The Veritas Conflict (61 page)

“I don’t know about that. I feel like I was going in circles.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for, and what you’ve found, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Sure.” She allowed him to steer her toward the seat he’d just vacated. “What’s your name?

“Call me Tony.”

“Okay, Tony.” She reached into her backpack for a pen, then looked up into his face. His eyes were very dark.

Ian ran down the echoing hallway, looking frantically at the numbers on the doors. Some movers, in the middle of a coarse locker-room joke, were slowly steering a flatbed loaded with cardboard boxes toward a service elevator.

He asked a quick question, and one of the movers pointed.

Ian shot through the doorway and pulled up at the receptionists station, fairly gasping. “Where is Claire Rivers?”

The receptionist looked startled. “Who are you?”

He tried to catch his breath. “Ian Burke. She asked me to—”

She folded her arms, a sardonic expression on her face. “Since Ian Burke is already back there, I doubt you’re him.”

“What?” Ian lost his breath again. His voice grew more urgent. “Where are they?”

“Last door on the left, but … hey!” She jumped up, shouting after him as he sprinted away. “You can’t just—!”

He didn’t stop, and she quickly punched in some numbers on her telephone.

“Hello, security?”

Ian slowed as he approached the last room on the left and stopped a few feet short of it. He could hear two voices, one male, one female. Everything sounded collegial, but this pressure, this intensity, continued to increase until he felt that his head was about to explode.

He forced himself to stop and think, praying under his breath as he looked at the maze of cubicles on his right. He slipped down one row, then worked his way back toward the resource room. He stopped in the shadow of an unoccupied cubicle directly across from the large glass window and slowly leaned out until he could see inside the room.

Claire was standing by a bank of computer terminals, talking animatedly to Anton Pike.

His face blanched.
She doesn’t know what he looks like!

Ian drew himself back into the cubicle, praying hard.
O God, show me what to do. What is going on here? Make a way out of this, Lord
.

The sense of danger increased, and he stood and squared his shoulders.

“Why don’t you show me what you found?”

“Okay.”

The tall man’s closeness made Claire a little uncomfortable. She swiveled slightly in her chair. “It started with these old files we found. We—”

“Excuse me!”

One of the movers was approaching from the doorway, his face intent.

“I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to ask you to leave immediately.” Two other moving men pushed dollies through the door behind him. One began picking up boxes
and transferring them to his dolly, the other advanced toward the bank of computers.

Claire started to her feet, and the speaker stepped forward, picking up Claire’s backpack and dumping it in her arms. He pointed toward the door. “Were moving and reorganizing and must disconnect all these terminals.”

“But the resource director said we’d have the rest of the day!” Claire turned toward her companion. “Tony, can’t I have just a little—”

She stopped at the look on his face. He was staring at the moving man with glazed eyes, flinching backward.

The moving man took her arm, and Claire found herself propelled toward the door. “I’m sorry, miss, but your time is up.”

“But—”

As Claire was deposited outside the door, she stared up at the serious expression of the man who had held her arm.

“What—”

“Claire!” Ian shot out from a row of cubicles, grabbed her arm, and hustled her down the corridor. His voice was low. “Thank You, God.”

She tried to pull him to a stop. “What is going
on
, Ian? What is
with
everybody?”

“What is going on,” he hissed in her ear as he dragged her past the startled receptionist and out the office door, “is that you were about to explain our project to Anton Pike.”

Her knees buckled, but Ian didn’t stop. She found her feet and allowed herself to be propelled down the hall and toward the stairs. Her face was very white. Only once they were hurtling down the stairs did she squeak out a question.

“That was Anton Pike?”

“Yes.”

“I thought he was the office clerk.”

They reached a stairway landing, and Ian paused, listening for footsteps. He looked back over her shoulder and up the stairs as he spoke. “At some point you’re going to have to explain why you thought that, but right now all I want to do is get you out of here.”

He pulled her onward. “Thank God you walked out of that office when you did.”

“Well, they wouldn’t let me stay!”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“The moving men.”

Ian stumbled on a stair, and caught himself. “What moving men?”

“What do you mean, ‘What moving men?” Claire gestured wildly up the stairs in the direction of the office. “The moving men! The big guys who came in and told us they were closing early and to get lost!”

Ian was staring at her openmouthed.

She put her hands on her hips. “The ringleader pushed me out the door, and then
you
grabbed me and nearly wrenched my arm out of its socket and … What is
up
with you?”

Ian leaned hard on the railing. “Claire, I don’t know how to tell you this.” His lips began to twist in a disbelieving smile. “But there were no moving men.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Huh?”

“You walked out of that office on your own. The only person in there was Anton Pike.”

FIFTY-ONE

M
ANSFIELD LOOKED FROM ONE TO THE OTHER
, the amazed expressions on each face. Then he leaned back in his chair and stared at the darkening sky outside his window.

“Well, praise God for His protection and His supernatural ways! I must say I’m jealous. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to meet an angel.”

“So what do we do now?” Ian turned to Claire, his voice earnest. “Do you have any thoughts?”

Claire grinned. “You don’t have to be
that
deferential just because you got so crabby with me.”

“I’m sorry about that. If you would’ve just told me earlier about helping your friend … but I understand why you thought you couldn’t.”

Claire smiled at him, then turned to Mansfield. “Should we call Ian’s friend at the Excellence Awards?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have anything more to give him. Right now all we know is that there’s definitely
something
going on. But we don’t know what.”

“But at least we now know there’s something to be found,” Ian said. “That’s huge. Anton Pike wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths to interfere if there was nothing there.”

He turned to Claire. “Whatever it is, you’ve probably already seen it.” At her startled look, he shrugged. “To you, it was such a small thing that you didn’t even notice its significance, but to him it was glaring out like a spotlight. His reaction tells us there’s definitely something there! I’d like to go over everything you saw with a fine-toothed comb, but we obviously can’t unless we get access to that computer again.”

“Yeah.” Claire sighed, dejected. “I remember only one of the other alumni names besides Murphy’s. That’s it. And without the names, we can’t re-create the alumni records obviously.”

Suddenly, she sat straight up in her chair. Mansfield and Ian looked at her, curious. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a torn piece of paper as if she’d just struck gold.

“You’re not going to believe this.” She explained what it was.

Ian stood up, his body tense. He poured himself a cup of coffee at Mansfield’s sideboard
and turned. “I’m no businessman, but I think I’ve got an idea.” He leaned against the sideboard, explaining his thought.

Mansfield listened and after a moment nodded, his voice decisive. “Go ahead then. Let’s see what happens.”

Ian hesitated. “One final thing. I’m a little concerned about you, Claire. Anton Pike knows you were snooping around, and your roommate is the girlfriend of his son. Surely this has got to get awkward. I’ve met Stefan a few times, and neither he nor his father are to be trifled with. And honestly, I really had a sense of danger. It was like something was chasing me over there.”

“What are you proposing?” Mansfield said.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like the idea of her being alone—”

Claire raised her hand. “Excuse me, do I have any say in this?”

“It depends on what you want to say.”

“Very funny. Look, I appreciate your concern, honestly. But Ian, you should be the first to remember that I’m not in any danger.” She preened. “I have three enormous bodyguards, remember?” Within half a second she berated herself. Why was she rejecting an offer to be bodyguarded by Ian, of all people?

Ian laughed and started to object. Mansfield broke in.

“Ian, I take your sense of caution seriously, but we have to remember two things. First, Claire is right. God clearly has gone to great lengths to protect her thus far—even if only from spilling the beans. And second, since Pike has no idea what we know or don’t know, he’ll be watching to see if we do anything differently. Why don’t we just continue this investigation—as quickly as we can—and reevaluate as we go?” He stood to his feet. “Believe me, if I think there’s any need for concern, I’ll be quick to move on it.”

The two students stood and walked to the door. Mansfield held it open for them.

Claire reached up and hugged him. “Thank you, Professor.”

He shook his head. “I keep telling you to call me Mansfield.” He grinned and shooed them out the door.

Ian and Claire headed down the hallway, trailed closely by a contingent of warriors on high alert. Their faces were set, their guard up. The unraveling was beginning, and resistance was expected.

Three angels stayed behind, near Mansfield’s office. Etàn gave several orders. Time was short, and there was much to be accomplished. He watched the man of God, his expression fiercely protective. God’s ways were perfect.

In his home not far from campus, Anton Pike punched the buttons on his cordless phone. Within seconds he was speaking with his brother. He did not sit down, just paced the length of his den. His voice was low, furious. After three lengths of the room, he was standing near his desk finishing his description of the days events.

He smashed his fist down onto the desk, his face livid.

Krolech crashed his fist into the center of the map, causing his principal lieutenants to jump. Katoth, standing directly in front of him, narrowed his eyes but did not flinch.

Krolech growled something unintelligible under his breath, then stuck his face in Katoth’s line of sight and growled again.

“What I want to know is why all this is happening now! Is all this just accidental, or is this a concerted enemy plan?”

None of his aides said anything. The enemy never did anything “accidental,” and he knew it.

Krolech looked at the map, the crown jewel, and let out a roar that shook the rafters. He swung on his troops. “Leviathan—Leviathan
himself
has asked for a report. And what can I tell him?” His voice grew sarcastic. “Oh, nothing but the fact that my
entire plan
is in danger of unraveling because some novice freshman—guarded by three warriors—just
happens
to stumble across the interweaving of our tapestry!”

He began to pace. “My plan has worked brilliantly, unexposed, for years! It has delivered this jewel into our hands, this jewel that is a cornerstone of the masters strategy for this land. And now these—these
saints,”
he spat the word, “have suddenly exposed the pattern.”

Katoth inclined his head, his voice deferential. “My lord, you cannot be sure of that. She didn’t tell you anything that she uncovered, and there was nothing in her backpack. She certainly didn’t leave with anything. Its likely that she did not even see the significance of her findings. In fact, if she
had
understood their significance, we would probably have been routed by now. This was an incursion, but nothing more. We can ensure that they no longer have access to the information.”

Krolech paced some more, his eyes glistening. “See that they dont. And have your troops watch closely to ensure that nothing is released. We may have to move quickly. And I think its about time that you take full possession of your charge. I’m disappointed in these unexpected weaknesses in the heir.”

Katoth’s eyes flickered, and Krolech saw it. He drew his lieutenant aside.

“Speak.”

Katoth’s eyes were shadowed, enraged. “I have tried many times, my liege. But there is always an unexplained resistance. He is fully aligned with our cause—you yourself inducted him into the family mandate when he reached manhood—but …”

“But?”

“But I have been looking at the family records, my liege. And there was a small detail that I was not briefed on when I began this assignment.”

Krolech made no sound, just stared hard at the other demon.