Cole was taking his out. She knew him well enough to know that with the moment broken, he would act is if nothing had happened. She slipped into the aisle. Hand on the dividing wall, she stole one more glance.

  His back was to her now.

  Pain scorched as she returned to the leather chair and lowered herself into it. She felt Levi’s gaze from across the aisle and turned to the portal window, escaping conversation and pity. Sunlight reflected off the clouds, nearly blinding her. Should she cry that the moment had been lost? Or exult that she saw in Cole’s eyes the same desire that had churned through her breast all these long years?

  ****

  What was wrong with him? Tox didn’t dare leave the galley. Phone on the table, he cradled his head in his hands, staring down at the device. Idiot.

  He didn’t care what Haven awoke in him, he would not go there. Would not destroy her life, too. And if he caved to the attraction, that was what would happen.

  “So I’m not worth the risk . . . ?”

  She was worth it. And so much more. Which was why he had to say no. Because he knew himself. Knew he was a complete screw-up when it came to relationships. To people. He knew how to run a team, but that was where his social skills stopped.

  “What’s going on?”

  Tox lowered his hands to the table but didn’t look up at Ram. He dropped back, feigning depression. “Evie’s getting worse.”

  Ram didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

  “Wasn’t phosphorous in the arrow.” Tox picked up his phone and pushed from the table. “She might have been infected with the plague.”

  Ram watched him leave but didn’t respond.

  Tox hadn’t fooled him and didn’t care. He wasn’t going to explain himself. Wouldn’t confess his idiocy. Better to just leave it behind. Bury it.

  When he stepped out of the galley, something flew through the air. Tox caught it, his brain instantly registering the kali stick his fingers had wrapped around. Dark eyes challenged him. Tox hefted the stick and welcomed the second one Chiji tossed. Enough room existed between the seats and the galley for a decent workout. Might be tight. That’d just make him focus harder. Get his mind off her.

  He nodded to Chiji. And swung into the rhythm of stick-fighting drills.

  Chiji pushed him hard. In fact, he was unrelenting. The strikes came faster. Harder. Stronger. Though Tox considered himself advanced, his Nigerian friend was the master, the expert.

  Tox moved quickly, startled when one stung the air near his ear. Rattled at the aggression, he worked to stay alert. The team gathered, clapping out a fast beat as he and Chiji drilled.

  Thwap! Tox’s forearm stung. He shot a shocked look to Chiji, who merely gave an acknowledging nod. “What was that?”

  Punishment. For crossing a line with Haven, no doubt. Chiji was showing big-brother instincts when it came to her.

  The intercom from the captain crackled out the announcement that they were making their descent into London.

  “You should buckle in,” Chiji said, taking back the sticks. Not a bead of sweat on his dark brow.

  Levi Wallace approached. “So you can be beaten?”

  Tox snorted and shook his head, glancing at the angry knot forming on his arm. Even after they’d landed and made it to the safe house, the arm still ached. Not that anyone would feel sorry for him, including him. In fact
, he slowly grew grateful for the painful reminder.

  Their safe house was a two-story house on the outskirts of London that provided anonymity and enough space for him to avoid Haven. The team had gone in various directions, chasing leads and opportunities.

  Tox clapped a hand on Cell’s shoulder. “Find anything on Abidaoud?”

  “Only tracks after he left someplace. This is one tough guy to find.”

  “What about Kaine? Still here?”

  Cell cocked his head. “Not a hundred percent guaranteed but very likely. His trail is hidden, though not as well as Abidaoud’s.”

  Tox nodded, hoping it wasn’t too convenient that they’d found Kaine, that they weren’t stepping into a trap. He glanced at an image on Cell’s monitor. “That him?” Fifty-something. Thick head of graying hair. A bit thick through the waist, but not too much. Evidence that he was comfortable enough in his life, in his power, to get a little sloppy with his health. Maybe he was sloppy elsewhere, too.

  “Cole?”

  He felt Haven’s voice rush up his spine and coil around his brain. “Yeah?” He kept his gaze on the monitors, studying Kaine.

  “I’d like to go see Evie.”

  Family entanglements. That meant he’d likely have a run-in with his brother. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “I talked with Galen,” she said, sounding closer. “He asked me to come. But that you had to bring me.”

  Tox turned at that. “Why?”

  Haven looked down. Swallowed. Met his gaze, her eyes swimming in pain. “They’re . . .” She bit her lower lip. “She’s not doing well.”

  Revelation crashed in on him and his defenses vanished. “She’s dying.”

  Her chin dimpled with repressed tears. She nodded.

  “But I promised her . . .”

  “Promised who?”

  “Brooke.” He ran a hand over his head. His mind buzzed at the thought of his niece dying. Suffering because her father and uncle pitted themselves against a brutal organization bent on making the world pay for its sins.

  “When did you do that?”