by K. M. Ashman
He stood up, placed his foot into Jacob’s shattered knee and twisted it downwards, causing the caretaker’s son to scream in agony once again.
‘The clock is ticking, young man,’ said Gatilusi.
‘It’s not here,’ shouted Jacob through the pain, ‘I don’t know where it is.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Gatilusi, ‘the doctors may be able to fix what is left of your leg but if I do the other one, it’s at least a wheelchair job. Thirty seconds to regain your memory.’
India walked over and joined Brandon.
‘There’s no sign of her,’ she said, ‘I’ve checked all the cells and Camille isn’t here.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Brandon, ‘she must be here somewhere.’
‘Ten seconds,’ said Gatilusi.
‘Don’t do this,’ said Brandon.
‘Shut up,’ said Gatilusi, ‘time’s up.’ He aimed the gun at Jacob’s other knee.
‘Stop,’ shouted Sister Agnes, ‘for the love of god, you have to stop this madness.’
‘And who are you?’ asked Gatilusi.
‘I am Sister Agnes,’ said the nun, ‘nothing is worth the death of any individual. Why are you here, what is it you want?’
Gatilusi lifted his gun.
‘At last,’ he said, ‘someone with a bit of sense. It is very simple, sister, I want the Palladium and your master here reckons it’s not here.’
She looked down at the semi-conscious man.
‘He is telling the truth,’ she said, ‘it isn’t.’
‘Wrong answer,’ said Gatilusi and aimed the gun again.
‘Wait,’ shouted the nun, ‘I am telling the truth. The Palladium is not here and hasn’t been for over a thousand years.’
‘That’s not true,’ said Gatilusi, ‘I know it is here. We have evidence that Rubria came to Britain and brought the Palladium with her.’
‘She did,’ said Sister Agnes, ‘but it is not here in this convent.’
‘Do you know where it is?’ asked Gatilusi.
‘In a manner of speaking,’ said Agnes.
‘Then what are we waiting for?’ asked the Greek, ‘take me to it.’
‘I can’t,’ said Sister Agnes.
‘Oh for Christ’s sake,’ said Gatilusi looking upwards, ‘will everyone stop playing these stupid games.’ His voice rose in anger. ‘Last chance, Sister,’ he shouted and placed the gun against Jacob’s head, ‘take me to the Palladium or this man dies right now.’
‘I can’t,’ shouted Sister Agnes in terror, ‘it is buried with Rubria.’
The room fell silent before Gatilusi spoke again.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘You are correct,’ said Agnes, ‘Rubria did indeed bring the Palladium here and this place stems from her devotion but she never got to see this temple. Not long after she arrived, she died in childbirth. The following she had already built up buried the Palladium with her in tribute to her holiness.’
‘In here?’
‘No, this place came later.’
‘Then, where?’
‘Nobody knows. There was probably a tomb at one stage but it has been lost over the centuries. The Palladium, along with the remains of Rubria has been lost forever.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Gatilusi eventually.
‘Why would I lie?’ asked Agnes gently, ‘I have nothing to gain.’
‘Except to retain possession of the Palladium,’ said Gatilusi.
‘The Palladium was a piece of wood,’ said Agnes, ‘we worship the Holy Mother. Her aura is of peace, love and family, not pain and death. We do not need a redundant piece of wood to honour her name.’
Gatilusi lowered his gun.
‘This is true?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Agnes, ‘in the name of all that is holy, I give you my word.’
‘And nobody knows where she is buried?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘You said she had a child,’ said Gatilusi, ‘are there any descendants?’
‘No records,’ said Agnes, ‘we know she had a girl but history has forgotten her.’
‘Then who built this?’ he asked, looking around.
‘Her slave,’ said Agnes, ‘the one after whom we take our name, Rose.’
‘Santa Rosa,’ murmured India, as she realised the link.
‘She carried on the message,’ said Agnes, ‘and we base our devotion on hers. She ensured the traditions continued long after Rubria’s death.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Brandon, ‘there’s a temple of Vesta less than five miles away. Why build that so close to here?’
‘We are not quite sure but we believe it was as a sop to local Roman dignitaries. They focussed on the marble and ceremonies of the typical Roman temple while the true devotions continued down here out of public view.’
‘Bullshit,’ said India suddenly.
They all turned to face her.
‘What?’ asked Brandon.
‘You heard me,’ said India, ‘she’s lying.’
They turned to the nun.
‘I don’t know who you are, young lady,’ said the nun ‘but I assure you, I am telling the truth.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said India.
‘Why would I lie?’ asked the nun.
‘I’ll tell you why,’ snapped India, ‘to take the focus from what it is you really do here and to ensure that this sick cult of abduction and murder is never opened up to the scrutiny of justice.’
‘Murder?’ gasped Sister Agnes, ‘what on earth are you talking about?’
‘You know exactly what I am talking about,’ said India, ‘I am talking about abducting innocent children and forcing them into your service and then disposing of them brutally when they are past their sell by date.’
Sister Agnes stared at her in horror.
‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ she said.
‘Then look around you,’ shouted India, ‘there are six children here, all forced against their will to serve some defunct deity instead of running around in playgrounds having fun. Heaven knows what torture their parents are going through, they probably think they are already dead.’
‘I think you misunderstand,’ said Agnes.
‘Then why don’t you enlighten me?’
‘The parents of every child you see have placed them here voluntarily. All were either destitute or terminally ill and saw our order as the chance for their children to have the best start in life. They are well fed, have daily schooling and if you had bothered to look around, you would see we have dormitories and even a playground. Yes, they are schooled in the ways of Vesta but there is no difference to any other religion. They are happy here and when the time is right, they have the option to either leave the order or stay and take our message of peace and love across the world.’
‘But the cells…’ started India.
‘Ceremonial purposes only,’ said Agnes, ‘used only on special occasions to recreate the glorious days of Vesta.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said India, hesitantly.
‘Then ask them yourself,’ said Agnes standing to one side.
India did not move.
‘Then why was India abducted?’ asked Brandon.
‘I have no knowledge of that,’ said Agnes.
Brandon turned his attention to the wounded man at his feet.
‘What about you, Jacob?’ asked Brandon, ‘you must know the answer, why did you abduct India?’
‘Please, I need an ambulance,’ answered Jacob weakly.
‘Answer the question,’ snarled Gatilusi.
‘You heard him,’ said Brandon, ‘answer the question or I won’t be responsible for his actions.’
‘I was ordered to,’ said Jacob, still staring at the floor.
‘Speak up.’ shouted Gatilusi.
‘I was ordered to,’ shouted Jacob, ‘I was given her name and location from one of the elders over the phone and told to use her as lever
age.’
‘But why?’ asked Sister Agnes.
‘Because they were getting too close to the truth, they thought that we could use the girl to make the cop back off.’
‘And if I didn’t?’ asked Brandon.
‘Then you would both disappear,’ answered Jacob quietly.
‘But to what purpose?’ asked Sister Agnes, ‘we have nothing to hide.’
Jacob laughed sarcastically.
‘You really don’t know, do you?’
‘Know what?’
‘What this place really is, or rather, what it has become?’
‘I don’t understand, tell me.’
‘Have you ever met the parents of these children?’ asked Jacob.
‘No, but…’
‘Exactly and you never will. The girl is right, most were abducted at an early age and have no memory of their previous lives. When they leave this place, they don’t go back to their families, they spend the rest of their lives in relative slavery for some of the wealthiest people on the planet.’
Sister Agnes gasped.
‘No,’ she said, ‘it is not true. They leave this place at the age of sixteen and join convents all around the world.’
‘They are sent all around the world, all right,’ said Jacob, ‘shared out between the elders of the cult for their own perverted pleasures. Rich old men pay good money for virgins these days.’
‘No,’ shouted Agnes, ‘it’s not true, it can’t be.’
‘Why are you telling us this?’ asked Brandon quietly, ‘you must realise you are facing a long time in prison.’
‘I am going nowhere,’ said Jacob.
‘And what makes you think you are safe?’ asked Gatilusi.
Jacob looked up at him in derision.
‘You think I came down here without raising the alarm?’ he asked, ‘even as we speak, my people are probably on their way. You will never get out of here alive.’
‘It was you, wasn’t it,’ gasped Agnes, ‘you killed the Mother Superior.’
‘So what, she was dying anyway and I just wanted to wipe that smug look off that self-righteous face of hers before she did. Since I was a little boy, she has taken every opportunity to berate me and remind me I am just the caretaker’s son. She has made my family’s lives a misery as long as I can remember and when the last Pontifex Maximus died, I was approached to become the eyes and ears of the elders. Only she stood above me in the order but now the roles are reversed and I have the control.’
Gatilusi grimaced and pressed his gun at the man’s head once more.
‘Don’t do it,’ said India, quietly, ‘we need him.’
‘Why?’ snarled Gatilusi, barely holding his temper, ‘what’s to stop me putting a bullet in his perverted brain right now?’
‘Because he might know where Camille is.’
The nun looked at India.
‘Who is Camille?’ she asked.
‘A ten year old girl who was abducted from London by one of your people,’ said India, ‘and I think he had something to do with it.’
‘Why?’
‘Probably because he wanted some of the action himself,’ ventured Brandon. ‘Isn’t that right, Jacob? They may have given you the semblance of power but in reality, you are just another pawn in the game. You do all the work and the faceless ones get all the pleasure. I think you used the contacts of the order in London to get young girls of your own.’
Jacob didn’t answer.
‘That’s it, isn’t it, Jacob? Everyone else was doing it so why couldn’t you? You enjoyed the protection of this organisation and believed you were untouchable. How many were there Jacob, two, more, perhaps dozens? Where are they now, Jacob? What have you done with them?’
‘You think you know all the answers,’ sneered Jacob, ‘but there are things not even you know. Yes there have been girls but it was no more than I deserved.’
‘You killed those two poor girls as well, didn’t you?’ said India.
‘What girls?’ asked Sister Agnes.
‘There were two young girls murdered beneath Victoria station in London. One was flogged to death and one was crucified. She was wearing a necklace with a coin as a pendant, Phillip of Macedonia.’
The nun’s hand went to her own throat.
‘Like this?’ she asked and pulled out a chain.
‘Exactly the same,’ said India.
‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ said Brandon, turning once again to Jacob, ‘you gave them a similar necklace as a gift before you killed them.’
‘What if it was me?’ asked Jacob, ‘they deserved it.’
‘What girl deserves to be crucified?’ gasped India.
‘Un-pure ones,’ screamed Jacob, ‘I thought they were virgins but they weren’t. They were harlots and I deserve purity, I am the Pontifex Maximus. The punishment for impurity is clear and she had to be punished.’
‘Oh my god,’ said India, ‘how many others were there?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Jacob.
‘Of course it matters,’ shouted India, ‘how many have you killed?’
‘I don’t know,’ shouted Jacob, holding his head in his hands, ‘I don’t remember.’
‘What about Camille?’ asked Brandon quietly, ‘did you abduct here as well, Jacob.’
‘The girl from outside the hotel?’
‘Yes.’
‘She is so pretty,’ said Jacob, ‘and so young. You would think she would be pure but even she needs to be punished.’
‘Bullshit,’ shouted India, ‘she was only ten, of course she was pure. You are nothing more than a cold blooded murderer, looking for excuses to justify the killings.’
‘What did he say?’ asked Brandon suddenly, interrupting the girl.
They all looked at him.
‘Sorry,’ said India, ‘what do you mean?’
‘He said ‘is,’ not ‘was.’ Camille is alive.’
They turned back to Jacob.
‘Is she, Jacob?’ asked Brandon, ‘is Camille still alive?’
Jacob stared at the intense look on Brandon’s face and started to giggle.
‘Might be,’ he said, ‘I don’t know really, it’s in the hands of the goddess.’
The sound of voices and running feet echoed from the entrance passage above.
‘What do you mean, in the hands of the goddess?’ shouted Brandon, grabbing him by the collar, ‘where is she, you fucking pervert?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ laughed Jacob hysterically, ‘it’s too late.’ He looked up as several men burst into the room and spread out along the landing, each pointing a pistol down into the cavern.
Brandon stared up at the six men.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ he said quietly, anticipating Gatilusi’s next move.
Gatilusi lowered his gun back to his side and they stood waiting for someone to speak. A grey suited man in dark glasses followed the rest into the room and stood at the top of the stairs.
‘You,’ he shouted, ‘put the gun down.’
Gatilusi crouched slowly and put the gun on the floor.
‘Kick it away from you.’
The gun went spinning across the floor.
‘Right, caretaker, what is going on here?’
‘They shot me,’ shouted Jacob, hysterically, ‘I need an ambulance.’
The man stared at him derisorily and turned to Brandon.
‘Mr Walker, we meet at last. I have to say you have caused our organisation a lot of hassle over the last few days. Still, nothing that can’t be resolved.’
‘And who are you?’ asked Brandon.
The man smiled sarcastically.
‘Call me Mr Smith,’ he said, ‘I represent this organisation.’
‘Armed division, I assume,’ sneered Brandon.
‘Something like that,’ answered Mr Smith. ‘So, out of curiosity, why have you gone to all this trouble?’
‘To find a missing girl,’ said Brandon, ‘we know she is around here somewhere a
nd I suggest you let her and the rest of us go before it is too late.’
‘Really, Mr Walker, I don’t think you are in any position to make any demands, do you?’
Brandon looked around, seeking a resolution to their dilemma.
‘Look, Mr Smith, or whatever your real name is. We don’t know what this is all about but there is an option here where everyone wins.’
‘Oh yes and what is that, exactly?’
‘You just leave us here and go back to wherever you came from.’
‘And why would we do that?’
‘Think about it,’ said Brandon, ‘there is no way you are going to get away with this. Within hours, Special Forces are going to be crawling all over this place but you still have time to get away and those children can get back to a normal life.’
‘Special Forces? and what makes you think there is any possibility of Special Forces coming here?’
‘Because I have already made the arrangements,’ said Brandon, ‘even as we speak they are probably on their way.’
‘Ah yes, the taxi driver,’ said Mr Smith. He fished in his pocket and threw down a phone to shatter at Brandon’s feet. ‘I think we can safely assume that call was never made.’
Brandon’s hopes plummeted as he realised they were isolated, no help was coming.
‘Enough nonsense,’ said Mr Smith, ‘Caretaker, what is the situation and how much do they know?’
‘Everything,’ said Jacob, grimacing in pain.
‘Everything?’
‘More or less.’
‘How very unfortunate,’ said Mr Smith, ‘still, at least it makes the solution simple.’
‘What are you going to do?’ asked India.
‘Unfortunately, I have no option but to remove you from the situation,’ he said menacingly.
‘What do you mean? Surely you’re not going to…?’
‘Oh but I am,’ said Mr Smith.
‘You can’t,’ shouted Brandon amongst the commotion.
‘And why not?’ asked Mr Smith.
‘For Christ’s sake,’ shouted Brandon, ‘you can’t kill us all, what about the children and the nuns?’
‘Nobody knows the children are here. They can be replaced, as can the nuns.’
‘But what about the rest of the nuns in the convent, you can’t cover up all their deaths.’
‘You are right,’ said Mr Smith, ‘but fortunately for them, none are aware of the existence of the inner order. They need not be harmed.’
