“Try using your cell,” suggested Kate, as she pulled out her own.
“Signal’s out.” Sarah announced tensely.
“It’s them!” Frank’s large, sallow face was ghostlike. “They’re here. Quick, we have to hide!” He stumbled toward the door in the dim electronic light.
“The tablets!” Without thinking twice, Kate knocked Frank aside and bolted out the door into the dark hallway.
“Kate, no!” John rushed after his wife, followed by Pierre and Sarah.
The four flew down the stairs, and through the labyrinthine hallways, bathed in phone light, Kate sprinting in the lead. When she got to the familiar lab door, she struggled to jam her temporary key-card into the reader; she could hear the others in huffing down the adjacent hallway.
Suddenly, bright beams of light shone against the other end of the hall along with the jerky movements of tiny red lights. Laser-pointers. Reflexively she leapt back from the door and ran the other way. “Go back!” she shouted as the silhouettes of her followers rounded the corner. “They’ve got guns!” She crashed into John and Pierre and shoved them in the opposite direction.
“Stop them!” barked a heavy voice from the end of the hall. Several shots rang out as the scared party dove around the corner.
“We have to get out of here!” Pierre said, panting sharply. “Sarah, go back up the stairway by my office and try to find Frank before someone else does. Kate, John, take the hallway behind us east to the main corridor and run to the security office by the loading bay. Try to use a radio to call for help. I’ll go west and take the service stairs up the main level. We have a better chance apart. Go!”
The group broke and dashed in their commanded directions; all except one. Listening to the clunk of boots coming toward him, Pierre mustered as much dignity as he could as he leaned against the wall, his hand pressed against his bleeding stomach.
His pursuer was caught off guard as he took the corner and slammed right into the waiting commissioner. Uttering obscenities in a coarse foreign language, he grabbed Pierre by the scruff and dragged him into the hallway. “I got one!”
Wincing in pain and feeling fresh gushes of blood at each step, Pierre didn’t struggle as he was hauled to the lab door where four figures dressed in black fatigues were huddled.
“You have key?” The tallest of the group stared at Pierre fiercely with merciless blue eyes.
“No.”
“Then, we blow you apart with the door. Sven, rig the charge.”
“Let me ask him, Ivan.” A man glided out from behind the wall of brutes. He wore a silver-embroidered black robe held in place against his broad figure with a wide matching belt around his waist. In the glare of the bright, tactical flashlights, Pierre could see the eyes of the robed man probing him deeply.
“He has a keycard, left inside pocket.”
Ivan yanked Pierre’s jacket open and ripped the lining around the pocket completely out before shoving him to the ground. Holding up the keycard stained with Pierre’s own blood, the ruffian smashed it into the slot and smiled triumphantly in the eerie green confirmation light. The lock clicked, and the door was flown open as three men stormed inside after their prize. It wasn’t until the sounds of overturning tables, shattering glass, and thunking metal ceased that the fourth man entered; Pierre watched his robe trail on the floor as he crossed the threshold of the lab in reverent steps as a priest to a shrine.
When the be-robed man returned a few moments later, Pierre’s blurred vision could not hold onto his features. He couldn’t see the jubilant gleam in his eye nor the mocking smile on his face. Like a dot made upon a frosty window, there was only one clear point in the commissioner’s vision—the three, glossy ebony stones held securely in the emerging man’s arms.
“You only have seven years,” Pierre declared weakly, fighting the overwhelming urge to fall asleep. His heavy lids closed. Against his cheek he barely felt the scratchy, wiry hairs of a beard followed by a puff of moist breath upon his ear.
“That’s all the time we need,” whispered the prophet menacingly before he stood, followed his men down the hall, and left the commissioner to the silence of the darkness.
Chapter 84
“John, there’s a light coming. Get down!”
Turning off her phone screen, Kate yanked on her husband’s arm, pulling him down to the floor behind a stack of empty wooden crates. Hunched next to the wall, they listened to the rapid footsteps coming their direction; a beam of light growing to reach the floor directly beside them. It would hit them in a moment. John, opting for surprising rather than being surprised, waited for two more advancing steps before shoving the crates completely over. There was a high shriek, then, a tumultuous crash of wood on the linoleum floor. Despite the beam of light now fully on them, Kate and John tuned tail to run when a familiar voice cried out: “Kate, Is that you?”
“Sarah!” The archeologists rushed to her.
“I’m so sorry,” John blurted, hastily offering his hand to help her up. “We thought you were—”
“Never mind. I might have done the same.”
“Are you hurt?” Kate asked.
“I don’t think so. There’ll be a couple of bruises; that’s all. By the way, you guys haven’t booby-trapped Frank, while you’re at it by any chance, have you? I wasn’t able to find him.”
“No. He hasn’t been this way. What are those papers?”
Kate nodded toward the floor which was scattered with sheaves of loose documents.
“Frank’s file.” Sarah scooped to pick the papers up; the others joined. “He left it on Pierre’s desk.” She grabbed the manila folder from under a crate and stuffed the gathered pile back into it. “And that’s not all I found. Here.” She grasped at a weightier paper covered with neat, tightly-curled handwriting. Across the top was written “The Final Seven.” Kate sped-read the first two paragraphs and blanched.
“He really believes this,” she said slightly awed.
“So do I,” Sarah stated resolutely. “Those intruders knew where the lab was…and what was in it. I think they came for the tablets; I think the ‘final seven’ is about to start.”
Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz.
All three looked at their phones as the same text message popped up on each screen.
“Signal’s back.” John said. “It’s a text from Pierre.”
“Mine, too.” Sarah read out loud. “It says, ‘Tablets taken. The prophecy is true. Find my notes. I hope to see you all on the other side. May God keep you.”
“Come on, then.” Kate took a step down the hallway. “Sarah’s already got the notes. He’s waiting for us on the other side of the museum.” But the others hadn’t moved.
“You don’t think…?” Sarah’s eyes grew wide in fear.
“We’ve got to find him!” exclaimed John. He took off, running back down the hall, Sarah and Kate on his heels.
“He must be near the lab if he knows the tablets are gone,” Sarah shouted between breaths.
“We can’t go back to the lab!” puffed Kate. “They’ll catch us!”
“Pierre might be hurt, Kate!” John yelled back. “He meant ‘see us on the other side of death’, not the building!”
“Oh God, no. And we just left him there!”
“Not for long.”
They stopped a few corridors away from their target; John signaled for lights out and silence; everyone tried to pant as quietly as they could. He popped his head around a corner and listened. Detecting no danger, he grasped Kate’s hand, who in turn took Sarah’s, and led them into the hall. Feeling the wall with one hand, they lightly sprinted down the length until they came to the next corner. John stopped them and peered again. The corridor was dark. They took a step forward, then heard it. A wheeze in the blackness; a faint struggle for breath.
“Pierre?” Sarah whispered loudly. There was no answer, save the weak gasping again. Taking the risk, John pressed on his phone and pointed the screen down the hall.
/> “Pierre!” the three cried out at the same time. The feeble glow hit him and raced to their friend’s side. John gently propped him up from his slumped position and held the light, while Kate and Sarah examined the wound. After a moment, Kate looked into her husband’s face and shook her head, releasing a tear from the corner of her eye.
“Pierre, can you hear me?” Sarah laid a gentle hand against his cheek. “He’s ice cold. Here.” She stood, unlocked the lab door, and dashed inside. “Cover him with these.” She had returned with an armful of cleaning towels and a thin blanket. The other’s obliged, but even as Kate watched Sarah press a towel against the hole in his stomach, she knew it was too late; he had lost too much blood, some of it soaking up from the floor into their very clothes.
A shallow breath came again, his chest barely moving; but the commissioner did not open his eyes nor utter a sound.
“It’s like he’s already gone,” mumbled Kate with a backdrop of sobs. John hung his head, and Sarah folded her hands. In a low but clear voice, she recited, “O Death, where is thy sting? O Hades, where is thy victory? For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus. Amen.”
John and Kate murmured an “amen,” and the ragged breathing ceased.
Chapter 85
It was around midnight when the police finally released Sarah, John and Kate from the museum. They had been found next to the dead commissioner and questioned together, then separately. The information they gave to the police had been on a “need to know” basis. They informed them that they had been part of a team headed by Commissioner Moreau that was doing research on some rare artifacts. Sarah even printed off copies of the original images she took of the stolen tablets for the detectives that questioned them; but no one uttered a word about their mystical significance, the trouble they had caused for John and Kate, nor of the now missing Frank and his GED file.
Once cleared to leave, Sarah offered for the others to stay at her home until they had processed all that had happened and decided what to do next. The two gratefully accepted. The drive across town was quiet, each wrapped up in their own cocoon of thoughts and grief. At the house, Sarah invited Kate and John to make themselves feel at home before heading upstairs to check on Tolu. In an open sitting room near her daughter’s bedroom sat one of their regular house cleaners, whom Sarah had often also employed as a caretaker for Tolu now and again. The young woman was stretched out on a sofa quietly laughing at some late night show. Sarah paid her cash plus tip, thanked her for staying so late, and dismissed her for the night. Trusting the girl could see herself out, Sarah went straight into Tolu’s room to check on her. The child’s breathing was strong and deep, a haunting contradiction of the weak last breathes of Pierre which still echoed in her mind. She gently stroked Tolu’s hair, finding an anchor from the tumultuous evening in the innocence and sweetness of her child’s face. For a moment, she wished this was all there was; wished that she could erase the last several months of disaster upon disaster. But no sooner had the thoughts soared across her mind than she immediately dismissed them. It did no good to dwell on what shouldn’t have happened; what was important was deciding what to do now. Filled with a fresh wave of determination, Sarah leaned down to kiss her daughter’s forehead before leaving the room and pulling out her phone.
*
“Sammy? This is Sarah Mode. The woman who bought you lunch a couple weeks ago?”
“Of course, I remember you, Preacher Sarah,” Sammy quipped from the other end of the line. “What’s up?”
“Honestly, I don’t know how to begin; but it seems you were right about GED. They just broke into the museum where I work—”
“I was just looking at some photos of the break-in. I hadn’t pinned it to GED yet though. How do you know? Were you there? Are you okay?”
“Hold on, Sammy, please. One at a time. Yes, I was there; in fact, one of my fr…friends was killed. But it could have been me. It could have been any of us. I just…” Sarah covered her face with her hands as the traumatic memories tore through her like blanket of barbed-wire fence. John and Kate, sorting through the documents of Frank’s file at the dining room table, looked up at Sarah in concern. She waved that she was okay, cleared her throat, and reached for a less direct approach.
“What do you mean you saw pictures? I didn’t think the press would have anything out until the morning.”
“There’s always a camera around somewhere,” Sammy stated bluntly. “You just have to know where to access their images. So, how do you know it was GED?”
“We have a file that was given to us by…well, it’s a long story. But it contains documents that prove GED was interested in some artifacts I was working on. That’s what they stole from the museum tonight—three ancient Akkadian…um…Babylonian stone tablets.”
“Do you know what they wanted them for? Knowing them, I doubt it was just to sell on the black market.”
“We think…” Sarah paused. Was Sammy even going to believe her? It sounded so crazy to say outside the clandestine vault of the lab; and yet, in her heart, she had no doubt that what Pierre had discovered, what her dreams had been hinting at, and what she had been studying in Daniel were absolutely true. “We think someone in GED wants them for ritualistic reasons…to invoke a supernatural occurrence.”
There was silence, then, “I can’t say I didn’t suspect that elite executives of GED, and other corporations, dabbled in occult things. It truly is a hidden world in those high levels of wealth and power—filled with shocking things. Like these microbit experiments they’ve been doing in Africa - it turns out that—” click!
“Hello? Sammy, are you there?” Sarah nervously checked the signal status—three bars. Her signal hadn’t been jammed again; but the thought didn’t seem to bring any relief. She still felt terrified. A text suddenly came through. “Sammy says she has a low battery,” Sarah relayed. “She wants to know more and asks if I can bring her the file. She’s got an address here. I think we should leave…now.”
Kate and John looked at each other, then, back at Sarah.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” asked Kate. “I mean we’re probably in enough danger as it is, even having these.” She held up a document lying on the table. “Do we really want to get more people involved? People we don’t know?”
“I trust Sammy,” Sarah countered firmly, but un-harshly. “She’s the only person most likely to believe us at this point…” she trailed off as her eyes came to rest on the small scar on the back of her hand. What had Sammy said about microbit experiments?
“Kate, have you come across anything in that file that mentions microbits or Africa?”
Kate bit her lip in thought while John shuffled through the pages.
“No. I don’t think so. There is a lot in here about Africa; plans of some kind of West African Union scheme, but no—”
“Here’s something,” John called out. “Microbits…identity security…work clearance…health monitoring…disease neutralizing…Oh no, listen to this note written in the margin. ‘Injectable disease and cure at the same time. Something viral and unstoppable. Microbit incubates pathogen until release. Cures only when code remotely received. Test…” He looked up. “It says South America.”
“It’s the Rigula virus!” Kate covered her mouth with her hand in shock. “GED purposely…” She shook her head, too horrified at the words.
“Hundreds of thousands have died, including children,” said Sarah aghast. “Who could be so supernaturally evil!…And how could my husband work for such a company?”
Kate rose and patted her shoulder reassuringly. “He probably doesn’t even know things like this are going on. Remember, these are confidential documents. I don’t know how Frank got them; but I am pretty sure no one except a few top executives, were ever meant to see them. Whatever your husband does for GED is aboveboard, I’m sure.”
Sarah nodded, but more to show appreciation for Kate’s wor
ds than agreement. The memory of that night she had overheard James’ conversation—his talk about blackmail, bribes, and ‘culling the herd’—called to her mind and filled her with anxiety. If he had already been willing to compromise that far, how much more? In a flash, her mind’s eye changed its slide, and she saw the dream with the nightmarish beast holding James in its clutches. He had been pushed there, she suddenly recalled; the woman behind him had pushed him. Sarah’s eyes alit with fright. Had he been trapped? Forced to do those things by threats of…she glanced at her hand again - the small, smooth mound under her skin. Could the Rigula be in there? Waiting in a small chamber of the microbit until someone decided to push a button on a computer and release it? What about Tolu? Overwhelmed, she thumped down onto a chair and almost lost her balance over the side.
“Sarah? Are you okay?” John had risen from his seat and Kate glanced at her nervously.
“I was just thinking…about my dream,” she tried to smooth it over without revealing her true fears. “Maybe God was trying to show me, to warn me about all this. Just seeing James struggling in that beast’s grasp was…” She choked on a quiet sob.
“Why don’t you call him and tell him what’s happened,” suggested Kate.
John immediately shook his head. “Maybe it’s better to tell him you have an emergency and need him here. You may never know, with a company like that, who could be listening in. I’ve read some articles about technology that allows tapping into cellphone calls. I’ve always dismissed it; but after reading about some of the things in here,” he gestured to the papers on the table, “…well I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
“Alright, I’ll try.” Sarah excused herself to the kitchen and pressed James’ number. It rang twice before being sent to voicemail. “Hi, you’ve reached James Mode—” She hung up, frowned, and tried again. This time it went straight to voicemail. Sarah couldn’t explain it. Though she had been used to this treatment of her calls in the past, there was something about this time that prodded at her. Maybe it was the events of the evening, the truth about the microbits, or the new perspective of her dream; but Sarah couldn’t help feeling that something dreadful had happened, or was happening, and that the realization of real danger had come too late to stop it.
The Snare Page 31