by D. N. Leo
“All right . . . what’s the location?”
“We’ll see you tonight at seven at Rufford Abbey.”
There was sound of tapping on computer keyboard. And then, “Mr. LeBlanc, you think I’m an idiot?”
“As you like!”
“Fuck you, Ciaran! That’s a tourist park.”
“If the tomb is at Mortlake where everyone thinks it is, do you really think whatever you want to find in it would still be there?”
Zen hesitated. “It’s like three hours’ drive from London . . .”
“Then you’d better start driving. Remember, you better bring Jo. Without her being safe and sound, the deal will be off. I won’t give you a second chance.” Ciaran hung up the phone.
When Ciaran turned to look at Madeline, her heart sank. His eyes were too dark.
“What, Ciaran?”
He gestured for silence, then dialed on his cell phone. “Lindsay, I need the chopper at the London headquarters right now. Arrange two handguns for me. Send twenty of Robert’s best men to Mon Ciel. Get my mother out of there. Tie her up and drug her if you have to. I’ll deal with her wrath afterward. No civilian staff in Mon Ciel tonight.”
He hung up the phone, pulled out his painkiller box, and popped two pills in his mouth. Then he rubbed at his temples. Madeline pulled a chair over and sat opposite Ciaran. “Let me,” she said and rubbed her thumbs on his temples. Ciaran closed his eyes, then he reached over, pulling Madeline onto his lap and nuzzling into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and found the muscles there tightened up in knots. She pressed and kneaded them, trying to relax him.
Ciaran released her but still held on his lap. “Zen is simply too stupid to handle this by himself. Do you know what a hologame is?”
Madeline shook her head.
“It’s the most advanced game technology on Earth. Jo finished only the front end of it because she doesn’t have the technological resources to complete it. For Zen to say he’ll arrange a computer for me on site—that suggests he knows nothing about this technology and what he’s dealing with.”
“You’re saying that the person Zen is working for wants whatever is inside Mon Ciel?”
“I hope I’m wrong and Zen is only a stupid gold digger.”
Madeline hopped up and kissed Ciaran’s forehead, then grinned as she saw the twinkle return to his eyes. “What if they send more than twenty men to Mon Ciel?”
Ciaran laughed. “It’s not the numbers, it’s the technology we have that protects the place.” He kissed her dimple. “All you need to know is that we’ll get Jo back tonight, regardless of whether Zen is stupid or not. Okay?”
She nodded and got off his lap.
Half an hour later, Madeline and Ciaran finished the last part of the security check and headed toward a dispatch platform at the back of the building. The helicopter pilot started the engine as soon as he saw Ciaran’s shadow at the door. Ciaran got into the helicopter and helped Madeline in.
Tadgh was sitting in one of the front seats, grinning at them. “Thank you for asking Lindsay to arrange a gun for me. You know me well, brother.”
“It wasn’t for you,” Ciaran growled.
“You weren’t intending Madeline to carry, were you? Don’t worry, she can handle this.” Tadgh reached over and handed Madeline a gun so small that it would fit nicely into her purse, if she had one.
“Tadgh!” Ciaran warned.
“This could come in handy. Put it in your pocket. I don’t think Ciaran intended to give you a weapon. He’s a two-hand shooter. But he’ll have to manage with one gun for tonight.”
“What? Are you both combat trained?”
“No. We just bluff.” Tadgh grinned again.
“If you know about tonight, then you should be at Mon Ciel,” Ciaran scolded.
“No.” Tadgh’s grin faded. When he was serious, his eyes were as intense as Ciaran’s. “Mon Ciel is only a house. You are my brother.”
“Then don’t be my burden. I don’t have time to watch your ass.”
“You have to. That’s your responsibility.” Tadgh sank deep into his chair, relaxing as if he was going to take a nap. Ciaran swallowed a snarl and asked the pilot to take off.
At five thirty p.m. in the winter, Rufford Abbey had already been deserted by staff and visitors. What a magnificent sight, Madeline thought. She was wondering how many people visited during the day. Under the very limited sunlight that was left, the abbey sat quietly as praying for the monks who had lived and died here in the twelfth century.
Once the helicopter had landed, Tadgh whined, “I hope we make it for dinner tonight.”
The area was surrounded by national parks and bushland. There would be no hope for civilized comforts such as meals and accommodations in nearby locations.
“I didn’t twist your arm to make you come here. We need to set up.” Ciaran pointed to the parking lot. “You see that lot? We’ll make the guy park there and show us clearly that he has Jo with him. Then Madeline and I will distract him and make him work to find the crucifix.
“Crucifix?” Tadgh frowned. He shot a very quick glance at Madeline, and Madeline knew he didn’t realize she had caught his look. She kept her face blank, focusing on Ciaran’s plan.
33
Ciaran assured Tadgh with an easy tone. “He mentioned John Dee’s tomb, then an artifact, then a crucifix. I don’t think he knew exactly what he was talking about.”
“A gold digger you’ve got there.” Tadgh smiled.
Ciaran nodded.
“So you want to lure him away from the car, and then we can jump in and rescue the girl?” Tadgh asked.
“That’s the ideal scenario. I don’t think Zen is very smart, but he might not be totally stupid, either. If he figures it out before we get to Jo, then our plan is doomed.”
“You have to help us guide the cops in here to get Zen, Tadgh,” Madeline said. She pulled out her phone and shared Stephen’s number with Tadgh. “This is my friend, Stephen. He’s a New York cop. Zen is apparently wanted by the police internationally, so Ciaran thought we might give Stephen a sexy collar on this case.”
Tadgh shook Ciaran’s shoulders. “Nice!”
Then they went about setting up the venue while Madeline followed up with Stephen on his progress. Everything seemed to be going as planned.
Just after seven, a car drove slowly into the dark parking lot. As soon as the headlights went off, Madeline’s phone buzzed, and Zen’s voice was broadcast on speaker.
“Well, we’re here. Got lost a bit but didn’t kill myself by driving on the wrong side of the road.”
“Where’s Jo?” Madeline asked.
Zen switched on the internal light of the car. Jo was leaning back, sleeping in the back seat of the car.
Tadgh gasped. “Oh, sweet Jesus Christ, what a sleeping beauty!”
Both Madeline and Ciaran turned around, their eyes commanding silence. He made an apologetic zipping gesture across his lips and shut up.
“I had to give her a sedative. She wasn’t exactly cooperating, as you might realize, Madeline. She should wake up in a couple of hours. So what’s next?”
Ciaran leaned toward the phone while he signaled to Tadgh to go away. “All right, we’re in the main abbey. I’ll meet you at the door.”
Five minutes later, Zen appeared at the entrance to the abbey. Madeline and Ciaran met him at a stone door to the side. The door was small, and Ciaran had to bend down to go past it. Zen followed and then Madeline. Madeline checked behind her before entering the chapel area and caught a flash of Tadgh’s shadow running between the trees. She smiled to herself. Just like his brother, he was as quick as a cat.
The chapel was made entirely of stone, and thus it was freezing. Some burning torches mounted on the walls dimly lit the interior, and it was just enough to give light and keep the ambience of the old place of worship. An old altar, consisting of a non-operating platform that looked as if it was now used as a fireplace,
was located at the far end of the room. Paintings and information about the history of the abbey covered part of the cold stone walls.
Along with the noise of birds and wild animals from the nearby lake and bushland, the quivering shadows and the feeling in the air inside the abbey caused a chill to run up Madeline’s spine. If anyone had told her that the ghost of an ancient monk haunted this place, she would have believed it. Madeline admired Ciaran for choosing such a place for their setup. Still, Madeline wished she wasn’t standing in one of King Henry VIII’s ruined abbeys. Surely some of the ghostly things people talked about occurring in these dark and mysterious abbeys were real.
“What the hell is this?” Zen broke the silence.
“This is where the crucifix is possibly buried,” Ciaran answered.
“How could the tomb possibly be in here?”
“You confuse me, Zen.” Ciaran spoke sternly.
“What?”
“First you said crucifix, but now you say tomb.” Ciaran shoved his hands into his pockets as if annoyed.
“Don’t fuck around with me.”
“Although I’m not religious, I would expect that it’s disrespectful to swear at a place of worship. But given you’re going to dig around, I suppose that’s much worse than swearing, so I’ll save my comments. Now, please clarify for me . . . do you want to dig up a tomb? Or do you want to find a crucifix?”
“Are you trying to mess with my head? I want the crucifix, of course. Why would I want to dig up a grave?”
“I certainly wouldn’t want to,” Ciaran muttered.
Madeline waited for a buzz on her phone—the agreed-upon signal of good news from Tadgh. There was nothing.
“There are two possible locations of the crucifix—one is here, and the other one is in the ruined compartment around the corner. That part has not been restored, thus there is no light of any sort inside. I thought you might want to dig in here first, as it’s warm and cozy.”
“Dig? I thought you said no tomb digging?”
“No, I said no tomb. I didn’t say anything about no digging.”
Madeline felt as if her head was about to burst. Tadgh, Tadgh, Tadgh!!! What is he doing? What about Stephen? Where is he? How long can Ciaran drag this out?
“What the fuck are you doing? You really want to mess me up?” Zen’s face started to turn red.
“I want to get out of here more than you do, Zen. If you want your reward, you’re going to have to work for it. You want the crucifix? Then you’ve got to dig,” Ciaran stated firmly.
“I won’t do any digging. You’ll have to dig.” Zen threw a tantrum.
Ciaran smiled. “It’s bad luck to disturb spirits in a place like this. So no, I won’t be doing any digging.”
The phone in Madeline’s pocket buzzed. At the same time, a car alarm sang loudly from the distance.
“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” Zen screamed and rushed outside the room. Ciaran stopped him with a kick. Zen rolled over, falling back inside the abbey. Ciaran pulled his gun and pointed it at Zen.
On the ground, Zen grabbed a wooden bow, an exhibit item next to a statue of a monk praying, and blasted dust at Ciaran’s face. He followed with a kick to Ciaran’s gun, and before Ciaran knew it, Zen swung a displayed scepter at Ciaran’s head. Ciaran dropped to the floor. Madeline pulled her little gun out, and at the same time, Zen pulled his gun.
They stood facing each other, at point blank range. Saying nothing, Madeline pulled the trigger, aiming straight at Zen. Zen did the same thing. Ciaran pulled at Madeline from the ground, and she fell over and out of the bullet’s range. The bullet put a large ding on the wall behind her.
Zen took the opportunity to run from of the chapel. Then from the outside, Zen kicked the heavy oak door closed and jammed the outside with some wood logs.
“Goddamn it!” Ciaran kicked at the door although he knew it wouldn’t help. Madeline tried to call Tadgh, but the signal wouldn’t pierce the thick stone walls.
There was a display table showing visitors how the abbey was built and the process used to make the stone walls. Ciaran grabbed the steel hammer from the display and used it to hit at the door handle until the wood logs on the outside gave way.
Cold wind slapped at their faces when they ran outside. “This way.” Ciaran pointed toward the bush.
Madeline didn’t know where the light was coming from, but she could see the shadows of weird-looking tree branches reaching out across the ground from the darkness, twining together as if they were holding hands to create an evil web in which to ensnare them. She kept running and trying to work the phone at the same time.
They could see Zen stumbling in the bushes. Madeline heard water splashing against the shore. The unmistakable sound of water, a lot of it. Then she remembered—there was a lake, a very large one, and there might be some swampy areas.
They seemed to be walking along a small bridge. It was really dark. Something that looked like an enormous bat flew at her. Madeline yelped and lost her balance, but Ciaran caught her.
Zen’s turned. He saw them. He spun around again, then stumbled over something and fell. He stood up quickly and ran.
In another direction, they could see Tadgh approaching. He sprinted quickly in the dark. Madeline didn’t think Tadgh saw them, but he certainly caught sight of Zen. He charged toward him.
Ciaran took off as fast as he could. Madeline couldn’t keep up.
Then there was another set of footsteps, loud and clear. Madeline looked around, but she couldn’t see who it was.
Ciaran had disappeared into the darkness. She had to follow him. She kept running.
She was soon catching up with Ciaran and could see him approaching Zen from behind. Tadgh was running straight toward Zen. It was so dark. The shadows kept switching on and off and jumping around from the dim light shining down from somewhere in the sky. It felt as if there was moonlight, but it was too hard to tell.
Tadgh just realized he was running straight for Zen when Zen raised his gun. It was too late for Tadgh. There wasn’t much he could do. It was too dark to seek something to hide behind. The only thing around Tadgh was shadow filled with thin, chilly air. For a moment, looking straight at the gun muzzle, Tadgh could feel the brush of death.
A gunshot echoed in the air.
Zen’s body slumped down to the cold mud, his gun still in his hand. Tadgh could see Ciaran standing tall behind Zen’s body.
Ciaran had shot Zen.
Madeline approached from behind Ciaran, and then from the side, Stephen appeared. Stephen saw Ciaran holding the gun. The scent of gunpowder still hovered in the air. Stephen approached, holding his hand out for Ciaran’s gun.
“He would have shot Tadgh if Ciaran hadn’t shot him first.” Madeline cried, grabbing Stephen’s arm. Stephen shrugged her hands off. This was the first time since they had known each other that Stephen had acted like this.
“Ciaran’s a civilian. He has no right to execute another man, criminal or not. And it wasn’t in self-defense,” Stephen stated clearly.
Ciaran said nothing. He gave Stephen his gun.
“No, no . . .” Tadgh charged forward as if he was going to take Stephen down.
Ciaran grabbed Tadgh, stopping him from attacking Stephen.
“Jo.” Ciaran snapped back to reality and ran back to the car.
34
The car park was dark. The air was deadly quiet. Ciaran ran, and in front of him was one vision—Jo lying in the car, dead. It was too dark to tell, and much too quiet for his liking. The others were calling him from far back, but he ignored them. If anything had happened to Jo, it would be his fault.
He had severely underestimated Zen. Sometimes his arrogance was his worst enemy. He’d had no right to assume that Zen was stupid.
The car stood lonely in the car park.
He reached the car before Madeline and opened the car door. It was totally empty.
Stephen approached and shined a light into the car.
&n
bsp; “The car is empty, Ciaran. Jo isn’t here,” Stephen said.
“But we saw her!” Madeline asked.
Ciaran looked at the car floor. He saw a box that looked like a mini projector. “Oh, fuck me . . . it was a fucking hologram!” Ciaran grunted out the words in frustration. He kicked the car. He could feel his blood boiling, and soon his rage would come. He turned around, looking for Madeline. For the first time in his life, during a chaotic moment when he was confused and afraid of his own rage, he needed to hold on to her.
She was his constant.
Before he could say anything, and before the rage he was afraid of flooded his mind like tidal waves, Madeline interlaced the small delicate fingers of her hand with his. Warm. Steady. And she just looked at him. And somehow, he just knew his rage wouldn’t surface this time.
From the far end of the car park, the deep voice of Detective Adamson yelled, “I’m calling the crew back. We should wrap up here.”
Stephen, Madeline, and Ciaran walked toward Adamson. The detective continued. “What’s with Zen? Bullet in the head!”
Stephen looked at Ciaran. Madeline looked at Stephen. Ciaran said nothing.
Stephen’s eyes paused on Ciaran’s face for a moment, and then he pulled Ciaran’s gun out. Stephen said calmly, “I announced myself and asked the offender to put his weapon down. He was aiming at Ciaran. Then he swung the gun at me. So I had to get the gun off him. We struggled. Then Ciaran jumped in, and the gun went off. Apparently, Zen took the stray bullet. I followed protocol, detective.”
Adamson nodded. “I need the report in writing.”
Stephen nodded.
As Adamson gathered his team together, Ciaran approached Stephen. “Thank you. I owe you one.”
“Was the gun registered under your name?” Stephen asked.
Ciaran shook his head, and Stephen nodded.
Madeline approached and looked at Stephen with appreciation.
Ciaran glanced around, looking for his brother, and saw Tadgh approaching the car. He could see a small dot of red light flashing from under the car, close to the rear wheel.
