The Loch Ness Legacy (19 page)

“And if we find the monster first?”

“Then not only do we have to kill it,” she said with a shrug, “we have to make sure its corpse will never be found.”

WORLD NEWS

Rocket Attacks Depleting Iron Dome Missile Shield

By RIMONA BENESCH

June 20, TEL AVIV – The Israeli defense system known as Iron Dome has been so active over the past week that a shortage of missiles could render it ineffective in a matter of days, according to sources in the military. If that happens, Israel’s major population areas would be at the mercy of a massive rocket and artillery bombardment.

Some officers in the Israeli Defense Force are concerned that depletion of the missiles is the goal of the repeated attacks. Iron Dome is also an effective anti-aircraft system. If it is not available to defend against incoming airstrikes, they fear that Egyptian and Syrian forces—supplied with advanced Chinese and Russian weapons by sympathetic countries in the Muslim world—will be emboldened to launch an all-out invasion.

As rumors of Muslim leaders dying from a poison supposedly administered by Mossad agents continue to spread, the threat of just such an invasion is not being taken lightly. Speculation continues unabated into the cause of the illness, but doctors are still at a loss for how to treat the deadly affliction. If no cure is found, sources say that the affected countries will feel obligated to strike back against the perceived aggressor.

Israeli Prime Minister Elijah Alfandari has issued a statement that any incursion will be met with massive force and did not rule out retaliating against countries supporting the invasion, raising the risk that such a conflict could expand to a war engulfing the entire Middle East.

When the RER C train pulled into the Chateau de Versailles station, it was already five in the afternoon. Rather than struggle through the clogged Paris traffic, Tyler decided that they’d reach the palace faster using rapid transit. Brielle had purchased a book on Versailles at the airport and buried her nose in it for the entire train ride.

Normally, Miles would have been happy for them to use a company jet for their air travel, but one was in Afghanistan and the other was undergoing maintenance. Instead, they took a late-night nonstop flight to Charles de Gaulle airport, while Alexa and Grant flew to London Heathrow. Upon landing, Tyler had gotten the message that the two of them were on their own train to Cambridge. He and Brielle stopped only to leave their bags at a hotel, where the concierge gave them complimentary tickets to Versailles.

The plan was simple. Tyler and Brielle would find the statue of Apollo and get the exact dimensions of his foot by taking a photograph of it next to a ruler. Tyler would then email the photo to Grant, who would print out the photo at the appropriate size and overlay it on the copy of Laroche’s note to get the next clue. Alexa would figure out what they were looking for in the library, and hopefully that would describe how to find the Loch Ness monster. He also had Miles divert two Gordian GhostMantas intended for a North Sea oil rig to Loch Ness.

Simple, but as Tyler went through the plan in his mind, it sounded ridiculous. When he’d presented Special Agent Harris with the idea, she felt the same way. She acknowledged that the Nazi notebook was valuable and might provide some insights for the toxicology teams working on an antidote in Washington, London, and Frankfurt, but there was no way she was going to ask French or British authorities to help in the search for a mythological creature. She said she had neither the time nor the resources to go on a wild goose chase.

Harris even thought Laroche might have gone to these lengths to divert attention away from his own involvement. If he was in on the plot with Dunham, she might have double-crossed him, leading him to concoct his wild story. However, they wouldn’t be able to get answers from him any time soon. Doctors said he had neglected to take his blood pressure medication with him into the vault, and because of the ensuing stroke and brain swelling, they had no idea when or if he’d ever wake up.

Under most any other circumstances, Tyler would have agreed with Harris and not even considered pursuing this path. He’d seen some unbelievable things in his life, but his innate nature as a skeptic made the whole thing hard to swallow.

This was one time, however, that his logical side was kicked to the curb. Other than Alexa’s three-second video, there was nothing concrete to suggest that something unknown to science was alive in Loch Ness, no matter how hard Zim and Dunham were trying to stop them. If that’s all he had, Tyler wouldn’t be in France now.

Instead, Tyler was here because he was clinging to hope. His best friend was dying. If having a shot at saving Grant meant believing in an outrageous story, he’d need to have a little faith. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate.

Tyler took a deep breath and focused himself on their work.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Tyler asked Brielle.

She looked up from her book. “Yes. The statue of the Baths of Apollo was originally in the Cave of Thetis, an indoor bathhouse. Now it’s in one of the twelve
bosquets
, or groves. They’re rectangular stands of trees with paths cut through them to clearings, statuary, and fountains. The statues will be roped off, so we’ll have to cross illicitly to get close enough for the photo.”

“We’ll have to wait a while until the grove is clear of tourists.”

“It may not be much of a problem. At this time of day, more people will be exiting than entering.”

The train lurched to a stop, and they had to jostle their way through the passengers waiting to get on. Brielle was right about people leaving; the station was jammed with tourists spent from their day at the palace.

They made their way through the station and turned right when they got outside. According to Brielle, it was a short walk to the chateau. No clouds were present to blot out the warm afternoon sun. A T-shirt and jeans were all Tyler needed, while Brielle wore cargo shorts and a loose-fitting top. They fit right in with the tourists.

Seeing so many couples and families returning from a day of sightseeing, holding hands and laughing, Tyler felt the urge to put his arm around Brielle’s shoulder. But considering the task at hand, it didn’t seem right.

“I haven’t been to Versailles in twenty years,” Brielle said. “Came here with my parents when I was in high school. It’s a magical place. Elegant. Inspiring. I always thought I’d return someday on a romantic holiday.”

Tyler smiled. “This doesn’t qualify?”

“I don’t know if that statement makes you a hopeless romantic or just hopeless. Have you been here before?”

“No. Karen always wanted to come here, but she died before it happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I guess we both thought we’d be here under different circumstances.”

Silence descended. Ever since Tyler plucked Brielle out of Lake Shannon, they’d been all business. Even the flight to Paris had consisted of little more than planning and sleep. After the Eiffel Tower incident, Tyler never thought he’d see Brielle again, let alone three days later. They’d said their final goodbyes and gone their separate ways at the hotel expecting that would be the end of it. It was like sleeping with someone during a spring break fling and then returning to college to find out your one-night stand lived in the same dorm.

“I went out with a gentile once,” Brielle said. “Dated, I mean. So I’ve been down that road before. It doesn’t end well.”

“For whom?”

“For either of us. No sense in trying again, although it does seem like someone is determined to put us together.” She turned to him. “Do you believe in fate?”

Tyler shook his head. “I like having a little more control over my life than that.”

“What
do
you believe in?”

“Living in the moment. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, you never know when your time is up.”

“You mean, dying is just bad luck?”

“If you want to call it that. But I like to think of luck as the place where preparation meets opportunity.”

Brielle chuckled at that. “And what an opportunity we have before us now. I’m back at Versailles because of a quest to find Nessie so that some boffin in a lab can extract an antitoxin to a Nazi superweapon.”

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds absurd. Are you buying into Laroche’s letter?”

“Dunham thinks the Loch Ness monster is important, so there must be something to it. Whether that means we find Nessie or something else, I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out together.”

They rounded the corner and there ahead of them loomed one of the largest residences ever built, the chateau of Versailles. At over 700,000 square feet, it is fourteen times the size of Bill Gates’ enormous mansion in Seattle. The gardens are even larger, encompassing two thousand acres.

As they approached, passing a statue of Louis XIV astride a horse, Tyler couldn’t take his eyes from the ornate stone and brick palace that encircled a gigantic cobbled courtyard. The façade was lavishly appointed with sculptures and adorned with gold filigree along the eaves of the slate roofs. Even the gate and fencing were gilt. Clearly Laroche had borrowed many of Versailles’s themes when designing his own estate.

Even at this late hour, a pack of visitors waited in line to get into the palace.

“We don’t have to get in line because we’re not going inside,” Brielle said, and then nodded to the left. “The entrance to the gardens is over here.”

They went through an alcove and presented their tickets. On weekdays the gardens were accessible for free, but on weekends there was a fee because tourists were treated to the Grandes Eaux, the only days the fountains were in operation.

They emerged into the rear courtyard, which was perhaps even more spectacular than the front. Opulent gardens and forests stretched as far as Tyler could see. The terrace’s gravel and sand hardpan, split by two huge pools, gave way to steps that led down to a jetting fountain. Past the fountain was a promenade that extended along a manicured lawn to another fountain and then the Grand Canal. Nearly a mile long and bisected by an equally long basin, the wide pool was dotted with rowboats for hire.

Tyler wasn’t prepared for the number of vehicles that were flitting about the gardens. In addition to the smattering of utility carts used by the gardeners, trams were shuttling people between the main palace, the Grand Trianon where the king kept his private residence, and the Petit Trianon, where Marie Antoinette once lived. Rental golf carts whizzed by, and in the distance he could see people on bicycles.

A Mozart concerto lilted from hidden speakers to accompany the waterworks. If it weren’t for the modern clothes and vehicles, Tyler might have thought they’d been transported back to the eighteenth century.

Brielle consulted a map in her book. She looked up and pointed at a grove to the right. “The entrance should be on the other side.”

As they went around the pools, Tyler looked up to see people on the second floor of the palace staring down at the view.

“That’s the Hall of Mirrors.”

“I’ve heard about it,” Tyler said. “I’d like to see it someday.”

“Maybe someday I’ll bring you back.” Brielle immediately looked away, as if she regretted saying it, and Tyler pretended not to hear her.

They got to a path between the groves, and as soon as they entered, the clamor from the hordes of tourists faded. The closest person was a quarter-mile down the pathway. To be isolated so quickly was surprising, but Tyler supposed that few people explored off the main paths. Only the sound of the music remained.

He and Brielle walked between the groves, which were blocked by green fencing to discourage adventurous visitors from diving into the thick foliage. It didn’t stop a calico cat from squeezing out through a small break in the fencing. The cat must have been startled by Tyler’s footsteps because it darted back into the grove through the same hole.

“The king’s pets?” Tyler asked.

“There are neighborhoods all around the park. It’s probably looking for a tasty mouse.” After a minute more of walking, Brielle said, “It should be the next left.”

At the turn, they stopped abruptly. A closed iron gate blocked their path, marked with a sign: “
Le Bosquet des Bains d’Apollon est fermé
.” The English translation was below: “The Grove of Apollo’s Baths is closed.”

“Did your book say anything about this?” Tyler asked.

“No. They must be doing maintenance.”

Tyler examined the gate, seven feet high and topped with short spikes. “Ready for a little breaking and entering?”

Brielle looked both ways. “We’ll be in and out in five minutes. No one will ever know.”

“Assuming no one’s working in there.”

“On a Saturday? Come on.”

She put her foot on the cross bar and started climbing.

* * *

Lyle Ponder watched his targets climb over the gate to the Baths of Apollo and took out his phone. Norm Lonegan waited behind him.

The call was answered on the first ring.

“Yeah?” Zim said.

“They just went into a closed area.”

“You sure it’s them?”

“Positive.”

“Think you can get them without being seen?”

“No problem,” Ponder said, as he felt for the small gun in his jacket pocket. He had been watching for Locke and Cohen in case they showed up and spotted them from his observation point outside the main gate. He was relieved to see them head straight for the gardens; if they had gone into the palace unexpectedly, he and Lonegan wouldn’t have been able to pass through the metal detectors.

“Then do it,” Zim said. “By the time the police figure out where the gunshots came from, they’ll have bigger things to worry about.”

Marlo Dunham sat in a black Range Rover outside the University of Cambridge main library. If Locke or any of his group came, it would be to this building. Most likely it would be Grant Westfield and Alexa Locke, as Zim had just called to tell her that Tyler and Brielle Cohen had been sighted at Versailles. Zim was prepared to destroy the Apollo statue, knowing exactly where to place the explosive because of the three-dimensional computer rendering Laroche had acquired so that he could build a duplicate fountain on his estate.