“It’s Caleb,” he said grimly. “Virgil didn’t make it.”
Mason felt his stomach turn over. “What? Virgil?”
Milo nodded, and handed Mason the phone. The leader of the Raiders spoke to his old friend for a few moments and then cut the call. “It’s true. I can’t believe it. Ben said he died trying to stop the Spiders escaping in a helicopter. Cage killed him.”
“Christ,” Milo said quietly. “Not Virgil. What about Jen and Amy?”
Ella’s eyes filled with tears. She shook her head gently in denial. “There must be some kind of mistake.”
“No mistake,” Mason said firmly. “He’s dead. Chuck Ikard’s liaising with the US authorities about flying his body back to the States.”
Eva searched for something to say. “I’m so sorry.”
“I want to go home, Jed,” Ella said.
“Me too,” Milo added, his voice low, hollow.
Mason nodded once.
Ezra Haven had his ancient Book of Spells, but they had lost a dear friend and valued member of the team. Jen had lost a husband, and Amy had lost a father she never even had a chance to know. “All right,” he said at last. “We go home.”
Mason started walking again, feeling as if someone had just hollowed him out with a giant knife. He led the team toward the Escalade, the Book of Thoth in his hands, unopened.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Jed Mason walked along Fifth Avenue with one hand in his pocket. In his other hand he held a sturdy steel tube.
The Istanbul Asset.
He glanced to his left where a blackbird flew over the street and cruised over the trees into Central Park; it was a perfect day, but any sense of achievement or pride he would normally feel after completing a mission was destroyed by the terrible murder of Virgil Lehman. Killed in cold blood by the Spiders when he was defending the dam from their terror attack, his old friend was a hero, but not one the world would ever know about. He’d had to break the news to Jen and that was not a moment he would ever forget.
He looked at his watch. Ezra Haven had summoned them all to the mysterious Titanfort for a meeting just before sunset. He still had time to draw a line under the Istanbul job and get to Hell’s Kitchen long before the sun went down.
Stepping into the shade of the French Consulate’s awning, he was met by a tall woman with shoulder-length brown hair. She wore dark red lipstick and a smart black suit.
“Mr Mason, I’m so glad you made it in one piece.”
“So I am, Madame Bernard,” he said. “Believe me, so am I.”
Her eyes danced over the steel tube. “I see you have it.”
“I do,” he said coolly. “And I presume you’re ready to wire the money?”
“When its authenticity has been appraised by us.”
Inside the lobby, they took the elevator up to Pascale Bernard’s office where a small, wiry man was waiting for them with a compact briefcase. His name was Sapin, and Pascale Bernard introduced him as an art appraiser from the Louvre.
Made sense.
Mason carefully unscrewed the tube and gently pulled out the painting, handing it to Sapin.
The Frenchman unrolled the work of art amid a chorus of tuts, sighs and headshakes. “And this has been taken care of, you say?”
Mason nodded. “I took every realistic care of it, Monsieur Sapin.”
Sapin gave him a doubtful look and then turned his eye to the Mona Lisa which was now flattened out on Pascale Bernard’s desk. A few moments of careful study ensued as Sapin made his tests. “A painting can be forged to absolute perfection,” he said absent-mindedly.
Mason got the impression only Madame Bernard was being addressed.
“Mais… the craquelure — the maze of miniscule cracks in the varnish — cannot. These can never be reproduced with any degree of realism.” He took the jeweller’s loupe from his eye and looked at the Consul General. “Il n’y a pas de doute, Madame. C’est authentique.”
Pascale Bernard faced Mason and offered a polite smile. “Monsieur Sapin is satisfied this is the original Mona Lisa by Da Vinci. I will have the five million dollars wired to your Swiss account immediately.”
Sapin raised an eyebrow. “Five million dollars is a lot of money for retrieving stolen art.”
“I was paid only one million for retrieving the art, Monsieur Sapin,” Mason said coolly. “The other four is for keeping my mouth shut about your museum letting it get stolen in the first place.”
The chastised Sapin said nothing.
“The reputation of not only the Louvre, but all of France was at stake, Mr Mason,” Pascale Bernard said gratefully. “You certainly lived up to your reputation. Extend my gratitude to your team, please. I hope they enjoy their reward.”
“I will,” Mason said, thinking only of Virgil. “Goodbye.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Mason looked out over the Manhattan skyline and watched the city turn from gold to red in the sunset. Out here on the balcony the summer night was hot and humid and fifty storeys below the streets buzzed with life. He shook his head as he thought about where he was standing. This entire skyscraper was off-limits to the rest of the world and it was all his.
If he wanted it.
He turned and went back inside the strange but comforting cocoon that was Titanfort and smiled at his friends, old and new. Gathered in Ezra Haven’s office they were waiting for the great man to return from what everyone around here simply called Olympus. The seat of the gods. The men and women upstairs.
They didn’t have to wait long.
Ezra opened the heavy door and stepped over to his desk. He sat in the soft leather chair and stared at them for a few moments. The last of the day’s light shone on his face and he looked proud.
After several long moments, he leaned forward in his chair, rested his arms on his desk and steepled his fingers. “Not bad.”
Mason and the others shared a look, and then Zara said, “Is that it?”
“That’s it,” he said flatly. “What did you expect? Milk and cookies?”
“No,” she said. “Maybe a thanks. We risked our lives for that goddam book. Our friend died.”
Ezra locked his eyes on her. He looked like a father trying to explain to a child why not to touch the fire. “Listen, you’re sitting in Titanfort. This is the most secret spy hub in the entire world, even more so than Titanpointe just across town. Here, you a part of a team that has the most extensive intelligence contacts and surveillance the world has ever seen. People spend thirty years working for the CIA and they’re still not getting into this place. There’s your thanks right there, so you’re welcome.”
Zara tried to look nonchalant, but everyone could see Ezra had delivered a fatal blow. “Right.”
“And the book?” Caleb asked.
Ezra managed a neutral smile. “The book is currently in a secure location.”
“How reassuring,” Ella said. “But tell me, did Kranz reading from the text have anything to do with the necropolis falling apart, or was it just the grenades?”
“You’re not in Titanfort yet, Miss Makepeace,” Ezra said with a knowing smile. “So there are some things I can’t answer.”
Milo broke the tension. “I must say, the place is impressive.”
“And all fifty floors are ours,” Ezra said. “We need them. We’re engaged in a covert battle here, guys. This isn’t child’s play or some stupid action novel. This is real. This is a vicious war with a shadow power that is very clear about wanting our destruction and the whole thing is fought under the radar. The people of the world have no idea this war is being waged. They can never know, and if you join this office you leave your old lives behind forever.”
He got up from his desk and looked out over the city. The stars were coming out over Central Park. “When you join Titanfort you move into another world and it’s a one-way journey. Do I make myself clear?”