by Alex Lukeman
"I can't translate this, but I know someone who might be able to do it. Until recently, we worked together."
"Are you thinking of Stephanie?" Nick asked.
"Yes, and Freddie. She still has access to him."
"Freddie?" Dubois said. "Freddie who? Do I know him?"
"I don't think so," Selena said. "Not many people do."
"How soon can you talk to this person?"
"Today."
"I can leave this here," Dubois said. "I have another copy in my briefcase."
"Perfect."
Dubois looked at his watch and stood.
"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. You'll call me as soon as you know something?"
"Of course."
He took a card from his pocket and wrote a number on the back.
"Here's my card. That's my cell on the back. I'll be here in Washington for another week. Call anytime."
Nick waited until Dubois had closed the door behind him.
"I don't like him. Maybe it's those beady eyes, but something feels off about him."
"He's an academic," Selena said. "A lot of people in his field are a little odd. Social graces aren't his strong point."
"I suppose you're right."
"I'll call Stephanie. It will be nice to see her and Elizabeth again. I miss the daily interaction with everyone."
"Yeah," Nick said. "It was a hell of a team."
He rubbed his hand over his face.
Forgot to shave.
He went into the bedroom and took off his shirt. He always splashed water on his shirt if he wore it when he shaved. In the bathroom he lathered up, thinking about Dubois and his Templar document. The motion of the razor as he stroked away the white lather and stubble was calming. There was something to be said for the mundane daily rituals of life. They provided an illusion of stability. Shaving was as predictable as the sunrise. Predictability was good, after years of chaos.
The face that began to emerge from the lather looked tired. There were dark shadows under his eyes. His eyes were a curious blend of gray and gold. Selena had once told him she thought they looked like the eyes of a wolf.
On the wrong side of forty, his face was no longer young. It was starting to show the effects of years spent in harsh environments with little or no protection from sun and weather. He'd never been handsome, whatever that meant. The kindest thing people said about his looks was that they were "rugged." He didn't much care what people thought of the way he looked. It was what it was.
Finished shaving, he rinsed the razor and wiped away the remnants of lather with a towel.
He studied his image in the mirror and touched a purplish, puckered scar on his chest, where he'd taken a round years ago. It had done some damage and hurt like hell, but it hadn't killed him.
The look on Selena's face when she'd seen the Templar document told him a lot. His intuition was sounding alarms. If that document really had anything to do with the lost Templar gold, things were going to get complicated.
Soon.
CHAPTER 4
Stephanie Willits was having a hard time adjusting to life after the Project. The break up of the unit had brought about one good result. Things had gotten a lot better between her and Lucas. She was newly pregnant with a potential sister or brother for little Matthew. She wasn't sure why things had gotten better, she was just happy they had.
She was looking and feeling better. She slept easier, now that she didn't have the stress of dealing with a constant stream of enemies out to destroy America, or worrying about threats to her life. Even so, it was hard to break the habit of looking over her shoulder every time she left home.
Stephanie wasn't the sort of woman who turned heads with her looks, but she was attractive in her own way. She had a kind and generous face that made people feel she was someone that could be trusted. She had shining auburn hair, left long. Sometimes she worked it into a braid, sometimes a ponytail. She wasn't big on jewelry, except for the gold bangles she liked to wear on her left wrist. The bangles were one of her few indulgences. That, and the big gold hoops she liked for earrings.
Stephanie spent most afternoons during the week at Elizabeth's Georgetown home, helping to organize and edit notes and chapters for the book Elizabeth was writing about her time as director of the Project. Steph was a natural for the job, since she'd been with the Project since the beginning. Sometimes she helped Elizabeth fill in gaps in memory, or added a personal recollection.
It wasn't like the old days at Project HQ, but it was better than sitting at home and wondering what to do with herself. When Selena called, it was a welcome interruption. She listened as Selena told her about the document.
"I'd like to have Freddie take a look at it."
"I'm at Elizabeth's. Why don't you come over now? She'll be thrilled to see you."
"You're sure I won't be interrupting?"
"Of course not. Elizabeth will be happy to see you. So will Freddie, in a manner of speaking."
"I miss those booming interruptions when we were sitting in Elizabeth's office planning a mission."
Steph laughed.
"Hard to boom through a laptop speaker."
"Nick can watch the twins," Selena said. "There's also something I'd like to run by Elizabeth."
"Somehow it's hard for me to get used to the idea of Nick as a babysitter."
Selena laughed. "I may have found a nanny for the children. She's been recommended by friends, so I'm going to try her out. But Nick is it for the moment. I'll be there in half an hour."
Stephanie went into the other room. Elizabeth Harker was staring at her computer and tapping her fingers on the desk.
Elizabeth wore jeans, slippers, and a long green and black flannel shirt that hung loosely on her small body. It was a big change from the tailored power suits she'd worn when she was a player in the cutthroat politics of U.S. intelligence. Her hair was black, streaked with silver, brushed back like raven wings on the sides. Her milk white skin was slightly flushed. She was no longer the director of one of America's premier counterterrorism units, but nothing had changed about the fire in her emerald green eyes.
One other thing hadn't changed. Over the years she'd made many enemies. She still kept a loaded pistol in reach. A Sig 229 loaded with .40 caliber hollow points lay within reach on her desk.
"You look like you could use a break," Stephanie said. "Selena is coming over. She has something she wants Freddie to look at and she wants to talk with you."
"Wonderful. Maybe it will shake something loose up here." Elizabeth tapped the side of her head and gestured at the computer monitor. "I'm stuck trying to write about what happened in Korea. I have to be careful I don't get anyone in trouble."
"A lot of the players are dead," Stephanie said. "It shouldn't be too difficult."
"I suppose you're right. But when you write about things like this, there's always some lawyer out there looking to make a quick buck and ready to accuse you of slander or worse."
Elizabeth stood. "I could use a cup of coffee. How about you?"
"You read my mind."
While the coffee was brewing, Elizabeth asked, "What does Selena want to talk about?"
"She didn't say."
"Mmm."
Selena arrived at Elizabeth's Georgetown brownstone twenty minutes later. The security camera showed her standing on the stoop. She waved at the camera.
Elizabeth opened the door.
"Selena. You just made my day."
They hugged. Selena went inside.
"Hi, Steph."
"Hi."
Another hug and Elizabeth led them into the kitchen.
"We just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?"
"I would. It's getting nippy out there. How's the book going?"
"It's going. Just not today."
The three women chatted for a few minutes.
Elizabeth said, "Steph said you had something you wanted to talk with me about?"
"
Yes. I have an idea I want to run by you."
Selena told them about her idea for a consulting group specializing in difficult security situations.
"It sounds like you want to reconstitute the Project," Elizabeth said.
"No, not really. What's different is that we wouldn't be actively going after the bad guys, just advising others on how to deal with them."
"What would you want me to do?" Elizabeth asked. "I'm not the director anymore."
"You may not be the director, but you know a lot and you have great connections. The whole idea is that we would work together as a team to come up with creative solutions for the sorts of problems we're used to dealing with. Only this time, we let other people do the hard part."
"The hard part?"
"You know, where someone tries to kill you."
"Oh, that part."
They all laughed.
"Funny you should mention this," Elizabeth said. "I've had some discreet inquiries asking for my opinion on a few tricky issues. I still have my security clearances."
"See? That's what I mean. And now that we're not working for the government, we'd have a lot more freedom."
"That works both ways," Stephanie said. "We might have more freedom, but we also don't have any official protection or backup."
"We never had much protection anyway," Elizabeth said. "Almost everything we did was deniable. Although it was nice to be able to order up a helicopter or a jet when we needed one."
"You both know how much money my uncle left me when he died," Selena said. "There's more than I could ever spend. It can buy us a lot of backup if we need it. Besides, we're not talking about missions like we used to do. There's no reason for people to target us again. I can fund the startup. We could incorporate as an LLC."
Maybe, Stephanie thought.
"How is Freddy?" Selena asked. "I have something for him to look at. It may prove to be a challenge."
"He could use a challenge. To tell you the truth, I think he's bored. At Langley, he's just another computer. They don't really understand his potential over there. They have him doing things that are far below his capability."
"I would've thought DCI Hood would know how to utilize him."
"Langley is a huge bureaucracy," Elizabeth said. "Clarence can't micromanage everyone under him. I don't think the people in the Directorate of Science and Technology understand what Freddie can do."
"Do you have any problems accessing him?"
"Not yet. I've been using him to make sure my facts are accurate in the book. But I'm worried about the future. As long as Steph and I have our security clearances, there isn't a problem. I'm not sure what will happen if they get revoked."
"I know I just brought up this idea of a consulting group, but having Freddie to work with would give us a real advantage. What if I purchased a new home for him?"
"Do you know how much one of those big Crays costs?" Stephanie said.
"The money isn't an issue," Selena said.
"Where would you put the computer?"
"There's plenty of office space available in Virginia. We could rent or buy a building and install it there."
"I have to think about it," Elizabeth said. "The idea is intriguing."
"It wouldn't be like before," Selena said. "A consulting firm isn't the same thing as the Project. With your contacts, we'd have more business than we could handle."
"That's true," Elizabeth said. "In a way, it's what people would expect. A lot of people leave government service and become consultants of one kind or another."
"We be working for ourselves," Selena said. "We can pick and choose what clients we want. It could be fun."
"What was it you wanted to ask Freddie about?" Stephanie asked.
"I have a document, a copy of something written in the 1300s. It's in code. I want him to look at it and see if it can be translated."
Stephanie booted up her computer and entered the encrypted code that accessed Freddie. Elizabeth's home had a dedicated fiber-optic line that connected with Langley and the rest of the intelligence community, installed when she was running the Project. Any time Stephanie accessed Freddie, the communication was secure.
"Good morning, Freddie. How are you today?"
Good morning Stephanie. I am always the same. How are you?
Selena was used to Freddie's voice booming through the speakers in Elizabeth's office at Project headquarters. It was difficult to connect the tinny voice coming through Stephanie's desktop with the powerhouse artificial intelligence that was Freddie.
"I'm fine. Selena is here and she would like to speak with you."
"Hello, Freddie."
Hello Selena. I have missed our interactions. How are you today?
"I'm good, Freddie. It's nice to hear your voice again."
Did you bring your children?
Surprised, Selena said, "No, I didn't."
When will I meet them?
"I didn't know you wanted to meet them."
I would like to meet them.
"I'm sure there will be an opportunity soon, Freddie. Meanwhile, I have a challenging problem for you."
I would enjoy a challenging problem. The programmers here at Langley do not often give me something interesting to do.
"I have a document I'd like you to look at."
What kind of document?
"It's a copy of a parchment that dates back hundreds of years, written mostly in medieval French. That wouldn't usually be a problem, but this is written in code. No one can read it."
What is it that you require of me?
"I'd like to scan it into your database and see if you can break the code and translate the content. It's historically important. It may have been written by one of the Knights Templar, hundreds of years ago."
There are several organizations calling themselves Knights Templar. Which one are you referring to?
"The original order, founded in 1120 by Hugh de Payns."
You are referring to the Poor Fellow Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon?
"That is correct, Freddie."
Please scan the document for me.
Selena handed Stephanie the copy. Stephanie scanned it into her computer and sent it to Freddie.
I have received the document. The first line is the Latin version of the motto of the Knights Templar.
"We're aware of that, Freddie," Selena said. "It's the rest of the text that interests us."
Processing.
"He'll let me know when it's done," Stephanie said.
Selena said, "I hope it doesn't take too long for him to figure it out."
"It could be nothing more than a letter, or a requisition for something the writer needed for his horse."
"It could be. But if it's something as mundane as that, why put it in code? And even though it's a Templar relic, why would someone be willing to pay a lot of money to know what it says?"
"How much money?"
"A hundred thousand dollars."
Stephanie whistled.
"How about another cup of coffee?" Selena asked.
CHAPTER 5
Selena sat talking with Stephanie and Elizabeth for about an hour. She was thinking about leaving when Freddie's voice interrupted.
Selena.
"Yes, Freddie?"
I have translated the document.
Selena looked at the others.
"That was fast. I thought it would take longer, even for you."
My recent enhancements have increased my processing speed by twelve point nine percent.
"I've been tweaking his program," Stephanie said.
Selena waited, then realized that Freddie wasn't going to say anything more.
"Freddie?"
Yes, Selena?
"What does the document say?"
The document was written by a sergeant in the Templar Order in October of 1307. Would you like me to display it on Stephanie's monitor?
Selena sighed in frustration at Freddie's literal way o
f doing things. She wanted to know what the coded message said. No one had read what was on that parchment in seven hundred years.
"Yes, Freddie. Please display the translation. In English, please."
The translation appeared on the screen.
Not unto us, Lord, not unto us, but unto your Name give glory.
In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has redeemed our sins and given us dominion over all the earth, I, Alois Bouchard, Sergeant of the Temple of Solomon, attest that this is a true record, set down by my hand on this day, the 13th of October in the Year of Our Lord 1307.
Of the chests brought on board our ships, the number is two hundred and forty-three. Of gold coin, one hundred ninety-six; of silver coin and bars, four and twenty; of gemstones, uncut and polished, three and twenty.
We sailed with the tide on the evening past from La Rochelle after a skirmish with the king's men, in which two of our fellows were martyred. We rejoice that they now stand in the presence of God and His Angels, and are comforted by the knowledge that they served faithfully and have gained their heavenly reward. None of the soldiers sent by the treacherous Philip survived the encounter. May God curse him and his offspring forever.
Our destination is the Commandery at Tomar, where we will receive instructions for the continuation of our journey.
May God continue to watch over us and bless our effort to preserve his bounty from exploitation by the Deceiver's minions.
"Oh, boy," Stephanie said. "The Templar treasure."
"This is unbelievable," Selena said. "If it's real, it was written on the day King Philip arrested the leaders of the Templars and seized their possessions. It's an incredible piece of history."
Elizabeth said, "People have been looking for that treasure for centuries. It's probably worth billions."
"One of the reasons Philip went after the Templars was to get his hands on their gold," Selena said.
"Weren't they accused of being devil worshipers?"
"Yes. They were supposed to worship a statue of Baphomet and hold obscene orgies."
"Baphomet?" Stephanie asked.
"Baphomet is one of Satan's demons. His face forms the inverted pentagram symbol that devil worshipers use. The Templars were accused of kissing his ass."