“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
Over the past hour a lot had raced through his mind. Especially what Laura had told him when they first talked outside the guva. When he’d asked who’d told her he was on the island.
“My boss. He gave me an order. I do what he tells me.”
“How did you know I was headed into trouble?”
“Same answer. My boss told me.”
“How did you know that I’d been sent here?” he asked Hahn.
“Who says I did?”
“Your dead agent. What were you doing with Spagna at that safe house?”
“You don’t really expect me to answer either question.”
“Actually, I do.”
“We need to go.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s all you’re going to get.”
But he didn’t need one. He’d already concluded that there was one constant across his entire encounter with Laura Price and that was this man, her boss. He was actually planning on looking this roly-poly up just as soon as he was sprung. Stephanie had just saved him the trouble.
“You were working with Spagna,” he said.
And he suddenly saw regret in the man’s eyes.
“I made a mistake. There’s more going on here than I realized.” Hahn paused. “Much more. Spagna asked for help. He made a good case, so I went along.”
“Apparently Spagna and you underestimated the opposition. Whoever the opposition is.”
“We’re still working to identify the men from the boat.”
“Laura and the guy from the Vatican said they were Secreti.”
“That would be amazing, if true. That group was disbanded two centuries ago.”
“They both seemed real sure that it was still around. And some of them tried to toss me through a window.”
“Your Ms. Nelle was sparse on information when she called to tell me about you. Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“I know about as much as you do.”
Which wasn’t far from the truth. But if Stephanie had stayed silent, so would he.
“She asked me to secure your release,” Hahn said. “I’ve done that.”
“I appreciate it. I also need a car.”
“That can be arranged. Where are you headed?”
This guy was a bit of a Nosy Nellie, as his mother liked to say. So he gave him the standard reply.
“To do my job.”
* * *
Pollux stepped outside into the night. He and his men had come back to ground level to retrieve what they needed to finish. The clock was now ticking and there was a lot to be done.
Thankfully, he was ready.
He heard the buzz of a phone and one of his men drifted away and answered the call. He watched as the conversation ensued, then ended.
“We’ve just learned there’s a problem. Our boat offshore was attacked and sunk. All of the brothers are dead.”
He kept the shock to himself and calmly asked, “How?”
“The American, Daniels. He escaped during the kill on Laura Price and Bishop Roy and found his way to our boat.”
Disturbing news, no doubt. But not game changing. And there it was again. That ability to shift directions at a moment’s notice. To turn a problem into an opportunity. “Where is Daniels now?”
“In custody.”
Perfect.
His personal motto came from the Book of James. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
His life had been a series of hurdles. He’d dutifully served in the military, then was hired by the Hospitallers to work abroad in their medical missions. He eventually professed his allegiance and took the oaths of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Then he’d languished in unimportant jobs. Playing second to one knight after another. He eventually rose to grand commander, charged with spreading the faith, supervising priories, and compiling reports to the Holy See, becoming one of the order’s top four officers.
Then came Kastor’s chaos.
And he was made temporary head.
Time for another promotion.
“We keep going. As planned.”
He headed back inside, then down to the guva chamber. His men followed, one carrying a folding chair and a duffel bag. He passed the hole in the ground and exited from the second door into another corridor that led to the next chamber. He’d chosen this spot for not only its privacy but also its lighting, which was much brighter.
“Set the chair up there,” he said pointing. Then he pointed at the other brother. “Keep a watch outside. Though I doubt we’ll be disturbed.”
The man left.
He faced the remaining brother.
“Shall we start?”
* * *
Cotton rounded a curve and realized that the chapel was not far ahead. His senses were on full alert. The situation had shifted from curious to serious. One or both Gallos could be in trouble.
He doused the headlights and stopped on the side of the road.
In the distance he saw the chapel on the ridge. A car remained parked out front. Were the two brothers still there?
How many times had he been in this exact situation?
Too many to count.
He thought of Cassiopeia. Where was she? Surely asleep, at home in France. He hadn’t heard from her in a few days. Good thing, too. If she knew he was deep into a mess, she’d be on a plane headed his way. He didn’t like placing her in danger, though she was more than capable of handling herself. She was an extraordinary woman who’d dropped into his life out of
nowhere. Initially, neither of them had cared for the other, but time and circumstances had changed everything. What would she say now? Figure it out. Finish it. He smiled. Good advice.
He spotted a splash of light in the dark. The chapel’s door had opened and a man stepped out into the night.
Alone.
He watched as the solitary figure stood for a moment, then eased away from the door, leaving it partially open. He waited to see if the figure was leaving. No. The car remained dark and still.
A guard?
Maybe.
He switched off the car’s interior light, then eased open the door and slipped out, pocketing the key remote. The chapel was about three hundred yards away. He hustled in that direction, using the dark and a mass of low scrub and the few trees as cover. He approached from the western side and kept low, not catching sight of the man he knew was outside. It wasn’t until he came close to the building that he spotted the figure about fifty yards away, back to him, surveying the valley that stretched to the south. A dull glow had begun to rise on the eastern horizon. Dawn was coming. He needed the guard distracted and had decided on the hike over that the car might prove the best mechanism. He pressed his body against the chapel wall and aimed the remote control back toward where he’d come from, hoping its range was sufficient.
Then he hesitated.
Pressing the button would set off the horn, accompanied by the headlights flashing, and the element of surprise would be gone. He decided instead to be patient and glanced back again around the corner at the solitary figure. Darkness remained thick across the valley. The man casually turned to his right and moved farther away from the chapel, finding a cell phone and making a call. He crouched and used the shadows for cover, darting toward the open front door. He slipped in, keeping his eyes on the guard, who’d noticed nothing.