The Guardian (34 page)

Both men sat in the middle of the floor.

“What do you want—”

Christopher stopped him in midsentence. “Rule number two: you don’t talk unless asked a question. Otherwise, I shoot one of you and the other one tells me what I want to know.” He looked quizzically at them. “Do you see a pattern developing here?”

Both men nodded.

“Okay. First, introductions. Names, both of you.”

“Frick.”

“Frack.”

Christopher rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s brilliant. Fine. Who wants to tell me why you are following a pretty young American girl around?”

Neither of the men answered.

“Rule number three: if I ask a question and neither one of you answers, I’ll shoot one of you and ask the other one—which in effect is breaking rule number one, ‘cause I already told you I don’t like repeating myself.” He pulled the hammer back on his gun and took aim at the man sitting to his left.

“Stop! Wait!” Frick pleaded with desperation.

Christopher lowered his gun.

“We were just supposed to follow her. That’s it.”

Christopher raised his pistol and fired. He hit Frick square in the shoulder. The man screamed. Frack started shouting.

“He told you, you lunatic! We are just supposed to follow her. That’s it!”

Christopher turned his attention over to Frack. “Yes, but that’s not what I asked, is it? I asked you
why
you were following her. Not
if
you were following her.”

He raised his pistol and shot Frick again in the other shoulder. Again the scream filled the room. “Now why are you two following the American and her friend?”

Frick was in shock. His eyes rolled back in his head, which was bobbing back and forth. He looked as if he would pass out at any given second. Frack sat there motionless, staring down his adversary.

“We were paid to follow her,” he finally said. “By whom?” Nobody answered.

Christopher shot Frick above the left knee. This time the scream was slightly weaker. He was losing a lot of blood and was only semiconscious.

“I can’t tell you,” Frack answered in a pitiful whine.

“You’d better,” Christopher said. “Your friend here doesn’t look like he’s in much shape to do any talking. That leaves you. And it’s going to be quite difficult for you to tell me anything when I get done with him and start on you.”

“He’ll kill us if I tell you!” Frack shouted.

“I will kill you if you don’t.”

“Then go ahead,” Frack said, defeated. “We’re dead either way.”

“Last chance,” Christopher offered. There was no reply.

Christopher was many things. A murderer wasn’t one of them. He had killed in the line of duty, sure. But to take a man’s life purely out of choice—he couldn’t do it. He’d put these two clowns out of commission for a long time. There was a hospital just around the corner, and he could make sure they would get the medical attention they needed. One thing he’d learned: a man who thought he was already dead would not divulge any secrets. It was pointless to interrogate these men any further.

At the same time, he couldn’t afford either of these men communicating with their boss. That meant he had to inflict more pain and damage to them. He hated the thought of it, but Anna’s life could be in danger. And it might be the only way of keeping her safe. He would have to make sure that neither of these two men would be able to talk or write for a good long time. That meant breaking fingers and jawbones.

He pursed his lips and walked over to the one who’d been telling him everything.

“You’re right,” he said, “you’re both dead men. Only I’m not the one who’s going to kill you. I’ll leave that to your boss.”

He turned the gun around in his hand so that he was holding it by the barrel and raised it over his head. He swung down, knocking the man in the back of the head, rendering him unconscious. He pulled out his phone and pushed the speed dial.

“I need a car here, quick. Got to get these two to a hospital.”

T
he room was dimly lit, and that was good because Anna felt a headache coming on.

“Who are they?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” the woman answered. “Christopher is interrogating them as we speak. That’s why we didn’t see them following you.”

“He’s here? Christopher?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought—I mean I knew he was sending a team, but I didn’t know he was coming himself.”

The woman smiled. “We all loved your grandfather, Anna. There’s not much any one of us wouldn’t have done for him. And right now that means taking proper care of you. So yes, Christopher’s here. And it’s a good thing too, love. He’s the one who spotted your tail.”

“Could be the same people that followed us in that other plane,” Anna thought out loud.

“Could be.” The woman stuck out her hand. “My name’s Patrice.”

Anna shook the woman’s hand. “This is Jason.”

Jason stood and greeted the woman. “Thank you, and I’m sorry. I should’ve seen the tail. I wasn’t looking hard enough.”

Patrice smiled and said in her thick cockney accent, “It’s okay, love. I’ve been doing this a long time, and even I wasn’t sure. It was Christopher, it was. He’s the best I’ve ever seen.”

“So what happens now?” Jason asked.

“Now we get you two out of here and figure out what’s going on with those two bozos that were following you. We’ll probably take you back to England for the time being.”

Anna was already shaking her head. “No. No way. We have something we have to do in”—she checked her watch—”less than six hours. We’re not going back to England. Have any of you heard from Hale?”

Patrice looked away.

“Patrice, please. What have you heard?”

She lifted her head to meet Anna’s gaze. There was a sad look on her face. She just shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, love.”

Anna didn’t say anything. She sat back down with a blank look on her face. She could feel the tears welling up inside her.

Jason put his hand on her shoulder and looked at Patrice. “What happened?”

Patrice sighed. “All I know is that they found all three of them in a very bad part of town. They were all shot, and it was made to look like some kind of drug deal gone bad.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Jason said. “Aren’t the authorities doing anything about it? Aren’t they trying to find out what really happened?”

“I guess not,” Patrice said.

Anna finally stood and moved toward the door. “Take us back to the hotel.”

“We’re supposed to wait on Christopher,” Patrice objected.

“I said take us back to the hotel,” Anna snapped.

Jason moved to where she was and placed his hands on her shoulders and said almost in a whisper, “Anna, we should wait on Christopher. Come sit back down. Please.”

Anna slumped to the floor and began crying. Jason knelt down with her and held her in his arms.

“How many more, Jason? How many more have to die because of me?”

“Anna,” he lifted her chin, “it’s not because of you. No one has died because of you. These are sick, evil people, whoever it is doing this. They couldn’t care less about you or anyone connected with you. You know what they want. And it’s not you.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Look,” he said as he helped her back to her feet, “we’re very close. We need to meet Benjamin tonight. Soon all of this will be over. And then you can do whatever you’ve dreamed of. You’re rich. Remember?”

She half smiled.

“Come on. Let’s go sit down and wait on Christopher to get back. He’ll tell us what he knows, and we can get on with this. Look at the bright side. He’s here and has caught some of them. Maybe he can tell us who they are and how to avoid them. Or even better, maybe how to beat them. For good.”

King David Hotel, Jerusalem

Wickham sat in a small chair in the lobby with his back to the front

door. He held the newspaper in front of him and pretended to read. He’d been pretending for nearly two hours. He was beginning to feel self-conscious. He had been up and walked around the lobby and into the gift shop several times already. Hopefully no one had taken notice, or if they did, would think he was just a tired old man trying to waste the day away.

He was about to give up for a while when a young couple walked in. He probably would’ve ignored them altogether if it hadn’t been for the grainy photograph that he held in front of the paper. From the back, the woman didn’t look like her at all. But when she turned to say something to the young man she was with, he knew he’d found his prize.

Casually he folded his paper and stood up. He needed to hurry. The couple was already a good twenty steps ahead of him. If he was going to make their elevator, he needed to move it.

He got there just as the doors were starting to close. He stuck his hand out, and the sensor immediately withdrew the doors back into the folds of the wall. He stepped on and moved to the back wall, looking only at the floor.

It was deadly quiet for the eight-floor ride. The elevator jolted to a stop. The doors opened, and the couple got off. Wickham followed, this time purposefully staying a good distance back. Still, the two young people didn’t talk. Someone might even think they didn’t know each other if it weren’t for the fact that they were holding hands.

Now that presented an interesting situation. Apparently Anna’s companion was more than just a friend. This could be a problem, or it could be a solution. He just had to figure out which.

They stopped in front of their door and used the key card to let themselves in. As their door opened, he turned his head away from them and passed them by. He was almost at the end of the

hall, so he went a few more steps and pulled out his own card. He stuck it in the slot in front of him. Of course it didn’t work, but by the time he tried it two more times—like anyone who has stayed in a room that many floors up and doesn’t want to go back down to the lobby—Anna and Jason were inside their room and he was in the clear.

He turned around and headed back for the elevators. Now he knew what room they were in. He didn’t know what good that information was to him, but it seemed like something he needed to know at the time. He got back on the elevator and pushed 3.

When he got back to his own room, a thought came to him. Could he pull it off? Of course he could. He was one of the most powerful men in the world. He sat down on the bed and flipped open his cell phone. He punched in the hotel number plus the room number.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the phone said. It was the girl.

“Anna, you don’t know me, but please, don’t hang up. My name is Cardinal Louis Wickham.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“I—I need to speak to you. It’s about Hale.”

“How did you know where I am?” she asked hesitantly.

“Anna, please let me explain. Hale came to me. He needed my help. There are some bad people in the Vatican. I’m sure you’ve already heard. Our beloved pope is dead.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. What about Hale?”

Wickham could hear in the background the young man talking now. He was asking her who it was and telling her to hang up the phone. Wickham could sense that she was considering doing what the young man had suggested.

“Anna, please listen to me. Don’t hang up. You are in great

danger. There are men in Jerusalem who are trying to kill you. Apparently you have something they want. I was trying to help him—Hale that is.”

“I’m going to go now,” Anna said.

He had to think fast. What was he to do? He couldn’t let this opportunity slip out of his hands.

“Anna, I know all about the scroll.” He blurted it out before he even had a chance to think what the ramifications would be. There was silence on the other end. But she was still there. Finally, she spoke.

“Go on.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Anna, I’m the secretary of state of the Vatican. I was Pope Paul’s closest confidant. There are some who think he was murdered for the information he held about the scroll. Unfortunately, there won’t be an autopsy. We’ll never know. The bottom line is, Paul knew he was dying. He trusted me. He told me everything he knew. Hale called me to set up a meeting. He never showed. I’m sure by now you’ve heard what happened and what the police are saying. It’s all nonsense, Anna. He and his team were good people. I want to help you. Nothing else.”

Again he held his breath. Had he said too much?

“How can you help?”

This time the young man with her was adamant. He could hear him telling her again to hang up the phone now. There seemed to be a discussion going on between them. It was very muffled. It sounded like she was covering the mouthpiece. Then there was a
click
. He thought that she had hung up on him at first. Then he heard an ambient noise. He was now on speakerphone. And this time it was the young man who was addressing him.

“Look,” he said, “I don’t know who you are or how you got in

touch with us, but let’s get one thing straight. You are not on the list of people we trust. Is that clear? Don’t call back here again.”

“Jason!” It was Anna. “Hang on a second. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

“Anna—”

“Jason! Please, just listen.”

Wickham began to feel light-headed. He’d been holding his breath again. He let it out with a
whoosh
. “Anna, we need to get you someplace safe.”

“I am safe.”

“You need to get out of Jerusalem.” “I have a security detail here. I’m safe.”

Well, there was something he wasn’t aware of. That could pose a problem. He’d deal with that later. Right now this wasn’t working. She was too stubborn. He needed to convince her to let him help her. It was too perfect. She had to. He thought as quickly as he could.

“Hale, your pilot, was one of the most skilled, trained men I’ve ever known. They got to him. And his team, Anna. This is not a joke.”

Again there was silence on the other line. “When are you leaving Jerusalem?” “Hopefully tonight. If everything goes right.” “What are you doing there?” “I can’t tell you.”

“Anna, please. You have to trust me. Just tell me what you are doing in Jerusalem. I can help you.”