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       "What?" Chappell had frowned.

       "They were clever bastards." Kenneth had glowed with pride. "They used one Hebrew word and then followed that with an old English dialect and then started over." It was like listening to an excited school boy. "Then they inverted the text to mask its true form."

       "Don't be an idiot." Chappell had said, looking at the scanned page on the PC. "I'd have figured that out myself."

"That's because you… we looked too deep." Kenneth had shaken his head. "All we had to do was invert the text into a mirror image on both the vertical and the horizontal planes." He'd clicked twice on the mouse and the text shifted to reveal its secrets.

       "Clever bastards," Chappell had whispered as he'd read the words with ease, finally having the cipher to unlock the remaining manuscript.

       Sue Lynch had taken it from there, working around the clock to unravel the puzzle. She had used the calculations from the manuscript to decipher the ancient maps of England and then imposed them upon more recent ordinance maps.

       "Just outside of a place called Westow," she'd exclaimed.

       "Are you sure?" Chappell had asked excitedly.

       "Without a doubt." Sue had brought the map and unrolled it on Chappell's desk. "Right there." She'd pointed with a stubby finger.

       "Is that a church?" Chappell had queried the symbol on the map.

       "No, it's a ruin of a cathedral."

       "What do we know about it?" Chappell's eyes had widened.

       "Only that the Church of England and the Catholic church deny any knowledge of its origins."

       "Excellent," Chappell had shouted, grabbing Sue by the cheeks and kissing her on the lips. "I want the site fenced off and secured by this evening." He'd run from the office and left Sue Lynch speechless.

That had been over six months ago and the study of the ruins had been slow despite the team and their relentless eagerness. They had everything that money could buy. The private investor remained secretive, insisting on regular updates via an ambiguous Internet connection direct to the site.

       The biggest advance had come less than a week ago. Colin Norgate had been working his way tirelessly over the entire site with a fine tooth comb, delving beyond the outer structure of the cathedral in a hope of finding what he was positive was there. The hard work was finally rewarded when the latest x-ray of the basement walls provided him with a glimmer of hope.

       "I'm telling you it's hollow," he'd insisted, jabbing his finger at the monitor. "There's another tunnel behind that wall."

       Colin had been right. There was indeed a tunnel, but it had turned out to be only short, the farthest end being sealed with a solid stone slab engraved with an intricate pattern of scrolled lettering. Chappell had ordered it broken down despite the pleas of his historian, Carol Flint.

       "You can't destroy history," she'd shouted at Chappell.

       "What we are about to face is more important than history." The veins in Chappell's neck had throbbed.

       "She's right," Sue had interjected. "We should at least try to translate the inscriptions first."

       "Why," he'd yelled at her. "It's probably just upside down and back to front."

"But the inscriptions," Sue had replied feebly.

       "Fuck your inscriptions," Chappell had raged. "Fuck your history and fuck you."

       Chappell had stormed away still mumbling, only pausing to shout into his radio.

       "Get Sean and Darren down here," he'd ordered. "Tell them to bring the explosives."

       "Give me the camera," Sue had snapped at Carol, taking it and snapping away at the stone slab. If Chappell insisted on destroying it at least she could have proof it had ever existed.

       And that had been the cause of Chappell's problems. Sue had forwarded the high resolution pictures onto the private investor and, within half an hour Chappell had received the call.

       "You've done well Dr Chappell," the Scott's voice had praised. "Now pull your team out. I'm withdrawing the funding as of now."

       "But we've just broken through to the inner chamber," Chappell had argued. "We're on the ver…"

       "You did what?" the voice screamed.

       "We blew the slab."

       "You, Dr Chappell, are a fool," the voice had taken on a panicked edge. "Get your team out now. We'll take over tomorrow." With that the voice had been replaced with a dead line.

"Cunt," Chappell had snapped, throwing the phone across the room.

       He now wanted to be on site before the investor and the new team arrived. He'd left both the night and day shift security with explicit instructions to keep the area sealed until he got back. There was no way he was letting them take the glory after
he had
done all the hard work. Fuck that. He wouldn't be able to make them leave, but he could at least keep control of the project.

       He deserved to be the first one inside the chamber.

       It was his destiny.

       By the time they'd walked out of the hangar Harrison had pulled himself together, but his mood turned darker upon noticing a third person talking with Megan and Peter.

       "What the fuck does he think he's playing at?" He glared at the young man and stamped across the tarmac.

       "Green," Harrison said moodily.

       "Harrison." Green smiled.

       "I told you to stay at home."

       "I know." The smile fell away from Green's face. "But Flannigan insisted that I come along," he explained.

       "And just who the hell does Flannigan think he is?" Harrison barked. "My fucking father?"

       "Listen Harrison," Green didn't back down under Harrison's stare. "Flannigan told the Guvnor what you had planned. I'm only following orders."

       "Shit."

"The Guvnor's pissed at you for going behind his back," Green continued. "He's only letting you do this because of Maria."

       "Fucking marvellous." Harrison let his head fall forward. "Kaci, you got room for one more?" he asked.

       "Sure." Kaci smiled at Green and winked at him.

       "Adam Green," he said, holding out his hand to the female pilot.

       "Any friend of Harrison's is a friend of mine." Kaci took the hand and gave it a firm shake.

       "He's no friend," Harrison cut in. "He's more like a pain in my arse."

       "I like him even more then." Kaci grinned.

       Green fell silent and hoisted his bag on his shoulder a little higher. He hadn't known Harrison long but he respected and feared the Detective in equal measures. Harrison was how Green imagined all policemen should be, an almost Dirty Harry like character who didn't give a shit about anything but upholding the law. Green wished he'd turned out more like Harrison.

       From a young age he'd wanted to be a policeman, but he didn't have any of the makings required. This hadn't perturbed him and he'd followed up the calling in a slightly different way. He'd climbed his way up the ladder the hard way, all the time working towards a career in forensic medicine. If he couldn't chase the criminals down on foot he could at least be satisfied that his skills assured the right person had been chased.

"Better get going," said Kaci, opening the rear door of the helicopter. "All aboard."