by Alex Lukeman
Nick and Ronnie knelt by the effigy of William Marshal, First Earl of Pembroke. Ronnie took a package out of his pack. He uncoiled a length of sticky black cord and began to lay it all the way around the edge of the slab where it met the floor. The cord was treated with a compound designed for Special Forces. It reacted with concrete to break down the molecular structure. In effect, it turned concrete to dust. It had to be ignited and made a lot of smoke. It wasn't loud like a demolition charge, but in the deep silence of the nave it was going to be noisy.
"All set." Ronnie stood.
They stepped away from the slab. Ronnie touched off the cord. It burned with a bright, blue-white light and hissed and sparked as it shot around the slab. The noise was like a nest of snakes suddenly wakened. Thick, white smoke drifted up past the soaring arches.
They knelt down by the carved slab and pushed against it. It moved, just a little.
"On three," Nick said. "One, two, three." They grunted and pushed. The heavy slab scraped across the floor, a harsh sound of stone against stone that echoed through the chamber. The tomb of the Earl lay open. They peered in.
"Not looking so hot," Ronnie said.
"What did you expect? He's been dead a long time."
The Earl had been buried in his skirted, chainmail armor. The flesh had long vanished, leaving only bones. The skull gaped at them from within the headpiece. His skeletal fingers clenched a long broad sword, dull and rusted. There was a dry odor of dissolution, a whiff of rust and decay. Most of his tunic was still intact over the mail, the faded red of the Templar cross still visible.
"Look under the sword," Nick said.
Ronnie freed the ancient blade from Pembroke's fingers.
"Nothing. I don't see anything."
"There has to be something. Under his sword, it said. A great treasure."
"Not even a coin."
"Send Selena over. Maybe she can figure it out. You keep watch."
Ronnie got up, went to Selena and whispered. She came over and knelt down over the open crypt.
"He doesn't look so good."
"That's what Ronnie said. We can't find anything."
"You looked under the sword?"
"Yes."
"Is there an inscription on it?"
Nick turned the blade over. "No. Just rust."
"Let me think," she said. "This has to be the right tomb."
Nick waited.
"Nostradamus always played on words...pull up the skirt."
"What?"
"The skirt of his chainmail. Maybe Nostradamus wasn't talking about his broadsword."
Nick smothered a laugh. "How do you come up with these things?"
"I used to read a lot of Shakespeare," she said.
He worked the skirt of mail up around the bones. The mail was heavy and awkward. The right leg came apart under his hands as he moved the armor up over the hips. Fragments of a loin cloth covered something resting in the bony cradle of the pelvis. He pulled out a flat brown leather pouch, dried and cracked. Barely visible was a nobleman's crest, cut into the leather.
"I'll be damned," he said.
At the doorway to the chancel, Ronnie saw something move in the shadows.
"Nick," he hissed. "Someone coming."
Nick placed the pouch in a pocket on his pants. He stood. Selena stood with him.
There was a flash and sharp report in the darkness of the chancel. A bullet ricocheted off the wall near Ronnie's head. He ducked back into the round church.
"More than one," he called. There was no need to be silent now.
A burst of automatic fire from the chancel sent chips of marble flying. Ronnie fired twice into the darkness, loud reports that rang off the stone walls. Nick and Selena ran to the doorway, across from Ronnie. Nick reached around the corner and fired three quick rounds, blind. He risked a glance and saw a man dive behind one of the pews. Shots came from the right side of the church and shattered a stone vase inside the nave.
"Stalemate," he said. "They can't get in here, we can't go out there. They can see us if we try and they've got stuff to hide behind."
Ronnie said, "Too much noise. Someone's bound to hear." He fired three more rounds. More shots came back.
"I count four weapons," Selena said. "Maybe more."
"We've got what we came for. Ronnie, cover us, we're coming across."
Ronnie reached around the opening and fired four shots as Selena and Nick ran across. Bullets hummed past them. A window shattered and littered the floor of the nave with bits of glass.
"We'll go out the door. Like we came in."
"They could be out there," Selena said.
"Be ready in case they are. Lay down fire through the arch into the chancel as we go. Stay as close to the wall as you can. Once we get there, you and I cover while Ronnie opens the door."
"Got it." She nodded.
"Go."
They ran for the exit, firing blindly behind them at the opening into the chancel as they went. The three pistols made a lot of noise. Empty brass bounced and pinged off the floor as they ran. Shots came from behind them. A big chunk blew out of the circular window over the door.
Ronnie pulled the door open. A man appeared behind them at the entrance to the nave. Nick fired twice. The slide locked back on his pistol. The figure fell back into the chancel. They went through the door. Nick pulled it shut behind him, dropped the empty magazine and clicked in another. In the distance, a police siren sounded. Then a second joined in.
There was no one waiting for them outside. They ran in the shadows until they reached the spot where they'd left their rental car and piled in. Nick pulled away. Before he turned the corner, he saw the reflection of the lights on a police car bouncing off the Temple walls. They turned a corner and the lights disappeared.
He got a few more blocks and slowed down.
"Anyone hit?"
"Negative."
"No," Selena said. The adrenaline rush was still going strong. "How did they know we were there?"
"They might not have known," Nick said. "It has to be the same people who came after you in Washington. They got the manuscript. They figured it out, like we did. Bad luck they showed up when we were there."
"But good luck they didn't get there ahead of us," she said. "I wonder what's in that pouch?"
"We'll find out. Be nice if it isn't another damn puzzle."
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Ari Herzog sipped strong black coffee and contemplated the glow of the sun as it reflected from the golden Dome of the Rock. So much beauty. So much hatred. So much history of blood.
Lev came into Herzog's office. He was carrying a newspaper. "You see the London papers today?"
"Not yet."
"Take a look." He handed the paper over. Ari sat down at his desk and looked at the front page.
The lead shouted.
Temple Church Shootout
Tomb Vandalized, Guards Murdered
"Temple Church. It has to be about the Ark," Lev said. "Your friends from the Project must have been there."
"And someone else," Herzog said. "Nick and the others would not kill the guards. They don't operate like that. If they're involved, they were in there looking for something and were discovered by the wrong people."
"What would they be looking for?"
"I don't know. Let's ask them."
Herzog picked up his phone and entered Nick's number. He turned on the speaker so Lev could listen. Ari and Nick had worked well together during the disastrous visit of the American President to the Temple Mount. Nick had helped save Israel from destruction, a debt that could never be repaid. There was a bond of trust and respect between the two men that crossed national boundaries.
"Yes."
"Nick, it's Ari. I've got you on speaker and Lev is here with me."
"Ari."
"Were you at the Temple Church recently?"
"I take it you've seen the papers."
"Yes."
"We were there. Not us w
ho snuffed the guards, though."
"I never thought otherwise. I thought you were going to keep me informed, Nick."
"Subject to Director Harker's approval, yes."
"Can you tell me what you were doing in that church?"
"Following up on a lead. I can't tell you much more before I talk with Harker."
"You're not giving me much."
"Ari, you know how it works. I'll tell you what I can, when I can."
"The election here is not far away," Ari said. "Weisner is gaining in the polls. There have been terrorist incidents and it's helping him. Your government does not need Weisner as Prime Minister. Let us help you with this, Nick."
"What do you have in mind? Tell me and I'll run it by Harker."
"Put Lev on your team while you look for the Ark. He can report back to me."
It was the first Lev had heard about it. He had been listening to the conversation sitting slumped in one of Ari's arm chairs. Now he sat up straight, surprised.
"You know we have specialized training, Ari."
"Lev can handle it. He was with the Sayeret Matkal before I got him. He has the skills you need."
The Sayeret Matkal were the cream of Israeli Special Forces, as good as anything the Americans or Russians or British had. There wasn't any question Lev would have the skills needed.
Nick considered what Ari had asked him. With Lamont out of action they were one short on the team. With someone coming after them at every opportunity, adding an experienced gun to the team could improve the odds.
"I'll think about it. The political angle complicates things."
"That's all I ask, Nick."
They ended the call.
"You could have asked," Lev said, "before you volunteered me to work with Americans."
"They're not just any Americans," Herzog said. "If Nick takes you on, you're in for an interesting experience."
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Nick put out Ari's proposal to the team. Everyone was in Harker's office.
"Lamont's gone for three months or longer," Elizabeth said. "It depends on how fast he heals."
"That's the only reason I'm even considering Ari's proposal," Nick said, "because we're a man short. All of Sayeret Matkal's ops are classified and so is their personnel list, but Steph got into their computers. The man Ari wants us to use has hard core combat and black ops experience. We won't have to break him in. He's got as much training as we do."
"We've done it before," Selena said, "with Arkady."
Arkady Korov was Russian Spetsnaz. He'd been on two missions with the Project, in a bizarre alliance against common enemies.
Harker picked up her Mont Blanc and began tapping. "This is sensitive, politically speaking. Herzog wants us to help him discredit an opponent of the current Prime Minister. He's drawing us into the domestic politics of a foreign nation."
"It wouldn't be the first time we did that," Nick said, "but for Ari it's secondary. Finding the Ark and bringing it back to Israel is more important to him. It's true there's a political stink on this. If Weisner gets the Ark he'll use it to bolster his authority to do what he wants. What he wants isn't in our best interest. The fact that Harrison is backing him proves that, if nothing else."
Elizabeth set her pen down. She rubbed her forehead. "Are those headaches of yours catching?" she said. "Because this is giving me one."
They laughed. "Want some aspirin?" Nick said.
"It will take more than that. Ronnie, what do you think? About bringing in Herzog's man?"
"It worked out with Korov," Ronnie said. "Hell, I might have been killed if he hadn't been there. Without Lamont we're stretched kind of thin. I'm for it."
"Selena?"
"It will make us stronger. Yes, I'm for it."
"Nick?"
"What about Herzog? Everything we do will get reported back to him."
"I don't think it matters anymore. It could be to our advantage. This way, we won't have to worry that the Israelis might do something rash while they're trying to find out what we're doing."
"All right," Nick said. "I'll call Ari."
"That's settled, then. Let's talk about what you found in the church."
"What was in the pouch was a letter from Jacques de Molay," Selena said.
Elizabeth had thought nothing else about this search for the Ark could surprise her until she heard that. She considered what Selena had just said.
"The Grand Master of the Templars?"
"The same. It's an extraordinary letter. It was written in Latin. The pouch was sealed with something that kept it tight, so the parchment was in good condition. It's downstairs, in the safe. I've got the translation here."
She read from a piece of yellow note paper.
In the Year of Our Lord, 1307, in the Sixth Month
To Walter de la More, Master and Commander
I, Jacques de Molay, swear by Almighty God that the accusations against the Order are false and without merit. Brother, the King has corrupted the Vicar of Christ. Phillip is not worthy of his throne, nor Clement to hold the Shepherd's Crook. These words alone condemn me to the stake if they are discovered.
You received the shipments from Cyprus, this has been reported to me. I trust you have secured them.
There are rumors Clement will convene an inquiry. I am uncertain what will happen, but fear the King is set to move against us.
Our enemies are many and strong. You must prepare for an assault. The protection of the Container is a charge given to us by Him who rules all. We must keep it from the hands of those who serve the Great Deceiver. The burden is no longer mine, but yours.
May God keep you safe.
"It's signed by de Molay."
"Wasn't he burned at the stake in 1307?" Nick asked.
"No. He was imprisoned, but he wasn't burned until 1314. 1307 is when he and the Templars were arrested. The letter was written in June of 1307. Pope Clement V held an inquiry in August and the Templars were arrested in October."
"The Vicar of Christ in the letter."
Selena nodded.
"Who was Walter de la More?"
"Master of the London Commandery, the Temple Church. He's probably the one who put that pouch in Marshal's tomb. La More was arrested in 1308 and imprisoned in the Tower of London. He wouldn't sign a confession, so he was tortured. He died in the Tower."
"How does Cyprus come into this?" Ronnie asked.
"The main headquarters of the Templars were on Cyprus," Selena said. "The treasury of the Templars was there as well."
"So de Molay knew things were going south and he shipped the Ark to England," Nick said.
"It looks like it. It would have been vulnerable in Cyprus because of Turkish attacks. Likewise in France because of King Phillip. England would have looked like a better bet. They didn't find a great treasure in Cyprus, just a relatively small amount. Perhaps de Molay shipped that to England as well."
"This is all real interesting," Ronnie said, "but we still don't know where it is. We're out of leads."
"But now we have proof the Ark still existed before 1307 and that the Templars had it," Elizabeth said. "It's probably still wherever la More hid it, or it would have surfaced by now."
"Somewhere in England?" Nick said.
"That seems logical." Elizabeth said. "I suppose it could also be in Ireland or Scotland."
"How are we going to pin it down?" Stephanie asked.
"I want you and Selena to research everything you can think of about la More. There has to be something, somewhere. People are predictable. He would have hidden it in a place he thought no one could find, but he would have had some knowledge of wherever that was. So look for patterns. Look at his genealogy, his family, all of it."
"He may have been childless," Selena said. "The Templars took a vow of chastity."
"That doesn't mean he didn't have children," Harker said. "Look anyway."
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Selena saw the red light flashing on her ans
wering machine as she came in the door. Usually the only calls on that line were telemarketers ignoring the do not call rule. She thought there was probably a special place in a particularly hot corner of hell for them and all their employers.
One message. She pressed the play button, ready to delete.
"Hi, Doctor Connor, this is Detective Hanson. Uh, sorry I didn't catch you in." There was a pause. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know there's nothing new yet on the guy who attacked you. I'd still like to have that drink with you. Give me a call, if you're up for it."
Hanson read off his phone number. The message ended.
Selena erased it, got a glass out of the cabinet and poured herself an Irish whiskey, a taste she'd picked up from hanging out with Nick. The liquor was strong and warm going down. She walked over to the couch and sat down.
She wasn't going to have a drink with Detective Hanson. What bothered her was that part of her wanted to. She didn't need that kind of complication right now. She took another swallow of whiskey.
Nick.
What did she want from him, exactly?
They weren't sleeping in the same bed anymore and it wasn't helping things between them. His nightmares made it impossible. He hadn't said much about his counseling sessions. She wasn't sure when he was going again. Something always seemed to come up.
She felt like she was treading water, waiting for something to happen that would define them as a couple, one way or another. Everything felt impermanent. She supposed there were worse things. They made a good team in the field and neither one of them would still be alive except for the other. It made for a strong bond. Just the same, knowing he could be killed made it hard to imagine a future together.
Working for the Project wasn't like it had been in the beginning, before she understood what it was really about. It was hard, dirty work, where people got killed. Where her friends were at risk. Where vicious and pathological enemies would do anything to get what they wanted.
She loved Nick, she was certain. She was pretty sure he loved her, but they were different in so many ways. Shared danger gave them something in common. But a relationship needed something more than shared danger to survive.
