Blood Relics (A James Acton Thriller, #12) (37 page)

Outside the Basilica of Sant’Agostino, Rome, Italy
Present Day

Kaufman rarely felt fear, but he had to admit there was a slight
tightness in his chest that some might interpret as such, but he thought it was
more likely disappointment.

Disappointment
in himself.

He had
screwed up, there was no other way to put it, and now his employer, a man he
only knew as Dietrich, had called for an update.

“Something’s
wrong, sir. The phone went quiet for almost five minutes, absolutely no sounds.
The Vatican Inspector General, Giasson, read our last text message and knows
something is going—”

“You
mean
your
last text message,” replied Dietrich. “You were foolish to
send it.”

“Yes,
sir.” There was no point in denying it. He shouldn’t have sent it, but
hindsight was always twenty-twenty and he had weighed the risks in sending it
when he did, siding with the dramatic chilling effect the text would have on
his targets. He hadn’t anticipated the text being read by the man sitting in
the front seat of the car. “They refused to answer any questions, and at the
time I was confident they weren’t aware of the software we planted on his
phone, but now with this unexplained silence, I think they just might.”

“So
we’ve lost our best source of intel thanks to your screw up.”

“They
don’t seem to be shy about talking, sir. In fact, they’ve just discovered where
they think the body is.”

“Why
didn’t you inform me?”

“They
just made the discovery moments before you called. I was prepping an email.”

“Where,
dammit, where?”

“Some
place called Mantua. I Googled it and it’s in northern Italy, about four to
five hours from here by car.”

The
front doors of the basilica opened and Giasson exited along with several of his
men followed by the professor and the students. Two cars pulled up and the
entourage climbed inside, Giasson scanning the area, his eyes coming to rest on
him.

“Oh
shit!”

Kaufman shoved
in the brake, pressing the button on the dash to start the car as Giasson began
to shout, pointing at the car and waving at his men to advance. He slammed his
car in gear, cranking the wheel as he checked his side mirror for traffic.
Removing his foot from the brake he shoved down on the gas pedal, sending the
car surging into the light traffic as he reached for the Uzi 9mm on his
passenger seat. Grabbing it, he pointed it out the window and squeezed the
trigger, spraying several dozen rounds within a few seconds at the pavement,
sending his pursuers scattering for cover.

Tossing
the weapon back on the seat, he made a hard left and lost himself in the
traffic.

Oh
shit!

He
grabbed his phone from between his legs and put it to his ear.

“—is
going on?”

“Sorry,
sir, they made me and I had to make a quick exit.”

“Did I
hear gunfire?”

“Yes,
sir. Don’t worry, no injuries.”

“I don’t
give a damn about that. You’ve been made and they know about our
eavesdropping.”

“Not to
worry, sir.”

“Don’t
tell me not to worry! It’s my father’s life that’s on the line here!”

“I’m
sorry, sir, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. What I meant was that they
made
me
. My partner is still in position. They’re not going anywhere
without us knowing exactly where.”

Kruger Residence, Outside Paris, France

“I have to talk to you.”

Laura
opened her eyes, Dr. Heinrich’s whispered tone suggesting urgency. She felt
around the bed for the control, finally finding it and pushing the button to
put her in a more raised position as the doctor stepped back outside of the
curtains, as if checking to make sure they were alone. “What is it?”

“I think
we’re leaving soon,” he said, checking her bandage. “I don’t know what they
intend to do with you, but…”

He
didn’t finish his sentence, but she was pretty sure what he wanted to say.

He
feared the worst.

He had
already expressed his fears that Dietrich was unstable and it was clear he had
no trouble with killing.

And
if they’re leaving…

Was she
a loose end that needed to be tied up?

Heinrich
reached into the pocket of his lab coat. “Here’s your phone. I’m going to put
it under your pillow.” He held up a set of car keys. “This is the key to my
car. It’s parked at the back of the house. A green Fiat. You can’t miss it,
it’s the cheapest thing there. If things look bad, go out the door into the
hallway. Go to your right to the end of the hall, down the stairs to the ground
floor, then turn right. Follow the hall about half way, there’s a door there.”

Laura
shifted her body as a test of her wound and winced. “I don’t know if I can make
it that far.”

“You
might have to. I’ve programmed the GPS in my car for the nearest hospital. It’s
not far, maybe fifteen minutes. If you can get yourself there, even if you tear
open your wound, they’ll be able to save you.”

Laura’s
heart was pounding hard now, his fear infectious. It was clear he truly felt
this was her only option, but she didn’t understand why he would be going to
such risks to help her. “What will they do to you if they find out you’ve
helped me?”

He shook
his head. “I’ve been ordered to move Herr Kruger and I’m not sure he’ll survive
much longer. If he dies, I’m probably dead.” He sighed. “This has all come on
too suddenly for poor Dietrich. He wasn’t ready.” He pushed the phone and the
key under her pillow. “Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Stay awake if
you can.”

Laura
nodded, reaching out to grab his arm as he turned away. “Why are you doing
this?”

Heinrich
patted her hand then squeezed it. “Because I took an oath to save lives, not
take them.”

Church of Santa Maria del Gradaro, Mantua, Italy

“I’m afraid you’ve come a long way for nothing.”

Acton
frowned, the attitude of the priest frustrating, he having made them wait
almost half an hour before ‘gracing’ them with his presence.

He was
the complete opposite of Father Albano who had been a joy to work with.

This
one gives priests a bad name.

“As I
tried to explain—”

Once
again Father Ricardo cut him off. “Yes, yes, you’re looking for the body of
Saint Longinus. And as I have told you, he is not here. Yes, this church was
built on the very ground where he is thought to have been buried two thousand
years ago, but I can assure you,
if
he is here, his body has been long
lost. The church was built
on top
of where it was thought he was buried.
On. Top. Even if it were true that he
was
actually buried here, you’d
never be able to get to the body.”

Acton
sucked in a long, slow breath, calming himself. “As I’ve tried to—”

“I’m
sorry, but I really don’t have—”

“His
Holiness sends his regards, and would appreciate your cooperation in this
matter.”

Giasson’s
words took the arrogant wind out of Father Ricardo’s sails. “His Holiness?”

Giasson
nodded. “Yes. He has personally approved this research expedition. I’m certain
he would expect your full cooperation.”

“Oh of
course, of course, absolutely. I meant no disrespect, it’s just that I deal
with this a dozen times a week, pilgrims finding out on the Internet that Longinus
is buried here, when he is
not
, and it just gets, well, frustrating.”

“I can
understand that,” replied Acton. “What if I told you we’re not looking for the
body of Longinus?”

“But you
said—”

“If
you’d let me finish, I’d have told you we were looking for the body of
Tiberius.”

Father
Ricardo’s eyebrows rose up his forehead as his jaw dropped. “Tiberius,” he muttered,
repeating it several times before spinning on his heel and rushing deeper into
the church.

“Should
we follow him?” asked Terrence.

Acton held
out his hand. “I’m thinking ‘yes’.”

They
quickly followed the spry priest through the chapel and out a side door, lush
green greeting them, the late afternoon sun still warm on the skin despite the
cool temperatures. They found the priest standing in front of a stone marker on
the ground, the writing on it almost worn away from years of weather. It was
one of about a dozen in a row along the outer wall.

The
priest turned to Acton, all signs of arrogance and impatience wiped clean. “Why
do you seek the grave of Tiberius?”

Acton
pulled the rubbing he had taken of the tablet buried with the body in Rome from
his satchel. “We found this in the Basilica of Sant’Agostino.”

The
priest eagerly read it, the significance not lost on him as his curled finger
tapped against his lips. “Oh my, oh my.” He paused, looking at the marker. “Oh
my.” He looked up at Acton. “Basilica of Sant’Agostino, where he was rumored to
have been buried?”

Acton
nodded, smiling. “Yes. We found a record that they had the body, but later discovered
it wasn’t Longinus, instead it was a man named Tiberius. We found the body in
the catacombs. This tablet was in with the body.”

“And you
came here.” His words were whispered, he clearly in awe at the significance of
what this discovery might mean. He looked down at the marker. “You’re
suggesting that rather than the body of Tiberius being buried here, it is
actually Saint Longinus himself?”

Acton looked
down at the marker, the name Tiberius barely visible. He felt his pulse quicken
in excitement as he realized he might actually be standing on Longinus’ grave.
He looked at the priest and smiled, nodding. “We think so. With your
permission—”

“Of
course! Of course! We dig!”

CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

“I’ve got that guest list, boss!” Marc Therrien waved his tablet as
he stepped into Leroux’s office. “I just emailed it to you.” He dropped into a
chair, his fingers flying over the screen as Leroux checked his email.

“Have
you begun running them?”

“Yup.
It’s quite the list though. Hundreds.”

Leroux
nodded, scanning the list quickly. “We should eliminate the women.”

“Never!”

Leroux
looked at Therrien, puzzled for a second at his outburst, then chuckled,
turning back to his screen.

“And he
had a German accent, so let’s just see if we can find…” His eyes flew down the
list, coming to rest on one of the names. “Here’s one. Dietrich Kruger, Vice
President of Kruger Pharmaceuticals.”

Therrien’s
fingers tapped away and moments later he was holding up his tablet. “Kruger
Pharmaceuticals, based in Paris, France, moved almost twenty years ago from
Germany.”