Authors: James Rollins
Tags: #Mystery, #Thriller, #Suspense, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Historical
Vigor stepped around and motioned to the lodestone pillar, about two feet thick, resting in the middle of the floor. “The pedestal out there stands the same height as the plate windows. I suspect whatever device the ancients used was meant to rest atop it while aimed at one particular window. Our proverbial twelve o’clock marker.”
“And which one’s that?” Monk asked.
Vigor stopped beside the far window. “True north,” he said. “It took a bit of fancy footwork to calculate with all this lodestone around. But this is the one. I think you set the laser down, point it at this plate, then get clear.”
“Seems simple enough,” Monk said.
Gray began to step out toward the central pedestal when his radio buzzed. He placed a hand over his ear, listening. Everyone stared at him.
“Kat, be careful,” Gray said into his radio. “Approach cautiously. Let them know you’re not hostile. Keep silent about us until you’re sure.”
He ended the call.
“What’s the matter?” Monk asked.
“Kat’s spotted a patrol of French police. They’ve entered the palace. She’s going to investigate.” Gray waved the group toward the stairs. “This will have to wait till later. We’d better head back up.”
They filed out from around the glass pool. Rachel waited for her uncle. He looked reluctantly toward the glass floor.
“Maybe it’s best,” she said. “Maybe we shouldn’t fool with what we barely understand. What if we did it wrong?” Rachel nodded to the massive library of ancient knowledge already contained here. “If we’re too greedy, we could lose it all.”
Her uncle nodded, put an arm around her as they climbed up, but his eyes still occasionally glanced below.
They worked their way up four tiers when a commanding voice bull-horned down to them from above.
“TOUT LE MONDE EN LE BAS LÀ! SORTEZ AVEC VOS MAINS SUR LA TÊTE!”
Everyone froze.
Rachel translated. “They’re calling for us to exit with our hands on our heads.”
A new voice bellowed through the bullhorn in English. It was Kat. “COMMANDER! THEY CONFISCATED MY RADIO, BUT IT IS THE FRENCH POLICE. I’VE VERIFIED THEIR LEADER’S IDENTIFICATION.”
“Must be the guard sent by Cardinal Spera,” Monk said.
“Or someone called in a burglary, noting the lights in here,” Rachel added. “Or the broken door lock.”
“SORTEZ TOUT DE SUITE! C’EST VOTRE DERNIER AVERTISSEMENT!”
“They certainly don’t sound happy,” Monk said.
“What do you expect with all the dead bodies upstairs?” Seichan said.
“Okay,” Gray ordered. “Up we go. We need to prepare them for the arrival of Raoul and his buddies.”
They all marched up the remaining tiers. Gray had them holster or set aside their weapons. Not wanting to spook the police, they obeyed the command and went upstairs with their hands on their heads.
The kitchen, empty before, was now crowded with uniformed men. Rachel spotted Kat, back to one wall, hands on her head, too. The French police were taking no chances. Guns were raised.
Gray attempted to explain in stilted French, but they were separated and made to stand against the wall. The leader shone his light down the passageway, nose crinkled with distaste.
A commotion by the hallway marked the arrival of a newcomer, someone with authority. Rachel watched a familiar family friend enter the kitchen, out of place here, but welcome. Had Cardinal Spera called him?
Her uncle brightened, too. “General Rende! Thank God!”
It was Rachel’s boss, the head of her Carabinieri unit. He cut a striking figure, even out of uniform.
Uncle Vigor tried to step forward but was forced back. “You must get the
gendarmes
to listen. Before it’s too late.”
General Rende eyed her uncle with an uncharacteristic sneer of disdain. “It’s already too late.”
Out from behind him marched Raoul.
JULY 27, 7:00
A
.
M
.
AVIGNON, FRANCE
G
RAY SEETHED
as his wrists were secured behind his back and snugged tight with plastic fast-ties. The other mercenaries, masquerading as French police, stripped weapons and secured the rest of them. Even the bastard Raoul wore a policeman’s uniform.
The giant stepped in front of Gray. “You’re damn tough to kill,” Raoul said. “But that’s going to end. And don’t hope for a rescue call from the cardinal. He ran into an old friend at the airport.” He nodded to General Rende. “It seemed our leader here decided the poor cardinal was of no further use to the Court.”
Gray’s heart clenched.
Raoul grinned, a savage and bloody expression.
General Rende marched up to them, dressed in civilian clothes, an expensive black suit and tie, polished Italian shoes. He had been in discussion with another man, one wearing a clerical collar. It had to be the prefect, Alberto Menardi, the Court’s resident Rasputin. He had a book tucked under one arm and a satchel in hand.
The general stepped to Raoul. “Enough.”
“Yes, Imperator.” Raoul backed a step.
Rende pointed down to the tunnel. “We don’t have time to gloat. Take them below. Find out what they’ve learned. Then kill them.” Rende stared around the room, his blue eyes icy, his silver hair slicked back. “I will make no pretensions of your survival. Your only choice is to make your deaths slow or quick. So make your peace in whatever manner you see fit.”
Vigor spoke by the far wall. “How could you?”
Rende strode over to him. “Fear not, my old friend, we will spare your niece,” he said. “That I promise you. You’ve both served your duty by keeping the Court abreast of archaeological and art history treasures. You’ve served the Court well these many years.”
Vigor’s face went cold, realizing how he’d been used and manipulated.
“Now that role comes to an end,” Rende said. “But your niece’s blood-line goes back to kings and will produce kings to come.”
“By mating me with that bastard?” Rachel spat back.
“It is not the man or the woman,” Raoul answered. “It’s always been the blood and the future. The purity of our lineage is as much a treasure as what we seek.”
Gray stared at Rachel, trussed up next to her uncle. Her face was pale, but her eyes flashed with fury. Especially when Raoul grabbed her by the elbow. She spat in his face.
He cuffed her hard across the mouth, knocking her head back and splitting her lip.
Gray lunged forward, but a pair of rifles shoved him back.
Raoul leaned closer to her. “I like a little fire in my bed.” He dragged her forward. “And this time, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Get what we came here for,” Rende said, his face unperturbed by the violence. “Then we’ll start unloading as much as we can before the storm ends. The trucks will be arriving in another fifteen minutes.”
Gray now understood the uniforms. The masquerade would buy them time to clear a good section of the treasure below. He didn’t fail to note the barrow full of silver incendiary grenades wheeled into the room as they were tied up. Anything that the Court couldn’t carry away would be destroyed.
Alberto joined Raoul.
“Bring the axes, the electric drills, and the acid,” Raoul said, and waved his men forward.
Gray knew the tools were not meant for heavy construction.
They were tools of a true sadist.
Prodded by guns, separated by soldiers, the group was led back down into the tunnel. Once below, even the guards, smirking and hard-edged, grew quiet, eyes widening.
Raoul stared at the spread of Gothic arches and the treasure. “We’ll need more trucks.”
Alberto walked in a daze. “Amazing…simply amazing. And according to the
Arcadium
, this is just the dregs left at the true doorstep to a greater treasure.”
Despite the danger, Vigor glanced over to the prefect in shock. “You have Jacques de Molay’s last testament?”
Alberto clutched his book tighter to his chest. “A seventeenth-century copy. The last known to exist.”
Gray stared at Vigor, meeting his eyes questioningly.
“Jacques de Molay was the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar, tortured by the Inquisition for his refusal to reveal the location of their treasure. He was burned at the stake. But there were rumors of a Templar text, a final treatise by de Molay before he was captured.”
“The
Arcadium
,” Alberto said. “In the possession of the Dragon Court for centuries. It hinted at a treasure. One independent of the mass of gold and jewels of Knights Templar. A greater treasure. One that would put the very keys to the world into its discoverer’s hand.”
“The lost secret of the mages,” Vigor said.
“It’s here,” Alberto said, eyes almost aglow.
They descended the tiers toward the glass floor.
Upon reaching the bottommost tier, the soldiers spread out atop it, taking up positions all along the rim. Gray and the others were forced to their knees. Alberto went down alone to the glass floor, studying its labyrinth.
“One last riddle,” he mumbled.
Raoul stood with Rachel near the top of the last terrace’s stairs. He turned to face the group on their knees. “I think we’ll start with the women,” Raoul said. “But which one?”
Swinging to the side, he grabbed a fistful of Rachel’s hair, at the back of her neck. He bent over her and kissed her hard on the mouth. Rachel squirmed, gasping, but tied up, there was little she could do.
Fire narrowed Gray’s vision. He knelt down and stamped the toe of his boot against the stone. He felt the hidden blade
snick
out of the heel, the same one he had used to free himself in the castle cell. He hid the knife behind his tied wrists. With minimal movement, he cut the ties on the razored edge. Though free, he kept his hands behind his back.
Raoul pulled back from his embrace. His lower lip bled. Rachel had bitten him, but he simply grinned. He shoved her hard in the center of her chest. Off balance, she fell to her backside with a teeth-jarring impact.
“Stay,” Raoul said, palm out, as if commanding a dog.
A rifle at Rachel’s skull firmed the order.
Raoul turned back to the group. “I’ll save my fun for her later. So we’ll need another woman to start with.” He strode over to Seichan, stared down at her, then shook his head. “You’d probably enjoy it too much.”
He turned next to Kat and waved to the guards that flanked her to drag her in front of the others. Raoul bent down and picked up the ax and a power drill. He stared between the two, then lowered the ax. “Already did that.”
He lifted the drill and pressed the trigger. The buzz of its motor echoed across the chamber, hungry with the promise of pain.
“We’ll start with an eye,” Raoul said.
One of the guards yanked Kat’s head back. She tried to fight, but the other kicked her hard in the belly, knocking out her breath. As they held her in place, Gray saw the tear roll from the corner of Kat’s eye. Not scared. Angry.
Raoul lowered the drill toward her face.
“Don’t!” Gray yelled. “There’s no need for this. I’ll tell you what we know.”
“No,” Kat said, and was punched in the face by one of the guards.
Gray understood her warning. If the Dragon Court gained the power here, the “keys to the world,” it would mean Armageddon. Their own lives here, their own blood, were not worth that price.
“I’ll tell you,” Gray repeated.
Raoul straightened a bit.
Gray hoped to lure him closer.
But Raoul remained where he was. “I don’t seem to recall asking any questions yet.” He bent over again. “This is only a demonstration. When it comes to the question-and-answer period of this conversation, we’ll get more serious.”
The drill growled louder.
Gray could wait no longer. He would not sit idle as another teammate was maimed by this madman. Better to die in a firefight. He leapt to his feet, driving an elbow into the groin of the soldier guarding him. With the man’s attention fixed to the torture, Gray caught his rifle, pointed it at Raoul, and pulled the trigger.
Click
.
Nothing happened.
7:22
A
.
M
.
R
ACHEL WATCHED
Gray be clubbed to the ground by a soldier behind him, using the butt of a rifle.
Raoul laughed, revving his drill.
“Take his boots off,” Raoul ordered. He stalked up to Gray as he was manhandled around. “You don’t think I failed to have the security tapes reviewed after your escape, do you? When I didn’t hear from the two men I sent back to assassinate you at the castle, I sent another team to investigate. Nothing but dogs in the yard. They found out how you escaped and radioed it to me.”
Gray’s laces were sliced and the boots tugged off.
“So I let you have your little hope,” Raoul said. “It’s always best to know an enemy’s secret. Keeps surprises to a minimum. I figured you’d eventually go for a gun…but I’d hoped you’d have a bit more stomach. Waited until things got really bloody.” Raoul lifted the drill and turned away. “Now, where were we?”
Rachel stared as Gray was trussed up again. His face was hollow and hopeless. This scared her more than the threat of torture.
“Leave the others alone,” Gray said. He struggled to his feet. “You’re wasting time. We know how to open the gate. Harm a single one of us and you’ll learn nothing.”
Raoul eyed him. “Explain and I’ll consider your offer.”
Gray searched the others, looking forlorn. “It’s light,” he said.
Kat groaned. Vigor hung his head.
“He’s right,” a voice called up from the floor below. Alberto climbed a few steps. “The mirrors on the wall are reflective and angled.”
“It takes laser light,” Gray continued, revealing all. He went on to explain what Vigor had related.
Alberto joined them. “Yes, yes…it makes perfect sense.”
“Well, we’ll just see,” Raoul said. “If he’s wrong, we’ll start chopping limbs.”
Gray turned to Rachel and the others. “They would’ve found out eventually. They already have the gold key.”
Raoul ordered his men: “Bring the prisoners down below. I don’t want to take any chances. Stand them against the lower wall. The rest of you”—he eyed the ring of soldiers that stood guard atop the tier—“keep a constant bead on each of them. Shoot anyone that moves.”
Rachel and the other five were led below and forced to separate, to spread out along the wall. Gray stood only three steps from her side. She longed to reach out to him, to hold his hand, but he seemed lost in his own misery.
And she dared not move.
Soldiers lay flat on the tier above, rifles aimed at them.
Gray mumbled, staring at the glass floor. His words reached only her own ears. “The Minotaur’s maze.”
Her brow crinkled. Standing in place, he glanced at her, then back to the floor. What was he trying to indicate?
The Minotaur’s maze
.
Gray was referring to one of the names for the labyrinth. Daedalus’s maze. The mythic labyrinth that was home to the bullish Minotaur, a deadly monster in a deadly maze.
Deadly
.
Rachel remembered the trap at Alexander’s tomb. The deadly passageway. To solve these riddles didn’t require just the technology. You had to know your history and mythology. Gray was trying to warn her. They may have solved the technology, but not the entire mystery.
She now understood Gray’s hope. He had only told Raoul enough to hopefully get the man killed.
Raoul freed a laser scope and stepped toward the central pedestal. Then he seemed to think better of it. He pointed the scope to Gray.
“You,” he said, plainly suspicious. “You take it out there.”
Gray was forced away from the wall, away from her side. His arms were cut free. But he was hardly free. Rifles tracked his every step.
Raoul shoved the laser into Gray’s hand. “Set it up. Like you described.”
Gray glanced to Rachel, then headed across the glass floor in his socks.
He had no choice.
He had to enter the Minotaur’s maze.
7:32
A
.
M
.
G
ENERAL RENDE
checked his watch. Thunder rumbled beyond the walls of the palace. What he had sought for so long was about to come true. Even if they failed to open whatever secret vault lay below, he had taken a brief look. That storehouse alone was a treasure to dwarf all others.
They would escape with as much as they could and destroy the rest.
His demolition expert was already going over the incendiary charges.
All that was left was to wait for the trucks.
He had arranged for a caravan of three heavy-duty Peugeot trucks. They would run in shifts to a huge warehouse at the outskirts of town near the river, unhooking their load, mounting an empty container, and returning.
Back and forth for as long as they could.
The general frowned at his watch. They were running late. He had had a call from the lead driver five minutes ago. The roads were a mess, and even though dawn had already broken, it remained a perpetual twilight under the thunderclouds and torrents of rain.
Despite the delay, the storm served to shelter them, to cover their actions, to keep any interest here to a minimum. Outlying guards were ready to eliminate anyone who became too curious. Bribes had been paid.
They should have half a day.
A call came through on the radio. He answered it.
“First truck is climbing the hill now,” the driver reported. Thunder boomed in the distance.
Now it began.
7:33
A
.
M
.
S
COPE IN
hand, Gray crossed to the short pillar of magnetite. Overhead, double arches of the same stone stretched. Even without touching anything, Gray sensed the power that lay dormant.
“Hurry up!” Raoul called from the edge.
Gray stepped to the pedestal. He placed the scope atop the pillar, balanced it, and pointed it toward the twelve o’clock window. He paused to take a deep breath. He had tried to warn Rachel to be ready for anything. Once this was activated, they were all in danger.