by T. G. Ayer
Only when Max nodded at Flavius, giving him an encouraging glance, did the locator turn to the inspector. He gave him a quick rundown of their fruitless field search and Max was glad when the inspector nodded, looking somber.
“Perhaps you should have taken advantage of my local knowledge before searching on your own. If your vision gave you a view of the cemetery, it is not necessarily one that is above ground.”
Corina and Flavius both frowned at the Pienius. “What do you mean?” Corina asked.
Pienius hesitated, studying the two, checking if they really did need further information. Then he cleared his throat. “In addition to the aboveground cemeteries, the old inhabitants of Londonium, as in Rome, built elaborate underground passages and catacombs in which they stored the bodies of the dead. It’s a tradition going back well over a thousand years, and there are some old families who still subscribe to the ancient ways.”
Corina and Flavius glanced at Max.
Flavius looked doubtful, while the look on Corina’s face said she thought the man was serious. “I had no idea,” Corina said. “We don’t have such tunnels in the States, though I have heard about the Roman ones.”
Pienius seemed oblivious to their skepticism as he continued, “In fact, some above-ground cemeteries also have the catacombs and tunnels built beneath them. They aren’t easily accessible from the surface though. For security reasons, the entrances are usually kept secret; only plot-owners have access.”
That made sense to Max. “Do you know of any way we can gain access to those underground passages without upsetting too many of those plot-owners?”
Pienius smiled. “Give me an hour and I will be back. I need to find a particular map that I think will help us.”
He bowed politely then disappeared from the lobby into the street, leaving Max and his team wary, yet expectant.
“You think he’s legit?” asked Corina.
Flavius was quiet.
Max was still staring at the glass doors. “He damned well better be.”
Chapter 37
While waiting for Pienius, Max led his team into the restaurant where they found a window table and ordered meals. He wasn’t entirely sure what time of day it was, and Max didn’t think his body cared either.
When Pienius arrived, the team headed upstairs to the suite. They preferred to refrain from publicizing their search and had already received curious glances from the other patrons in the restaurant. Possibly their accents were drawing attention as they’d taken care not to speak of anything confidential in public.
Pienius had brought an ancient-looking map with him, and spread it out on the dining table.
“This is an official council map of all the subterranean tunnels and catacombs across the city. It’s rather old, so anything constructed in the last decade may not be included. Not that many people are building catacombs these days.”
Max tapped a finger on the map. “It’s a start at least. Let’s hope it gets us somewhere.”
Max watched in silence as Pienius began to mark off particular catacombs that were unlikely to be part of their search area. “These places are in a state of extreme disrepair. They are on the list, but far too dangerous for people to be walking through them all the time.”
He glanced at Flavius.
“Can you give me an idea of what you saw, of your surroundings, the architecture, the types of tombstones, style of statutes?”
Flavius nodded, clearly impressed by the man’s intuitive questions. The two of them continued to discuss possible locations while Max lost himself within his thoughts.
His attention was drawn back to the present with the mention of the police. Flavius was saying, “Are you sure you don’t want to get additional back-up?”
Max was surprised when the inspector shook his head. “There really is no need. I am quite capable of guiding you to the most likely area. Once we are closer, I have a feeling that you will be far more successful than any local policeman in identifying the specific location.”
Pienius paused and shifted his gaze to meet Max. He seemed to be asking a question that Max couldn’t answer. The moment passed, and then the inspector said, “While we may not need the support of the police force, what we do require are arms. Just in case.”
Max frowned. “Surely you’re able to procure suitable weapons from your department. Being a police officer.”
Pienius shook his head. “The situation is tenuous. I cannot trust that everyone in my department, or among my superiors, is honest about their loyalties. Trust me, now is the time to take the utmost care. And the fact that I cannot leave my trust one hundred percent at the feet of my fellow officers, should tell you something. The last thing I will be able to do is procure weapons without tipping somebody off.”
Max nodded, a cool smile on his face. “People can always be bought.”
The inspector smiled back. The grin told Max he was glad he didn’t have to elaborate. Max figured an admission by a police officer, that he suspected someone on his own force was crooked, would be hard to come by.
“I’ll make a call to the embassy. I hope it won’t take too much time, because time is one thing we don’t have a lot of.”
Max moved toward a table beside the window for some privacy while he dialed. “Hello. This is Commander Vissarion. I’d like to speak to the Head of Security.”
Colonel Braxus, a trusted confidant of General Aulus, answered a minute later, his tone stern and unforgiving. It didn’t take long for Max to realize the man was extremely reluctant to help.
Max was in no mood to bargain, and soon began to lose patience. “I apologize if I seem rude, Colonel Braxus, but if you please give General Aulus in the Capital a call, I have every confidence he will set your mind at ease.”
After a long pause, Braxus cleared his throat, apparently convinced of Max’s authority by the mere mention of Aulus’s name.
“Even if I agreed to provide you with these weapons, it’s going to take a few hours to round them up.”
“We can wait, sir. If that’s what it takes, we will wait.”
The man sighed. “I probably shouldn’t even be helping you. Given the circumstances.”
Max ignored him. Those circumstances were none of Max’s concern at this point in time. “I understand your position, sir. I wouldn't be making such a request were it not necessary. And extremely urgent. General Aul-”
Braxus cut Max off. “I have already spoken to the general and advised him of the position that we are in.”
Max stiffened, frowning. What position? Was Max expected to read between the lines? If so, Braxus was telling him that someone was currently watching his movements, someone who could influence the success of the mission.
There wasn’t time to tread on eggshells, but at the same time Max wasn’t eager to throw a powerful contact to the wolves. “I’d be most grateful for any help, sir. But if you are unable to assist, I understand.”
Perhaps if they ended their conversation on this note it would allow the man to claim that he’d done nothing to assist Max and his team. However, the Colonel relented and promised to do his best.
Max rang off, worried about the man’s reaction, wondering what else was going on that he didn’t know. This was not the first time he’d been sent on a mission with insufficient briefing.
He was getting tired of Aulus keeping things from him, information that for all he knew, might be of vital importance to recovering Allegra.
The team didn’t wait long at the hotel. Despite Braxus’s reluctance, he provided the weapons soon enough, sending them over with Egent.
Leaving Pienius in the room, the team met the attaché in the lobby. Gone was the bright, cheery man of their earlier encounters. Instead, they met a dour John, making Max wonder at the reason behind the sudden Jekyll and Hyde transformation.
Suddenly, after being so effusive when they first met him, the attaché appeared reluctant to have anything to do with Max and his team. He handed the keys to
the vehicle to Max and disappeared with a brisk warning to take care of the van, and the ‘golf bags’ in the back. Then he strode off down the street, head down against the wind.
He’d said nothing more, just strode down the street, heading against the wind.
“Now wasn't that strange?” asked Corina as she watched Egent through the hotel window. “It’s like we’ve suddenly acquired leprosy. Or perhaps he is subject to sudden mood swings.”
Max, by that time, had given up wondering what was going on. He would have thought that it would have been in the best interests of the New Germanic States’ embassy to help the team find the Pythia as quickly as possible. The faster they returned home with Allegra, the easier it would be for them to regain their good standing on an international scale.
Max sighed. Honestly, he’d never been a politically minded man. Not that he lacked the head for it.
He’d just never had the heart for the ruthless back-stabbing nature of that game. It had so often seemed pointless, running around in circles, constantly assuaging egos, pandering to the more powerful ones and bowing to others.
Which was why he was probably better off doing the grunt work, work that did not entail countless hours blowing smoke up someone's ass when they could see exactly what you were doing and could usually predict your next move before you even knew you were going to make it.
Pienius appeared right after Egent left, his brows bunching with curiosity as he studied their faces. Max handed the van’s keys to the inspector. It stood to reason that a native would get them to their destination faster.
“Do you mind driving?” he asked.
Pienius smiled. “Not at all.” He gave Max a strange look, then turned and walked off.
The team followed the inspector as they headed out in search of the van. Boxy in shape, it looked like a small delivery vehicle, two seats up front and large enough for the four of them including the weapons.
When Max flung open the back door and inspected the ‘golf bags’ he was surprised. Despite his reluctance, Braxus had provided them with sufficient ammunition for the mission. Guns, rifles, ammo. Even a box full of grenades. He’d gone all out and given them a broad spectrum of weapons to choose from.
Coming from a man so seemingly reluctant to help, this largesse made Max all the more certain that something was up.
He shut the rear door and headed up front, taking a seat beside Pienius who seemed content to study his phone while the seer and the locator settled themselves beside boxes of dangerous firepower.
Pienius gunned the engine and they set off, giving Max time to think things through.
He wouldn’t have been surprised if the general had gotten the president involved, overruling Braxus’s hesitations. But just in case Aulus knew nothing of Braxus’s reluctance, Max sent off a short message to his superior, confiding his suspicions that someone was attempting to influence the actions of the Head of Security at their Brittanic Embassy.
Then he put the issue out of his mind and settled back, eager to focus on finding Allegra.
They had the weapons they needed, now all they had needed to do was to rescue Allegra and bring her home.
Chapter 38
Allegra had slept fitfully over the last few hours. With her back so damaged, and still bleeding, she found it difficult to achieve a tolerable position in which to sleep. In the end, she’d finally turned over and fallen asleep on her stomach.
Her captors had left her without so much as a bandage or a bottle of disinfectant. She supposed she should be grateful they’d removed the zip ties. Not that she would have been able to treat herself, considering the wounds were so high up on her back.
Whispers, soft whispers echoed in her head, growing louder, filling her mind, then fading away to nothing. Allegra blinked as the one whispered faint voice grew louder. She concentrated, listening to verify if she knew the voice, but it wasn’t familiar at all.
“My child, you must be on your guard. Do not be complacent . . . you are in danger.”
Allegra frowned. That was an understatement, and entirely unnecessary advice.
Given that she’d already endured such horrible torture by child murderers, and been explicitly threatened with death, it was blindingly obvious that she too was in danger.
But was the voice warning her that something even worse was coming?
Before she could ask any questions, the voice faded away and all Allegra could hear was the clicking of the light in the ceiling, and the sound of her own ragged breathing.
She forced herself to sit up, moaning as pain shot up and down her back. A wave of shivers rippled through her body. The room had become quite cold and her back was bare where it had been torn apart.
She stiffened as she caught sight of a pair of white silk pajamas on the dresser.
Someone must’ve come in while she’d been asleep. Allegra was left with little option but to use the clothing, since her own things were ruined, shirt torn in half, pants soaked with blood.
Taking extra care, she got to her feet and fetched the nightclothes. She shrugged off the remnants of her bloody shirt and shifted to inspect her damaged back in the hazy reflection of the steel mirror.
Pale skin in stark contrast against torn, gaping wounds.
The twisted position sent waves of spiking pain from neck to waist. Allegra heaved a pained sighed and straightened slowly. She grabbed the pajama top and drew it on, wincing as it touched the raw and broken skin. She could feel where the silk began to soak up the blood, but there was little she could do about it.
She felt better after having herself covered. Even semi-nudity made her feel uncomfortable, considering she still wasn’t sure the place didn’t have cameras. Though she couldn't see any, she wasn't naive enough to think there were none.
To change the pants meant Allegra had to bend her very damaged back, forcing herself to remain silent as pain, burning pain, lanced through her bent back.
Huffing out a controlled breath, she straightened and considered her options. The voice had warned that she was in danger. What if the high priest was finally coming to get rid of her?
She scanned the room, looking for a good spot to hide. And found none. The only place she could think of, where they wouldn't see her immediately, was behind the door. Even with the door wide open, the space behind it was large enough for Allegra to hide.
Seemed as good a plan as any.
And perhaps, with some luck she’d be able to make a run for it before they realized what had happened. To gain a precious second or two, hopefully, she arranged the duvets and pillow so they could be taken for her sleeping form at first glance.
She’d just positioned herself in the corner behind the door when it opened. It let out that soft shushing sound and the intruder waited unmoving on the threshold until the door was fully opened.
Someone large and heavy rushed inside and the sound of gunfire filled the air. Bullets hit the bed, which was now a convoluted mess of blankets. A rumpled pile, the blanket thrown onto the pillow, appeared to hide a sleeping body.
Despite, or probably because of, the throbbing pain in her back, Allegra was filled with the need for revenge. She had suffered enough. She felt compelled to act, to do something to defend herself, even if her chances of survival were dire.
The weapon clicked, empty of rounds, and Allegra grabbed her chance. She shoved the door hard, enjoying the grunt of shock that her would-be assassin emitted as he was thrown off-balance. Something hard hit the wall and the gunman let out a cry.
Allegra hoped it was his head.
She rushed out from behind the door, and kicked hard at his ankle, enjoying a flush of satisfaction on seeing who he was. Her persecutor, the man who’d helped the high priest rip the skin of her back. His deep-set eyes were now scrunched in pain as Allegra’s heel landed against his shin hard enough to break it.
Off balance from the blow to his head, he didn’t react fast enough to defend himself.
Allegra used the o
pportunity to punch the man directly in his throat, a sharp jab using the narrow side of her palm. He dropped to his knees holding his throat, making a strange wheezing-gurgling sound.
But the blow hadn’t been enough to knock him out, and he began to struggle back to his feet.
Memories came flooding back, of her torture, of the pain she’d endured while this man had watched with a smile on his face. And those memories filled Allegra with fury.
Stricken by the horror she recalled, Allegra reacted. She punched him again in the abdomen, then when he didn’t go down she aimed a kick at his ribs. She heard the sound of cracking bone, his cries of pain too, but she didn’t stop. He fell back with a moan, one hand clutching his ribs.
Allegra didn’t see him.
All she saw was the cute little boy being sacrificed, and this man standing by and watching, always with that smug smile.
As he reached out toward the door, Allegra stepped forward and kicked him in the gut, glad she’d kept her shoes on. Despite the beating she was administering, he was a strong man, and began to turn onto his side.
Fear rippled through her, and in desperation, terrified that he’d get to his feet and follow her, she lashed out, desperate for him to stay down.
Her foot met his nose, and she heard the crunching of bone. Again.
Blood spurted from his nostrils and trickled down the side of his face. He fell back, and Allegra’s heart stilled. Was he in shock, or pretending, or had she truly knocked him out?
Inhaling harshly, she decided she didn’t particularly care. She had to move fast.
Did he have spare ammunition? Checking his pockets, she found two fresh clips of bullets, one of which she slipped into the front pocket of her pants. Then she grabbed the empty gun and reloaded it with the second clip, her fingers shaking so hard that she had to force herself to concentrate on slipping the magazine in securely.