The Dead Virgins (The India Sommers Mysteries Book 1)

by K. M. Ashman

  ‘You are serious, aren’t you?’ said Brandon, taking a step forward. ‘You really mean to do it.’

  ‘It is unfortunate but yes,’ said Mr Smith.

  Brandon took a step sideways until he was almost directly in front of Gatilusi.

  ‘But surely that means the end of Mortuus Virgo,’ said Brandon, ‘why would you self-destruct?’

  ‘You think this has never happened before?’ laughed Mr Smith. ‘Over the centuries, the acolytes have been wiped out on many occasions and yes, sometimes at our own hands but it is not the end of Mortuus Virgo. There are places such as this all over the world. Don’t you worry about us, Mr Walker, we will endure.’

  ‘What about me?’ shouted Jacob.

  ‘You are no longer any use to us,’ said Mr Smith.

  ‘What do you mean?’ shouted Jacob, ‘I am one of you. You can’t kill me, I am the Pontifex Maximus.’

  ‘Really?’ said Mr Smith and turned his head to nod at one of his henchmen. A single shot rang out and a bullet smashed into Jacob’s chest.

  ‘Not anymore,’ said Smith.

  ----

  Gatilusi looked down and saw the gun tucked in the rear of Brandon’s trouser belt. Realising why Brandon had moved in front of him, he slowly drew the gun as gently as possible, keeping it low and out of sight.

  ‘Ready?’ he whispered, ‘after three.’

  Brandon nodded. If they were going down, they were going down fighting. He took a deep breath and braced himself.

  ‘One, two, three.’

  Brandon threw himself forward to where Gatilusi had kicked his own gun a few minutes earlier as Gatilusi opened fire at the men on the landing, catching them by surprise. The noise was deafening in the cavern and two of the men fell wounded to the floor, while the rest dropped down behind the perimeter wall.

  Brandon grabbed the gun discarded earlier and sent a few shots upwards to keep their heads down. The nuns grabbed the screaming children and ushered them down behind the rear of the wall surrounding the fire pit. Brandon raced around the fire and joined them.

  ‘What now?’ gasped Gatilusi, swapping weapons with Brandon.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Brandon, ‘but I’m not going to just sit back and take it. How many shots have you got?’

  ‘Two magazines,’ said Gatilusi, ‘forty rounds in total, you?’

  ‘Eighty,’ said Brandon. ‘Not a lot but it may keep them away or a while.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He turned to Sister Agnes.

  ‘Is there any other exit to this place?’ he asked.

  ‘Only the chamber of the Pontifex Maximus,’ she said pointing up to the balcony from where Jacob had descended earlier, ‘but I don’t know where it leads.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘this is what we will do. Gatilusi and I will give covering fire while you and your colleagues get everyone up those stairs as fast as you can.’

  ‘Will we have enough time?’ asked India.

  ‘We have enough rounds for just under a minute,’ said Brandon, reloading his pistol with a fresh magazine, ‘so when the shooting starts, make sure that everyone knows exactly what they must do. As soon as we run out of ammo, they will pick us off like rats in a barrel.’

  Thirty seconds later, India turned to Brandon.

  ‘Ready,’ she said, ‘they are scared but know what to do.’

  Brandon turned to Gatilusi.

  ‘Okay sharpshooter,’ he said, ‘as soon as the last one is up the stairs, you and I cover each other and follow them up, agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Gatilusi, ‘ready? Go!’

  Once more Brandon and Gatilusi jumped up and started firing at the balcony, only easing off when all the gunmen had dropped once more behind the wall. In his peripheral vision, he could see a line of children and the six nuns climbing the stair as fast as they could. Up above, Mr Smith realised what was happening and shouted an order to his men.

  ‘Get up,’ he screamed, ‘they’re getting away.’

  A few of the gunmen took their chances and sprang up to engage Gatilusi and Brandon. A hail of bullets flew in either direction as the fire- fight broke out, until at last, Brandon ducked once more behind the wall. He looked up at the doorway above and saw the back of India, disappearing through the archway.

  ‘Right,’ he said, ‘our turn. Ammo?’

  ‘Just a couple left,’ said Gatilusi. Brandon threw him his last magazine.

  ‘One full mag each,’ he said, ‘Make them count. Ready?’

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Gatilusi and jumped up to run toward the stairs.

  Brandon aimed up at the balcony and started to reverse toward the stairs, giving covering fire. Halfway up the steps, Gatilusi stopped and joined in the shooting to allow Brandon to catch up. The continued to cover each other until Brandon’s gun clicked on an empty magazine.

  ‘Empty,’ he shouted and turned to sprint the last few steps to the balcony, passing Gatilusi on the way.

  ‘Me too,’ said Gatilusi, as his gun fell silent. For a few seconds the cavern was quiet before the gunmen realised their advantage and jumped up to return the fire. As they raced through the archway, several shots ricotched off the rocky walls around them and into the space beyond.

  A few yards in, both men stopped in confusion. They had expected to find a passage of some sort but instead the found a small chamber, sealed at one end by a solid looking door, the only other way out. To one side, all the children and nuns were huddled together in a frightened group.

  ‘It’s locked,’ said India, a look of terror on her face.

  Brandon ran toward the door and examined it closely.

  ‘Can you break it down?’ asked India.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘it’s solid oak.’

  ‘Then we are trapped.’

  ‘Sorry, India,’ he said, ‘it was our only chance.’

  She stared at him for a while, before smiling gently and, tiptoeing up to reach him, kissed him gently on the lips.

  ‘What’s that for?’ he asked.

  ‘Just wanted to see what it felt like,’ she said, ‘before it is too late.’

  She smiled again and walked over to join the nuns as they sat the children down, cross-legged on the floor. Sister Agnes started a prayer.

  Brandon and Gatilusi watched them for a few minutes before Brandon reached down and slid out a knife from within the side of his boot.

  ‘What are you going to do with that?’ asked Gatilusi, ‘they’ve all got guns.’

  ‘I am going to try to reason with him,’ he said, ‘and if I can get close enough, perhaps I can take him hostage.’

  ‘That’s a shit idea,’ said Gatilusi.

  ‘Maybe it is,’ said Brandon, ‘but it’s the only one I’ve got left.’

  ‘They’ll never fall for it,’ said Gatilusi, ‘you won’t get halfway down the stairs.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ said Brandon, ‘but I’m not going to wait here and do nothing.’

  Gatilusi stepped forward and offered his hand in friendship.

  ‘Nice knowing you, Brandon,’ he said, ‘good luck.’

  Brandon hesitated but took the man’s hand.

  ‘You almost had it,’ he said.

  ‘The Palladium?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It wasn’t meant to be,’ said Gatilusi, ‘the goddess had us fooled all along.’

  ‘It seems like she did,’ said Brandon.

  He looked toward India who was busy comforting one of the crying girls. She looked up and after a moment, sent him a gentle smile.

  He nodded and smiled back.

  ‘Time to go,’ said Brandon and walked back toward the archway but as he entered the cavern, he was blown backwards by a blinding explosion.

  ----

  Chapter 36

  England 2010

  ‘Steady,’ said India, as Brandon struggled back to consciousness, ‘slowly does it.’

  Brandon groaned. He could feel India’s hands on his f
ace so knew he was lying on his back. His head ached and his skin felt hot. He knew something awful had happened but could not remember what. He opened his eyes slowly.

  ‘I can’t see,’ he said, ‘I’m blind.’

  ‘Don’t be so bloody dramatic,’ said a familiar male voice, ‘the effects will wear off soon enough.’

  ‘Who’s that,’ asked Brandon.

  ‘All in good time,’ said India, ‘you just rest for a few moments.’

  India poured some water from a bottle she had been given onto a handkerchief and dabbed it on Brandon’s face. Slowly, Brandon regained his senses and sat up. He looked around the room, his vision clearing up by the second.

  ‘Feeling better?’ asked India.

  ‘Much,’ said Brandon, ‘what happened?’

  ‘You happened,’ said India, ‘you saved us, Brandon.’

  ‘How? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Your mates, the special forces you promised,’ said India, ‘they turned up just in time. It seems you managed to send the signal after all.’

  Brandon patted his pockets.

  ‘I can’t have,’ said Brandon, ‘I don’t have my transceiver. I’ve lost it somewhere.’

  ‘Well, someone pressed the panic button,’ said a familiar voice, ‘and here we are. Just in time too, it would seem.’

  Brandon looked up at the Special Forces officer standing over him. He was dressed head to foot in black combat gear and the tinted visor of his assault helmet was lifted up revealing his sweating face.

  ‘Mike, you old bastard,’ said Brandon, ‘what are you doing here. I thought you were flying a desk these days.’

  ‘You didn’t think I was going to miss this one, did you?’ asked his old friend. ‘We’ve been following you for days. All other leads in the Camille case have come to nothing, so when it became clear your investigations were getting somewhere, we prepared for the worst. As soon as that signal came, we came in John Wayne style.’

  ‘But you told me the case was cancelled,’ said Brandon.

  ‘Had to’, said Mike, ‘boss’s orders. This thing is so sensitive, we had to keep you at arm’s length just in case you pissed someone off right at the top.’

  ‘Nice to feel wanted,’ said Brandon.

  ‘Come on, mate,’ said Mike, ‘you know the score.’

  ‘Just a number, right?’

  ‘Just a number,’ confirmed his friend.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Brandon, ‘how did it go?’

  ‘Seamless,’ said Mike, ‘caught them with their pants down, so to speak. No casualties on our side, though some of the bad guys will have a headache for days.’

  ‘I know how they feel,’ said Brandon, ‘what was that thing?’

  ‘Stun grenade,’ said Mike.

  ‘Naah, too big.’

  ‘New version,’ said Mike, ‘designed for larger spaces like this one, takes everyone out in one hit incapacitating anyone in range for over ten minutes.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Brandon, ‘that’s some firepower.’

  ‘It keeps the body count down,’ said Mike, ‘and you caught it full frontal. Anyway, how are you doing? Do you feel strong enough to shed some light on this mess?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Brandon, ‘help me up.’

  India and Mike took an arm each and lifted him to his feet.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ asked Brandon looking around.

  ‘They’re fine,’ said India, ‘they’ve been taken back through to the convent. A fleet of police cars and ambulances are on their way as we speak.’

  ‘What about Mr Smith and his friends?’

  ‘We’ve got them secured,’ said Mike, ‘borrowed some of the nun’s cells.’

  They made their way past the pulpit and down the wooden stairs to the cavern floor. Several soldiers were dotted around the room, automatic rifles held across their chest, alert to any further danger. Two more were kneeling down alongside someone in the centre, a rucksack open at their side. They had removed their helmets and flak jackets and were working furiously to save a wounded man.

  ‘Who’s that?’ asked Brandon.

  ‘Hoped you could tell me,’ he said, ‘got a smashed knee and a chest wound. We’re doing our best but I don’t think he’s going to make it.’

  ‘That’s Jacob,’ said Brandon, ‘the caretaker’s son and self-styled high priest. It seems like he is the one responsible for the two girls in Victoria.’

  ‘What about Camille?’ asked Mike, ‘any sign?’

  ‘No,’ said Brandon, ‘only he knows what happened to her. Let’s hope you can save him.’

  One of the medics stood up and approached Mike.

  ‘Sorry Boss,’ he said, ‘we managed to get a drip into him but he’s losing blood internally. He needs an operating theatre, not a medic.’

  ‘Shit,’ cursed Brandon, ‘can I talk to him?’

  The soldier looked at Mike, before answering.

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Mike, ‘he’s one of us.’

  The medic turned back to Brandon.

  ‘He is conscious,’ he said, ‘but only just. He won’t last long.’

  ‘Brandon walked over and knelt beside the dying man.

  ‘Jacob,’ he said, ‘can you hear me?’

  The man opened his eyes slowly.

  ‘What do you want?’ he asked weakly.

  ‘I want you to do the right thing, Jacob,’ said Brandon, ‘I want you to tell me where Camille is.’

  Jacob smiled weakly.

  ‘Oh yes, Camille. Still haven’t found her then?’

  ‘Is she still alive, Jacob?’

  ‘She may be,’ said Jacob, ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Then tell me where she is, Jacob, don’t let another little girl die for nothing.’

  ‘Am I dying?’ asked Jacob, weakly.

  Brandon nodded slowly.

  ‘You are,’ he said.

  ‘Then I have nothing to gain by telling you where she is,’ he said and closed his eyes.

  Brandon thought quickly.

  ‘Don’t do this, Jacob,’ he said, ‘in the name of Vesta, don’t let her die.’

  Brandon’s gamble paid off and at the sound of the goddess’s name, the dying man’s eyes flickered open.

  ‘Don’t you dare use her name in vain,’ he coughed, spraying spots of blood over Brandon’s face. ‘She is greater than anything this world has ever seen. Her name was ancient when Christianity hadn’t even been thought of.’

  ‘Are you a true follower, Jacob? Do you really believe?’

  ‘You know I do,’ said Jacob, ‘and I welcome this final journey with open arms.’

  ‘And how do you think you will be judged, Jacob? At the time of judgement, how do you think Vesta, the goddess of love, peace and harmony will see the terrible things you have done?’

  ‘She will know I acted always with her in mind,’ he said, ‘those who were punished died because they failed her expectations. They fell short of her high standards.’

  ‘Because they were not virgins?’

  ‘Exactly and died in the manner that all who failed her have done so throughout history.’

  ‘Then you have fulfilled your role, Jacob. There is no need for anyone else to die, go to meet your goddess with a lighter conscious. Do the right thing and tell me where she is.’

  Jacob closed his eyes and Brandon’s head fell forward in defeat. He stood up to leave, when Jacob spoke one last time.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I will tell you. Come close.’

  ----

  India sat on the second step of the stairway, talking to Mike when Brandon approached.

  ‘Well?’ she asked. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He died,’ he said.

  ‘Did he tell you where Camille is?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Brandon, ‘but he did confirm she is probably still alive.’

  ‘So, how does that help?’

  ‘It doesn’t,’ said Brandon, ‘but before he died, he did say something else.’

/>   ‘What?’

  ‘He said she is lying in the arms of the goddess.’

  ‘The arms of the goddess?’ repeated India, ‘is that it?’

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘But what does it mean?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ said Brandon.

  They all stared at each other blankly for a few minutes before India spoke again.

  ‘What else did he say?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘You talked with him for several minutes,’ she insisted, ‘he must have said something else.’

  ‘Only that they died in the way that all such women have died throughout history.’

  India’s eyes widened.

  ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘why didn’t we see it before?’

  ‘What?’ asked Brandon, looking at her expectantly.

  ‘This whole organisation is based around the rituals of Vesta. Anything he has done has been true to the traditions. Those girls in the train station, they were killed according to the ancient ways of Vesta.’

  ‘One was flogged and one was crucified,’ said Brandon.

  ‘Yes but in the beginning, that was the way most of them were killed. Flogging in particular was used by the Pontifex Maximus to discipline wayward priestesses. This guy was being true to his predecessors. Jacob said she is still alive and laying in the arms of the goddess. That can mean only one thing, she’s been buried alive.’

  ----

  ‘Shit,’ said Brandon, ‘do you really think so?’

  ‘It has to be,’ said India, ‘it’s a typical execution method for fallen Vestal Virgins and despite her age, Jacob’s delusion saw her as soiled and needing punishment. He has buried her somewhere.’

  ‘Then she is probably dead by now.’

  ‘Not necessarily, Vestals suffering this punishment were buried with enough food, water and blankets to keep them alive for a long time. It just relies on how much food and water he left her.’

  ‘But where?’ asked Mike, ‘she could be buried anywhere.’

  ‘No,’ said India, ‘not really, the tomb would be quite large and need a lot of work. Most of his days were spent here in this convent. It has to be somewhere near.’

  ‘An existing room, then,’ said Brandon, ‘this place must be filled with them.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said, India, ‘it is apparent that the nuns knew nothing about his actions. I think he would have been found out if he was using this place. There has to be an obvious answer.’