Blood Relics (A James Acton Thriller, #12) (32 page)

He held
out his hand and saw the red beam of a laser scope play across his skin for a
moment. His head dropped as he looked at his chest, the bead dancing on his
crisp white shirt.

The sequence
of events was strange, part of him certain he heard the vehicle squeal away
before he actually felt the impact, but he knew that wasn’t right. What
was
certain was the pain wasn’t really what he had expected, the shot hitting him
in the heart, the vital muscle torn open as the bullet pierced his skin,
shattering a rib, sending shards of bone off in every direction to cause even
more damage.

He
dropped to his knees, the phone clattering to the interlocking brick porch as
his arms sagged to his sides, his chin on his chest as he continued to stare at
the rapidly increasing red stain, the hole made by the bullet so tiny it was
hard to believe the damage it had done.

He
gasped for breath but could feel his body failing him, his gasps now short,
rapid inhalations, growing more infrequent with each quick intake. Tipping
over, he fell on his side, his face slamming against the cool stone as bright
spots began to flicker in front of him, his breaths now seconds apart as his
mind tried desperately to hang on for one last moment of lucidity.

He
focused on his rose bushes.

And
wondered who would take care of them.

Sapienza University, Rome, Italy

James Acton stood impatiently outside the lab where their documents
were being analyzed by some of the most advanced scanners in the world. It had
been this very spot where he and Laura had stood when the document buried with
a Templar knight discovered under the Vatican had been read for the first time
in nearly a thousand years.

And it
had led to chaos worldwide.

Today
the only life he was concerned about was that of his wife. Terrence stood
beside him, his hand resting on Jenny’s shoulder, she having pushed a chair up
to the glass. He glanced at her rather obvious baby bump and smiled.

One
of these days.

He and Laura
had been discussing children for some time, and with her now working in the
United States and both of them under the same roof, it was finally a
possibility. And having a child would mean little adventures like this would
have to end, though it seemed even going on vacation now was wrought with peril
for them.

China!
What a nightmare that turned out to be!

Having a
little boy or girl running around the house would definitely be a change of
pace, but a good one, one he was ready for. He loved gallivanting across the
globe, and if it weren’t for Laura’s predicament, this would be an incredibly
exciting time. If his hunch proved true, they might be about to find evidence
that one of the Apocryphal texts was actually accurate, and that the Roman
soldier Longinus did indeed exist.

Laura
would be loving this.

He took
a deep breath, fighting the tightness that threatened to trigger a bout of
anxiety when Vatican Inspector General Mario Giasson entered the room.

“Good
morning, Mario.”

“Professor.”

“Jim,
please.”

Giasson
smiled. “Jim.” He nodded toward the scientists on the other side of the glass.
“Anything yet?”

“They
just started. They’ve prepped the first document I want them to examine and are
scanning it now. We’re trying to see what was scratched out.”

“Do you
think they’ll be able to?”

Acton
nodded. “As long as it wasn’t done at the same time—meaning the same ink would
have mixed together and dried at the same rate leaving probably nothing
discernable—then there’s a very good chance.”

“You
sound optimistic.”

Acton
frowned. “I have no choice.”

“To that
end, I just spoke with Hugh. Did you get his update last night?”

Acton
nodded. “Hopefully they’ll be able to find something in the data they pulled.”

“I think
they just might.”

Acton
looked at Giasson, finally tearing his eyes away from the screens displaying
the document. “Now
you’re
the one who sounds optimistic.”

“They
just found Karl Renner shot to death on his doorstep. He was packed, heading
for a private airstrip when he was shot.”

Acton’s
eyes popped wide as a feeling of exhilaration raced through him.

Innocent
men don’t run! And innocent men don’t get assassinated.

“Any
idea who did it?”

Giasson
shook his head. “Not yet, but it’s early on. I just got the word on the way
here.”

“Look!”
Acton turned to see Terrence pointing at one of the screens, various filters
being applied to the scanned image, the dark band of heavy ink quickly changing
colors and shades as the computer flipped through thousands of different scanning
wavelengths.

“Oh my
God,” whispered Jenny as she rose from her chair, pressing against the glass.

“It’s
working!” Acton leaned closer as writing began to appear, faint at first, but
as the experts behind the glass continued to manipulate the scanner, tweaking
the settings as some wavelengths improved things and others made things worse,
the handwritten words slowly took form.

“Does
that say ‘Sancti’?” asked Terrence, squinting for a better look.

Adrenaline
rushed through Acton’s veins as he grabbed Giasson by the shoulder, shaking
him. “It absolutely does.”

“Saint,”
gasped Giasson.

Acton
was mouthing out the letters following it, the handwriting still not clear,
though individual letters were. “That’s definitely an L, isn’t it?”

“It
looks like an L. And an O,” agreed Jenny.

Terrence
turned to Acton, his eyes wide with excitement, a smile spread across his face.
“It says Longinus, doesn’t it? Sancti Longinus!”

Acton
was still shaking Giasson by the shoulder, there no doubt in his mind now, the
hand written words recorded by some long forgotten records keeper centuries
before, were now clearly displayed on the monitors.

Sancti
Longinus.

“You
found him!” exclaimed Giasson, turning toward Acton. “Congratulations,
Professor.”

Acton
shook his head in disagreement, though there was no suppressing his smile. “No,
we haven’t found
him
, but we’ve found why he was
thought
to have
been moved here almost five hundred years ago.”

“So what
now?” asked Terrence.

“Now we
go back to the basilica and see if we can find the actual body this document
refers to. Somehow they found out it wasn’t Longinus and updated their records.
That could be because they discovered something with the body that proved it
wasn’t him, they received some sort of documentation after the fact proving it
wasn’t, or they found the actual body elsewhere.”

Jenny
returned to her seat, holding her stomach. “If there was some documentation,
wouldn’t it have been with the records we found?”

“Possibly,
but any such documentation would have his name figured prominently in it and we
know that the Vatican’s own historian didn’t find any references to the name.”

Terrence
perched on the chair, putting his hand on the back of his wife’s neck, giving
it a gentle massage. “So
if
there was documentation, then it has either
been lost or destroyed over the years.”

“
If.
”
Jenny moaned at Terrence’s ministrations. “We know for certain now that there
was
a body in the catacombs once thought to be Saint Longinus. What would they have
done with the body if they found out it wasn’t him?”

Acton
shrugged. “There’s probably little doubt the person was Catholic, so they would
have treated the body with respect, regardless. And considering the fact that
there appeared to be many bodies listed of relative commoners, I’d say there’s
a good chance they kept it.”

“If they
were going to get rid of it, wouldn’t they have indicated that on the document
when they were updating it to say it wasn’t him?”

Acton
turned to Jenny, a slight smile on his face, her conclusion so obvious it had
been missed by all including him. “Of course they would have.” His smile turned
into a grin. “Up for getting a little dirty?”

Both
Terrence and Jenny’s heads bobbed eagerly.

“Then
let’s go.”

CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

Chris Leroux had a smile on his face, Judy Garland’s Good Morning
playing on his mental radio, not because he had watched Babes in Arms  but
purely because it had been used in a Viagra commercial at some point.

In other
words, he had got some last night.

And this
morning.

He
loved
when Sherrie came back from assignment.

“Hey,
boss, you’re looking chipper.”

Leroux
blanched as he looked at Marc Therrien.

Is it
that obvious?

“Good
morning,” he managed, unlocking his office door. “Any success?”

“Some,
but there’s been news. Not sure if you’ve read your flash updates yet.”

Leroux
shook his head. “No, I was, umm, busy this morning.”

“Alright
boss!” Therrien raised a hand for a high five, then thought better of it after
Leroux’s shocked look. “Umm, sorry, boss. Anyway, Karl Renner is dead.”

Leroux
stopped, his eyebrows rising as he turned toward Therrien. “Dead?”

“Yeah,
looks like a professional hit. Single shot to the chest. On the man’s doorstep
no less.”

Leroux
hung his jacket on the hook behind his door then sat down, logging into his
computer. “Any leads on who did it?”

“None
yet, it just happened a few hours ago. But it looks like he was heading to
parts unknown.”

“What do
you mean?”

“Car was
loaded with suitcases and he was apparently heading for a private airport for a
flight to the French Riviera.”

“Maybe
he was going on vacation.”

“Don’t
think so. Everything was last minute, flight just booked this morning. I think
he knew we were onto him and he was planning on disappearing.”

“And
somebody didn’t like that.”

“Apparently
not,” said Therrien as he sat in one of the office chairs. “But that doesn’t
really make much sense, does it? If he’s disappearing, isn’t that what we were
expecting his men were going to be doing as well? Why would somebody shoot him
for that? If he disappears, then he can’t be interrogated.”

Leroux
logged into his secure email, quickly scanning the update on Renner. “Maybe his
plans and theirs have nothing to do with each other. Maybe they were just tying
up loose ends.”

“But
this isn’t over. Killing him now sort of confirms he was involved, doesn’t it?
Now we’ll focus on him, and since he’s much more high profile than his men, we
might just be able to track things back to the source.”

“I don’t
think that will be happening, at least not yet.”

They
both turned as Sonya Tong poked her head into the office. She was one of
Leroux’s best analysts and had been part of the nightshift team tasked with
following the money.

He was
also pretty certain she was sweet on him, despite Sherrie being clearly in the
picture.

It was
kind of flattering, though awkward.

“What makes
you say that?” he asked, trying to avoid eye contact, he having
zero
experience with office crushes other than his own.

Tong nodded
toward his computer. “I just sent you the update. It took a little doing but we
gained access to the bank files of that employee who was sending his salary to
Switzerland—”

“Already?
Excellent work!”

Tong blushed.

Uh
oh, easy on the compliments.

“Thanks,
Mr. Leroux.” Flustered, she fumbled for her train of thought.