The Black Templar

by Alex Lukeman

  "That's ridiculous," Nick said.

  "That's Washington," Elizabeth said. "Clarence and I have enemies. The president is a political creature. As far as the White House is concerned, Valentina is a chip in the power game, someone he might use against Orlov in the future. If his enemies find out she's going on armed missions with us, it will create problems for him."

  "It's a little late to think about that, " Selena said. "She went to Croatia, didn't she?"

  "Croatia isn't Ireland. Ireland is Western Europe and Payne is a public figure. If Valentina is with you and something goes wrong over there, it will be a major incident."

  "It's not like we're going to carry IDs," Nick said. "No one would know who she was."

  "Now you're kidding yourself," Elizabeth said. "Do you think for one moment she wouldn't be identified? With the computer databases and facial recognition programs everyone has now? Once her prints and picture were plugged into the system, it would be all over. The media would discover who she was and have a field day."

  "I need her, Director. Lamont can't see straight. He can't go."

  "Wait a minute," Lamont said.

  "Cool it, Lamont. You know it's true."

  "Do I have to remind you that Valentina has three broken ribs?" Elizabeth said.

  "She's right Nick," Selena said. "Valentina is in no shape to go with you."

  "Looks like it's you and me, Kemo Sabe," Ronnie said.

  Valentina looked confused.

  "Wouldn't be the first time," Nick said.

  CHAPTER 40

  Ava Collins had missed the bus again. She'd stayed late after school, looking at the shops. Now she'd be late for supper and her mother would be mad at her. She began the long walk home from Ballyclare. The truth was she didn't mind so much, even though it was already dark.

  Late for dinner meant her father might already be passed out in the chair by the fire. Since he'd lost his job he'd taken to the bottle, hard. At thirteen years old Ava was becoming a woman, and her father had started to look at her in a way she didn't like. It made her feel creepy. Her mother had seen the way he looked at her and acted as though it was all her fault.

  It was another reason to dawdle on the way home. A gust of wind kicked up leaves around her feet. Ava drew her coat close about her. The road that went by her house was lightly traveled. Not many cars were on the road around this time of night.

  Nothing much ever happened in Ballyclare, but Ava knew she needed to be cautious walking alone like this. When a dark colored van pulled up next to her, she took a step back from the roadway. The window rolled down. The driver leaned out of the window and called to her.

  "Excuse me, Miss. Is this the way to the Green Road?"

  Automatically, she placed his accent.

  Somewhere down south. Dublin, maybe. Probably Catholic.

  The Troubles were supposed to be over, but the bitter history of hatred between Catholic and Protestant ran deep and long in the north of Ireland and in the County of Antrim where Ballyclare was located. All the girls knew Catholic boys couldn't be trusted. Not that you could trust the Protestants, either, when it came to boys. She'd been told many times that all they ever wanted was sex. Ava knew what sex was, though she didn't understand what all the fuss was about. It had all been explained in her biology class.

  "Miss? Is this the way?"

  "You're going the wrong way," Ava said. "You need to go back and turn right by the old mill."

  "Are you sure? This says I should go straight."

  He held up a map and put his finger on it.

  "See?"

  Ava moved closer to look at the map. She heard the back door of the van open and started to turn. Something stung her on the neck. Then everything went black.

  "Get her in, Sean," the driver said. "Quick."

  A moment later, a voice came from the back of the van.

  "She's in, out cold."

  "Tear off her blouse. Rip the buttons. Leave the bra. Rip off her undies."

  The driver took out a crucifix on a silver chain and broke the chain, then handed the pendant back to Sean.

  "Drop this near her clothes. Make sure everything's off the road, but not too far. We want them to find it when they come looking for her. Quick, Sean."

  "All right, Tommy, hold your water."

  Sean got out, went a little way from the road and tossed the clothing onto the ground. He dropped the cross into the grass nearby, scuffed the dirt around as if there had been a struggle, then got back in the van.

  Tommy put the van in gear and drove away.

  CHAPTER 41

  Payne had spent millions making the castle livable, installing the modern conveniences most people took for granted. The exception was the dungeon. Except for electric lights, it was much as it had been seven hundred years in the past.

  The dungeon was reached by a worn flight of steep, stone steps descending from the main floor. It was the kind of place that made you think of terrible things. Rusted shackles and chains hung from the walls, silent testament to long forgotten agonies. A furnace that had been used to heat instruments of torture to a red-hot glow stood against one wall. There were dark stains on the stone floor. At the back of the room was a large cell, formed from vertical iron bars set into the floor. Ava Collins lay unconscious on the floor of the cell.

  Payne and Dubois stood outside the bars, looking in at her. Her blouse was gone. Her shoes and coat were gone. Her skirt was hiked halfway up her thighs.

  "They better hadn't have tried anything with her," Payne said.

  "I gave them strict orders," Dubois said. "She hasn't been touched."

  "It's important. Her virginity must be intact for the sacrifice."

  Dubois felt a shudder of anticipation, tinged with a touch of fear.

  "Will he come?"

  "I have the book. He will come when we open the gateway, I'm certain of it. Have you contacted the others?"

  "All but two."

  "Make sure they understand no one will not be admitted after sundown on the day of the invocation."

  "Of course."

  "Instruct the guards to expect our visitors."

  "I have already done so. They think you're hosting a costume party."

  Payne broke into laughter, a sour sound with little humor in it.

  "Yes, a costume party. Perfect."

  "Once the sun sets, the guards have been told to leave the compound and set up a loose perimeter outside the walls," Dubois said. "They'll turn away any late arrivals or unwanted visitors."

  The girl in the cell moaned. Her eyes opened.

  "She's waking up," Payne said.

  "She'll be thirsty. The drugs do that to you."

  "Time enough to bring her some water. Let's see how she handles it."

  Ava sat up. She looked at them through the bars, confused.

  "Who... what... who are you? Where am I?"

  She looked down and covered her breasts with her arms.

  "Don't worry, my dear," Payne said. "You are perfectly safe. No one is going to harm you. Are you thirsty?"

  Avon got unsteadily to her feet and wrapped her hands around the rusted bars of her prison.

  "Let me out of here. Please."

  "I'm afraid I can't do that. Not yet."

  "LET ME OUT!"

  "No one can hear you shout down here," Payne said. "You'll only hurt yourself by yelling."

  "You fucking psycho, let me out!"

  Payne looked at Dubois.

  "Shocking, isn't it, the way young people talk these days."

  He turned back to the girl clutching the bars of her cell.

  "Now, now, that's not going to help. Behave yourself, and someone will bring you food and something to drink. If you need to use the bathroom, there's a bucket, there." Payne pointed at the corner of the cell. "I think we've seen enough, Alan, don't you?"

  The two men turned and started up the stairs.

  "Wait," Ava called. "Wait. Where are you going? Don't leave me here. I'
m cold."

  "Someone will bring food in a while," Dubois called. "If you're good, we'll give you a blanket and pillow. Don't cause any trouble."

  "Wait."

  The door to the room above slammed shut. The sound echoed through the stone chamber. Ava looked at the rusty shackles hanging on the walls and felt the first touch of real fear.

  Then the lights went out.

  Payne and Dubois ignored the cries echoing from below and went into the library. The book of al-Zalaam lay on a reading table near the windows, next to the gold box that had preserved it through the centuries. The cover was made of some kind of skin. It was marked with a red inverted pentagram.

  Dubois stayed a few steps back from the table. There was something about the book that made him uneasy. He didn't really know why. It was just an old book. All the same, he had no desire to look closely at it.

  Not that Payne would have let him.

  Payne had no qualms about getting near the book. He went to the table and picked it up in both hands. It felt warm to his touch. His eyes glittered.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" he said.

  "It's, uh, very attractive," Dubois said. "I don't think I've ever seen leather like that before. What animal did it come from?"

  "Not an animal, Alan."

  Payne watched Alan's expression change as the meaning sank in.

  "With this, my ancestors will be avenged. With this book, I will evoke the angel of the abyss. The sacrifice will bind him to my command. I will be renewed. Then the world will tremble."

  Dubois knew Payne wouldn't like what he was going to say.

  "What if it doesn't work?"

  "Have faith, Alan. How can you doubt that it will?"

  "I worry that if we succeed, you won't be able to control whatever comes through the portal."

  "The book tells me how to do that. I studied Arabic for years to prepare for this moment. My father died a bitter man because he'd never found what was ours. From the time I was a child, I knew I would be the one to recover the treasure and the book. It was foreordained. I will be the first to hold the ritual in seven hundred years. It is my destiny."

  "We have the treasure. Isn't it enough?"

  "Are you having second thoughts, Alan?"

  Payne's voice was quiet, laced with unspoken threat.

  "No, no, nothing like that."

  "Good. You have an important part to play in the ceremony. The sacrifice must take place at the right moment to establish control. You will be the knife bearer. You must present the blade to me when I signal for it."

  Dubois hid his fear.

  "I'm honored, Geoffrey."

  "As you should be," Payne said.

  CHAPTER 42

  Winter in Moscow was always brutal, but this year the cold felt worse than usual. Maxim Kerensky looked out the window of his office on the fourth floor of SVR headquarters at the thick snow falling outside and thought of how the Russian winter had ravaged the great armies of Napoleon and Hitler. Only someone born in Russia could understand how winter shaped the heart and soul of her people.

  Kerensky's musings were interrupted by a call on the line from President Orlov's office. Since the disastrous attempt in Croatia to kidnap Colonel Antipova, there had been only silence from the Kremlin.

  Shit, Kerensky thought.

  He picked up the phone.

  "Kerensky."

  "Hold for the president."

  Orlov came online.

  "General, I have a task for you."

  "Yes, Mister President."

  "I am going to give you a chance to redeem your failure in Croatia. One chance. Understand?"

  Kerensky felt sweat start on his forehead.

  "Yes, Mister President. I understand."

  "I no longer wish to bring Colonel Antipova home to account for her treason. I have decided to eliminate her. Take care of it for me."

  "Mister President, she is in America."

  As soon as he said it, Kerensky realized he should have kept his mouth shut.

  "Is that a problem, General?"

  Orlov's voice was calm with menace.

  "No, sir, not at all. I only meant..."

  "I know what you meant, General. It's not important where she is, in America or anywhere else. I want her removed. Permanently. If you don't feel you can accomplish this directive, I can find someone who will."

  "It will be done as you order, Mister President."

  "Excellent. Don't take too long about it, General."

  Orlov disconnected.

  Fuck, Kerensky thought.

  Kerensky didn't have the intuitive genius of his predecessor, General Vysotsky. He'd survived the cutthroat politics of the old KGB and the new Russia by recognizing where the power lay and making sure he was indispensable in carrying out the orders of those who had it. Now that he'd reached his present position, Orlov was the only person he had to satisfy. When you sat at the table of the king it was best to let him tell you what to eat, if you wanted to keep eating at all.

  One chance, Orlov had said. Kerensky had no doubt he'd meant it.

  He considered the problem of Antipova. JUPITER had confirmed she'd survived the confrontation in Croatia, along with the information that she'd been injured and was still at the same address in Washington where the earlier attempt to kidnap her had failed. Kerensky thought that was a mistake. It spoke of overconfidence.

  It would be easier this time. Kidnapping required several people, vehicles, and perfect timing, not to mention luck. Assassination, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. It was much easier to pull off and an excellent solution for difficult problems.

  There was only one logical choice for the job. He'd send Kiril Anasenko.

  There was a certain irony in sending Anasenko after Antipova. They'd trained under the same teachers and had been rivals in the competitive world of SVR. There were rumors that at one time they'd been lovers, or at least had used each other to release their sexual urges without compromising their unique occupations. Kerensky was sure love had very little to do with any relationship between them. He doubted Anasenko was capable of the emotion. He had no personal experience of Antipova, but assumed she was the same.

  Anasenko was back in Moscow, returned from his successful assignment terminating Morozov and Vetrov in America. Kerensky punched a button on his intercom.

  "Yes, General."

  "Find Major Anasenko and send him to my office."

  "At once, sir."

  Kerensky leaned back in his chair. Anasenko was the best way to handle Orlov's vendetta.

  CHAPTER 43

  DCI Hood was on the phone with Elizabeth.

  "I'm convinced there's a mole in the agency."

  "I've had the same thought," Elizabeth said.

  "I've suspected something for a while. Too many things have gone wrong in the last few months."

  "What persuaded you?"

  "The murder of the two Russians who survived the attack on Antipova. It might've been possible to track down the one who was in the hospital, but the other was squirreled away in a safe house. How did the assassin find out where he was? That's a red flag. Several operations have been blown in the last year. I went looking for a pattern and discovered that things began going bad about three years ago. A mole is the only possible explanation. The failure rate is too high to be a result of bad planning or bad luck."

  "I wonder how he got past all the security measures you have over there?"

  "It happens, no matter what we do to prevent it. No one's intelligence services are immune. Not China, not Russia, not us."

  "Have you talked with Lucas? What does he say about it?"

  Lucas Monroe was the Director of National Clandestine Services and Stephanie's husband.

  "He agrees."

  "Stephanie hasn't mentioned this."

  "I'm glad to hear it," Hood said. "I know she talks with Lucas about work and Stephanie has high clearance, but some things need to be kept in-house."

 
"What are you going to do?"

  "The damage that's been done is irreparable. I can't do anything about that, but I can damn well make sure it doesn't happen in the future. Lucas and I have started looking for the traitor. So far it's only the two of us. Internal investigations are demoralizing. They affect the agency's ability to do its job."

  "I'm really sorry to hear this, Clarence."

  "What happened in Croatia means the mole is working for the Russians. How else could those troops have known you'd be there?"

  "I thought perhaps there'd been a leak through the people who got us involved in the first place."

  "You mean Dubois and the man he works for, Payne?"

  "Yes."

  "The only problem with that explanation is that the Russians were after Colonel Antipova, not the treasure you were looking for. How did they discover where she was? That had to come from an agency source. No one else knew about it."

  "The thought had occurred to me, but I didn't want to bring it up without evidence. Suspicion isn't proof."

  "No, it's not. But my intuition tells me the proof is there if I can find it."

  "How are you going to smoke the mole out?"

  "I'm going to set up a false flag operation. I thought I'd let word get out about something the Russians won't like and use it to shake the tree, then wait to see what falls out."

  "It's a good idea. What did you have in mind?"

  "I haven't worked out the details yet. Lucas and I will put our heads together. I'll let you know what we come up with."

  After the conversation ended, Elizabeth thought about how things were going between her and Clarence. Most of the time when they were together they ended up talking about work. She supposed that was natural, since neither of them could talk about what they did with outsiders, but it wasn't very romantic. It felt like things were cooling off between them, after a fairly intense few months.

  She wasn't sure if it was her fault or his, but maybe it was a good thing. Maybe they both needed to step back a little.

  She turned her thoughts to Ireland. She wasn't happy about the mission. Payne's castle wasn't exactly a soft target, and she only had Nick and Ronnie to send against it.