The Guardian (33 page)

He walked upstairs to his private study, protected by a dead bolt lock and a keyless number pad. He undid the locks and went inside to his desk to retrieve another key. He crossed the room to a wall where a Picasso hung and removed it, revealing a safe also protected by a two-lock security system.

He entered his code and turned the key. There was a grinding sound as the metal from the dead bolts retreated. He turned the lever of the handle, and the door swung open.

A small leather briefcase sat on the shelf inside. He took it out

and relocked the safe. After setting the case on his desk, he opened it and grabbed the small .38 caliber handgun concealed inside.

He’d bought the gun on the black market several years ago. The serial numbers had been filed off, and the whole firing mechanism had been replaced twice. When he bought it, he was told that the gun was a ghost. He’d only hoped that was correct.

He pulled the clip and checked the ammo. Still full, minus two rounds. The only two he’d ever fired. That night he’d first used the gun was one he would never forget. It was the reason he bought the gun. A young, vibrant college exchange student from Russia named Alexi.

Needless to say, she would never talk to the media and tell them about the wild weekend they spent together in Monte Carlo. That’s what she’d threatened to do unless he gave her a half million dollars and bought her a nice apartment in the city. He would’ve been ruined.

What he did that night was what led him to find people like Jonathan. He’d spent the next month looking over his shoulder, living in fear. He vowed never again to get his own hands dirty with something like that. He liked the power of wielding life over death. He just didn’t want to do it himself. It was enough simply knowing he ordered it. So he spent the next month in back alleys and seedy places asking questions about people who could “get things done.” He was actually amused at how easy it was to find such people.

But now things had changed. If Jonathan screwed up again, Wickham would be dead. The risk was too great to rely on someone so inept. He had no choice but to get his own hands dirty. If everything worked out the way he envisioned it, not only would he have the scroll in his possession by tonight, but there would also be no more loose ends.

W
ickham’s plane touched down and pulled to the private terminal. He stepped off the aircraft and immediately into a car that was waiting for him.

The car took him to his hotel, where he quietly made his way to his room. He stretched out on the bed and massaged his temples—something he liked to do after a flight.

After a fifteen-minute rest, he opened his bag and took out his phone.

Jonathan answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“In Jerusalem. I told you that.”

“I mean specifically.”

“In an old CIA safe house. What does it matter?” “It doesn’t, I suppose.”

“Well, did you call me just to ask where I was, or did you need something? I’m kind of busy right now.”

“I called for a progress report,” he said agitated. “I
do
pay you,

you know. I think I’m entitled to know what’s going on.”

“Where are you, Wickham?” Jonathan asked with hesitation.

“What? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” Jonathan said. “She’s staying at the King David Hotel. We are watching her.”

He almost lost his breath. The King David Hotel. She was here. In the same building. “If you know where she is, then why haven’t you taken her yet?”

“Four or five guys snatching a young American girl off the street would gather some attention, don’t you think? Why don’t you let me do my job and get off my back!”

He was too excited to let Jonathan’s tone upset him. The girl was right under his nose. This might be easier than he thought. “Yes, Jonathan. You know what—never mind. Just do your job and get me that scroll. Oh, and I need you to send me a photo of her.”

“What’s going on, Louis?” he demanded. “What—oh, nothing. It’s just very busy around here. You know. I’m a little distracted right now.”
“You
called me.”

He cleared his throat. “I need to go. Do your job and get me what I’m paying you for. Send me that photo. You can send it to my PDA. You have that number, yes?”

“Yeah, I have it,” Jonathan said. “I’ll send it.”

Wickham hung up the phone and tried to contain the excitement that was coursing through his veins.

Jonathan heard the abrupt
click
through his earpiece. Wickham had hung up on him again. One of these days, he was going to have to teach a certain cardinal some manners.

His team was up and moving around the house, getting ready to leave. He had two men watching the King David, ready to call the minute the girl left the building. Everything was in place, and the plan was a good one.

And yet he had that awful sinking feeling in his gut—the one that told him he’d better have eyes in the back of his head or he might not have a head anymore. He’d only had that feeling four other times in his life. Three of them, it saved his life. The last one he ignored. And it got him a bullet in his leg and almost cost him his life, not to mention the six million Remy stole. He tasted the bile in his throat as he remembered the cathedral at Oloron-Sainte-Marie.

“Listen up, everyone!” he shouted. Everyone stopped in their tracks and focused on him. “I don’t know what’s going on, but something’s not right. Keep your eyes open and your ears on full alert. When Frick and Frack call back here with an update, we’ll move. But, and I’ll only say this once, you do nothing without my explicit permission. Is that understood?”

The men nodded.

“All right. Then mount up and be ready to move.”

He reached inside his briefcase and retrieved a photo of the girl he’d taken. He opened his laptop, scanned the picture, and sent it to Wickham.

The laptop chimed and alerted him that his mail had been sent. The bile in his throat returned. Something definitely wasn’t right. That sinking feeling was getting stronger.

The King David Hotel

“Jason, what are we going to do?” Anna paced back and forth across the living room of the suite. “I mean, I’m sure that people have been looking for that place for thousands of years. Even before Jesus. And now we, a Baptist missionary and college student, are going to just miraculously discover it?”

“Yes.”

“Jason”—she blew out a breath in exasperation—”this is crazy. We can’t do this.”

Jason smiled. “Aren’t you the same person who, just five days ago, sat next to a special agent of the Israeli government and threatened him? That doesn’t sound like someone who thinks she can’t do something.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. We’re talking about the Garden of Eden.”

“Anna, think about it. You have in your possession the most significant Christian relic in the history of Christianity. Its sole purpose is to show the possessor of such relic—that’s you—how to get there! We can do it.”

She let out a long breath and sat down on the sofa. Jason could see the worry on her face. He walked behind the sofa and massaged her shoulders. “We can do this. We can. Your grandfather thought so. So did Vin. And so do I.”

The tension lessened from her neck and shoulders. “Okay. We can do this. Now what?”

Jason leaned down and put his cheek against hers. “Now we go to a cosmetics store.”

“What?”

He straightened and sat on the back of the sofa. “We’re supposed to meet Benjamin in twelve hours. Neither one of us looks Arabic. So I was thinking we should try to find something that will change our complexion. And we need to get you a haircut.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Well, it’s long,” he said, stating the obvious.

“Yeah? So?”

“So, only women have long hair here. Not guys. And if you’re going to get into that mosque tonight, you need to look like a guy.”

A
nna and Jason stopped at the front desk and asked the concierge where they might find some shopping. He told them that the neighborhood of West Jerusalem was a very popular area of town for just that.

They found a little boutique where they purchased a dark makeup base, some scissors, and some hair coloring. Hungry, they grabbed lunch at a sidewalk café.

They hadn’t been sitting there for very long when a young lady passed by their table, dropping a small folded note onto their table. She didn’t stop or turn to look at either one of them. The note was simply dropped, inconspicuously, right in front of Anna.

Anna almost called after the woman, but she remembered the note that was given to her before in the same manner at a café like this one. After reading the note, she grabbed Jason’s hand. “We need to go. Now!”

Jason didn’t bother to ask why or what was going on. He

quickly retrieved a twenty shekel note, threw it on the table and hurried after her.

“Anna, what’s going on?” he asked, falling in behind her. “What did that note say?”

Pulling him by the arm, she used her free hand to open the door to a cab sitting on the corner. She jumped in the backseat and dragged him in with her. The door shut and the cab sped off. She turned to him, eyes wide, and handed him the note.

Jason immediately sat up straight. “Anna,” his words were sharp and hushed, “what are you thinking? You don’t even know who these people are. This could be a trap! These people could be trying to kill you.”

“No, it’s okay. The lady who dropped the note … she was the same person who gave us the note at that café before.”

“Are you sure?” His question was almost desperate. “I don’t like this. How am I supposed to protect you—us—if you just take off like that without—”

“It’s all right, Jason. I’m positive. I never forget a face. It was her.”

He relaxed a bit. “Okay. If you say so, but I still don’t like it. Do you have your”—he pointed at her ankle—”you know.”

She shook her head. “How could I? We flew commercial, remember?”

The cab made a sharp turn into an alley and then immediately into a garage. Two men appeared out of nowhere and shut the big door behind them, casting the room into almost complete darkness. The locks in the doors snapped as the two men made their way from the garage door to either side of the cab. They opened the doors simultaneously and reached inside.

Gently but firmly they grabbed Anna and Jason and pulled them out of the car.

“Where are you taking us?” Jason demanded. “You let her go! Now!” He tried to twist away from the man, but it was no use. This guy was very big and very strong. And the way he had Jason locked in his grip, there was little to no chance of him getting away.

“It’s all right, sir. We’re here to help. This is all just precaution.”

The other one chimed in. “Miss Anna, we’re sorry for all the confusion. We’re almost there.”

The men led them from the garage through a doorway that led to a steep set of stairs. They climbed all the way to the top and through the door that awaited them. The men let go. One of them moved to the windows and pulled all the curtains. The other secured the door they just came through. When they were finished, they stood at attention. Seconds later a door that stood against the opposite wall opened and the woman who had given them the note appeared.

“Hello, Anna. Jason.” She nodded at them. “Sorry for all the cloak-’n’-dagger!” Her accent was cockney and very thick.

“What’s going on?” Jason demanded again.

The woman smiled and held her hand up. “It’s all right, love. Nothing to worry about. Well, not anymore. I didn’t see them all the way here. Not that good, they ain’t!”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Anna spoke for the first time since arriving.

“Well, deary, it seems you’ve acquired an admirer,” the woman said.

“What do you mean?” Anna asked.

“I mean you got a tail, love.” She smiled a quirky smile.

Anna stared blankly at her.

“Someone’s been following you,” she said, as if she were explaining it to a little child. “And they don’t look friendly.”

T
he two men watched Anna and Jason get up from the table abruptly and head for a cab. Before they could even get away from their own table, which was directly across the street at another café, Anna and Jason were gone.

They were standing in the middle of the street looking both ways when a man asked one of them for a light. He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth and a sly grin on his face. As the lighter was being offered, he reached out and stuck the barrel of a gun under the man’s arm.

“Both of you come with me,” he said casually. “And don’t make any sudden moves or I’ll pull the trigger. And my friends watching us will shoot you”—he nodded to the other man”—right between those pretty blue eyes.”

The men glanced at each other and complied. Apparently they had the good sense not to want to die quite yet.

Christopher Wallace had been a little leery of sending a team with Anna to Jerusalem. But now, seeing what was taking place

here, he was glad that he did. And he was glad that he came himself. His years of service to Thomas, Anna’s grandfather, wouldn’t allow him to abandon Anna, especially after hearing from an informant what happened to Hale. He glared at the back of the two buffoons he’d intercepted as he nudged them forward and into a deserted alley. He then motioned them into an abandoned building and closed the door behind them.

“Sit down, both of you.”

The men just looked at him.

“Gentlemen, I’m not in the habit of repeating myself. That’s rule number one. If I have to again, I’ll shoot one of you. Then the other one can tell me what I need to know. Now, sit down.”