Will followed him in with wide eyes staring around at all of the sights. He had stayed in luxurious hotels during his employment with Lindsey, but this one might have topped them all. Lavish burgundy curtains flowed from the ceiling of each end of the white marble concierge desk. The glass elevator was in the center of the enormous lobby, ferrying patrons up and down the twenty-story facility. In front of the elevator, a wide semi-circle fountain displayed an amazing water show like a miniature version of what one could find at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.
Lush greenery hung from the balconies and ledges. Enormous pottery lined the orange-tan marble floor with various trees from the region.
Kaba had entered the building before the others and secured the checkout, knowing that Lindsey did not wish to delay. The Prophet was tired from his extensive journeys. He would need a good night’s rest before moving on to Ararat the next day. It would be a journey of several hours, and he would need all the energy he could muster. She stepped away from the mocha skinned woman behind the concierge desk and handed Lindsey his room key, sure to point out which room he would be staying in. She also handed a key to Will, but gave him a knowing, flirtatious glance as she did.
DeGard had finally dragged himself inside and spun around in circles as he inspected the hotel’s interior for the first time.
“I have to say, Monsieur Lindsey, you certainly know how to travel in style.” The old man simply grumbled and shuffled away towards the elevator. DeGard looked at Kaba with a confused expression. “Was it something I said?”
She shook her head. “No. But he detests Islam. And we are in the heart of a city that is built on it.”
“Ah,” the Frenchman realized. “I see. And how do you feel about that?”
A quizzical expression passed over her face. “I do not believe in religions,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone that suggested he should already know.
DeGard seemed somewhat surprised. “Yet you follow a man who is obviously religious?”
She crossed her arms, the tight white turtleneck she’d put on accentuating her muscular figure. “I do not follow The Prophet because he is a Christian. I follow because he pays well, and he will rid the world of all wickedness.”
There it was again: a cryptic reference regarding getting rid of the wicked. DeGard wondered if his employer was planning some kind of holocaust or ethnic cleansing. He watched as Lindsey and two of his other men stepped onto the elevator and ascended the many stories to his floor. Kaba and the others had grabbed some of their luggage and were walking towards the next elevator.
The Frenchman wanted to get to the bottom of things. He felt like he’d been kept in the dark long enough. He caught up to Kaba and pulled on her shoulder. As soon as he’d done it he knew it was a bad move. She spun around quickly with a defensive frown on her face.
“I’m sorry,” he tried to make the peace in his meekest, nasal tone. “But what is all this I keep hearing about getting rid of the world’s evil doers? That isn’t the first time I’ve heard about it. What is the old man planning?”
Her eyes narrowed, sizing him up to see if she should apprise him of what Lindsey was planning. “I think if you want to know about what The Prophet intends to do, you should speak to him about it.” She turned around as the elevator doors opened then stepped inside with Will and the remaining men from their group. DeGard watched the doors close with an annoyed stare.
“Fine,” he said to himself, and pressed the button between the elevators.
A few minutes later, DeGard was knocking on the door to Lindsey’s room. The old man had reserved a room on the top floor of the hotel. DeGard imagined his employer preferred the space so he could look down on everyone else. The thought brought a disfigured smile to his wiry face. He wiped away the grin when the door opened.
Lindsey stood in the doorway. He had already put on a black smoking jacket, and poured himself a bourbon in one of the hotel’s rocks glasses.
“What do you want?” he asked in a clearly annoyed. Lindsey took a sip from the bourbon and barely flinched as he swallowed. He’d been in a foul mood since arriving in the city.
DeGard decided to be blunt. “Monsieur Lindsey, if I am going to be an integral part of this operation, I want to know exactly with what I am involved.” He almost literally stomped his foot as he was metaphorically putting his foot down. Lindsey seemed unimpressed so the Frenchman continued. “I want to know what it is you and your little group are up to. You are the head of The Order of Golden Dawn, non? This is a well concealed organization which very few people know of. But you are planning something on a global scale, and from what I have heard you and your associates saying, many lives will be lost. Is that true? Are you planning some kind of holocaust or genocide?”
Lindsey listened as patiently as he could. He almost seemed amused by the archaeologist’s clown-like mannerisms. The man’s thin pasty frame didn’t help. Lindsey took another sip of the bourbon and chopped his lips after he swallowed, savoring the taste of the oak-aged liquor.
“My dear, DeGard,” Lindsey smiled at his visitor. “Am I to understand that you are developing a soft heart for the degenerates of the world? I certainly understand, knowing full well the reputation that precedes you.”
DeGard bit his lip for a second while his face flushed red at the barb. He cocked his head sideways for a second then responded. “A soft heart? Non, Monsieur. However, if you are planning some kind of massive attack on humanity, I want to make sure I will not be harmed.”
Lindsey snorted a short laugh. The loose skin under his chin shook as he responded, and his hollow eyes stared back with sincere deprecation.
“You will be spared, Monsieur DeGard, but only because you are working for me.”
“That is all I needed to know.”
The old man closed the door before the Frenchman could say thank you or goodbye. Not that he needed to. Alexander Lindsey was a strange man. That was certain. And he’d not come clean about what he was planning. DeGard was still frustrated about that. At the moment, there was nothing he could do. He would find out what the crazy old man was scheming soon enough. As long as he was safe, that was all that Luc DeGard cared about.
He’d learned a long time ago to always watch out for number one. It was what he did best. And no matter how much money he was being paid for this wild goose chase, he wanted to make sure he would live to spend it.
Chapter 21
Driving through the streets of Istanbul was almost surreal to Sean. Most of the buildings looked the same, with a few, more modern exceptions sticking out here and there. Bright flashing signs lit up the night sky and illuminated the streets and sidewalks like a strange, electric sun.
The plane had landed a few hours before, but the man Jabez had made arrangements with for pickup arrived thirty minutes late. Based on the thick traffic, Sean didn’t pay much mind. Of course Firth had complained the entire time they’d sat in the lonely hangar off to the side of the airport. Sean wished he’d had one of the tranquilizers he’d used on more than one occasion with Axis. In fifteen seconds the professor could be out cold, the only problem being that they would have to carry him into the hotel, which might look somewhat conspicuous. Sean laughed to himself at the thought.
Adriana hadn’t said much on the flight or after they had arrived. She seemed deeply interested in the leather bound book she had been reading. Her eyes glimmered in the lights of the city as she stared out the window.