Chapter 21
Helen and Mac sat next to the fireplace, sipping hot toddies as the flames licked the bottom of the hearth. Occasionally, a piece of wood crackled or popped, sending sparks flashing into the protective screen.
They heard the footsteps outside on the wraparound porch before the door opened. Sean and the others had suggested the men in the Brotherhood were dangerous, but in a strange way allies. They wouldn’t hurt the two Americans, at least that was Sean’s read on the situation.
Of course, he’d been wrong before, which was why Mac and Helen both had their sidearms concealed under the blanket.
“They’re not very quiet, are they?” Helen whispered into her husband’s ear, pretending to nuzzle him for show.
“Like a greased pig in Mama’s kitchen.”
“Did you just make that one up?” Impressed, she pulled back and looked at him.
“Probably the toddy talking,” he said with a wink and took another sip from the steaming cup.
A draft of cool air wafted through the living room, causing the hairs on Mac’s neck to stand up.
Mac turned around and found four men standing in the doorway. They were all dressed in black cargo pants and snug-fitting black jackets. The one in front — a tall blond with a strong jaw — was the one Sean had mentioned before leaving.
“You must be Baldwin,” Mac said, turning back around to face the fire. “Come on in and have a drink. Plenty of tea left over there in the kettle. And if you want to give it a little kick, the whiskey is in the pantry by the fridge.”
The man closest to the door slammed it shut, startling the couple.
“Easy,” Helen said. “You don’t have to go around slamming doors like that. Startles people.”
“Please forgive the intrusion,” Baldwin said. “We’re not here to drink. And we’d prefer to not have any trouble.”
“Oh, good,” Mac said. “We don’t want any trouble either. We’re here on vacation. Pretty country they got here by the lake. I gotta say, I love the South, but this is one nice spot.”
Baldwin took a step forward, keeping the menacing expression on his face.
“You and I both know you’re not here on vacation, Joe. You work for Tommy Schultz. Tommy said you found something, something that we need.”
“Oh, you guys know Tommy?” Mac turned slung one arm over the back of the couch, careful to keep his weapon in his lap. “How long you known him?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Joe. Where is the codex? And where are Tommy Schultz and Sean Wyatt?”
“Coy? That’s a tad insulting.”
Baldwin stopped short of the couch and crossed his arms. “We know they were here. Where are they now?”
“First of all,” Helen said, “I don’t care much for your tone, young man. You need to treat your elders with respect. Second, if you’re so good at tracking Sean and them, how come you need us to tell you where they went? Sounds to me like you put some kind of tracking beacon on them and now you’ve lost it.”
Baldwin’s right eye twitched. She’d hit the chink in his armor. “So your friends found the homing device we planted. I see. Well, that would explain why the signal is still here.”
He pivoted to the right and walked casually over to the big front window. Looking out over the scene below, he paused for a moment to consider his next move.
Mac and Helen waited patiently. Up until now, the script had gone according to Sean’s plan.
“Perhaps Sean told you that we aren’t dangerous, that we won’t do terrible things to people like you to get what we want.”
“And what is it you want?” Mac asked in as innocent a tone as he could muster.
“Tell us where they went. I’m warning you. Don’t try to lie to us. Because if you do, we will find you.”
“Well now, seems like finding people is the very problem you’re having right now. So I’m sorry if we don’t appear threatened by that little warning,” Helen said.
Mac nearly did a spit take with his toddy, forcing his lips to stay closed to keep the liquid in his mouth.
Baldwin reached into his jacket and produced a pistol. The two Americans immediately recognized the suppressor on the end.
Helen clenched her pistol under the blanket. Mac had turned around to keep an eye on the blond guy, and as he did, slipped his hand back under the covers as well to get hold of his weapon.
“You know, up here we’re so far away from everyone, you probably don’t need that thing on the end. No sense in losing accuracy to keep something quiet when there’s no one to hear it.”
“Thank you for the advice,” Baldwin sneered. Drops of spit shot out of his mouth. “Now tell me where they went.”
“Okay, okay. Hold your horses,” Mac said. He slid his pistol over into Helen’s lap and got up from the couch, holding his cup and his free hand in the air to show the intruders he meant no harm. “Sean said you’d be coming by. Told me to give you something.”
Baldwin’s anger turned to curiosity. “Give me something?”
“Yeah,” Mac said as he wandered over to the kitchen counter. “Wrote down some nonsense from the codex we found. Sorry, but they took it with them. Said if you wanted it, you could come get it.”
He picked up a piece of paper from the counter and set it on the opposite counter above the island sink. “Here you go.”
Baldwin motioned to a guy with a bandage on his head, who immediately stepped over to the island and picked up the paper. He took it over to Baldwin.
“What happened to your head?” Mac asked, with a slight slur.
The man’s eyes narrowed, full of malice, but he said nothing.
“Just asking.”
Baldwin finished reading the note and then crumpled it. “This says they’re going to Glastonbury Abbey in England. You think I’m going to believe that?”
Mac shrugged. “Honestly, son, I don’t care what you believe. I don’t know if that’s where they went or not. That’s just what they told me to give you. They said that nine of you would be coming by shortly and to give you that note.” He did a quick count. “Although there’s only four of you. Anyway, Sean said you wouldn’t believe it. Not sure why.”
“Why?” Baldwin snarled. “Do you honestly think that if there were any clues as to the whereabouts of the sword, our ancestors would have been so foolish as to leave them at the abbey where Arthur was buried?”
“Don’t tell me you buy into that whole King Arthur and Knights of the Round Table fairy tale. It’s just a story.”
Baldwin remained silent, perhaps feeling as though he’d already said too much.
A calm silence washed over the room. Helen pursed her lips after a moment. “You know, sometimes the best place to keep a secret is right where everyone can see it.”
“What do you mean by that?” Baldwin asked.
“What do you think I meant? If you say that Glastonbury Abbey is where King Arthur is buried, it seems like a far too obvious place to hide something. Surely all the grail and Excalibur experts in the world wouldn’t miss a clue right there in front of them. Would they?”
Her remark gave Baldwin something to think about.
“She’s right,” Mac added. “We find things like that all the time. People tend to miss the stuff that’s right in front of them. You ever open the refrigerator looking for the milk carton and you can’t see it, only to close the door, open it again, and it was right there the whole time?”
Baldwin said nothing, still considering their thoughts.
“Just saying, if you’ve been there before, maybe you missed something that was in plain sight. I’ll tell you one thing, though. Sean Wyatt may be a lot of things, but he’s not dishonest. If he said he’s going to Glastonbury, that’s where he’s headed.”