by Rob Jones
Hunter set his water down and pulled out a chair from under the desk. “So what happened to Weishaupt?”
“The original Order of the Illuminati was banned and he was exiled to the palace of Duke Ernest II of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, whose Illuminati name was Quintus Severus.”
“All this sounds very cloak and dagger to me.”
“It was – they’d been banned,” Quinn said.
Amy continued. “He died in his eighties and the membership of the Order was dispersed – or so we are told. As I say, the truth is that the Order was never broken up and simply went underground, calling themselves the Creed. They used their banishment as cover to move out of sight and continue to grow in number and influence. Today they are more powerful than ever and run what is essentially a shadow network behind the scenes of many of the world’s biggest governments.”
“Including the US?”
“Let’s not go there,” Amy said. “Not right now.”
Hunter sighed. “Isn’t this a little heavy for such a nice sunny evening?”
“It gets heavier when you ask just why the hell do they want to find Atlantis?” Blanco asked.
Hunter leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “And heavier still when you ask why my life just got turned into a Dan Brown novel? Who else knows about this?”
“About Rorschach possibly being part of the Creed?” Amy asked.
“Yeah.”
“No one, at least not as far as we know. As of this moment, the rest of the world thinks Oskar Rorschach is nothing more than a Swiss business magnate and philanthropist with an abiding interest in ancient civilizations. We know better because we intercepted emails from his account in Switzerland. He was sending them to known members of the Creed.”
Hunter looked like he wanted to take a strong drink or three. “So he’s a major league player in the world’s most notorious secret society. Wow.”
“We’re not a hundred percent on Rorschach yet,” Amy said. “But we’ve almost got him. Like I say, we know he’s been engaging in an extensive email correspondence with key members of the group in Germany, Sweden, England and the US. We have no direct proof he is in the Creed but the evidence is starting to stack up against him. If we’re right, he’s what they call the Apostle, and we think Gaius works for him as what they call a disciple. We think Gaius probably hired McCabe to help him find the statues for the Creed.”
“And that’s why you were undercover at the Rorschach Foundation?”
“That’s right.”
A hushed silence descended on the briefing room.
“Earth to Hunter?” Jodie said. “You still with us, buddy?”
He blew out a long breath and shook his head in shock. “I’ve done a lot of digs and seen a lot of stuff, but if we’re talking about secret societies and crazed devotees calling themselves disciples, then I’m starting to feel out of my depth.”
“I get that,” Amy said.
Blanco smiled. “Tell me about it.”
“So now you know what we’re really up against,” Amy said. “I hope you can see why it’s so important that we find out what they want with Atlantis.”
Hunter nodded silently, still struggling to believe McCabe could be part of such an organization. “I’m still in. I’ve wanted to find Atlantis my whole life and I’m not letting McCabe frighten me off, no matter who he’s working for.”
“But…” Amy said.
“But I’m going to need to run this past my boss.”
“I’m your boss,” she said with a smirk.
“You know who I mean,” he said. “Juliette Bonnaire at UNESCO. This is a major development and she needs to be briefed.”
“That’s fine with us,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re staying on board, Max, because we really need you right now.”
He shook his head. “No, you really need my old doctorate supervisor.”
The team shared an uncomfortable look. “Why?”
“Because I’ve been trying to work out the glyphs on the papyrus we found in the lost city back in Scorpion Ravine and I’m just not getting anywhere.”
“But I thought you were the greatest man alive?” Jodie said.
“Hardly,” he said with a disarming smile. “Just one of the greatest. The truth is I’m not an expert in early Egyptian hieroglyphs, but like I said back in the ravine, I know a man who is. He’s called Professor Julian Walters and he’s the greatest Egyptologist on the planet. But there’s a problem. I remember what you said about how long it took you to vet and approve me for coming inside the team. I’m worried about how long we’re going to have to wait while you do that for Julian. He’s a miserable old bastard but I think we could really use him.”
“He’ll say no,” Amy said confidently.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because we already asked him.” She took in his shocked expression. “That’s right, you were our second choice.”
“You really know how to make a man feel special. Did Julian really say no?”
“Not in so many words,” Blanco said. “His vocabulary was much richer. We got the impression he doesn’t like to be bothered much.”
“I could have told you that. He took a year’s sabbatical from Oxford a year or so ago and moved to Arizona. After a few months watering his cactus collection and photographing the pueblo ruins he took a job with the Louvre in Paris. Put it this way, I was his best student and the last time I contacted him he told me to get lost.”
“We really need him, Max. He’s our best chance right now.”
“Again, thanks for building up my confidence and self-esteem.”
“Will you talk to him and get him on board?”
Hunter lifted his head and stared up at the nicotine-stained ceiling. After a few seconds thinking about it, he looked back at the team. “I’ll speak to him, but knowing now that he already said no, I’m not promising anything.”
A round of high-fives went around the room. Amy took out her phone and started to make a call.
“What are you doing?” Lewis asked.
“If Max has to meet with Professor Bonnaire at UNESCO and then talk to Professor Walters at the Louvre, we need to get to Paris as fast as possible. I presume no one has any objections to a short trip to the City of Lights?”
When she saw there were no objections, she hit the speed dial and called Director Gates.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Good to see you, Max.”
Hunter wandered over to Juliette’s desk and shook her hand. “Always a pleasure.”
“And I see you have some introductions to make.”
“This is Amy Fox, Sal Blanco, Jodie Priest, Dr Ben Lewis and the inimitable Quinn Mosley,” he said. “They work for a covert branch of the FBI concerned with antiquities crime.”
“Pleased to meet you all,” she said. “And welcome to Paris and UNESCO. I understand you saved Dr Hunter’s life during a dangerous helicopter chase, Special Agent Mosley. Thank you.”
The young woman shrugged and looked down at her trainers. Hunter was interested to see a vague trace of embarrassment on her face. “You got any coffee?” she said.
“Please, have a seat. I have already ordered coffee.”
“Cool.”
Quinn crashed down in the seat farthest from Juliette’s desk and stared forlornly out of the window at the Paris drizzle. Hands stuffed deep in her pockets and her hood pulled up over her head as usual, she was barely visible at all.
Juliette arched an eyebrow, her perfect sense of professional etiquette untouched by the young woman’s rudeness. “I see why they call you the Ghost.”
“It’s just Ghost,” she mumbled through her black-painted lips. “Not the Ghost. I’m not drawn by Marvel and I’d look like shit in Spandex.”
Hunter moved to talk but Amy caught his eye and cautioned against it. Juliette stared at him with wide eyes, just two old friends sharing a silent, private joke before gett
ing back to business. Then, she softly clapped her hands together and sat down behind her desk. “Anyway, thank heavens you are safe. Now, you must tell me what happened in El Salvador.”
As the drizzle ran down the windowpanes, Hunter recounted to his boss everything that had happened to him in Cuba and El Salvador. From the fire fight on Vazquez’s private cruise ship to his brutal slaying in the jungles of El Salvador and the discovery of the third winged statue in the mysterious cloud-forest’s lost city.
Juliette raised an eyebrow and pushed back in her leather chair. “This sounds insane even for you, Max. I trust your ego came through unscathed.”
“There’s more,” he said. “But yes, it did, and thanks for asking.”
“You’re more than welcome,” she said, leaning forwards and resting her elbows on her desk once again. Cupping her chin in her hand, she said, “What do you mean when you say there’s more?”
“Amy?” Hunter said. “I think maybe this might sound less crazy coming from you.”
She gave him a look and then fixed her sharp eyes on Juliette. “We believe Brodie McCabe is working for Oskar Rorschach.”
“That’s impossible.” She dismissed the notion with an arrogant wave of her hand. “I know both men and I find it impossible to believe they could work with each other. They are… comme le jour et la nuit.”
“Huh?” Jodie said.
“Like day and night,” Hunter said. “Chalk and cheese.”
“But nonetheless they are working with one another,” Amy said. “And they mean business.”
“Non, that’s the most insane thing I ever heard in my life.”
“You’d think…” Hunter said.
“What does that mean?” Juliette asked.
“It means pour yourself a cognac, Julie,” he said drily. “Because what comes next isn’t going to be easy to take.”
Juliette was hard to rattle. She picked a fountain pen off the top of some papers and started to twirl it around her fingers. “Try me.”
“We believe Rorschach is a member of a secret society called the Creed,” Amy said bluntly. “They inherited a vast empire of power and connections from the Illuminati when it was banned in the late eighteenth century.”
Juliette started to laugh but held it in check. “This is a joke, n’est-ce pas?”
Hunter tensed. “No joke, Julie.”
“I have known Oskar Rorschach for twenty years,” she said. “Not only is he one of the world’s foremost collectors of antiquities who knows the market better than anyone, but he is also the kindest and most generous man I have ever met. Now you sit here and tell me he’s some sort of supervillain in the Illuminati. This is nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense,” Amy said. “And they’re called the Creed now.”
“Max, don’t tell me you believe this?”
“I saw Brodie out in the jungle, Julie. He was fighting alongside some bloody fierce and determined men, and they were incredibly well armed and trained. Only someone with serious reach and wealth could buy men like that.”
“That could be a lot of people.”
“We have emails,” Amy said. “Emails between McCabe and Rorschach, and emails between Rorschach and known members of the Creed – senior members. We’re telling you the truth.”
Hunter clapped his hands together, startling everyone. “And that’s your friendly morning briefing.”
She held her breath in for a few seconds and then blew it out in a long, slow stream as she considered what she had been told. Everyone in the room felt the tension dissipate a little when she smiled and tossed her pen on the desk. “Bien, in that case, it is more important than ever that we beat them to Atlantis, non?”
“Damn straight,” Amy said.
“And to that end,” Hunter said. “I was thinking about talking to Julian.”
Juliette gave a shrill laugh. “Julian Walters? This time I know you are making a joke.”
“Wrong again. I need his help. I know what I said in the briefing sounds insane, but we found artifacts with early Egyptian glyphs on them in the El Salvadorian complex. We both know Julian is by far the world’s leading authority on them. I can make sense of them in a loose way, but all I can gather is a rough idea. They’re pointing to something they call the Gate of the Gods but where is still a mystery.”
She shrugged. “You know Julian. He’s not exactly described as an easy-going man.”
“And he’s already told us to get lost,” Amy said.
“Then you are wasting your time.”
“No, we’re not.” Hunter pulled the statue out of his bag. “Not when he sees this. He told Amy and the team to get lost before we had this, but when he sees it he’ll get behind us, I just know it. He’s still at the Louvre, right?”
She nodded, wide eyes staring at the statue. “Yes. He works mostly alone there, which is good, because no one else would work with him.”
“Not anymore,” Hunter said, stuffing the statue back in his bag. “He’s working with us now.”
“Then I will call him for you and make an appointment,” Juliette said. “But I wouldn’t expect miracles.”
Hunter’s face broke into a broad, bright smile as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. “Who needs miracles when I’m around?”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Heaven help us all.”
“For now, let’s just make do with Julian.”
Blanco’s thick Brooklyn accent filled the room. “But can we trust this guy?”
“Trust him, yes.” Juliette picked up the phone and started dialling. “Like him? Impossible.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Gaius watched the cloaked Apostle closely as he walked into the study. From somewhere behind him he heard the sound of a deep, low organ playing and then he saw his hands, stained red with blood. The Teacher stepped into a small room and Gaius heard running water and smelled soap. When his glorious mentor emerged back into the study, the cloak was gone and the hands were washed clean of the blood.
Whose blood? Gaius knew better than to ask.
“You have an update for me, Gaius?”
“Yes, Teacher.”
The smell of sandalwood soap wafted over him as the Apostle walked to his ornate mahogany desk and set about leafing through a stack of paperwork.
“Well?”
“McCabe and the disciples failed to retrieve the third Winged Guardian in El Salvador.”
The Apostle tensed and immediately lost interest in his papers. “Hunter has it?”
“Yes, Teacher.” He added hastily, “But we have the other two.”
“We need the third.”
“I know. There’s more.”
The Apostle frowned. “Speak.”
“McCabe believes Hunter and his team found something else in the El Salvador lost city.”
“What?”
“He’s not certain, but he believes a statue in the complex was holding some sort of map.”
“This is not good enough. Where are they now?”
Gaius watched a swallow wheeling in the sky outside the Apostle’s window, high above the oxbow lake beyond the castle. “In Paris.”
“At UNESCO?”
Gaius nodded once. “Yes. Our contact there has just told us they are to seek further advice relating to the map they found in Scorpion Ravine.”
The Apostle closed his eyes and listened to the organ. Gaius thought maybe it was a Bach cantata, but he was untutored in classical music. After a long, pregnant pause, the Apostle opened his eyes. “Hunter is to be intercepted in Paris. I want the third Winged Guardian and I want whatever they found in El Salvador. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Teacher. It will be done.”
“It had better be done,” he growled. “The Chimera’s appetite is insatiable, Gaius.”
Gaius tried to hide a hard swallow. “Yes, my Teacher.”
“Absolutely, terrifyingly insatiable.”
“Your orders will be carried out at once.”
“Go, Gaius. Fly like the phoenix! This time the spoils-of-war are unimaginably glorious.”
Gaius bowed and left the room. As he walked down the corridor, the sound of the organ receded behind him, and the sordid smell of soap and blood mixed together with the thought of the Chimera. Suddenly he felt sick to the bottom of his stomach.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The Louvre is one of the most famous museums in the world. The former palace is also one of the most famous buildings, with a blend of architectural styles ranging from gothic through renaissance into baroque, all reflecting its long and complex history. Originally protected by a dry moat and stone counterscarps, the site today hums with thousands of international tourists all desperate to see its countless artifacts and artwork.
Hunter had been here before with Avril, but that was a long time ago. The two of them strolled hand in hand along this very sidewalk, washed in the sunset with the prospect of a great evening ahead of them. Now, as he walked through the eastern end of the Tuileries Garden and turned left into the museum’s main courtyard, he was reminded of those early days, and all the promises the two of them had made to each other and then broken.
Walking past the famous Louvre Pyramid, he was reminded of the importance of their quest. His career had taken him to many of the most interesting places on earth, but since meeting Amy in Switzerland everything had changed. The significance of pyramids to ancient cultures wasn’t something that surprised any archaeologist; they could be found all over the world in one form or another. He considered Sacsayhuamán in the Peruvian Andes, or Teotihuacán in Mexico; Ji’An in northeastern China and the ninth century Borobudur Temple in Java, but it was their connection to Atlantis that enthralled him.
“I hope Professor Walters is able to help us,” Amy said.
“You realize Julian is the biggest sceptic on earth?” Hunter said. “He nearly threw me off my doctorate when I started asking serious questions about Atlantis.”
