by Seeley James
Jenny and I drove to the resort in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
Jenny followed two paces behind me when I stormed through the lobby. She had been nice enough to say nothing through the entire ordeal with the authorities. While stomping down the hallway to Peng’s suite, it dawned on me why she was so quiet. I stopped in my tracks. She stopped an arm’s length behind me.
I faced her. She kept her head down.
I didn’t know where to start. I decided to blurt out what was on my mind.
“You were right,” I said. “There was something wrong with Danny wanting to kill Mr. Baldy. That kind of thinking fits my line of work, not the Brotherhood of Claritas. He was trying to avoid suspicion and tried too hard. I should’ve listened to you. You’re right, you are my balance.”
She fidgeted, her fingers writhing like snakes. “It’s OK. It was just a feeling. I didn’t have any logic behind it. No one suspected them. You did what you thought—”
“What I think isn’t always right,” I said. “I should’ve seen it. In Chicago, he wasn’t looking for Cherry, he wanted Griffith. I thought he meant to take the man down, but it was to switch sides. Before we left El Remate, Fiona told him to be on the winning side. When they got caught in Chicago, the first time, they were making contact and offering themselves up. That’s why Griffith had so many men on duty later that night. Then, during their ‘attack’ on the property, Mark got beat up but not Danny. And Danny was taken from the room where you were held for a quick consultation. Later, when we rescued the others, Fiona was being released from the coffin, not being shoved in it like I thought at the time. And Danny knew about Carlotta. Only Mr. Baldy would’ve known about her because he knew Hidalgo’s team was short one benefactor. He told Danny. I should’ve seen it. After Chicago, nothing he did fit with Gu Peng’s whole light and clarity thing.”
“I didn’t see it either,” she said. “I’m also having second thoughts about helping Peng. I think you were right to begin with. This isn’t our fight.”
“Wait … you were so gung-ho about freeing China.”
“Freedom must be won, not given.” She met my gaze. “I think that’s why all those civilizations died out. The change was forced on them. No one fought for it. The people weren’t invested in the change.”
Certainly a good point. One I hadn’t considered.
“We can deal with that tomorrow,” I said. “Just one more thing: you were right about the yin-yang thing. Sometimes an orderly guy needs a little chaos. Or a chaotic guy needs some order. However that works, we make a good team. Your dad’s an idiot for undervaluing you. I don’t want to make that mistake ever again. Next time I’m not hearing you, tug my ear.”
Her gaze swept the carpet. She nodded.
I lifted her chin with my knuckle. She had tears in her eyes. I gave her a hug.
Rafael and Cherry slowed as they approached from the lobby. Jenny and I were hogging the hall space. We broke our embrace.
“We intend to pay our respects to Ms. Gu,” Rafael said. “Would you be good enough to join us?”
We turned in unison, falling into pairs by gender. Rafael and I in the lead. It felt odd to pair off after realizing how partnership really works, but Rafael had a way of steering things. I sensed a purpose in his movement.
“We tend to see tragedy from our perspective and not others,” he said. “Before you level accusations against Peng, have you considered how painful it must be for her?”
I hadn’t considered her at all. I intended to storm in and ask questions about how the people she chose compromised my operation. I intended to blame her for blowing my chance to kill Mr. Baldy. Rafael’s point was well taken. Those weren’t nice topics for a wake. I stopped just outside her door. Rafael smiled, patted my shoulder, and went around me.
Jenny had been chatting with Cherry but understood what needed to happen next. She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “I hope you and Pavard find the other end of that tunnel.”
She followed Cherry inside. The remaining Brotherhood stood shoulder-to-shoulder in mute grief beyond the foyer.
It was a good division of labor. She did compassion. I took down killers.
Since I’d failed to get through the tunnel on the Austrian side, I still didn’t know where it came out. I’d asked Pavard to help me find the German end.
I turned around and walked out to the entrance and caught a cab to the cogwheel train.
I arrived ten minutes before Major Pavard agreed to meet me, so I wandered the shops near the station. An art gallery featured a large sculpture next to its front door. I’d noticed it on my first sweep of the area, but it didn’t register that it was a Gu Peng original. A mother and child read a book on a loveseat. Everything was carved from a single block of polished sandstone except two throw pillows, one black obsidian and one white marble. The black one looked like a replica of the Freedom Stone except that it lacked the gold flakes embedded in the glass-like rock.
I picked it up and noticed gold flakes had been embedded in the pillow’s back. As if Gu Peng had created a fake. Then I wondered if it was the real thing. I’d never seen it up close.
Mercury stood at my shoulder. You know how you can tell it’s fake, homes? You’re still talking to me. See now, if it was going to change you, it would’ve done that already. If it were real, you’d be singing the praises of Jesus Christ or Quantum Mechanics or Buddha or some such nonsense right now.
I said, It weighs the same. It looks the same on one side. She planted this here?
Mercury said, You saw it this morning, dude. It’s like she’s expecting you to find it.
I said, Do the gods ever say anything straight out? Does everything have to be a riddle?
Mercury said, When I landed your car upside down on a tree stump—after you promised to tell Jenny about me—was that a riddle? When I told you to grab Danny and dance a step to the left, was that a riddle? I swear, damn ingrate mortals are going to be the death of me. I’m outta here.
He disappeared in a blink.
OK, that was wrong of me. I should’ve asked nicely if I was supposed to take it.
“Are you Jacob?” a woman asked from the doorway of the gallery.
“Yes.” I gently placed the black stone back where I’d found it.
“A messenger told me you would stop by to take that.” She pointed at the rock.
“Messenger?” I asked. Sometimes the gods work in freaky and mysterious ways. “Ah. Yes. OK. Thanks.”
I put the stone in my pack and headed for the last cogwheel going up the mountain.
Pavard waited for me on the platform. We got on and I explained a simplified version of my story. I left out any reference to a magical Poison Stone and the competing Knights and Brothers. I explained it was as much a hunch as when I charged into a Paris cathedral and took out two terrorists. He was patient. He listened well. He nodded.
He clearly wanted to go back to his room and go to sleep. Maybe he felt guilty after Paris when he had issued what amounted to a shoot-to-kill order for me only to have it all blow back in his face. Probably not, though. He wasn’t the kind of guy who regretted anything. But he was being nice, and that I appreciated.
He got out his phone and called the head of the German BND operation, Luca Brandt. While Pavard begged favors on behalf of a guy who had nothing more than a tin-foil-hat conspiracy theory, I stared out the window. The cogwheel churned up the steep slope, its lights showing nothing but the dark gray limestone. Here and there were small caves formed in the layers of karst sandwiched between the harder layers of the mountain rock. The tunnel engineers used the niches for maintenance and tools. Flashes of yellow tape flew by. All had been taped off for the G20 meeting by inspectors.
We arrived at the Gletscherbahnhof—glacier train station—and were met by Luca Brandt in person. He was less-than-enthusiastic.
Brandt showed me an official BND personnel file for one Artur Titow, a naturalized Turkmen immigrant who’d gone to
boarding school in the EU and university at Heidelberg. He’d been with the BND three years and had been recommended for promotion. Titow was the man I’d seen twice before. He looked as much like Stalin in his official records as he did in real life. He was assigned to the passengers. I asked if there were any other Turkmen in the BND.
Brandt clicked off his tablet and nearly called me a racist in German. He meant well. He was looking out for one of his men. Anyone in command knows with the utmost certainty that none of his men are double agents.
He gave us a tour of the building. He reminded me the crossing from the Gletscherbahnhof to the Schneefernerhaus—the environmental science station—would be by snowcat. He pointed to everything along the way, including the places where holes had been drilled in the glacier for ground-penetrating sonar. Standard procedure. There was nothing but rock beneath us for twenty feet. And that meant Mr. Baldy’s tunnel didn’t surface anywhere near the meetings. In Schneefernerhaus everything was clean and taped shut. I couldn’t have done a better job myself.
I praised Luca Brandt and the BND. Highly. And I meant it. They hadn’t left anything to chance.
Pavard and I made our way to the train platform in silence. He wasn’t taking me home as much as I was retreating. Nothing showed up. The only thing churning through my mind was: How the hell is Mr. Baldy going to get the Stone through security? He had a tunnel, but where did it connect? We’d scoured the place. No tunnels in any of the buildings.
I needed another look at the venue. I needed to get back in there. I could ask Ms. Sabel to put me on her security team and I’d waltz right in. She’d do it in a heartbeat, but Jenny and I were trying to get free of our old lives. I could ask Brandt, but he was German. They don’t break rules. Which left one option.
Pavard and I left on the last train back down the hill. When we pulled into the station at the bottom, we faced each other to say goodnight.
I held up a hand to pause the usual pleasantries and said, “Could you get me access tomorrow? Could I get in as one of your team? Please.”
Pavard’s face contorted in the dim light of the streetlight. His mouth began to form the French version of no fucking way when he stopped. He tapped his index finger to his lips, looked at the ground, then up at me. “Perhaps. If you could do me the favor in return.”
I said, “Anything for you, Major Pavard.”
I fully expected him to say, Never call me again.
He looked away, slightly embarrassed. “Two weeks it is my anniversary. My wife is very much the fan of Jacob Stearne. Would you be willing—”
“I’d be honored to be there, Pavard.” I clapped his shoulder. “Absolutely.”
A smile grew across his face. He beamed. “Excellent! I have your credentials at your hotel by morning. Thank you, Jacob.”
We shook hands and parted ways.
When I turned to stride up the lane, Mercury stood in my path. You serious? You’re going to kiss some old French lady on the cheek but you can’t be bothered to tell Jenny about me? Did I miss something here? Did Pavard save your ass on the side of a cliff four hours ago? Did Pavard save—
I said, Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind this weekend. As soon as this is over, I’ll sit down with her and tell her all about us. I swear.
Mercury walked away, kicking over flowerpots and sandwich boards. Fucking mortals. Cannot believe I spend one second talking to you. What good are you? Shoulda let Zafar take you out.
I went back to the hotel and crawled into bed. Jenny was already asleep. I dreamed about the train going through the mountain tunnel. I dreamed about Jenny. And the train. And the tunnel.
At 2:12 AM I sat bolt upright.
I knew where the tunnel came out. More or less. And that told me how they planned to get the Stone through security.
CHAPTER 51
Rafael Tum found Gu Peng sitting alone in a sunny corner of the lonely restaurant. A shaft of early morning light brushed her shoulder. She was dressed in a staid black dress, making him glad to have chosen a dark sport coat. He stepped up and silently gestured to the empty chair in front of her. She stared back blankly for a long, uncomfortable time.
“Misery unique to person,” she said before nodding at the chair. “Forgive my manner.”
Rafael slid in quietly and said nothing. He unfolded the napkin, put it in his lap, then folded his hands on it, sitting upright and still.
She turned her gaze to the massive picture windows framing the Bavarian Alps.
“You had many loss?” she asked without looking at him.
He nodded. “And betrayals.”
She nodded for him to continue before taking her tea.
A waitress approached. Rafael ordered coffee and a fruit bowl. She left. He said, “The betrayals are always a shock to the system. Especially the ones above suspicion.”
“Shock, yes.” She set her teacup down and turned back to the window. Zugspitze loomed above them. To the north and west, a bank of black clouds moved slowly, relentlessly toward them. She muttered, “Above suspicion.”
“The Brothers are not here this morning?” he asked.
“I send home. Pia very generous, very gracious. No need for them here now. Jacob Stearne say, ‘Mission scrub.’ Pia say she know a way. I say not for Brotherhood. Not for Gu Peng. Too much danger. All around, too many people above suspicion.”
Rafael nodded. He knew the weight on her shoulders. For leaders, the loss of one soldier sometimes weighed heavier than a thousand. “Once, I lost a trusted aide. I lashed out at anyone and everyone around me. My darkest moment in life. My soul burned.”
“It should.”
He looked up to find her glaring at him. He leaned back just as the waitress returned with his coffee. The young lady sensed tension between them, set it down, and scurried away.
“You find Pia Sabel difficult to trust?” he asked.
“All rich people come from same village, have same interest.”
“You suspect her of working with the Knights of Mithras?”
“Not her. She different.” Peng sipped and thought. “Not too much different. After all, she meet Joe Griffith last night.”
Rafael tilted his head and opened his palm, inviting her to speak more.
Peng picked up her tea, held it a moment, sipped, then looked out the window with a pensive gaze.
He considered probing deeper into her statement but decided to let her grief work its way out. It was nothing personal. Pain had a way of making the nicest people cold and prickly. He sipped his coffee and joined her in admiring the view.
His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. With a surreptitious glance at the screen, he saw Griffith calling. He sent it to voice mail.
“I wonder why Pia would meet Mr. Griffith?” he asked quietly.
“Find out what kind deal you make with him.” Peng’s gaze swung back to cut through him.
He flinched. His phone rang again. He sent it to voice mail without looking. He couldn’t glance away from Peng at this point. He asked, “Why does she think—”
“Above suspicion. Your soul burn, Rafael Tum. Cherry not know where we go for coffee. Pia not know where we go for coffee. But Knight of Mithras know. Pia follow Knight. Good thing too.” With a hot and angry glare that drove through his heart, she yanked the napkin off her lap and slapped it on the table, rattling the silver. She rose with her walking stick and pounded away.
He let out a slow breath.
The waitress brought his bowl of fruit, gave him an empathetic smile, and turned away. He stared at the dish.
His phone rang again. He dragged it to his ear. “Yes?”
“Rafael, is that you?” Joe Griffith sounded out of breath.
“Yes.” His voice felt distant and estranged.
“Our deal is not finished. I need you to—”
“I’m done.” Rafael closed his eyes and saw Gu Peng’s hateful gaze piercing through him again. “No more.”
“Oh no you don’t. The ICC has not ruled
and will not rule until I give them the go-ahead.”
“I don’t care about the ICC.” Rafael felt his chest close as if a horse lay on it. “I will not do anything more for you.”
“You say you don’t care,” Griffith said. “Your old Eton roommate is dying. He has days to live. And he’s the only reason you walk free today.”
It took him a minute to evaluate Griffith’s tone of voice. Was it another manipulation or was it a statement of fact? He decided it had to be both, given the source. “Indeed? That is quite sad. I’m sure the Knights will sorely miss the Protector’s leadership.”
“He’s named me as the next Protector.”
Rafael tried not to gasp. “Congratulations, Joe. That is why you left the Keepers in the first place, is it not? I am delighted you have reached your goal.”
“You’re not delighted,” Griffith snarled. “Don’t give me that upper-crust bullshit. The ICC business is up to me now. As you well know, my threats are not idle. You’ll do as I say, or the Germans will round you up before lunch.”
CHAPTER 52
I clicked off the phone and looked at Jenny across the hotel room. “Pavard could get only one set of credentials. Sorry.”
“You didn’t ask him for two, did you?”
I couldn’t lie to her, but I couldn’t have her going along either. At some point, if all went well, Mr. Baldy and I were going to face off over iron sights. There’s no way I could let her near the line of fire. I said, “It never occurred to me.”
Her face contorted in a way that I could read like a book. She contemplated calling Pia Sabel for a favor. We needed her help. At the same time, we didn’t want too much help. She understood why I decided to ask Pavard instead of Ms. Sabel. The fact that I’d only asked for one made her angry.
Jenny stuck out her jaw and glared. “I don’t need you to protect me, you know.”
“No. But I need to protect you. It’s my yang thing.” I slung my jacket over my shoulder and opened the door. “Or whatever.”
Mercury walked down the hall with me. Dude, you don’t mind brining Pia-Caesar-Sabel to a gunfight.