Alexa looked at Carrington. ‘Ask Fawkes to set a course for London.’
Chapter Eighteen
Rain was falling in gray ribbons across the darkening sky when they landed at Heathrow Airport an hour later. Carrington opened the Gulfstream’s cabin door and was doused with a shower of drops carried by the cold wind coursing across the tarmac.
Lights flashed in the gloom ahead. A black Mercedes SUV splashed through puddles and rolled to a stop a few feet from the aircraft. A familiar, suited figure climbed out from behind the steering wheel.
Alexa grew still as she studied the man by the vehicle. ‘What’s he doing here?’
Carrington shrugged. ‘He was in London on Crovir business and asked Reznak whether he could tag along. The boss thought it might be a good idea.’
Frank Schmidt, the Crovir Hunter she had delivered Abraham McIntyre to six days ago in Las Vegas, watched with an unreadable expression while they strolled down the steps toward him. ‘Alexa,’ he said with a brief nod. His eyes shifted beyond her shoulder. ‘And these would be?’
Jackson straightened. ‘Zachary Jackson,’ he said carefully. Schmidt was a couple of inches taller and heavier in the shoulders than the Harvard professor.
Alexa watched the two men exchange wary stares.
‘And the monk?’ said the Crovir Hunter, his gaze moving to the robed Asian man.
‘My name is Yonten, oh great warrior,’ said the monk. He bowed formally.
‘Is he kidding?’ Schmidt said dully.
‘Just be grateful he greeted you,’ said Carrington. ‘All Reznak got was “Mr. Crovir”.’
‘Does that mean they—’ Schmidt started.
‘Know about the existence of immortals?’ Jackson interrupted. ‘Yes. We do.’
Schmidt stared at him stonily for a moment before climbing behind the wheel of the SUV. The whine of the Gulfstream’s engines rose behind them as they followed him inside the vehicle; Fawkes was leaving on another assignment for Reznak.
Her godfather had insisted Carrington accompany them this time around. Alexa suspected he had agreed to Schmidt’s request for similar reasons. Reznak was being overly cautious.
‘Is something wrong?’ asked Schmidt as he headed toward the M4 motorway. He glanced at her guardedly. ‘You look like you’re gonna kill someone.’
She unclenched her teeth and forced her facial muscles to relax. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said.
Despite the heavy traffic clogging the arteries of the city, they made it to the outskirts of London in record time. Only Yonten’s giggles and the occasional sharp intake of breath from Jackson punctuated Schmidt’s wilder driving antics.
Night was descending on the capital when they drove past Hyde Park. A flurry of snow fell from the sky and melted almost instantly under the feet of the crowds swarming Trafalgar Square. Minutes later, they took a left off Kingsway and drove down a one-way road.
The Crovir Hunter continued past the art deco façade of the Freemasons’ Hall and parked the SUV on a side street around the corner. He turned the engine off. ‘So, what’re we doing here?’ he asked.
Alexa reached into the bag by her feet and removed the slim hardback case that held her field computer. She brought up the floor plans sent by the Crovir techs during the flight to London.
‘These are the blueprints of the Hall,’ she said briskly. ‘Besides the main doors, there are several side entrances to the building. They’re all reasonably well guarded, and there are CCTV cameras covering pretty much every square foot of the complex.’
Schmidt went still. ‘We’re breaking into the place?’
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘Those cameras can easily be disabled,’ said Carrington from the rear seat.
‘Yes, they can,’ said Alexa. A faint frown marred her brow. ‘We could storm this place with a squad of Hunters if we wanted to, but not without causing a major scene.’ She scrolled through the plans and images on the screen. ‘Underground access is possible but would take hours, require heavy drilling equipment, and be too noisy. Our best bet is the roof. We can get to it from here.’ She tapped a shot of a building at the rear of the Freemasons’ Hall.
‘What are we looking for when we get inside?’ said Schmidt.
‘We want access to their private archives and collections,’ said Jackson. ‘We suspected they might be in the Library, but then—’
‘We found this,’ interrupted Alexa. She brought up a three-dimensional, infrared image of the Hall and zoomed in on a section of the frame.
Twenty-three thousand miles above the Earth, a network of private satellites owned by the Crovirs orbited the planet and contributed vast amounts of information to the databases held by the immortal race. They had been updated with the latest in ground-penetrating radar technology several years ago and had provided clear, in-depth pictures of the Freemasons’ building.
Thirty feet below the Lodge and directly underneath their Grand Temple was a small circular chamber that did not feature anywhere on the original blueprints. The array of heat signals around the enclosed space indicated the presence of an elaborate security system. The walls were three feet thick and made of concrete. It was almost certainly a vault.
‘Our techs can override the cameras in the Hall as well as any alarms they may have on our signal,’ said Alexa. ‘That should buy us time to make it to that room.’
‘Can they disable the security network in the chamber?’ queried Jackson, indicating the frozen image on the computer screen.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘The alarm system for the vault is on a separate internal framework. It’ll be up to us to figure out how to get inside when we reach it.’
‘And the guards we might come across?’ said Schmidt carefully as he studied the multiple heat signals that dotted the interior of the building. Each one corresponded to a living body.
As Jackson had anticipated, there were a lot of sentries patrolling the Hall.
Alexa gazed steadily at the Crovir Hunter. ‘This is a strict no-kill assignment.’ Her eyes narrowed slightly at the expression that flashed in his gaze.
‘Yeah,’ said Jackson in a hard tone. ‘We don’t want the slaughter of innocent humans.’
Yonten shook his head solemnly.
Carrington sighed. ‘Seriously, Reznak and you take all the fun out of our missions.’
Alexa left the hardback case on the floor of the SUV, grabbed her backpack, and followed the men out of the vehicle. They stuck to the shadows as they headed toward the Freemasons’ Hall. A narrow alley off a side road brought them to the goods entrance of the building that abutted the rear of the headquarters of the Grand Lodge.
She slid the blade of a sai inside the gap where the two doors met and jimmied the lock. The metal panel opened with a loud groan. They slipped into the darkness inside just as a couple of women strolled down the passageway toward them, voices raised in conversation.
Schmidt took a pen torch out of his suit jacket and flicked the bright beam across an empty, tiled corridor. The place was as silent as a tomb. They moved quietly into the gloom and went in search of the service stairs. Moments after they entered the building, they walked out onto a rooftop terrace.
After the stillness of the last minute, the sounds of the city hit them like a wall. An icy wind ruffled Alexa’s hair and brought a small burst of snowflakes that melted rapidly on her face. She strolled to the west end of the terrace and studied the drop before her. She removed a small grappling hook attached to a sturdy, nylon rope from her backpack, secured the iron claws to the low parapet, grasped the rope, and stepped off the edge of the building.
Seconds later, her feet touched down on the roof of the Freemasons’ Hall. The four men followed swiftly.
Soft light shone through skylights and stained glass ceilings, cast
ing their shadows briefly on the rooftop as they ran over the canted surface toward the outline of the Grand Temple. An access door soon appeared in the gloom. They stopped outside it.
Carrington took his cell out and made a call. ‘We’re good to go,’ he said once the Crovir techs acknowledged his caller ID. He listened briefly before disconnecting. ‘Their security system will be offline in five seconds.’
Schmidt picked the lock on the door. Alexa glimpsed Yonten’s small, enigmatic smile while she watched the Hunter work.
‘I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this,’ murmured Jackson when Schmidt pulled the door open moments later.
‘Everything will be all right, Mr. Harvard,’ said Yonten brightly. The monk stepped past them and followed the Crovir Hunter through the opening.
Carrington stared at Yonten’s back. ‘How the hell can he know that?’ he muttered.
A flight of narrow steps lay on the other side of the door. They proceeded down it in single file. A dim glow appeared around a corner after fifteen feet, and soon they came to a brightly lit landing.
Alexa took the lead and turned left down a marble passage. Glossy cherry wood paneling glistened softly in the light cast by ornate chandeliers and wall lamps. They reached the balustrade of a majestic double staircase.
The overcast night sky was visible through a beautiful mosaic glass ceiling some twenty feet above their heads. Beneath a series of tall arches, paintings of Freemasons past sat in elaborate frames lining pale walls on either side of the two stairs. The polished wood of the brown railing and cream balusters glittered under the muted lighting that bathed the stately space.
‘Pretty,’ commented Carrington.
Hushed conversation and the sound of quiet footsteps suddenly rose from their left. They took the stairs to the landing below and flattened themselves against the walls underneath. The footfall paused briefly above them before continuing along the corridor. The voices of the two sentries faded in the distance.
A soundless sigh of relief escaped Jackson’s lips and prickled the skin on the back of Alexa’s neck. She ignored the disquieting sensation and headed down the next flight of steps toward the ground floor. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around.
Chandeliers cast a soft glow on the beautifully adorned ceiling, marble walls, and gleaming tiled flooring of a wide hallway that branched off on either side.
‘We must be at the back of the Grand Temple,’ whispered Jackson.
Alexa turned right and headed soundlessly toward a recessed portal a dozen feet away. She glanced dismissively at the surveillance camera above it, twisted the heavy handle of the door, and stepped across the threshold. A curtained vestibule lay beyond. She crossed it briskly and stopped just inside the cavernous chamber of the Grand Temple.
An immense and elaborate mosaic coving framed a dark blue ceiling some sixty feet above her head. The bright sun disc at its center was surrounded by a speckling of stars and moons that shone brightly on the inky background. Masonic figures and symbols spanned the molded cornices, with the four cardinal virtues of Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance dominating the corners.
A pedestal on the left held a tall, gold-colored ceremonial chair and pulpit mounted on an ornate frame with four pillars. It was flanked by another pair of smaller chairs and ringed on either side by rows of seats that rose in tiers toward an organ loft at the back of the chamber, where an altar-like table sat between a pair of gilded columns.
A second pedestal holding another ceremonial chair stood at the opposite end of the temple. Beyond it was a pair of twelve-foot tall, heavy-looking, sculpted bronze doors. A third ornamental chair occupied the edge of a checkerboard floor that ran down the middle of the chamber. Banks of seats lined the enormous spaces on the sides, with galleries supporting further tiers above the ground floor.
The coat of arms of the United Grand Lodge, with its border of lions and the Latin motto ‘Avdi Vide Tace’ emblazoned in gold on a blue background, punctuated the vast assembly room of the Freemasons.
‘“Hear, See, Be Silent”,’ translated Carrington as he studied the closest blazon. He looked around the Grand Temple. ‘Nice digs they’ve got here.’
Jackson rolled his eyes.
Alexa’s gaze shifted to the head of the room. She strode to the gilded mount holding the chair and pulpit, and scrutinized the structure. According to the satellite images, it concealed the access to the underground chamber.
They carefully examined the protrusions and crevices of the ornate design for several minutes. The monk finally stood back and studied the frame with an absorbed expression. Moments later, he lifted the jō staff and gently touched a knot below a small cherub at the corner of the support.
A low, grinding noise rose from the gilded mount. They took several steps back as the ceremonial chair and pulpit moved forward four feet and revealed a square opening in the floor. A flight of steps dropped down into darkness.
‘Well done,’ said Schmidt quietly. ‘How did you figure it out?’
Yonten smiled and pointed at the statue of the angel.
‘“Hear, See, Be Silent”,’ said Jackson slowly. The cherub’s eyes were wide open and its hands covered its mouth. Admiration glinted in his eyes as he turned to look at the monk.
A soft click broke the silence of the room. Alexa’s finger moved off the decocking lever of the Sig she was aiming at Schmidt’s left temple. The Crovir Hunter went still, his fingers frozen on the Beretta Storm pistol that had appeared in his hand.
‘Hey—’ said Carrington with a frown. He took a step forward.
‘Who are you working for?’ Alexa interrupted harshly, her gaze not shifting from the Hunter’s grim face. Schmidt glared at her defiantly out of the corner of his eye and remained resolutely tight-lipped.
‘What’s going on?’ demanded Jackson, glancing between the two of them.
The monk watched silently, the enigmatic smile still hovering around his lips.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ the Crovir Hunter finally said in a hard voice.
Alexa suspected she knew the reason why Schmidt was acting the way he was, but she had to be certain. From Yonten’s expression, he had also guessed the truth.
‘Do you answer to Cavaleti?’ she asked coldly.
Schmidt turned to look at her. ‘Who the hell is Cavaleti?’
She couldn’t detect any trace of deception in his voice. Relief flashed through her. ‘Then, there’s only one reason you would do something so foolish as to draw your gun on us.’ She lowered the Sig and stepped back. ‘You’re a Freemason.’
Carrington’s jaw sagged open. ‘What, you mean like…secret handshakes, passwords, and that dancing naked in the moonlight stuff?’
Alexa and Schmidt looked at him icily.
‘We do not dance naked in the moonlight,’ said the Hunter between gritted teeth.
Carrington’s face fell slightly. ‘You sure? ’Cause I heard rumors.’
Schmidt holstered the Beretta. ‘I’m afraid I can’t let you go farther than this,’ he said. ‘I was curious to see what you were up to when I heard you were coming here. The Freemasons’ secrets must remain just that—secrets.’
‘A man called Alberto Cavaleti wants to use those secrets to destroy the Catholic Church,’ said Alexa.
Schmidt went still.
‘You can imagine what would happen if that came to pass,’ she continued in an even tone. ‘His sect will stop at nothing to get their hands on what may lie in the vault below this temple—and that includes destroying the Freemasons.’
‘Cavaleti’s sect was behind the incident at the Lodge in Scotland in 1995,’ said Jackson quietly. ‘We think they’ll try to break in here as well. The recent escalation in the security measures is bound to have alerted them to the fact t
hat the English Freemasons are currently in possession of a very important object.’
Schmidt’s lips twisted in a cynical grimace.
Alexa ignored the wave of impatience coursing through her limbs. ‘This is where you decide where your loyalties lie, Frank. You’re either with us or against us on this.’
The Crovir Hunter’s head snapped around at the use of his first name. She had not uttered it in a long time. Alexa saw Jackson glance uneasily between the two of them once more.
Schmidt looked at her for a long moment. He finally closed his eyes briefly and snorted in disgust. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll be kicked out of the fraternity for sure.’
Carrington grinned and slapped him on the back. ‘You can always go back to just being a plain old immortal.’
Schmidt scowled at the Crovir before leading the way down the stairs, pen torch in hand. The opening closed ponderously behind them.
The steps spiraled through two full revolutions before ending in a circular vestibule thirty feet below ground. Dim light spilled over the sconces in the rock walls that framed the foyer and washed across the wide marble corridor beyond it. A pair of steel doors stood at the end of the passage.
Their footsteps echoed on the polished floor as they strolled toward the vault.
‘I’ve never been down here before,’ said Schmidt as he shone his light on the metal doors. A trace of unease underlaid his words. ‘My Lodge is in the States.’ He hesitated. ‘Although I’ve visited this Hall on several occasions, I didn’t know this place existed until you showed me those satellite images.’
King's Crusade (Seventeen) Page 19