The Templar Concordat (51 page)

But Jean was dead, burned to death right after that. That was a mystery he had decided to leave unsolved.

“I don’t know, Hammid. I really don’t know. But I do know we had the real treaty, and I do know what it said. So do you. It’s little comfort, but a man has to face himself and face his God. And God knows it. The treaty was stolen and a forgery put in its place.”

“Goodbye, my friend,” said Hammid. He stood and embraced Zahid. “And thank you for your efforts. I don’t know what more you could have done.”

“Thank you, Sheik.”

When Zahid’s taxi passed the two men parked down the road from Hammid’s villa, they slowly drove up the long driveway. Hammid died on his balcony as he predicted he would, with no warning and without knowing, while he was pouring himself another Scotch.

Zurich - Monday, May 20

The sour Saudi guard at King Fahd airport sneered at Callahan and rummaged through his carry-on, unzipping all the pockets and probing with his fingers. Callahan knew the drill and had planted a small but expensive pen knife for the guard to confiscate. When the guard triumphantly held up the knife, the more urbane supervisor came over and apologized for the inconvenience, but explained it was for everybody’s safety. Callahan managed a resigned look of disappointment, apologized for overlooking the knife, thanked the supervisor, and entered the boarding area.

That was his last inspection in Saudi Arabia. He would fly from King Fahd to Riyadh, and then to Zurich. The guard had flipped right past the Treaty of Tuscany when he fanned the notebook of sample fonts in his briefcase.  Callahan resisted the temptation to turn back to see whose pocket became the new home to the little knife.

In Zurich he took a taxi from the airport to the Templar headquarters, arriving before the bank opened. But it was always open for Templar business, and the guards buzzed him into the “cage” where he was trapped in a glass cubicle until they were satisfied he was one of them.

He took the stairs to the third sublevel and went down the corridor to the Marshall’s office. The Marshall looked up and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s about time, Callahan. Come in, close the door, and take a seat.”

Callahan opened his briefcase, removed the notebook of fonts, and carefully extracted the flexible plastic protector holding the Treaty of Tuscany. He slid it across the desk and said, “I believe this mission is complete.”

The Marshall stared down at the treaty and shook his head. “So this is it, huh? The real thing.”

“That’s it. The one that would convince all the Muslims the West wants them dead.”

“Tell me about it. Everything.” The Marshall leaned back and put a foot on his bottom drawer.

When Callahan finished, the Marshall let out a deep breath and said, “Ok. You did it. To tell you the truth, I really didn’t expect to see you again. You were lucky, but a man makes his own luck most of the time.”

“There are a couple of loose ends we should take care of,” Callahan said. “The man we lost, Eguardo. His family in Manila needs to be taken care of.” Callahan passed over a card Berrera had given him. “That’s his father. And here’s a son who wants to go to engineering school.”

The Marshall nodded.

“And we owe Anna Archuletta a second payment of ten thousand US dollars. She’s the hooker who gave us the inside information on Hammid’s villa. Same terms as before.”

The Marshall took a second card from him. “We’ll take care of it. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Berrera. The Filipino priest I worked with. He might be a good prospect for the Templars. I can vouch for him.”

The Marshall just nodded. “Ok. But now, I want you to get this thing over to the Kruger Institute and give it to the Archivist.”

“Why don’t we just burn the damn thing?”

“Because we take the long view of history, and it just might do us some good in a few hundred years. Hard to tell. Besides, do you want to face the Archivist and tell him you burned it? I don’t.”

*     *     *

When the Templar driver let him off at the Kruger, Marie Curtis met him at the entrance. “We got a warning call you were on the way,” she said. “I hear you have acquired a valuable document for our collection.”

“Whatever it takes to get it out of my hands. The Archivist here?”

“Oh, he’s here, alright. Pacing around up there like a caged lion waiting for that thing.” She nodded at Callahan’s briefcase.

“Well, let’s not keep the lion waiting.”

The Archivist gazed at the treaty resting on his desk, then back up at Callahan. “Oh, it’s a rare thing of beauty, my boy. A thing of beauty. From 1189. Eight hundred years, and here it is with us now. Right where it belongs.”

“Any news on Hammid Al Dossary?” Callahan asked.

“Besides the fact that he’s now public idiot number one, disgraced and exposed as a fraud who slandered the Church and tried to incite a religious war?” said the Archivist.

“It’s that bad? I haven’t seen much news lately.”

“Oh, yes. The University of Cairo has even given the treaty, the one Jean Randolph made for us, back to the Vatican so they can enshrine it forever as a monument to peace and understanding among the peoples of the world.”

“And the Hashashin?”

The Archivist shrugged. “We killed a bunch, but you know that. They nearly succeeded with this treaty plan. It really was brilliant. Wish I had thought of it. Just didn’t work out the way they expected.” He leaned forward in his chair. “But you know them, they’re back there in the bowels of the Bekka Valley planning something new.”

“And how about Jean Randolph?” Callahan looked at Marie. “How shall I say this? How’s her general health?”

Marie smiled. “Oh, I’d say she’s in quite a bit of pain right about now. She just got a new face at a clinic in Bern. I think she gets a new voice today. She wanted to get it all over with at once.”

“As a Templar?”

The Archivist twisted up his face. “Not sure yet. We can use her. Mind you, she knows what we did substituting that forged treaty. Hell, she forged the thing. Couldn’t keep that from her.” His eyes lost their focus. “God, that forgery was a work of art. I’ve got to get down to the Vatican to see it in its place of honor.”

“And,” Marie added, “we know everything she did, and she’s accepted she has no life without us. And now the Hashashin are truly pissed off.”

“Good. I kind of liked her.” Callahan stood up. “Ok. You guys have the treaty, and I’m out of here.”

*     *     *

When Callahan and Marie left, the Templar Archivist called the Master. “Callahan just delivered the treaty. The real thing, the one demanding all good Christians rend the infidel limb from limb.”

“Where’s it going?”

“Into the mountain vault with our most prized collection. We’ll not be keeping it here. And I’ll be writing up the whole story so the Templars in a few hundred years aren’t left as clueless as we were.” He let out a high-pitched laugh. “Wonder what those boys will use it for?”

*     *     *

The Pope hung up the phone and grinned at Carlos. “The Templars have the treaty.”

“What makes you so sure?” asked Carlos.

“What makes me sure? The Templar Master just told me they burned it. That’s what.”

*     *     *

The Master clicked off his phone, and said, “The Pope thanks us, and wishes us well.”

“Hmmph,” the Marshall grunted, “did he believe that stuff about burning the real treaty?”

“Of course not. He said he did, but the man’s not stupid, and he doesn’t think we’re stupid, either.”

“I hope he’s right about that,” sighed the Marshall. “You know, we probably should have recruited that guy a long time ago.”

Vatican - Monday, May 20

The Pope and Bishop Carlos Perez sat across from each other with bottles of San Miguel beer. Carlos raised his up and asked, “Where’d you get this?”

“I asked a Filipino bishop for a favor,” the Pope replied. “In case anyone ever asks, the San Miguel is the favor.”

Carlos nodded. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t ask a Frenchman for the favor. Maybe you should ask him for another favor when this is gone.” He pointed the neck of his bottle at the blue TV screen. “Run it again, Boss, run it again. I love this.”

The Pope aimed the remote at the TV and clicked.

*     *     *

And this just in… CNN has learned of another, perhaps final, twist in the confusing saga of the Treaty of Tuscany. We go now to Greg Conrad in London.

“Thank you, Peter. I’m here with Professor Ahmed Al Qatani of Cairo University… Professor Qatani is one of the scholars entrusted with conducting laser analysis of the manuscript presented to the panel of experts last week by Hammid Al Dossary. If you remember, Peter, when Mr. Al Dossary actually handed the original treaty to the panel for examination, it was completely different from the copies that had previously been circulated.

The previous copies called for the destruction of Islam. However, when Al Dossary gave the original treaty to the panel, it called for peace, cooperation, and mutual respect between Christianity and Islam.

CNN: Professor Qatani, what were you testing here?

Qatani: As you said, the treaty Mr. Al Dossary provided was quite different from the copies he previously provided. He claimed the original treaty had been stolen from him after we took our samples, and a forgery put in its place. And he believed laser analysis would show the alleged forgery was not authentic.

CNN: So, let me recap for our viewers. You came here to test the document Mr. Al Dossary claims is a forgery. The manuscript calling for peace and cooperation?

Qatani: Yes. That’s correct. We felt we should leave no unanswered questions.

CNN: And your previous laser testing was done on what Mr. Al Dossary claims was the real treaty. But you only had samples…

Qatani: Yes.

CNN: And what is the result?

Qatani: These new samples show the same, identical chemical profile as the previous samples we tested. Identical. All samples we tested… the first set… the second set… they are all identical.

CNN: So what do you conclude?

Qatani: Well, there are two possibilities. First, the samples we originally took, and the samples we later took are from the exact same manuscript. This is by far the most likely scenario.

CNN: Is there an alternative?

Qatani: Only that a forger got hold of a piece of parchment manufactured in the Twelfth Century… there isn’t any… and that piece of parchment was from the exact same batch as the original. The probability is ridiculously low.

CNN: And the panel’s final conclusion?

Qatani: We conclude that the Treat of Tuscany is indeed authentic. It has passed every test known to man, and it calls for peaceful cooperation between all Christians and Muslims.

CNN: Is Mr. Al Dossary a fraud?

Qatani: Our job is analysis of manuscripts. We conclude the treaty is authentic. We conclude it calls for peaceful cooperation between Christians and Muslims. We leave analysis of people to others.

*     *     *

“I’ve seen you pull some big rabbits out of small hats, Boss, but this? This is in a class all by itself. How’d you do it?”

“Maybe someday, Carlos, maybe someday,” the Pope gave a half smile. “There really are some things that should be lost to history.”

Carlos reached into his coat pocket. “Oh, Mancini gave me this. It’s the report they sent to Agretti about the theft of the treaty from the Vatican Library. Translations Agretti had, too. He said these are the only copies, and you could always put them back in the files if you wanted.”

The Pope scanned the folded sheets Carlos handed him. “I suppose I could put them back in the files. I guess that’s the responsible thing to do.” He got up and walked to his desk. “And I suppose I could be irresponsible, too.” He pushed the button on the shredder and watched the machine chop the pages into teeny squares.

“Tell Mancini thanks.”

“Mancini’s gone. The permanent security chief, the guy who got hit in the bombing trying to throw the blast blanket over the Pope, he’s out of the hospital and back on the job. Mancini’s gone…” he lifted his eyebrows and palms together, “gone to wherever Templars go, I guess.”

“He knew he had to go. So did I. His first loyalty is to the Templars.”

“Yeah,” Carlos laughed, “he wished you the best and said if you ever needed him you know how to get in touch.”

Carlos fetched two more San Miguels from the cooler and passed one to the Pope. “You know that parish in the Italian Alps you asked me to find?”

“Yeah.”

“Found one. Looks perfect. They have a priest, but he’d be happy to have someone from the Vatican retire there.”