“Even then, the Queen’s not going to abdicate,” Avery argued.
“Not voluntarily.” Tam’s tone was dark. “If half of the rumors we’ve gathered are true, Morgan’s reach is broad, and she’s got people in all segments of society who are devoted to her. The Dominion agent we captured mentioned something called “The Sisterhood,” but clammed up when I mentioned her name. He seemed scared. Anyway, she lives in a castle, a compound, really, outside of Truro, and her private staff is all ex-military or ex-intelligence. Guys like Locke. When I put this all together, it paints a grim picture.”
“You think, once she’s got her connection to Arthur established, she’ll move into the political arena,” Dane began, thinking it through as he spoke, “become Prime Minister, and then…”
“She uses her connections to make sure something terrible and permanent happens to the Queen,” Bones continued.
“Not long afterward, it’s revealed that the beloved Prime Minister is descended from the legendary King Arthur,” Dane finished.
“I’m not convinced she’s going to wait that long,” Tam said. “She’s hosting an event this weekend at her estate, and the Queen will be there.”
“Only the Queen?” Dane asked. “What about the rest of the Royal Family.”
“Morgan might act now and step into the gap later. She might figure if she cuts off the head, the monarchy will fall. Who can tell?” Tam shrugged.
“Have you notified the British authorities?” Dane asked.
“I’ve told our people what I suspect, but I did not tell them anything about King Arthur, which makes my suspicions pretty flimsy. What do I really have but a bunch of theories about a politically connected woman who doesn’t seem very ambitious? On paper, she looks like an upstanding citizen, if maybe a bit too conservative for some people. She gives a lot of money to charity. She supports genetic research to fight all sorts of diseases. They even named the reptile house at the London Zoo for her because of all the money she gave them. She ain’t bulletproof, but she’s close.”
“Queen and Prime Minister,” Avery said. “And if she can find a way to harness the power of Arthur’s weapons, replicate it, even, there’s no telling what she could do.”
Tam nodded thoughtfully.
“An army that can become truly invisible. Objects that can amplify rays of light into powerful energy weapons.”
“You’d never have to reload,” Willis said.
“And we haven’t even found the final piece of the puzzle,” Matt added.
“Okay, you’ve convinced us she’s up to no good. But what have you found out about Angel?”
“We’ve got her arriving in England, alive, with Locke.” Tam handed him a grainy printout of a frame of security footage. “We’ve got her being put in a van.” She handed him another printout. “And a van like this one showed up at Morgan’s headquarters an hour ago.” She took a deep breath. “I can get you in and out of the country, and I can give you what you need to pull off this rescue, but I can’t be directly involved and neither can my people. It’s on you.”
“I understand,” Dane said. “Now, tell me all you know about this compound.”
Chapter 29
“Who the hell are you?” Angel said to the man who opened the door. He was a solidly built black man with a shaved head. As he stepped into the room, she revised her opinion. He wasn’t just solid, he was built like a rhinoceros.
“Jacob.” His soft voice stood at stark odds with his build. He stopped in the center of the room and stared at her. There was no kindness in his eyes, nor was there cruelty. He was a blank slate.
“You don’t look like a Jacob. You look more like a Rufus.” Perhaps she shouldn’t cop an attitude with these people, but she was resigned to the fact that they were going to kill her, so she really didn’t care what they thought of her. If her needling made them kill her sooner, fine. She was tired of being held captive.
Jacob didn’t answer. He hoisted her to her feet and walked her toward the door.
“You don’t say much. Are you stupid or something?”
“No,” he replied, just as softly as before. He steered her along a featureless hallway of gray stone that ended at a suit of armor.
“How the hell do you get lost in a freaking hallway? Remind me not to let you navigate next time. You probably don’t even stop to ask directions, do you?”
This time she didn’t even get a one-word answer out of him. He pushed up the face guard on the helmet, revealing a number pad, punched in a code, and stepped back as the suit of armor swung forward, revealing an elevator.
“Where am I, some kind of Scooby Doo haunted castle?” She realized her chatter was covering for a rising fear she thought she’d worked past early in her captivity. Truth was, she wasn’t eager to die, no matter what she told herself.
“You’re at Modron, on Bodmin Moor near Truro,” Jacob said as the elevator door closed and they began to descend.
“Okay, now I wish I’d paid attention in Geography class.” She’d hoped that might have elicited a smile or a chuckle from Jacob. Any sign of emotion would be welcome at this point. “So, where are you taking me?”
“Morgan wants to see you.”
“Captain Morgan? I could go for a drink right now.” Still no emotion.
The elevator came to a stop and the door opened onto an octagonal room with blue carpet, a television, and a rack of nasty looking weapons. Angel stepped out onto the soft carpet and looked around.
“Cool dungeon, bro.”
“It’s merely my exercise room.” She hadn’t noticed the woman standing off to the side. She was about Angel’s height, but fair and blonde. “This is where I hone myself to a fine edge.”
“I take it you’re Morgan.”
“I am. And you are no longer of use to us.” Morgan stared at her as if expecting a reply.
“Yeah, I don’t play well with others, especially when they kidnap me.”
“Fortunately for you, that time is at an end.”
Angel’s stomach lurched and she looked at the weapons rack. Was this where she was to die? She swallowed hard.
“Cool. So I can go, right?”
“Yes. After you fight me.” This time Morgan did smile, but there was neither laughter nor guile in her eyes. She was serious.
“That’s stupid. If you’re going to let me leave, just point me to the door and I’ll be gone. No need for anybody to get hurt.”
“That is my condition, the same one I give everyone who is of no use. Fight me. If you win, you leave by the front door. If I win, you leave by the back door. It’s all very simple.”
“Right. I win and your lackey shoots me in the back, I suppose.”
“No. I meant what I said. Leave with honor or leave in disgrace, but you will not leave until you fight me. Locke thinks you might afford me a challenge.”
“You’re crazy. I guess you want to fight with those swords and spears and crap?” Angel hoped the answer was “no.” Knife fighting she could handle. Maybe a spear, if it was anything like a bo staff. But a sword? No way. And she didn’t even recognize some of the weapons, which looked medieval and more than a little sinister.
“If you wish. I prefer hand to hand fighting,” Morgan said.
“Mano a mano, huh?” Angel stared into Morgan’s eyes for a full five seconds, waiting for any indication that this was all a big joke. No dice. As she stared, she reminded herself that this woman was apparently the boss, which meant she was the one responsible for Angel’s kidnapping. Now she stood there, the arrogant cow, wanting to fight her. Fine. If there was one thing Angel knew how to do, it was fight. “All right. Take these cuffs off of me and let’s do this.”