False Prophet: The gripping breakthrough thriller (A Saul Marshall Thriller 1)

by Richard Davis

  I nodded. She continued:

  ‘I can’t remember exactly, but I’d say that the house consisted of maybe twelve rooms. The nine cultists living there aside from your son, though not Inner Sanctum members, were still very much radical and all undoubtedly belonged to a class of cultist whose families thought they’d gone missing without trace.’

  ‘And you’re sure these same people will still be living there? That Samuel will still be living there?’

  ‘I can’t be certain; but there’s a strong chance.’

  Silence fell for a moment, then Lilly said:

  ‘I’ll give you some time to digest this while I shower. I’ll answer any questions when I’m out.’

  I glanced at the bedside clock, which read 6:32 a.m., then nodded.

  ‘I’ll be in the living-room.’

  The first thing I did when I got downstairs was call The Eliot Hotel on Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, and book a room for the night under the fictional name on one of my emergency credit cards, organizing for it to be ready for our arrival in under three hours’ time. My instinct, drilled into me from my HRT days, was to establish a command-post in close proximity to where an operation was due to take place. The Eliot seemed as good a place as any, given that at just under a mile away from Columbus Square – which I knew to be in the South End of the city – it was neither too near nor too far from the action.

  Then, back on the computer, I brought up maps and satellite images of Columbus Square. It was a line of twelve terraced houses, set back from the main road behind a slither of greenery. Just as Spender had said, between the service road which ran behind the houses and the gardens there was a space populated by a number of tall trees which concealed these gardens from view. The image I found of the front of Number Nine also matched Spender’s account, showing a four story town-house. But what Spender hadn’t mentioned was the fact that the front entrances to Nine and Ten were side-by-side. I knew this could imply something potentially pivotal: that at one point, Nine and Ten might’ve been one property.

  Spurred by this theory, I scoured the internet, and managed to find the floor plan of Number Nine. Sure enough, it showed that in the back bedroom on the fourth floor there was a door leading to Number Ten. Immediately, I started thinking about how this could be exploited. And though my gut said I couldn’t use it to enter Number Nine – there was no way the neighbors would believe that a lone FBI agent wanted to launch a surprise attack on the next-door property – I reckoned I could use it to exit Number Nine. If I could get Samuel unconscious, I could put him over my shoulder, knock down the partitioning door, and make my escape through Number Ten before the neighbors could even think to call the police…

  But if I wanted to use this escape plan, I needed to figure out a way of getting to Samuel on the fourth floor. Because I knew fighting my way up wasn’t an option: not only would one of us probably end up dying, but the racket would undoubtedly attract police well before I’d made it to the top. So I had to think of another way… Then I recalled how, back in Mineral, I’d momentarily confused a group of cultists by wearing a purple hood.

  I was jogged from these thoughts by Lilly entering the room. She was wearing a soft rust-colored dress, but her body was still hard and tense. She looked at the computer monitor, which was still showing the floor-plan, then said:

  ‘Scoping out the place?’

  I nodded. ‘According to the floor plan, in the bedroom down the hall from Samuel’s there’s a door that used to connect the property to the neighboring house. Did you see it?’

  She narrowed her eyes in thought. ‘I think I did… during a brief tour of the house. I seem to recall a big door on the right-hand side as you enter that room. It was thoroughly bolted, as far as I can remember.’

  ‘Right. Well, I’m thinking that if can neutralize Samuel, I could use this as a getaway route, and escape through the neighboring house. But the question is: how do I get to Samuel’s room in the first place? I can’t fight my way up, it’s too dangerous.’

  Again, Lilly’s eyes went thoughtful.

  ‘You could just do what I did,’ she said at last. ‘I mean, if you put on a purple hood, you could pretend to be an Inner Sanctum member. That ought to be enough to get you a private reception with Samuel in his room.’

  This was precisely the idea that’d occurred to me when Lilly had walked in but I hadn’t been sure it was feasible.

  ‘Obviously they wouldn’t see my face,’ I said. ‘But won’t they realize I’m not who I say I am on the basis of my body shape, height, skin color…?’

  Lilly shook her head.

  ‘There are members of The Inner Sanctum who the other nine cultists living in that house will have never met. And even Samuel, who has probably met everyone in The Sanctum at some point, will not remember certain members well enough to recognize them without seeing their faces.’ She paused. ‘What might give you away, though, is your voice – your son might recognize that.’

  ‘That won’t be a problem, I can alter it,’ I said assuredly. ‘So which member of The Inner Sanctum should I impersonate?’

  She closed her eyes a moment. ‘I reckon your best bet is Ayin. Aside from the fact he’s a good match physically – he’s white, about your height, similar build – he’s also a particularly reclusive character. He’s one of the original fifteen and, crucially, doesn’t like to mix with anyone below his station, including newer members of the Sanctum. This means he’s likely to have had minimal contact with everyone in the house, including your son.

  ‘Also, his accent isn’t too different from yours – you both sound like New Yorkers – though his voice is a little deeper, with a slight Harlem twang.’

  ‘A bit like this?’ I said, altering my voice.

  She looked impressed. ‘Yes, that’s good.’

  ‘Okay. So I need to get into the garden, put on a hood, then knock on the door…’

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘And when the person within asks who it is, say: It is Ayin of The Sanctum – Taprobana. Then, once inside, greet the person – calling them ‘my son’ if they’re male or ‘my daughter’ if they’re female – and ask to meet with Samuel; though you must call him by his cult name, Resh.’

  ‘Got it. But give me a bit more of this cult vocabulary just in case I find myself in a position in which I need to say more.’

  She nodded. ‘They call members of the establishment false prophets, the uninitiated systemites, and blood relatives flesh-manacles. A mislocation is a mistake, and any kind of behavior that goes against the cult’s code of conduct is described as degraded. If you find yourself needing more than that, you’re saying too much – Ayin’s not a talkative personality.’

  ‘Understood,’ I said. ‘So I get inside, say I want to meet with Resh, and they’ll lead me upstairs to Samuel’s room? And then they’ll just leave us alone to speak in private?

  ‘I can’t guarantee it but that’s what I’d expect. Though bear in mind that once you’re alone with Samuel, you’ll be expected to remove your hood immediately. So whatever you have planned at that point, well, do it quick.’

  I took a deep breath, let out a low whistle, then said:

  ‘Right, the plan as it stands. We drive to Boston as soon as possible, park around the corner from Columbus Square, then take a cab to The Eliot Hotel on Commonwealth Avenue where I’ve booked a room. Then, once we’re ready, I’ll take a cab back to the service road behind Columbus Square, and put what we’ve just discussed into action. After I have Samuel, and have made my escape through Number Ten, I’ll throw him into the Murano and drive…’

  I trailed off. There was no denying this plan was beyond mad. And there was so much that could go wrong. What if this door was harder to break down than I anticipated? What if the neighbors had obstructed the other side with heavy furniture? What if the cultists didn’t take me up for a private meeting with Samuel? What if they realized I wasn’t Ayin?

  But at the same time, of all the courses of action ope
n to me to try and get Samuel, it was the one most likely to work. And it was of utmost importance that I did try something, because I knew I might not get another chance. And there were so many things that could happen that would make rescuing Samuel a lot harder, or even impossible. I could end up arrested; Drexler could realize I was still alive, and take measures to put Samuel out of reach; or the FBI could realize Samuel was a terrorist, and start hunting him themselves.

  My plan was mad but I had to try it.

  I looked back to Lilly and was struck by her appearance: she was shaking a lot. And suddenly I remembered the risks she was facing. By infiltrating this safe-house I was telling Drexler that Lilly was still alive and had leaked secretive information about the cult and this meant she was going to be incurring his wrath. And judging by her appearance, this was something she knew only too well. In exchange for this information, I had a responsibility to ensure her safety.

  ‘Lilly,’ I said gently. ‘Once I’ve retrieved Samuel, I think it’s best we part ways – I don’t think it’s safe for you to be around him. But obviously as a result of me doing this, you’ll be back on Drexler’s radar and you’ll need protection. I think the best option is for you to seek refuge at the Boston FBI Field Office. I received notice from a source within the FBI that last night they finally discovered that The Order was behind this past week’s attacks, so they’ll be very interested in keeping you safe when they hear who you are. Their address is: One Center Plaza, Suite 600, Somerset Street.’

  I wrote this on a nearby piece of paper and handed it to Lilly.

  ‘Get a cab there twenty-five minutes after I’ve left for Columbus Square,’ I added. ‘That way, you can tell them the truth about why you’re in Boston without jeopardizing my plans. If you tell them any sooner, there’s a chance their response will cause me trouble. But it’s important that you do tell them the truth about why you’re in Boston – and everything else: the more truth you tell them, the safer you’ll be.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘And thank you,’ I said sincerely. ‘I know by telling me this, you’ve put yourself at risk. I really appreciate your bravery.’

  ‘Okay,’ she repeated. This time, her voice wavered and she avoided my eyes.

  With that, an uncomfortable silence stretched out between us. But then I noticed the clock on the computer was already showing five past seven, and quickly put an end to it. We needed to get moving.

  ‘Do you think you could fashion me a purple hood on the way there?’ I asked.

  She nodded. ‘I saw a sheet in the airing cupboard I could use.’

  ‘Perfect. I’m just going to make a quick phone-call, then let’s get out of here.’

  Once again I retreated upstairs and dialed Giles.

  ‘Saul. What’ve you got for me?’ he said.

  ‘Have you heard about Hastings-on-Hudson?’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  ‘Another murder,’ I said. ‘But crucially it was the chair of a small anti-cult group that’s been opposing The Order for years. In short, Drexler has used this to reveal to the authorities that The Order was responsible for everything that’s happened this week. I heard this from Parkes not ten minutes ago.’

  ‘So we’re moving into open warfare – FBI versus The Order?’ he said.

  ‘Right’

  ‘Did she give you shit?’

  ‘I gave as good as I got. But there’s more.’

  ‘More?’

  ‘Spender has information. She told me about a house in Boston where she thinks Samuel could be living along with nine other cultists. I’m going to try and retrieve him.’

  ‘What’s the address?’ he said.

  ‘Nine Columbus Square.’

  ‘And you’re sure Samuel’s there?’

  ‘No. But there’s a good chance.’

  ‘So what’s your plan?’

  ‘To masquerade as a member of the cult, get Samuel alone, then knock him out. From there, I have an escape route lined up…’

  Giles was quiet a moment. I could tell he was weighing up whether to ask for more details. But in the end, he decided against it.

  ‘Foolproof,’ he said at last.

  ‘The next time I speak to you,’ I said forcefully, ‘I will have Samuel.’

  ‘Good luck,’ he replied. ‘You’re gonna need it.’

  When I came downstairs, I found Lilly looking on edge, but ready to go. So I didn’t hang about. I led the way to the car and fired up the engine. But despite what I’d said to Giles, I wasn’t feeling assured, I was feeling anxious. And not just because of the magnitude of the task ahead. But also because I was beginning to think that maybe Lilly’s unease didn’t indicate fear. That maybe it indicated she was deceiving me.

  Chapter 32

  Friday, March 1, 2013, 6:59am, CST – 7505 South Laflin Street, Englewood, Chicago.

  Once again, Francis Bindle was sitting by the telephone in the control room, waiting for a phone-call from Director Muldoon. About thirty minutes ago he’d been shown a second segment of news, which had informed him about a gas attack and bombing in Manhattan. The person who’d shown him this footage – and was instigating proceedings in general – was not, this time, the man Francis knew as Zahir, but Dennis Ericson, flanked by the woman he knew as Shin. Yet Francis wasn’t thinking about where Zahir might be, nor about the victims in Manhattan. He was thinking about the information he had to convey to keep his brother alive.

  At seven, the phone rang. Francis activated the speakerphone.

  ‘Hello, Robin.’

  ‘Francis.’

  ‘We’re still on?’

  ‘We are,’ said Muldoon firmly. ‘Headquarters is chaotic, because aside from Manhattan, we also had a revelation last night: we discovered who’s behind this all – a small, esoteric cult called The Order of Babylon. They were nowhere near our radar; a bolt from the blue. But on a personal level, there’s very little I can do at this point. I’ve got all my heads of departments calling the shots in their respective areas, doing all they can. So I’m happy to go ahead with this. After all, if I do need to make decisions, I can make them remotely.’

  Francis responded with a reflective silence.

  ‘So I’ll have the details when you’re ready,’ Muldoon prompted.

  ‘Here’s what I’ve got,’ said Francis. ‘The provisional plan is to get the operation at Glenview underway at 12:30 CST on March 4, though that time is flexible, since we have complete autonomy over the area beyond the East Gate from midnight tomorrow. The money has been made available, and has already been delivered to Glenview.

  ‘As far as your transportation to Glenview is concerned, I’ve organized for you to be picked up at Hoover at 9:20 a.m. EST by Quinn, who’ll take you to Dulles. Your flight from there is chartered at 11:00 EST, and your estimated time of arrival at O’Hare is 11:20 CST. In the VIP Reception Room you’ll be met by Dom McElroy, from the Chicago Field Office, who’ll drive you to Glenview, where you should arrive no later than 12:05. To get beyond security at the perimeter you’ll need to display Bureau Identification and quote the code-word Saturn. I’ll be there to meet you within the perimeter.

  ‘In terms of who knows what, I’ve told people only what they need to know. McElroy knows that he’ll be transporting you to Glenview, and nothing more; whereas the Station Commander at Glenview knows only that this has something to do with Yemen.’

  Francis paused a moment: ‘You got all that?’

  Muldoon quickly repeated the details.

  ‘Precisely,’ said Francis.

  Robin grunted his satisfaction. ‘Then I think that’s everything. I’ll call you the same time Sunday morning for final confirmation. Thank you for organizing this, Francis.’

  ‘You can count on me.’

  Chapter 33

  Friday, March 1, 2013, 9:23 a.m. EST – The Eliot Hotel, Commonwealth Avenue, Boston.

  As soon as the cab dropped us off outside The Eliot Hotel, I knew Lilly had betrayed me to The Order. I k
new because there were two Order men staking out the hotel – one standing on the opposite pavement, on the phone, and another half a block away, to my west, smoking a roll-up – both looking perfectly innocuous and relaxed. Of course, it was precisely this heightened nonchalance that gave them away. There’s an almost imperceptible gap between at ease, and a capable imitation of at ease, but I could spot the difference.

  I responded to these men the only way it was wise: I acted like I hadn’t seen anything, and calmly led Lilly into the hotel and over to reception. But despite my cool exterior, I was furious with myself because I’d made a cataclysmic error. I’d realized there was a possibility that Lilly was concealing something, but I’d treated the situation lightly. I’d decided that if she was concealing something, it had to be something relatively minor and, of all things, that it couldn’t possibly be that she’d told The Order I was still alive. After all, there were only two conceivable reasons why she’d have done such a thing – either in the hope they might spare her life in return, or out of some perverse residual loyalty to the cult – and both had just seemed too far-fetched to seriously entertain. So I’d decided to dismiss the issue for the time being, and question her at The Eliot.

  However, it was now abundantly clear that she had betrayed me to The Order and must’ve done so after I’d told her about The Eliot. And because I hadn’t taken my suspicions about Lilly seriously enough, this situation was now a whole lot worse than The Order merely knowing I was alive. They now knew exactly where I was…

  But when we got in the elevator and started making our ascent, I knew I couldn’t afford to berate myself any longer. These watchers were a sign that my life was under threat since it stood to reason that after what’d happened in Manhattan, they were going to try and finish the job. And not a moment after I thought this I began speculating where an attack could come from and what form it might take. It seemed to me the danger could be lurking extremely nearby: in the corridor at the other end of the elevator, or in the bedroom… And the forms it could take were endless… Perhaps a gunman… Perhaps another bundle of Semtex, wired to the bedroom’s door… Perhaps – well, perhaps just about anything.