The Revelation Code (Wilde/Chase 11)

by Andy McDermott

  ‘The Witnesses are preparing for a mission,’ Cross replied. ‘They flew out last night; I want them ready to move as soon as you find the location of the first angel.’

  ‘They’re the two witnesses?’ Nina asked, picking up on another Revelation reference.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That explains the outfits, then.’

  Cross nodded. ‘Chapter eleven, verse three – “And I will give power unto my two witnesses, and they shall prophesy a thousand two hundred and threescore days, clothed in sackcloth.”’

  ‘Must be itchy for them. Especially in this heat.’ Even early in the day, the temperature was already well over seventy degrees Fahrenheit.

  ‘They can endure it. They’ll endure anything to get the job done.’

  They went through to the control room. It had acquired a table and chairs since her previous visit. Cross’s imposing high-tech throne was at its head; he took his seat and gestured for Nina to join him. She sat at the opposite end, making a point of sliding her chair as far away from him as possible. The other man took up a somewhat intimidating position close behind her. ‘Now,’ said Cross, ‘the Synagogue of Satan, the Throne of Satan and the Place in the Wilderness. Do you know where they are?’

  ‘Not yet,’ she lied. ‘I might have some ideas – but I’m not doing anything until I see that Eddie’s okay.’

  The cult leader let out an irritated breath. ‘All right. You can see him.’ His hand went to one of the touch screens.

  ‘And talk to him.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t push me, Dr Wilde. My patience isn’t infinite.’

  ‘Mine’s hanging by a frickin’ thread. I want to talk to Eddie before I do anything else.’

  ‘You want to talk to him? All right.’ There was a nasty undertone that immediately put her on alert, but he tapped at the pad. The wall of screens lit up, showing the same elevated angle of Eddie as before. He was either asleep or unconscious, his arms and legs still secured. ‘There he is.’

  ‘Eddie!’ she called. ‘Eddie, are you okay? Eddie!’

  ‘He can’t hear you,’ Cross said. ‘I haven’t turned on the microphone yet.’

  ‘Then do that. You want me to cooperate, you want me to find your damn angels? Then let me talk to him.’

  He sneered, then ran his finger over a slider. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Eddie, can you hear me?’ she said.

  For a moment there was no response, then her husband raised his head. ‘Nina?’ he croaked.

  ‘Oh, thank God. Are you all right?’

  He tried to move, only to let out a sharp gasp. ‘Ow! No, my arms are fucking killing me. These bastards left me cuffed to this fucking chair all night.’ He rolled both shoulders, trying to ease the pain in his stiff muscles. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And the baby?’

  ‘Fine, it’s fine. They haven’t done anything to hurt me – yet.’

  ‘Wish I could say the same.’

  ‘Me too. But I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of there. They’re trying to find the angels in the Throne and Synagogue of Satan—’

  Cross stabbed at the pad again, cutting her off. Only one end of the link had been muted, though. ‘Nina?’ said Eddie with growing anger and alarm. ‘Nina, what’s happening?’

  ‘You’ve spoken to him,’ Cross said to Nina. ‘Now, this is what happens if you make another demand of me.’ Another swipe at the slider. ‘Mr Irton? Proceed.’

  ‘No!’ cried Nina, but he had already cut the mic. Irton stepped into frame, holding a couple of large, thick cloths.

  Eddie struggled uselessly against his bonds. ‘You get away from me, you fucking—’

  Irton punched him in the stomach, leaving him gasping. Two more men came into view. One went behind the chair, releasing a chain that was holding it to a metal ring on the floor, while Irton wrapped both cloths tightly around the Englishman’s head.

  Nina realised what they were about to do. ‘God, no!’ she cried, jumping to her feet, but the bodyguard pushed her roughly back down. ‘Don’t, please!’ She grabbed her notes and waved them at Cross. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ve found out!’

  His response was a look of cold dismissal. ‘I warned you, Dr Wilde.’ He worked the volume control again. ‘Do it.’

  The cloths were secured. Eddie jerked in the seat, straining to draw in air through the stifling material. The two other men hauled the chair and its occupant a foot off the floor, then tipped it until the back of Eddie’s head thumped against the concrete. Nina cringed, knowing that he was about to suffer even more – and that she was utterly helpless to prevent it.

  Irton had moved out of sight while his companions lifted the chair; he now returned holding a bucket of water, which he held over Eddie’s head . . .

  And started to pour.

  The water splashed on to the wrapped cloth. The weight of the sodden material pressed it down on to Eddie’s face, revealing its contours – and his mouth opening wide as water filled his nostrils. He tried to cry out, but all that emerged was a gargling moan as Irton kept pouring.

  Nina stood again, but was shoved back into her chair. ‘Stop it! Stop! Let him go!’ she screamed at Cross. ‘You bastard, you’re killing him!’

  ‘He’ll live,’ he replied. ‘British special forces, wasn’t he? He’ll have had SERE training; he can withstand being waterboarded. For a while, at least. Nobody can hold out for ever.’ He looked back at the screens, where Eddie was squirming as the water flowed over his head. ‘The CIA didn’t teach us these techniques so we could resist them. They taught them so we know how to use them.’

  She stared at him, appalled. ‘You’re insane.’

  ‘Insanity is seeing all the evils in this world and refusing to do anything to stop them. I’m going to stop them, Dr Wilde. And you’ll help me.’ His intense eyes locked on to hers. ‘Are we in agreement?’

  ‘Just stop hurting him,’ she said, defeated. ‘Please.’

  Cross was still for several seconds, then nodded. ‘That’s enough, Mr Irton. Bring him back up.’

  Irton retreated. His companions hauled their prisoner upright, one securing the chair back to the floor while the other peeled away the soaking fabric. Eddie retched, blowing water from his nose.

  ‘Mr Irton is an expert in enhanced interrogation techniques,’ Cross told Nina. ‘He can keep a man in a state where he thinks he’s about to die for days at a time, if he has to. But he won’t have to, will he?’

  Nina’s heart raced, fear and shock pumping through her. ‘No. He won’t.’

  ‘Good. That’ll be all for now, Mr Irton. I’ll contact you if you’re needed again.’

  Irton looked up at the camera. ‘We’ll be here, Prophet.’ He regarded his slumped captive. ‘So will he.’

  ‘So, Dr Wilde,’ said Cross. ‘Tell me what you’ve learned so far.’

  ‘Give me a minute. Please.’ She raised a shaking hand to her head, trying to calm herself. It wasn’t only Eddie she was worried about; high stress levels in a mother could cause tremendous harm to a developing baby.

  ‘Norvin, get her something to drink,’ Cross told the other man. The bodyguard went to a cabinet, returning with a bottle of water.

  Nina took it and gulped down its contents. She paused for breath, looking at the table rather than meet Cross’s gaze. Her notes were spread out before her. She took them in, her pulse slowing as her mind almost involuntarily resumed work on the challenge.

  One page in particular brought an answer. She looked back at the image of her husband, then engaged in a silent debate with herself as she weighed various factors: her safety, the baby’s health, Eddie’s life, the danger that Cross posed to all of them . . . and made a decision.

  ‘Okay. I think I’ve got an idea where one of the angels is,’ she announced. ‘That’s assuming you’re absolutely one hundred per cent convinced that the three places you gave me are where they’ve been hidden. You don’t want me to look at oth
er possibilities, just in case?’

  Cross clasped his hands together. ‘I’m sure. I’ve been studying Revelation for twelve years. I know those are the places God wants me to find. The clues all point to them; the emphasis given to them in the text, the repetition of their names, makes me absolutely certain.’

  ‘So I’m only looking for them, nowhere else?’

  ‘Nowhere else. What have you found?’

  Another glance at Eddie, still lolling in the chair. ‘If I help you, you won’t hurt him again?’

  ‘If you help me, I won’t need to.’

  Nina took a deep breath. ‘All right. I’ll do what you want.’

  With an expression of satisfaction, Cross shut off the screens. ‘Good. Talk.’

  She sorted through her papers. ‘Okay. I read Revelation last night. It’s not an easy read, especially since you only gave me the King James Version, but I came up with a possible link to the so-called Synagogue of Satan.’

  ‘You know where it is?’

  ‘I know where it might be. In Rome.’

  Cross didn’t seem surprised by her deduction. ‘That makes sense. There are several parts of Revelation that refer to Rome. The description of the Beast: “the seven heads are seven mountains” means the seven hills on which the city was built. The accepted’ – there was more than a hint of cynicism behind the word – ‘interpretation of Revelation is that John described Rome in riddles to hide that he was making a direct attack on the Romans who were persecuting the Christians.’

  ‘It’s not exactly the Enigma code, though,’ said Nina. ‘And the Romans weren’t dumb. They were always watching for signs of sedition or rebellion. One of the reasons John might have been exiled to Patmos in the first place was for being critical of Emperor Domitian, but if he’d been too critical, he would have been executed, not exiled. Saying that Rome was a whore and the emperor a demonic beast would have put him on the fast track to a crucifixion.’

  ‘Then the references to Rome in Revelation came from John’s visions of the Elders’ writings,’ said Cross thoughtfully. ‘They’re part of the code to finding the angels.’ He looked back at Nina. ‘So where in Rome?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet,’ she said. ‘But I think the mere fact that John made a direct association between a synagogue and Satan is significant.’ She flicked back through her notes, at the same time searching her knowledge of Roman and early Christian history. ‘Jewish Christians were a fairly major part of the Christian movement immediately following Jesus’s death, but it didn’t take long for them to be marginalised and later demonised – in John’s case literally, since he flat-out accused them of being in league with Satan – by the religion’s leadership. Both religions, actually; the Jewish leaders didn’t want them around any more than the orthodox Christians did. By the end of the first century, they’d demanded a clear split – you were either Christian or Jewish; you couldn’t be both.’

  ‘Understandable. You have to fully accept Christ and His teachings to be saved. There are no half-measures.’

  ‘But before then,’ she went on, not wanting to be dragged into a debate about the fate of her eternal soul, ‘around the time Domitian took power in AD 81, there was still a degree of crossover. The weird thing was that Rome was actually one of the safest places for Jewish Christians. Nero scapegoated Christians following the Great Fire of Rome, and from that point on they were widely persecuted by the Romans, but Jews were tolerated in the Empire. But at some point, the Christian leaders decided enough was enough, and they declared Jewish Christianity a false church. They risked coming into Rome itself to lay down the law about which version of Christianity they had to follow.’

  ‘The apostle Paul,’ said Cross, nodding. ‘He came to Rome after his third missionary journey. Acts chapter twenty-eight – he summons the chiefs of the Jews to try to convince them to follow Christ’s teachings. “Be it known therefore unto you that the salvation of God is sent unto the Gentiles, and that they will hear it. And when he had said these words, the Jews departed, and had great reasoning amongst themselves.” Verses twenty-eight and twenty-nine.’

  Nina raised a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘Have you memorised the entire Bible? Wait, don’t answer that. But yeah, Paul came to Rome – or was brought to Rome, since he was there to stand trial for his alleged crimes against the empire. And it didn’t go well for him, as he was executed.’

  ‘But he was there,’ Cross insisted. ‘And he spoke to the leaders of the Jews.’

  ‘Where did he speak to them? Does the Bible say anything?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘Yes. “And when they had appointed him a day, there came many to him into his lodging.” Acts chapter twenty-eight, verse twenty-three.’

  She was almost disappointed. ‘So they went to him. Damn. I’d thought that if Paul had wanted to speak to all the Jewish leaders, they would have chosen to meet him somewhere they had home advantage. A synagogue, in other words. They weren’t specifically buildings as they are now – the word just means a meeting place.’

  ‘The Synagogue of Satan,’ said Cross, nodding slowly – then suddenly widening his eyes. ‘No, wait! There was another meeting, before they came to Paul’s lodging. Verse seventeen: “And it came to pass, that after three days Paul called the chief of the Jews together, and when they were come together, he said unto them . . .” They did assemble somewhere.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘That’s what you have to find out. You’re the archaeologist.’ Ignoring her dirty look, he addressed Norvin. ‘Take her back to her room. If she needs anything, get it for her.’

  ‘How about a plane ticket out of here?’ Nina asked as she stood. She saw Cross’s unamused expression. ‘Jeez, you fundies have no sense of humour. I told you I’d find your angels.’

  ‘Just remember that your husband is counting on you,’ he said as Norvin escorted her to the door.

  Nina regarded the monitors behind Cross with a look as dark as the empty screens. ‘I hadn’t forgotten.’

  The laptop’s browser had several tabs open, Nina flicking between them as she scribbled down more notes. The blocks Cross had put in place were frustrating, as some of the primary sources of information she would normally have used were linked to the IHA or other United Nations agencies and were therefore verboten.

  The active tab was not displaying the website of any official organisation, however. It had taken some time to discover it: an obscure blog detailing the journeys of a Jewish traveller with an interest in her people’s history. One such trip had taken her to Rome, where she had been lucky enough to visit a site not generally accessible to the public . . .

  ‘That could be it,’ Nina whispered, scrolling through the traveller’s pictures. They didn’t contain the proof she was after, only an implication, a suggestion, but so far it was the best she had.

  She clicked another tab. A map appeared, a twisting network of tunnels. The scale revealed that they were confined within a relatively small area, only a few hundred metres along each edge, but the numerous tiers of underground passages meant that there were several miles of them. It would take some time to explore them all.

  Which was exactly what she had hoped.

  She collated her notes, and was about to stand when there came a timid knock at the door. ‘Saw me finish, did you?’ she asked the nearest camera as she crossed the room.

  Miriam was outside. ‘Dr Wilde?’

  ‘I’m guessing you’ve been sent to come and get me?’

  She nodded. ‘The Prophet wants to see you.’

  ‘I thought he might. Okay, let’s go.’

  They headed through the Mission, receiving greetings from residents along the way. The sun was high overhead; Nina could feel the heat prickling her scalp. Miriam noticed her discomfort. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘It’s too hot.’

  The young woman’s concern was genuine. ‘Oh! I’m sorry. You’ve got such pale skin, I should have thought . . . I could find you a hat?’

&nb
sp; Nina felt ironic amusement that a prisoner was being treated like a VIP guest. ‘That’s okay, I’ll survive.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Miriam repeated.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For not being able to get you everything you want.’

  Nina couldn’t help but warm to the young ingénue. ‘What I want is to get out of here.’

  ‘I know.’ Miriam gave her another look of sincere apology. ‘I’d help you if I could, but the Prophet needs you.’

  ‘Do you do everything the Prophet tells you?’

  ‘Of course. We’re his followers, he’s going to lead us to—’

  ‘To God’s new kingdom, heaven on earth; yeah, I know.’ Nina regarded her with sudden concern. ‘He doesn’t . . . take advantage of you, does he?’

  Miriam flapped her hands in dismay. ‘No, no! He doesn’t do anything like that! Nor do any of the men here. It’s written in the Book of Revelation. Chapter fourteen, verse four: “These are they who were not defiled with women.”’

  ‘No wonder they’re all so uptight,’ muttered Nina. ‘And “defiled”? John had some serious issues.’ She surveyed the village – and its inhabitants. ‘There aren’t any kids here, are there?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So this new Jerusalem Cross says he’s leading you to – what happens when you get there? “Be fruitful and multiply” was one of God’s commands all the way back in Genesis, but if nobody’s having children . . .’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Miriam admitted. ‘But the Prophet does. He’s following God’s plan, and when the time’s right, we’ll all be told what it is. It says so in Revelation.’

  Nina couldn’t recall reading anything that suggested that, but memorising every verse hadn’t been her priority. Dismissing it as another of Cross’s crackpot beliefs, she followed the younger woman up to the church. Cross was again waiting at the door, Norvin at his side. ‘Dr Wilde, welcome back,’ the cult leader said.

  ‘Thrilled to be here,’ she answered through a thin, sarcastic smile. ‘I think I’ve found what you wanted.’

  ‘I know. God is always watching here at the Mission.’