Blood in the Marsh (25 page)

Lyra stopped in place, staring at him expectantly. “And?”

“And it’s weird as hell! The damn thing was titled to a corporation in Brunswick, an import business that turned out to be nothing more than an empty rented office with an answering service. So we checked that out and found the import business was owned by another corporation. After spending the whole day on the phone it turns out there’s a damn chain of dummy corporations that end up at one holding company called ASM Odeus, Unlimited, which is not an American business at all. We traced ownership to Spain. That’s as far as we got. We’re trying to run that down now.”

The plates slipped from Lyra’s hands and crashed to the floor. She grabbed the chair for support and gaped at Michael in wide-eyed shock. Nick grabbed her and helped her to sit. “Lyra? What is it?”

“You said ASM Odeus?”

“Yeah.” Michael gave her a curious look. “So?”

“So…” she looked from him to Nick. “In Qabbalistic mythology one of the names of Satan is Asmodeus. Get it? ASM Odeus?”

Michael frowned and cut Nick a strange look. “I’ll admit that’s pretty strange but it’s not enough to make you look like you’re going to faint.”

“But you said you traced it to Spain.”

“And?”

Lyra looked at Nick for a moment. “And in what we read in Lucius’ diary that was the last country the Adversary was in before he came here. I’ll bet if you keep looking you’ll trace that company from Spain to Italy to Yugoslavia to Romania to Bulgaria to Turkey to Lebanon and then…”

Nick nodded and sat down. “And then where? Lucius only told us as far back as Lebanon. No, wait—Syria.”

“That’s right! And he said something about suspecting the Adoul had originally come from Egypt.”

Michael held up his hands. “You two want to fill me in on what you’re babbling about? And by the way, where’s Chelsey?”

Lyra was so worked up about what they were onto that she had completely put the incident that had happened earlier out of her mind. But Michael’s question brought it all back. Not only had that, but the way Michael been looking at her since he returned had her wanting to throw herself at him. She had to be careful. What if Nick noticed? Now was not the time to start trouble between him and Michael. They had too much trouble as it was.

Chapter Nine

Tuesday—Sea Island

Both Michael and Nick left the house early. Lyra stood at the picture window in the living room and watched them drive off, then she went upstairs to wake Chelsey.

Nick had installed additional deadbolts to all the doors and added heavy slide locks that could only be opened from the inside. Michael had drilled holes in all the windows and inserted thick screws so the windows could only be opened if the screws were removed. It had taken them well past midnight to finish and by then they were all tired.

Lyra knew that Chelsey would not be awake for hours unless she was forced to get up. She hated to wake her, but she didn’t want to sit around all morning alone, jumping at every little noise. Setting herself for the grumbling and fussing that was sure to come she knocked on Chelsey’s door.

Brunswick

Michael walked into the front office of the security company and flashed his badge at the receptionist. “Detective Michael Santera. I’d like to speak with your manager, please.”

The girl’s eyes widened in surprise but she quickly controlled it and asked Michael to have a seat while she told the manager, Mr. John Booker, he was there.

Michael sat down and looked around the reception office. He was reaching for a magazine on the small coffee table when the manager walked in. “Detective Santera! Good morning. What can I do for you?”

“Is there somewhere more private we can talk?”

“Yes, of course. Let’s go into my office.”

Michael followed Booker into his office and sat down as Booker took the chair behind the desk. “Now, what brings you here, Detective Santera?”

“Your company provides the security for the old Corelli estate, does it not?”

“Why, yes. We have for a great many years. Why do you ask?”

“Were you aware that there was a breach in your security yesterday morning?”

“That’s impossible! Any type of unauthorized entry through the electronic gate or the fence would have shown up on our boards from the perimeter detectors. And the house itself is equipped with the most sophisticated, state-of-the-art equipment available. As a matter of fact it was just recently updated and put through extensive and thorough diagnostics.”

“Well, then perhaps you can explain how two men could enter the house without setting off any alarms and without tampering with the security on the premises?”

Mr. Booker gaped at him from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. Michael sat calmly waiting for a reply as the man’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Finally, Michael leaned forward and pinned Booker with a hard stare.

“Why don’t I answer that for you, Mr. Booker? There is only one answer. If the security system on the premises wasn’t tampered with then the system would have to have been deactivated from the main office—right here. Now, can you tell me how and why that would have happened?”

“I have no idea!” Booker protested, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. “I assure you, Detective Santera, we have never had anything like this happen, and I will find out how it could have occurred. But it will take me a little time. I will need to check our systems here and speak with my personnel. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow and maybe then I’ll have an answer for you.”

Michael had no doubt that Booker was lying but he had no evidence to back up his theory. He stood and walked to the door. “I’ll stop by. Thanks for your time.”

As soon as he got in his car, he called the station. “Captain Williams, please…Captain, Santera here. Listen, I need a favor. Can you authorize a phone tap for me?… Yeah, it’s a company—Island Security Agency… Well, I’d rather not go into detail right now but I can tell you that one of the places they service was broken into yesterday and the security system never registered it. It hadn’t been tampered with on the premises and I suspect it was deactivated from Island Security so the perps could get in… Sir?… Yes, sir. I will have the owner sign a statement, but I really need to move on this now… Yes, I understand. Thank you anyway, sir.”

He hung up the phone and frowned.

Inside the security office, Mr. Booker had already completed his call. He was still shaking like a leaf. Reporting that their men had been detected and that the police were aware of it was not something he wanted to do. Just like all the other members of the Outer Circle, he was afraid of the Seneschal.

Booker had only spoken with their Master once and he had not had the courage to look him in the eye then. He knew what happened to people who failed in their service to the Dark Lord and had no desire to join their ranks. Now all he could do was wait to see who would come after him first, the police, or his own fellow members.

Sea Island

Lyra and Chelsey spent a long, boring day, watching old movies and wandering around the big house. Nick called several times to check on them and Michael called a couple of times. Lyra’s roommate from North Carolina called to say her stuff had been shipped and should get there the next day. Around six, the phone rang again. They both listened to the message and heard Nick’s voice. “Lyra? It’s me, Nick.”

Lyra snatched up the phone. “Nick! Hi! Are you coming back soon?… Are you sure?… But you said we shouldn’t leave… Well, okay…yes, we’ll see you soon.”

She hung up the phone and turned to Chelsey. “Nick wants us to meet him at the restaurant. He said we’d fine there since it’s a public place and he’ll be there to watch out for us. And he said it’d do us good to get out of the house. We’re supposed to meet him in forty-five minutes.”

“I have to change!” Chelsey started up the stairs, excited at the opportunity to do anything but sit around.

Lyra went up to her room and changed into a pair of white shorts and a pale blue tank top. She brushed out her hair and put on a little makeup then grabbed her sandals and took them downstairs. After a few minutes, Chelsey walked down the stairs. She was dressed to the nines, in a tight, aqua blue halter dress and high, spiked heels.

They got in Chelsey’s car and drove to the restaurant. Lyra didn’t see Nick’s Jeep, but she figured he had just been held up at the studio so she and Chelsey went on in. They ordered drinks and sat in the bar, enjoying just the simple pleasure of being out of the house for a little while.

What they had no way of knowing was that about the same time they were pulling into the restaurant parking lot, Nick was parking his Jeep in the garage at Lucius’ house. When he got inside, he found Michael standing in the kitchen. Michael looked up and handed him a small sheet of paper. “I found this on the refrigerator.”

Nick looked at the message. “Nick—we found something very important. Meet us at the old fort and we’ll show you. Hurry! Lyra.”

“Is that her handwriting?” Michael asked.

Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. Did you check the house?”

“No sign of trouble. From the looks of things they just left.”

“Then we better get to the fort and find out what’s going on.”

They headed for the garage and jumped in Nick’s Jeep. Just as they were pulling down the driveway, the phone rang. At the restaurant, Lyra listened as she got a busy signal. She hung up and looked at Chelsey.

“Maybe it’s Michael.” Chelsey said. “ive it a few minutes and try again. I don’t know about you but I’m starved. Let’s get a table and get something to eat.”

Lyra followed Chelsey to the restaurant. They were seated and the waiter came over to take their order, and for the next few minutes Lyra forgot about calling again.

Frederica National Monument

Nick and Michael pulled up at the Ft. Frederica National Monument. There were only three other cars in the parking area. They didn’t see Chelsey’s red Mercedes and so they decided to sit in the Jeep and wait. Almost an hour passed and the other cars left and tourists had finished snapping their pictures. Nick got out and walked around what was left of the fort. After a few minutes, Michael followed him. They sat down on the edge of one of the crumbling foundations and looked around.

Twilight fell and one of the park rangers who worked there walked over and told them they would have to leave. Michael flashed his badge and told the ranger it was police business. The man frowned but said nothing and turned to walk back to the visitor’s center.

Nick and Michael heard a muffled cry from the direction of the center and they both jumped up. Coming toward them were four men, two wielding cut-off metal pipes and the other two sporting handguns. All were dressed entirely in black and their faces were covered with black ski masks.

Michael knew without looking that Nick had switched into battle mode. He could feel the electricity in the air around them, and while he hoped they could avoid violence if at all possible, he was nonetheless grateful to have Nick by his side—just in case.

“You Santera?” one of the men asked, slapping his pipe against his opened palm.

“Who’s asking?” Michael replied calmly.

The man laughed and looked at the men with him. “Get this guy. He thinks he’s Dirty Harry or something.”

“Well, maybe we should show him how he can squeal like a pig instead,” another of the men sneered.

“And maybe we should just add you to this foundation,” Nick said in a hiss.

“Let’s get down to business.” The leader took charge of the men in black. “You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong and we can’t have that. So, we’re here to make sure you don’t interfere in things that don’t concern you.”

“Well, it’s going to take a lot more than you and your chicken-shit band for that,” Nick replied icily. “So, come on.”

The leader turned to the men with the pipes. “Let’s teach these assholes what pain is before they die.”

The men moved in, but before they had taken more than three steps, Nick had launched himself into the air. His left foot took down one man, and before he landed from the kick, he turned in midair and caught the second man in the chest with a driving punch.

Both men hit the ground and rolled, standing up a little slowly. The braver of the two charged Michael, deciding to take care of him first. Michael watched him coming and waited with his feet planted firmly. Just as the man raised his pipe over his head to strike, Michael ducked and stepped forward. His broad shoulder met the man’s midsection and Michael stood up, lifting the man into the air and sending him flying.

The second man made another move toward Nick but wasn’t fast enough. Nick’s hands moved at lightning speed, driving one punch after another into the man’s face. Teeth broke and bones cracked, blood flying as the man staggered. One last punch to the center of the chest and the man wheezed then fell over at Nick’s feet.

The leader raised his gun, yelling for his partner to do the same. Nick made a dive for him. He heard the report of a weapon behind him and saw the leader go down with a bullet between his eyes. The last man took one look at his fallen comrades and turned tail to run.

Nick chased after him, tackling him as he was scrambling to get in his car. He pinned the man to the pavement and yanked the mask from his face. “Who are you? Who sent you?”

“Fuck you, asshole!”

Nick grabbed the man by the throat and squeezed firmly. “I’m going to ask you once more. Who are you and who sent you?”

Michael ran up and stopped beside Nick. Nick looked up at Michael and in that instant the man grabbed his fallen gun. Nick turned just as the man stuck the barrel in his own mouth and pulled the trigger. Nick dove away as blood and brains splattered the car, the ground, and him.

Michael knelt down beside him. “Do you know who that was?”

“He didn’t introduce himself.” Nick stood up and looked down at the dead man. “I need to make a call.”

“You want to tell me who it is you’re calling?”

“You don’t want to know.” Nick turned his attention to his phone conversation.

Michael shook couldn’t make out what Nick was saying, his voice was so low. But he did catch a couple of words and phrases. He heard the words ‘hard target’, which he knew to be a phrase used to describe a situation in which there was difficulty in penetrating the group the agent was trying to infiltrate. And he heard Nick say something about thinking it was best the target was terminated with extreme prejudice.

Nick must have gotten some argument after that comment because his voice got lower and his body tensed. At last, he ended the conversation, saying something about getting some watchers in the area and setting himself up as an asset. Michael wasn’t sure what that was about.

As he hung up the phone, Nick took a deep breath and his expression was less fierce when he turned and looked at Michael, but it wasn’t changed enough. Michael knew then that Nick had never given up his old line of work at all. He was not just a stringer, an occasional or freelance operative. He was still the genuine article.

“So what now?”

“The bodies will be retrieved and the ID’s checked out. We’ll know by tomorrow morning everything there is to know about them. In the meantime we’ve got to find Lyra before whoever’s running these guys does.”

They got in the Jeep and Michael looked over at Nick as he pulled onto the road from the park. “You’re still a Company man, aren’t you?”

“I thought we’d already covered that.”