King's Crusade (Seventeen) (12 page)

‘You’re right,’ he said absentmindedly. He was staring at something over her shoulder.

‘We’re missing something’ she muttered.

‘Yeah,’ said Jackson woodenly, his gaze still focused beyond her. ‘And I think it’s a big something.’

Alexa turned to see what had captured his attention.

A diesel locomotive was coming down the dock on a set of rail tracks. It slowed to a stop just before it reached the end of the pier. A couple of men oversaw the locomotive’s linkup with the row of goods wagons that stood at the ready.

She scowled. ‘A freight train?’

Jackson slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. ‘Of course!’ he exclaimed. ‘The Istanbul-Baghdad railway!’

She turned and looked at him carefully. ‘What are you talking about?’

He went to the pickup, grabbed his duffel bag, and took out a thick, worn tome. ‘In 1903, work began to extend the Anatolian Railway, which was originally built by the Germans in the late 1800s to connect Istanbul to Ankara and Konya,’ he said, riffling through the book and stopping at a page. She joined him and looked at the section he indicated. ‘Previous to that, the German Empire constructed the Oriental Railway to link Berlin and Istanbul,’ Jackson continued with an animated expression. ‘The Germans wanted to access Baghdad and the Ottoman Empire directly from Berlin and ultimately build a port in the Persian Gulf. From there, they would be able to bypass the Suez Canal and reach their easternmost colonies. This would have given them economic and political dominance in the area, never mind the direct oil supply for their flourishing industry.’ He gave Alexa a wry grimace. ‘Of course, the British, French, and Russians were not exactly ecstatic about this. The Germans’ plans greatly threatened their interests in the region. A series of technical and financial setbacks, not to mention the advent of the First World War, slowed down the construction of the new railway. It wasn’t completed until 1940.’

Alexa digested this information thoughtfully. ‘Is it still in use today?’ She stared at the map depicting the projected Istanbul-Baghdad route.

‘Quite a lot of it is in fair working order and most of the original stations still stand,’ Jackson replied. He perused the busy port. ‘And there are at least half a dozen dockside rail connections from here to the main lines that link Mersin to Adana.’

She twisted on her heels and stared at the freight train. ‘Are you saying the artifacts may have been loaded on a train here?’

Jackson sighed and closed the book. ‘I’m not saying anything. But it would seem a strange coincidence that the geographic coordinates for the forwarding address of the missing container from Hassan’s shipment led us directly to a set of rail tracks, don’t you think?’

Alexa drummed the fingers of her right hand against her thigh. The tomb raiders had gone to a lot of trouble to cover their tracks. That fact, combined with what had transpired in Port Said, spoke volumes about their adversaries. ‘They could have gone anywhere from here,’ she muttered.

‘I think I have a good idea where they went,’ said Jackson. An amused smile lit up his face. ‘In fact, I’d bet big money on it.’

She stared at him. ‘Well?’

His blue eyes gleamed in the bright sunlight. ‘Istanbul.’

‘And what makes you so sure they’ve gone there?’ asked Alexa.

Jackson grinned. ‘Because the last time I visited the place, I heard rumors of a secret society expanding its influence in the city’s underworld.’

Part Two: Hunt

Chapter Nine

T
hey arrived in Istanbul around
sunset that day. Alexa had hired the private charter Sikorsky helicopter again, this time to take them from Adana Airport to Ataturk International, fifteen miles from the center of the city. Jackson asked whether her AMEX card had ever maxed out.

She didn’t reply. There was no need for him to know that the credit limit on it could buy her a small island in the Caribbean.

She had booked another rental car before leaving Adana. The silver Ford Taurus sat waiting outside the terminal building. They put their bags in the boot and got in.

‘This doesn’t feel right,’ said Jackson as she pulled away from the curb.

‘What doesn’t?’ asked Alexa with a faint frown. A light snow had started to fall over the city.

‘This car. It just isn’t you.’ He shook his head, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. ‘I was expecting some sort of kick-ass black SUV.’

She felt her lips quiver in an involuntary smile and turned her head to hide the unexpected reaction. She glared at the traffic outside while she tried to clamp down on her emotions; she was starting to get annoyed at her response to the man sitting a few inches from her.

The satellite phone rang minutes later. She glanced at the number and handed the receiver to Jackson. ‘It’s your friend.’

He took the call. ‘Ismael? Hi. Thanks for ringing back. Can we meet up?’ He glanced outside the window. ‘We’re just passing Topkapi Park.’ He listened for several seconds, then grabbed a pen and paper from his bag. ‘Okay, tell me where.’

Earlier that day, Alexa had contacted the Crovir techs to see if they could uncover information on possible Rosicrucian-linked orders making waves in Istanbul’s criminal underworld. Despite access to one of the largest databases in the world, the Crovirs had failed to come up with any useful intel on the subject.

It was Jackson who suggested they talk to his friend, a retired university professor who had lived in Istanbul his entire life. The man was apparently well-versed in the religious and political undercurrents of his hometown. They arranged to meet in the Kumkapi neighborhood of the Fatih district, on the historic peninsula south of the Golden Horn.

Alexa parked the Taurus outside the pedestrian-only area and they walked to a small square with a quaint water fountain. Despite the cold and the snow flurry, the place was packed with locals and tourists. Jackson led her down a crowded passage to a seafood restaurant. They ordered some beer while they waited.

Ismael Sadik arrived fifteen minutes later. He greeted Jackson with a bear hug and a hearty slap on the back. Alexa studied him silently while he removed his winter coat.

It was difficult to believe that the plump, elderly gentleman with the well-worn clothes and faded, scuffed shoes was an internationally renowned emeritus professor of philosophy and religious studies at Istanbul University.

Sadik smiled pleasantly when Jackson introduced her.

It did not take long for Alexa to realize that the professor’s intellect had not faded with age. His perceptive eyes were bright and sparkled with humor while he and Jackson traded tales across the table. The older man reminded her of the tutors Reznak had hired to teach her three centuries ago, when she went to live with him.

‘How did you two meet?’ she asked curiously after a waiter had taken their orders.

Sadik grinned at Jackson. ‘Why, this young man here came to deliver a lecture at our university some twenty years ago.’ He patted Jackson heavily on the shoulder, making him wince. ‘He was passionate, arrogant, ridiculously naïve, and the youngest professor of philosophy and religious studies the world had seen. Actually, he was
the
youngest professor the world had seen. How old were you at the time?’

Alexa could tell Sadik knew the answer well. It was nonetheless amusing to see Jackson squirm in his seat.

‘Seventeen,’ he muttered into his beer. The tips of his ears had turned bright red.

Sadik laughed out loud and leaned across the table. ‘Do you know what the funniest thing was?’ he said. ‘He couldn’t even drink alcohol at the reception held in his honor afterward—because he was still underage.’

She clenched her jaw to stop herself from smiling. ‘I thought your area of expertise was socio-cultural anthropology and archaeology,’ she said, turning to stare at Jackson with a deadpan expression.

Sadik shook his head. ‘I can tell you don’t know our Jackson very well!’ he said with a chortle. ‘That’s only one of his pet subjects. He has postdoctoral degrees in several of the social and natural sciences.’

Alexa was impressed despite herself. She knew that Jackson was smart, and she was coming to accept Reznak’s opinion that he was quite likely the most gifted human he had ever crossed paths with; she was certain they would not have gotten this far this fast without his insight. Yet, she found herself vaguely troubled about all that she did
not
know about the man who had been her constant companion for the last four days.

It was not until their empty dishes had been taken away that Jackson finally broached the subject of secret societies. Although she appreciated the subtle way he introduced the topic into the conversation, she could tell from Sadik’s sharp expression that the retired professor was not falling for the trick.

‘What’s this really about, Jackson?’ he asked finally. He shook his head at the waiter who came to ask whether they wanted any coffee and leaned back in his chair. ‘The only time you ever play your cards this close to your chest is when you’re working on something big.’

Jackson smiled. ‘I guess there’s no pulling the wool over your eyes.’ He glanced at Alexa hesitantly.

She placed her elbows on the table, folded her arms, and gazed steadily at the retired professor. ‘Just over a month ago, my employer discovered a pair of interlinked caves in the Eastern Desert mountains in Egypt. The first and largest of these caves had unfortunately been raided by an unknown party, and my employer believes valuable artifacts were stolen from it. Jackson and I have been charged with finding the missing relics.’

Sadik went still. ‘Even though I’m not working at the university anymore, I think I would have heard about such a substantial discovery,’ said the professor.

‘My employer works for a very … private organization,’ said Alexa quietly.

Sadik studied her for a while, then looked at Jackson. ‘I never thought I’d see the day when you’d become a treasure hunter.’ Despite the professor’s light tone, she detected mild disapproval in his voice.

Jackson grimaced. ‘Trust me, old friend, this is more than a simple treasure hunt,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you about it someday—if I live through the next week.’

‘It sounds like you’ve gotten yourself involved in something dangerous,’ said Sadik.

‘That’s why I’m asking for your help,’ said Jackson.

The retired professor mulled over these words for a moment. ‘You’ve always been an excellent friend,’ he said finally. ‘I’d be remiss were I not to honor the bonds of our long-lived relationship. What is it that you wish to know?’

‘Thank you,’ said Jackson with soft sigh. He leaned across the table. ‘When I was here five years ago, I heard stories of a secret sect that had infiltrated the city’s underworld and was expanding its influence in Istanbul’s corridors of power.’

A guarded look appeared in Sadik’s eyes. ‘You are correct,’ he said. ‘There were indeed such rumors circulating, not just in Istanbul but in other cities and countries in the region.’

‘Was there any truth to them?’ asked Jackson, sitting back in the chair. ‘I mean, have you personally ever come across any concrete evidence that would support these speculations?’

‘In what way is this linked to your quest?’ said Sadik.

Jackson looked questioningly at Alexa. She dipped her chin slightly.

‘We came across a symbol during our search for the missing artifacts,’ said Jackson. ‘It’s a cross with a rose entwined around it.’

The older man went still. ‘The
Rose Croix
?’ he said. ‘You’re certain?’

Jackson nodded and glanced at her. She knew from the look in his eyes that they were thinking the same thing.

Sadik knew something—and the retired professor did not appear thrilled about that fact.

The older man stared at his hands for almost a full minute before speaking again. ‘The rumors you mentioned are not just in the past, Jackson,’ he said slowly. ‘They still exist to this very day. In fact, I have recently seen and heard of things happening in the upper echelons of our society that make me fear for the very future of our country.’

Sadik looked up then. Alexa was surprised by the trepidation in his eyes. Jackson straightened at her side.

‘You and I both know the history and legends about secret societies from the time of the Egyptian dynasties through the antiquities and beyond, so I won’t bore you with a lecture on the subject,’ Sadik continued solemnly. ‘As you’re well aware, there have been many conspiracy theories involving ancient secret orders thought to have influenced world events over the last century. Some of these cabals or secret societies, such as the Illuminati, have been accused of wanting to establish a New World Order, where the entire planet would come under the rule of a single, authoritarian government consisting of the members of a powerful elite.’ He stopped at this point, as if to gather his thoughts. ‘What has become evident from my observation of general events since I entered academia is that one such secret order has been coming to the fore in ways that the others have not been able to achieve.’

‘Surely the press would have been all over this if that were the case,’ said Jackson. ‘We all know they like nothing better than a good conspiracy theory.’

Sadik nodded briefly. ‘You’re right. And there have been articles in newspapers—not just in this country but in many others, including Europe and the States—over the last forty to fifty years. But, and this is an important “but”, they have never made the headlines. And it’s frankly astonishing how many of the journalists who authored those features have been discredited, faded into anonymity, been made redundant, or suffered “accidents” that have put a stop to their careers, if not their very lives.’

‘Are you suggesting those reporters were deliberately targeted?’ said Jackson.

Sadik shrugged. ‘There has never been any conclusive evidence to support ardent advocates of conspiracy theories. There have, however, been too many such…incidents…for it to be mere coincidence or fate.’

Alexa scrutinized the professor. ‘What are these “ways” in which this so-called secret order has been outdoing others before it?’ she asked.

‘There is no single definable event that I can point to,’ said Sadik, lowering his voice. ‘Instead, it’s the general undertone of the decisions and ideas being cast in the political, social, and religious arenas of this country and other powerful states in this region that arouses my suspicions—and the suspicions of others like me. This goes far beyond the “Deep State” in Turkey. Already we’re seeing governments intruding into our personal lives, above and beyond the rights of a legitimate democracy; and this they profess to do in the name of the greater good.’ His tone grew sharper and a flush darkened his skin. ‘There are laws and bills being passed that would see our freedoms and our right to voice our opinions severely restricted. More worrying still are the whisperings about covert police and armed forces being set up to control and subdue potential public uprisings in the future.’ He took a deep breath. The color in his cheeks subsided slightly. ‘Of course, these are, as you said, just rumors and speculations. But I believe there is a common strategy, a higher purpose shall we say, underpinning all these actions. It’s as if whoever is behind this is preparing for something. Something big.’