The Guardian (17 page)

The cell phone started ringing. It was Dieter calling him back. He pushed the S
END
button and said, “Yeah?”

“There is a Mr. Henri Rhette who can be found on Avenue Saint James. He has been called. He is expecting you. Tell me, Jonathan, for what reason did you call me?”

“Because unless I get this thing taken care of quickly, I’m gonna be taking a dirt nap. You’re the only one I know who could find me a doctor in the middle of nowhere.”

“You owe me.”

“I know.”

Like their last meeting, Jonathan didn’t even say good-bye. He closed the phone and threw it back on the seat beside him. Pau was only a few more kilometers ahead. Hopefully this doctor wasn’t some quack. Guess he’d soon find out.

He made one final call before he reached the city limits. This time it was to one of his people back in Rome. He explained the situation, told his guy what he needed, and hung up.

Now it was just a matter of time. Soon he would know the whereabouts of that pain-in-the-neck girl. Wickham’s nagging voice crept up inside his mind.
Get me my scroll!
He really was starting to dislike that man. He’d figure out a way to deal with him later. Right now he had to stay focused. The pursuit of Anna Riley had almost cost him his life. The next time they met, he was determined it would cost hers.

Pau Airport France

Jason made Anna wait to get off the train until he stepped outside and looked around. Once he was sure they were alone, he motioned for her to join him.

They hurried out of the terminal and up to the street, where they grabbed a cab back to the hotel. He looked around in the lobby for someone who looked like they didn’t belong. Once he was satisfied, he and Anna jumped on the elevator and headed for her room.

Anna slipped the key into the lock and led the way in. Jason was impressed. It was probably the nicest room the hotel had to offer. At least they would be staying in some pretty swanky places if this was how Anna traveled. He walked around checking the place out while Anna quickly threw her things in her bag. Five minutes later, they were back downstairs and into another cab.

The drive to the airport was a short one. Jason could sense that Anna didn’t feel like talking too much, so he kept the conversation to a minimum. There would be plenty of time for talking on the plane ride. The plane was impressive. He had never been on a Gulfstream jet before, but he had heard about them. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

As their cab pulled up on the tarmac of the airport, Anna saw Miles standing at the top of the stairs leading into the plane. Some local crew were milling around outside the aircraft, each one doing something different. A guy in a gray jumpsuit was holding a massive hose up to the wing. Someone else was under the plane inspecting the wheels, probably checking tire pressure and brakes. All in all, they looked like a bunch of ants moving vigorously about.

As they got out of the cab, Miles waved his arm at them, calling her and Jason aboard. The man with the hose flipped a switch and released the giant snake from the wing. He shouted something to Miles and did a mock salute. Anna and Jason nodded to him as they made their way up the stairs.

Miles met them halfway and grabbed Anna’s bag. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Not once we got out of Oloron-Sainte-Marie,” Anna answered in a sort of monotone. “Father Vin was shot.”

Miles sighed heavily. “I know.” He nudged her up the stairs. They would be leaving any minute now.

“Where’s Hale?”

“He told us to get you out of here,” Miles answered. “He said he’d catch up to us in London.”

“No. No way.” Anna shook her head. “This plane doesn’t leave without him. We wait.”

Marie came over and put a hand on her shoulder, a motherly look on her face. “Anna, dear, we have to go. It’s for your own safety. Hale is the boss. He has given us explicit orders to go. We have to.”

Anna blinked rapidly, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “Please, Marie, can’t we wait for just a few minutes? I’m really scared. I want him here. Please?”

Marie’s faced softened. She squeezed her shoulder and said, “I’ll go talk to Miles. Maybe we can wait for a few minutes.”

Anna thanked her.

Marie walked to the front of the plane and stuck her head in the cockpit. Jason watched, from behind as Marie talked to Miles. He saw Marie nod her head. Marie turned around and had a smile on her face. “Miles just got off the phone with Hale. He’s right around the corner. We’re waiting for him. He said he needed to talk to you.”

Jason saw the look of relief on Anna’s face. She needed everyone to be traveling together. He knew she needed to talk to Hale, too. She hadn’t wanted to leave him behind. Especially after what just happened.

The left engine wound down. Marie stepped in front of them and moved to the forward door, where she lifted the hydraulic lever and let the stairs to the main cabin down. Seconds later, Hale appeared in the doorway. Anna flung her arms around his neck. He hugged her back and then let go. He stuck his head in the cockpit, said something to Miles, and then closed the cockpit door. “We’re out of here,” he said.

Anna showed Jason around the inside of the plane. She told him to make himself comfortable. He sat down in the big leather chair, the one Father Vin had sat in over the last couple of days. He didn’t miss the forlorn expression on her face, but she didn’t cry this time. She tossed her jacket onto the couch and plopped down beside it. She looked exhausted.

Jason leaned his head against the back of the seat. So here he was. Off to London. What next?

A funny scene from a Chevy Chase movie ran through his mind.
Look kids, Big Ben!
Unfortunately, this trip wouldn’t be as humorous as the Griswolds’ had been.

The plane’s engines once again roared to life. Within seconds they were speeding down the runway. The Gulfstream’s nose lifted, and the plane climbed into the sky.

J
oseph sat at the table waiting for Cardinal Wickham to arrive. As usual, he was early. He just couldn’t stand being late.

He scanned the room for faces he recognized. Many people from the Vatican, priest and nonclergy alike, ate here frequently. It was a quiet little café located just down the street from St. Peter’s Square. It had an outdoor patio, mostly used by tourists looking to have a nice view with their croissants and coffee.

Joseph hated the patio. Too many pigeons. The little rats with wings would trot around bobbing their heads, pecking on the ground for crumbs. Occasionally, one of the braver ones would flutter its wings and spring up and over the little railing, landing on a table or in the middle of someone’s lunch plate.

Utterly repulsive. He simply refused to eat out there. At this very moment, he could see a woman shooing one off the railing next to her table. The rodent with wings squawked and flapped as it fell off the small railing.

Louis entered the room. Joseph stuck a hand up in the air and waved. Seconds later, Wickham took a seat at the table. “Louis.” Joseph nodded at the other cardinal. “Joseph. Glad you could make it.” “You, too.”

Wickham poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe sitting in the middle of the table. He took two sugar cubes from a small plate and dropped them into the oversized mug. “I’m sort of pressed for time, so I’ll keep this short and to the point.”

Just then an attractive young woman appeared at the table. She had a bright white button-down shirt tucked inside a long black apron. She was wearing a long black skirt and black pumps with two-inch heels. “Hello, Louis,” she said. “Good to see you today. Will you be having your usual?”

“Yes, thank you.” Louis smiled at her. “He’ll have the same.” He pointed to Joseph without even looking at him. The young woman smiled, squeezed Louis’s shoulder, winked at him, and left without another word.

“Didn’t I see you with her down at Mad Jack’s last week?” Joseph asked with a grin.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Whatever. Why are we here again?”

“Do you have someplace else to be?”

“Well, the archives are busy this time of day, Louis.”

Cardinal Wickham frowned. “Tell me, Joseph. Do you
want
me to destroy your life? Do you
want
me to tell the world everything I know about you and your past? Or do you want to shut up, sit there, listen to what I have to say, and be the next pope?”

The smirk on Joseph’s face faded. “You know I would love nothing more.”

“Then I suggest you reexamine your attitude toward me—toward a lot of things, actually.”

“And how are you going to make sure that I’m elected?” “First of all, starting tomorrow you will be conducting daily Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica.”

“But what about the archives—”

“I thought you were here to listen,” Wickham said with a disapproving look. “My apologies.”

“You have been transferred. I took the liberty to request that you and your whole office be moved to the papal apartment. They should be gathering your things”—he looked at his watch—”right about now.”

“But I can’t just move in—” Joseph held up his hands in surrender at Wickham’s rolling eyes. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“His Holiness has been in office a long time. He is getting old. His health, however, has never been an issue. With that being the case, no one has even thought about who the next pope should be. Being the Vatican’s secretary of state, I hold a lot of influence in matters such as that. And”—he sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and smiled—”I happen to have a lot of dirt on a lot of people. It will be easy for me to persuade the other cardinals to vote you in.

“Now the big problem will be public opinion. Nobody knows you. We are going to change that. That is why I have this.”

Wickham stood up and pulled a piece of paper out of his pants pockets. He unfolded it and handed it to Joseph. Joseph read it carefully. He looked up at Louis and smiled.

“Pope Paul didn’t write this. Did he?”

“No.” Wickham smirked. “I did. But no one else knows that.” “No one will believe it. He and I hardly know each other.” “Past events can be fabricated, Joseph. You of all people should know that. I’ll just take the liberty of spreading a few rumors of how you and Paul have long been friends. That he had you in the archives working on a top-secret study for him. I’ll tell people that you and he would meet late at night to discuss your findings. By the time I’m done, people will demand that you be the frontrunner for the papacy.”

Joseph stared at Wickham skeptically. “There’s still the issue of this letter.” He held up the crinkled piece of paper. “Who’s honestly going to believe His Holiness wrote this?”

“They will when they see his signature at the bottom. And besides, by this time tomorrow, he’ll be so incoherent, no one will be able to question him to find out otherwise.”

“And you can get him to sign it?” Joseph asked with anticipation.

“Joseph, my boy, I could get him to jump through a burning hoop wearing a tutu and combat boots if I told him it’s for the good of the church.”

“All of this has to do with
him
, doesn’t it? He’s the reason we’re getting rid of Paul, right? I mean, when it comes down to it,
he
is the one who wants Paul gone, right?”

“Actually, I want that incessant windbag gone, but in the big picture, yes. But as far as we’re concerned, it has to do with that scroll and all of the power we will obtain when we have it.”

“He’ll want it,” Joseph said matter-of-factly.

“Of course he will. He has wanted it for two thousand years.”

Joseph studied the other man. “You aren’t planning to let him have it, are you?”

“It was given to the disciple John, supposedly by God Himself. Can you imagine the power that thing holds? I can. And it’s here, now. Not some promise of some fairy tale that we may someday see if we’re good, deny ourselves all of the riches of this world, live like paupers, and put every other human being’s needs before ourselves. If
he
gets the scroll first, he wins. We can’t let that happen. The Brotherhood
will
have that scroll.”

“But what about
him?
What will he do to us?”

“He’s not God, Joseph. What can he do? He’s been trying to get his hands on the thing for two thousand years. Nothing. I’ve been at it for less than twenty years, and it’s within my grasp. Now, who do you think is better at this, me or him?”

“We’ve pledged to serve him.”

Wickham slammed his fist down hard on the table. “I serve no one but myself!”

A few people turned their heads to look at the commotion.

“Do you really think that we, with all of our technology, resources, and ability, can’t outwit some college girl?” Wickham asked. “She has no idea what she has. We do. Even if she did know what she has, she doesn’t know what it’s for. When we have it, we will find out its secrets. And then we will have its power.”

“He scares me, Louis. The other night, in the alley, he showed me things I could never have imagined. I could feel his power—power that he promised me if I serve him.”

Wickham stood and pulled his billfold from his jacket. He grabbed some cash and threw it on the table. Throwing Joseph a disgusted look, he threatened, “If I find that scroll, you’d better fear
me.”

J
onathan pulled the car up in front of the small brownstone. This was a semidecent neighborhood. Someone would surely notice a guy with a bloody tourniquet wrapped around his leg hobbling down the street. An older woman walking her dog passed by. She didn’t even turn her head to see who was in the dust-covered sedan. Judging by the way she was dressed, he figured she was probably too snooty to acknowledge anyone unless they were wearing Gucci or Prada and sporting a Rolex. Even the little dog was wearing a neck scarf and a sun visor with little rhinestones.

Jonathan snorted and mumbled to himself, “Some people …” He waited for the pair to pass then opened the door. He swung his leg out onto the pavement and pushed himself up, using the steering wheel for leverage. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. It did a pretty good job of hiding the bum leg.