The Templar's Secret (The Templar Series) (35 page)

BOOK: The Templar's Secret (The Templar Series)
4.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Heart in her throat, Edie helplessly watched the violent flurry.

Afraid that one of the elbow punches would connect, she frantically searched the small antechamber for something –
anything
– that she could use as a weapon. On the far side of the alcove there was a plain marble altar. Behind the altar, set in a niche, was a silver crucifix approximately eighteen inches tall. She charged across the room and snatched the cross by the base, intending to use it to bludgeon Calzada over the head. Hopefully, knock him unconscious. Or, at the very least, incapacitate him so that Caedmon could grab the gun still shoved into Calzada’s waistband.

Seized with a fierce sense of urgency, Edie pivoted towards the two struggling men. Just in time to see Calzada slam his boot heel against
Caedmon’s shinbone.

‘Christ!’

Gasping in pain, Caedmon stumbled backwards, enabling Calzada to wheel out of the chokehold and jerk his right wrist free.

In a blurred whirl, Calzada drew his weapon. A split second later, Edie
heard the attention-grabbing grind of metal on metal as he yanked the slide on the semi-automatic.

Grimacing,
Caedmon gathered himself to his full height.

Thank God he
could
stand
,
Edie thought, relieved. For a horrified moment, she’d thought that his leg had been broken. Immobilized with fear, she stood several feet away, the cross clutched to her chest. She had every reason to believe that retribution would be swiftly administered.

‘You tried to deceive me with your fucking bullshit!’ Lip curled, Calzada aimed the gun directly at
Caedmon’s head. ‘Do you know what will happen, English, if I pull the trigger?’


I believe the correct reply is a failure to thrive,’ Caedmon rasped. ‘But if you do that, you’ll never find the third plate. Unless you think that
Santiago Matamoros
will answer your prayers and lead you to the hiding place.’ Challenge issued, he returned Calzada’s sneer.

Edie held her breath. Caught on the end of a very sharp tenterhook, she prayed that the criterion for pulling the trigger was as unassailable as
Caedmon seemed to think.

To her surprise, Calzada yanked his head in her direction. ‘Put down the
crucifijo
. Then take off your sweater.’


What!?
’ She shook her head, mystified by the request.

‘You heard me, bitch!’

Edie flinched at the vicious epithet, unsure why the brute’s attention had suddenly focused on her.

Caedmon
held her gaze. ‘Do as he says, Edie.’

Bending at the waist, she carefully set the silver crucifix on the floor. That done, she shrugged out of the garment and passed it to the gun-toting brute, hoping that the lightweight silk sweater was the only piece of clothing that Calzada wanted.


Gracías
,’ the monster said with a lurid grin, licking his lips as he eyed her bare arms, now exposed in the sleeveless summer dress. Still holding the Beretta in his right hand, he pulled it close to his belly before draping the Kelly green sweater over his forearm, completely obscuring the gun. ‘No more fucking around,
cabrón.
You find that plate.
Comprende?

‘Perfectly,’
Caedmon replied, his face an impassive mask.

Edie stared at him, confused, uncertain why
Caedmon was still continuing the subterfuge.
Did he have an escape plan? Would he launch another assault? Or was he going to come clean and tell the truth about the third plate?


Let’s go.’ Calzada jutted his chin at the aisle on the other side of the antechamber. ‘And if either of you pulls any shit, I’ll shoot to kill. House of God be damned.’

Edie wordlessly stepped next to
Caedmon, wondering how they were going to pull off the impossible and find a copper plate that wasn’t hidden at Santiago de Compostela. The ruse had not only been thwarted, but now she feared that they’d navigated themselves into a dangerously precarious spot, their prospects of eluding Calzada dim. As in total blackout. Dark side of the moon.
How long could they continue the deception before Calzada caught on to the fact that the cathedral had been a red herring?

‘Steady on,’
Caedmon whispered as they made their way back to the nave.

She cast him a quick glance, unable to decipher the intention behind his glittering blue eyes.

Having just passed through the side aisle, the three of them were forced to stop in order to allow two robed men carrying a massive
botafumeiro
that dangled from a wooden pole supported on their shoulders to pass in front of them. The highly ornate censer – which resembled a gigantic silver lamp – emitted plumes of smoke, filling the air with the fused scents of frankincense, myrrh and Damascus rose. A heady mixture that caused Edie’s eyes to instantly water.

Calzada, standing directly behind them, began to hack, the thick smoke irritating his lungs.

I think he’s allergic to smoke.

That was Edie’s last cogent thought before she saw
Caedmon forcefully ram his elbow backwards into Calzada’s chin, catching the other man unawares in mid-cough.

Blood instantly spewed through the air, Calzada having bit his lip.

Which, in turn, caused him to pull the trigger on the gun hidden beneath the Kelly green sweater.

The deafening shot went wild, striking the
botafumeiro
. Hollering in Spanish, the censer bearers dropped their smoldering load, the silver vessel hitting the stone floor with a loud clamor.

Screams of terror immediately reverberated inside the cathedral, the gunshot inciting an uproar. As smoke and ash clouded
the air, pilgrims and tourists ran pell-mell. Edie stood transfixed, stunned by the disharmonic din of yelling, coughing and mournful wails. A torrential onslaught of sound and smell.

Seizing his chance,
Caedmon whipped around and pounced on Calzada, grabbing hold of his right wrist with one hand and the barrel of the gun with the other. His movements quick and efficient, Caedmon shoved the stippled handle against Calzada’s thumb – the weakest part of the hand – enabling him to rip the gun out of the other man’s grasp. In a smooth, viciously precise motion, he then used the gun to swipe Calzada on the side of the head, the force of the blow hurling him against the upended
botafumeiro
. Yanking his shirt tails free of his trousers, Caedmon shoved the gun under the wrinkled fabric. Out of sight.

Before Edie could grasp what was happening,
Caedmon grabbed her by the hand and charged down the aisle. Her heart thundered in her ears, muffling the cacophony, but also disorientating her, everything whirling past in a dizzying blur. Rib-vaulted bays. Soaring arches. Panic-stricken pilgrims.

By the time they reached the end of the transept, Edie was panting loudly, struggling to draw enough oxygen into her lungs. A group of
disheveled pilgrims, most of them burdened with heavy packs, dashed past, running headlong in the opposite direction. Towards the mayhem at the altar.

Without warning,
Caedmon came to a skidding halt, the one still figure in the rushing throng.

‘What now?’ she asked anxiously, swaying from her exertions. In the distance, she could hear the blare of sirens.
The alarm had been sounded
.

Caedmon
pointed to a set of heavily carved wooden doors. ‘This way.’ Still holding her hand, he pulled her towards the crowd who’d bottlenecked near the exit.

Moments later, having shouldered their way through the swarm, they exited the cathedral.
Caedmon hurriedly ushered her down a long flight of stone steps that led to a small square enclosed on two sides: a monastery to the right of them and an imposing clock tower to the left. Although sirens wailed in the near distance, clusters of tourists leisurely roamed, apparently unaware of the pandemonium inside the cathedral.

Halfway down the flight of steps, Edie stumbled, pitching forward. Without missing a beat,
Caedmon swung his right arm out to the side, catching her before she fell on her face.

‘Keep moving,’ he said gruffly. ‘You can rest later. Right now, we need to get free and clear of the square before Calzada shows up.’ Although his tone was brusque,
Caedmon reassuringly squeezed her arm.

‘Do you think that he –’

‘I’m certain,’ he interjected, peering back at the doorway. ‘He was merely stunned. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.’

When they reached the bottom of the stairs,
Caedmon clamped a hand around Edie’s elbow and pulled her over to a large fountain in the center of the square. Crystal-clear water arched through the air, expelled from four stone horses placed around the base. Cool droplets misted her face. Without thinking, Edie scooped up a handful of water and splashed it on her flushed cheeks.

Suddenly hearing a
plunk
, she glanced down, surprised to see the gun nestled at the bottom of the water basin.

‘Why did you toss the gun in the fountain?’ she asked, confused. ‘I would think that you’d
want
a weapon.’

‘If I keep custody of the Beretta, not only will the airline officials not permit us to board our plane, I’ll be arrested on the spot.’ He snatched hold of her hand. ‘Come on! If we’re to catch our flight, we need to get to the
rental car.’

Free and clear of the square, they raced through the labyrinth of narrow streets that surrounded the cathedral.

By the time they reached the car, Edie was on the verge of total collapse. Grateful to have safely reached the Volkswagen Passat, she hurriedly opened the passenger door and climbed inside. They’d purposefully left the doors unlocked to enable a quick getaway.


We did it!’ she exclaimed, slamming the door shut. ‘We successfully eluded the bad guy.’


Think again, pretty lady.’

Hearing the unfamiliar, slightly accented voice, Edie swung her head towards the back seat, horrified at finding herself face-to-face with a dark-haired, moon-faced man. Who, she presumed, had been hiding in the rear footwell. Seeing the gun grasped in his hand, she instantly recoiled, clutching the dashboard to steady herself.

‘Where the bloody hell did you come from?’ Caedmon snarled. ‘You’re supposed to be in India.’

Wielding the gun with confident ease, the other man snickered and sai
d, ‘Hands where I can see them.’

Cursing under his breath,
Caedmon placed his hands on the steering wheel while Edie obligingly put hers into the air. The age-old act of surrender, of yielding oneself to a deadly foe.

The devil take the hindmost.

49

 

Anala opened one eye, then the other.

Peering through the branches of her leafy bower, she could see that dawn had
arrived with a tangerine glow. She sucked in a deep breath. The early-morning air had a chill brace that was strangely medicinal. A tonic for the fear and anxiety of the night just passed. Straining her ears, she listened attentively, relieved that the only sound she could detect was trilling birdsong. The cacophony put a smile on her lips. The first in days.

The nightmare had ended.

Ready to set sail, she cautiously crawled out from under the brier bush, scraping her arms and face in the process. Not that she cared. She was free. And rested. Ready now to tackle the problem of finding a safe harbor. Not insurmountable by any stretch. She simply had to find a kind stranger with a mobile phone who would notify the authorities about the kidnapping ring. Once that was done, she would immediately call her mother who was undoubtedly out of her mind with worry.

A very good plan.

Slowly rising to her feet, Anala brushed off the leafy debris from her clothes as she gazed at the verdant landscape. Last night’s gloom had morphed into a bucolic splendor teeming with trees and rolling hills and vast green expanses. Not a soul in sight.


I’ve got my work cut out for me.’

Up to the challenge, she set off
, filled with a breathless expectancy. Bobbing awkwardly, lightheaded from hunger, she stumbled on a stone. She glanced down, noticing that her bare feet were filthy dirty.

Oh, for a hot bath.
And an artery-hardening, high-calorific fry-up served with a steaming pot of breakfast tea.

About ten minutes into the ramble, she came upon a low-lying stone wall that separated the fields and woodland from a paved lane. Thrilled, certain that she’d soon happen upon a village or hamlet, she scurried over the stone partition. She scanned the horizon in both directions, seeing what appeared to be a building of some sort situated atop a knoll.
Tacking in that direction, she picked up the pace, anxious to put the whole traumatic episode behind her.

Trudging along, Anala glanced up, just in time to see a flock of birds in flight, all in perfect triangular formation, flapping across the blush-hued sky.

Other books

Thief of Glory by Sigmund Brouwer
A Love Made New by Kathleen Fuller
Exquisite Danger by Ann Mayburn
Glory Road by Bruce Catton
The Blighted Cliffs by Edwin Thomas
Linda Ford by Cranes Bride
You by Austin Grossman
Night of the Eye by Mary Kirchoff
In Harmony by Helena Newbury