“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you like. This is the way it goes down, Rahim. I’ll hand the drive — the key — to you after Brandi’s on the plane home.”
“I will speak to those higher than me, and we shall do the exchange — the final exchange. I assure you, our president hates games.”
“You want your nuclear reactors to melt down? If Brandi’s not released, your end game will be hell on earth.”
“Expect my call very soon.”
Six hours later, long after they’d eaten food in their room, Alicia looked up from her laptop. “Carlson may be a smart businessman, but he’s not the most tech savvy.”
“How so?”
“I’ve accessed his iPhone and iPad. His password is Circle M Ranch. That’s the name of his Texas property. The M is significant because it’s the thirteenth letter in the alphabet, as in Circle of 13.”
“Now that you’re inside, you can monitor everything he sends and receives.”
“Carlson has very little in the way of email, at least on the hard-drive I’m camped on at the moment.” She read silently. “But, what he does have speaks volumes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at this.”
Marcus leaned in to view the screen. Alicia said, “Carlson received an email from someone called watchdog@senate.org. It reads: ‘Looks like 51–49 will go. Took a lot of arm-twisting. House should be no problem. WD.’” Alicia looked up at Marcus. “I’m betting ol’ WD, AKA Watch Dog, is the illustrious senator, Wyatt Dirkson.”
“Carlson responded, he said: ‘Good news. The bad news is the target has more info than we thought on k junior. Don’t know his intentions. He’s digging up skeletons. And he’s seeking the object — still valuable in that regard. We can file treason charges — or quietly resolve the issue. Members to convene — DC location. Tuesday, 9 a.m.’”
Alicia said, “He’s talking about you — or us. Treason charges. That asshole! Quietly resolve, as in put a bullet through our heads. I’m used to hacking and finding out these kind of threats and complicity about other people…but now we’re in the crosshairs.”
“K junior no doubt is John Kennedy Junior. Object is probably the spear. Carlson wants it like his grandfather wanted it.”
“The last person to have touched it, we think, was Philippe Fournier. He may have taken it to Rome.”
Marcus shut out the lights and stepped over to one of the windows. He opened the curtains. From the top floor of the hotel, the view of Chartres Cathedral was breathtaking. The moon overhead was plump and oozing radiance, pale light settling over the back of the ancient cathedral like a pastel shawl. Marcus said, “Or maybe it’s in there. I’m hoping that whatever Father Davon wants to show us will help point the way.”
EIGHTY-ONE
It was dark when Marcus and Alicia returned to Chartres Cathedral. Fog climbed up from the Eure River, swirling at the tops of weeping willows and silver maple trees, their yellow leaves wet and falling like golden confetti in the haze. A full moon rose from the east, casting the twin spires into silhouettes. The moonlight illuminated the cathedral in soft white, creating pockets of deep shadows. Mist caressed the stone faces and floated toward the massive wooden doors as if silent spirits waited to be invited inside.
Marcus and Alicia approached the north portal. She hugged her upper arms and said, “This is like we’re in some kind of dream. I almost want to pinch myself. It feels as if time doesn’t have a twenty-four hour cycle here. I know that sounds really weird. Father Davon seems to know more than he’s telling us about the spear.”
“I think he knows something. Maybe he was simply picking and pruning those roses, but it felt like he was waiting for us to arrive. Almost like the rose without thorn information was some kind of very old code.”
“He said the north door would be left unlocked for us.” Alicia turned the antique wrought iron handle. The ancient wooden door opened, its hinges moaning, the sound traveling deep into the heart of the cathedral. They stepped inside and closed the door behind them. “Oh…my…God,” Alicia mumbled, her head slowly turning, eyes trying to take in the light and the stone architecture. Hundreds of candles burned in candleholders on walls and tables around the cathedral. Chandeliers and soft lights illuminated statues and ornate biblical scenes carved in iron and stone, the light reflecting off polished brass and dancing through dark arched passageways that seemed to lead far away.
The moonlight, which filtered through the vast stain-glass windows, filled the cathedral with an interior rainbow, soft hues of blue and pink, as if the atoms in the light now could be seen with the human eye. They walked toward the altar. It was in the center of polished marble, seven steps leading up to the altar. A dozen roses sat in the middle of the marble table. Alicia whispered, “Those are the roses Father Davon picked. Look at that.” She pointed down the long corridor to where a perfect circle of candles surrounded a stone labyrinth. “Let’s check it out.”
“I wonder where Father Davon is. Maybe something came up that caused him to be delayed.”
“That would mean we’d have the run of this incredible church for a while.” She smiled and walked to the labyrinth, stopping at the entrance, her eyes searching the stones and following the maze to the center stone. “It looks so old. Let’s see where it leads us,” she whispered. Alicia entered the labyrinth, following its web, stepping carefully on each stone. Marcus followed behind her, glancing up at the stained glass from the different perspectives achieved by walking the circles within the labyrinth.
When Alicia got to the center, she knelt down and touched her palm to the stone. The centerpiece was cool, shaped like a flower, six petals. “Paul, there is a power in this place, a power I’ve never felt in any church. I can’t describe it. Can you feel it? I could sense it in the taxi, looking across the wheat field at Chartres.”
“Yes. Something’s here.”
“The question now, is the Spear of Destiny here?” asked Father Davon, stepping out of the shadows, the light from the circle shimmering in his wide eyes.
“Do you always do that?” asked Alicia.
“And what is that?”
“Pop up like a ghost. You’re so quiet. We didn’t hear you come in.”
“I was already here. I wanted to give you and Paul a little time to sense the uniqueness of Chartres. It looks as though it’s working.”
Alicia pushed a strand of hair behind her right ear. “What’s the significance of the flower in the center of the labyrinth?”
“It’s a destination of the heart, the soul. A journey Socrates may have found before his death. Some people have called this ancient labyrinth the road to Jerusalem. I believe it’s meant to take you on a higher journey. The labyrinth, like Chartres, is part of the sacred geometry, which, in its purest levels, is designed to open your mind and spirit to become closer with God. It lifts the consciousness to wider, and perhaps, wiser aspects. Walking it, you see and feel different parts of Chartres, the various views of the stained-glass, the solitude of a journey that is more of a destination of the heart than a physical place.”
Marcus looked at the circle of candles, their flames dancing without the feel of air circulating. “You said you didn’t know if the Spear of Destiny is here, but you were going to show us something?”
“Ah, yes…indeed, the spear.” Follow me. Father Davon led them through the long corridors of the cathedral. He stopped at one immense stained-glass window and pointed to it. “That’s the Blue Virgin. It’s considered the most pure of colors found in stained glass anywhere on earth. Look at the blues, it’s like the sun was shining from the depths of a deep blue sea. And that is just from the light of the moon. No one is sure how the old masters achieved it. It simply cannot be duplicated today.”