The Crypt (17 page)

“Every time.”

So much for getting a straight answer.

The old man started walking away.

“Wait. I could sure use you as a translator?”

He slowed and turned back to face her. “I’m performing the ceremony. I’ll translate what you need to hear.”

With that he turned and walked away.

He’s performing the ceremony? What the fuck does that mean? Who is this old guy?

Things weren’t adding up. He walked away earlier when he heard the name Drake Bellamy. He knows Italian, British English and American English. He’s old and he’s the one doing the eulogy. This old man knew about the dead man in Hungarian custody. What else did he know? Could he be the one she was looking for?

As the old man reached the stairs that allowed access to the platform where the microphone was set up, he tossed his cane to the side, righted himself and walked up the steps two at a time.

Shit, another Jack Tate. All this time the old man was the guy she was looking for.

Jack Tate was the alias Armond Stuart used on Sarah all those months ago when she didn’t know what he looked like.

She quickly checked her surroundings. No one appeared to be watching her or getting too close. Give it a few minutes and then she’d leave. Something about Montone was getting under her skin. It seemed too intense, too scary, too closed in.

She never thought she’d feel on edge about such a beautiful place but it was giving off bad vibes now.

The old man had reached the microphone and started speaking in Italian to the crowd. People responded randomly. Some shook their heads, while others nodded and clapped.

What is this?

It reminded her of a cult or a ceremony of some kind.

Then she heard her name.

“Sarah Roberts. She’s over there.”

The old man was pointing. She felt the eyes of everyone devour her as they turned to stare. Then the thought hit her.
When did I ever tell him my name
?

Like an animal being hunted, she suddenly felt the urge to run. An equal urge to make those responsible pay in blood, rose in her too. 

“Sarah has been the cause of all this turmoil,” the old man continued in English. “Not only does she show up here, but she comes announcing the name Drake Bellamy. And look who she brought with her.”

The old man pointed to the roof of a building on Sarah’s right.

She looked up. On the roof of a three-story building stood five men dressed in black. In between them stood Parkman. His hands were tied behind him and he had a gag in his mouth.

When Sarah looked back at the podium two men dressed in black had moved in close to her. Each man stood on either side four feet away.

The hundred people who had showed up for the ceremony were slowly dispersing. Everything was quiet for a moment. Who would make the first move?

Sarah looked back up to the roof. No one was there anymore. They had moved Parkman away from the edge.

The old man had walked from the microphone and stepped off the podium. He turned and started toward her.

What was all this for? Could they have staged this whole event to capture me? Why, when all they had to do was take me on any street? There was definitely enough men and weapons to handle that.

He stood before her now. “Let’s walk and talk. I want to know what you know.”

Sarah shook her head. “Actually it’s the other way around.”

The old man had turned away but stopped and looked back at her. “What did you say?”

“I want to know what you know, asshole. I am here to close this immigration business down and if I can’t succeed then I’m here to expose it for what it is.”

He turned fully and addressed her. “Your reputation precedes you. I’ve heard all about your accomplishments. You can be quite dangerous. That’s why we needed to be prepared. But now that you’re in my grasp, I don’t fear you. Armond informed me about you and your sister. We’re prepared.”

“Armond Stuart?”

Sarah started breathing heavy. Her anger was boiling over. These men would think it was anxiety or fear. That would be their mistake.

“Yes. He told me who you are and that you’re hunting him. Did you know that he is one of my best customers? There is no way I could ever allow any harm to come to him.”

Sarah began putting it all together.

“The Hungarian man who died in custody was István wasn’t it? The man who told me where to find you, Mr. Tony Soprano.”

The old man turned and walked away without another word.

In that moment something banged hard above, making her duck down. The shutters of numerous windows had been whipped open over her head. When she looked up she counted seven different men holding rifles with scopes on them.

“You’ve been watched since the moment you entered Montone,” the old man said from about ten feet away. “Did you think you could just walk into our lair without any of us knowing you’re here?” He slowed and turned to his men in the windows. “Kill her in the street like a rabid dog if she doesn’t start walking in two seconds.”

Sarah waited and watched. Two seconds wasn’t very long. She stepped forward as the first bullet passed close enough to be heard as it cut the air by her head. Her next step was quicker.

Real fear of death turned her stomach. As angry as she was she couldn’t accomplish anything dead, so she kept walking.

The two men dressed in black on either side of her stepped up closer and walked with her.

As she followed the old man new shutters opened and ones further away closed.

How many men did this guy have working for him?

They guided her down a sloping cobblestone road and onto the front steps of a church. Two large wooden doors were opened as she neared the entrance. She could no longer see the old man. He had already entered the church.

Sarah stepped into the centuries-old church and took in her surroundings. Long wooden pews sat facing the front. The roof was made of stone with huge paintings on all four walls.

She was shoved forward by one of the men behind her.

She stepped into the middle of the church and saw the front more clearly.

A large wooden crucifix hung on the wall at the front. What made her almost ruin her new underwear wasn’t the cross, but who it bore.

Parkman had been tied to the cross, bound there by his wrists and ankles, his head fallen and resting on his chest.

Chapter 16

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Why would they do that? Was this a group of human traffickers or some religious cult? How sick were these people?

She started for Parkman. Footsteps behind her sped up. She dodged to the right and slipped in between two pews at the exact moment one of the men in black who had been escorting her was about to shove her yet again. He lost his balance with the forward motion and fell to the stone floor.

Sarah hopped back out from the pew and kicked him in the stomach. She heard the air rush out of him as he fell over on to his back. In seconds she had the weapon out of his belt and up and aimed at the other man in black who was approaching fast.

“Back up!” Sarah shouted. “I’m going to untie my friend. I will be doing it whether or not you are still breathing.”

The man in black raised his hands and nodded. Other men were filing in through the front doors of the church.

Sarah stepped backwards as she headed for the crucifix at the front. She turned at the last pew and ran up a couple steps to get to the bottom of the crucifix.

A quick glance back showed her that no one was moving. There were about twenty people assembled by the entrance doors now. The two men who had escorted her were standing side by side halfway up the center aisle, the guy she hit holding his stomach, leaning against a pew.

A ladder sat on the right.

That must’ve been the one they used to tie him up. Bastards.

She tucked her new gun into the waistband of her jeans and grabbed the ladder, constantly looking over her shoulder at the people watching her.

Once the ladder was set up, she climbed until she was face to face with Parkman.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked.

He nodded, but it was almost imperceptible. Then he whispered something.

“What’s that?” she asked, leaning in closer.

“Don’t worry about me. Talk to these people. While you’re busy I will leave this place and bring help. Just leave me here. I have a way. Trust me.”

“How am I going to get you down?” she asked, loud enough for everyone in the church behind her to hear. “Oh Parkman, what have they done to you?” Then she turned to descend the ladder and whispered, “Good luck,” loud enough for Parkman to hear.

One last look up and again she saw the most imperceptible nod.

At the bottom of the ladder she turned to face everyone.

“You will all pay for this.”

Tony Soprano, the old man with the cane, stepped into the side area of the church. It looked like he had come up from underground somewhere.

“Bring her to me,” he said and then disappeared below ground again.

Almost everyone in the church advanced forward. Sarah raised her hands and said, “I’ll go willingly. Just point the fucking way.”

When she stepped back down into the main area of the church she counted almost ten guns pointed at her.

“Overkill isn’t it?” she asked. She knew what they wanted. A scan of their faces told her how serious they were. She knew none of them would risk her serious harm as their boss wanted to talk to her. But she also knew they couldn’t let her follow their boss armed and dangerous. The dangerous part they would have to live with but the armed part they could do something about.

She reached down slowly and lifted the weapon from the butt end. Once it was out of her waistband she handed it to the man she had taken it from. He grabbed it and motioned for her to move.

On the side of the church, where Tony had seemed to disappear into the floor, she saw a wooden door that opened sideways. It exposed a hole in the ground, with stairs that led down into darkness.

The crypt of the church.

Oh shit. Was this the crypt that Vivian had been talking about? But didn’t she say that I still had five or six days left? Could it be that I never leave this crypt and by the end of the week they kill me?

She had no choice though. She had to descend the steps and enter the first crypt of her life.

“Thanks, Vivian, for the warning. I could’ve used more help here,” she mumbled to herself.

Sarah took one step at a time, dropping below the stone floor of the church, her stomach dropping with her. A hallway turned to the right. She took it and walked four feet where she entered a vast room. The walls had large square stones that appeared to signify where people had been buried. On the side was another door that sat open. From where she stood she could see that it looked like an office of some kind. Soft amber light emitted from the room.

She took a deep breath, stepped across the crypt and entered the office. Tony sat behind a large metal desk that was littered with weapons and ammunition. She scanned the room, surprised that for this second they were alone. A red couch sat along the back wall. She stood on a huge red square carpet that had two chairs facing the desk. To the right of the desk a fire licked away at the new wood that had been added recently.

Okay good, Vivian said to use the fire. There’s fire now. So how do I use it?

“Do you like my office?” he asked.

“A fireplace in a crypt? How did you work that?”

“I chose this room as it sat directly below the leper’s hole. The smoke from the fire has been set to funnel through there and then outside.”

“What’s a leper’s hole?” Sarah asked.

“Years ago the church would feed the lepers through a hole in the wall so they wouldn’t catch the disease.”

“Sounds humane.”

“We’re not here to discuss that though are we? Have a seat and tell me everything.”

He pointed at one of the two chairs facing the desk. Sarah stepped forward and sat. Movement caught her eye from behind. She spun in her chair and saw her two escorts entering the office and moving to the couch along the back wall where they both sat, guns in their hands.

“I know about Drake Bellamy,” she started after turning back around. “He has the original documents now and he gave me a copy. The attempt on his life in two weeks at the baseball game will fail. If I don’t leave here alive, everything I have will go to the proper authorities and everything Drake has will follow. I came to tell you that it’s over.”

“You’re a fool. Do you think I actually believe you?”

“I don’t bluff.”

“Well then, you are a fool. We’re too big to bring us down. Too connected. We have employees in almost every government worldwide.”

“If I don’t have the goods on you then why didn’t I come in heavy handed? Why come to Montone un-armed and allow myself to be taken so easily. Ask yourself that?”