‘We’ll go,’ Joachim said, but he clearly wasn’t happy about it.
‘We’ll need supplies.’ Lourds rolled the maps and stuffed them back into a protective cylinder.
‘You’re going to have to forgive my brother, Thomas.’
Lourds stood beside his bed and laced up his hiking boots. Outside the bedroom window, the sun was going down. Golden sunlight filtered into the room but it was on the wane.
‘Joachim is used to doing things his way,’ Olympia went on.
‘I got that.’ Lourds stamped in his boots, making sure that the fit was good. ‘But he can be a tad insufferable when he puts his mind to it.’
‘The biggest problem is that you and he,’ Olympia told him with a smile, ‘are so much alike.’
‘Me and your brother?’ Lourds couldn’t believe it. ‘I hardly think so.’
‘Both of you are wilful, proud and full of self-importance. Neither of you plays well with others. In short – insufferable.’
‘Is any of this supposed to make me feel better?’
Olympia grinned at him. ‘You’re both also intelligent and decisive. And stubborn.’
‘As some of my college students would say, I’m not getting the warm fuzzy out of this.’
Olympia crossed the room and folded Lourds’ collar down. ‘What I’m trying to get at is that the two of you would be better off working together than being at loggerheads. You need to listen to each other. You know more than he does about where the scroll could possibly be and that bothers him. But he has access to those wonderful monastic accounts that he won’t let us see. Not only that, no one has seen them.’ She paused. ‘Feel free to stop me when I start making sense.’
‘If he weren’t so insufferable and cocksure we’d probably get along better.’
‘Funny. He said something similar about you.’
Lourds closed his notebook computer and put it away inside his backpack. ‘At least we can agree on that.’
Olympia’s smile faded as seriousness tightened her features. ‘If you’re right, and I think you are, tonight is going to be very dangerous.’
‘I thought things had already been very dangerous.’
‘They have, but you’ve been consumed by the scroll these last few days. You haven’t seen what’s going on out in the world.’
Lourds knew that was true.
‘When John of Patmos wrote the scroll, he made a prediction.’
‘That the scroll would be revealed during perilous times?’ Lourds smiled at that. ‘A statement like that has to accompany every document that prophesises the end of the world. It’s to be expected.’
‘Come with me.’
Curious at Olympia’s serious demeanour, Lourds slung his backpack over a shoulder and trailed after her. In the common room she walked to the television that had been brought in to monitor local news. When she switched it on, the screen filled with a local news station. The dateline showed Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, and showed troops mobilizing. Tanks sped through streets and across deserts while fighter jets blasted off airfields and streaked through blue skies as well as nights.
‘What’s going on?’ Lourds asked.
‘The king of Saudi Arabia was assassinated a few days ago.’
Lourds vaguely remembered something about that but it hadn’t caught his full attention.
‘His youngest son, Prince Khalid, has ascended to the throne. No one thought that would happen,’ Olympia said. ‘Prince Khalid has, more or less, taken a genocidal approach to politics within his country.’ She nodded at the television. ‘Apparently that view is currently quite popular.’
Lourds was quite familiar with the young prince. He’d been in the news several times despite his father’s remonstrations.
‘It’s the hand of Lucifer,’ Joachim stated quietly.
‘It’s tension in the Middle East,’ Lourds responded. ‘Those problems have always been there. Sadly, they’ll probably always remain. I wouldn’t read any more into this than you see.’
‘Yet you advised me to trust you. It’s time that you returned that trust.’
Feeling slightly flummoxed, Lourds tugged at his goatee, then caught himself doing that and stopped.
‘The destiny of our world lies in those lands,’ Joachim said. ‘And in this one. It’s always been that way.’
A knock sounded at the front door.
The monks gathered around.
‘It’s me,’ Cleena called from the other side of the door. ‘I’m alone and I’m coming in.’ The door opened and she stepped through.
Olympia frowned with distaste. Lourds knew she had hoped they’d seen the last of Cleena MacKenna when she’d left earlier.
‘Is that blood on your sleeve?’ Joachim pointed toward Cleena’s right sleeve.
Lourds noticed the speckles Joachim pointed at. They were starting to turn to a crusty brown.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Cleena shot back.
‘What have you done?’ Olympia demanded.
‘Nothing. If anything, I’ve bought us some time. But not much.’ Cleena stood her ground. Her hand wasn’t far from her pistol and Lourds knew she didn’t trust any of them too much. He couldn’t help wondering what had brought her back. ‘This isn’t even my problem. But I came back to help.’
‘Out of the goodness of your heart?’
Cleena shot Olympia a hard look but didn’t respond. ‘You people don’t realize what we’re really up against. Or who.’
‘Lucifer,’ Joachim said without hesitation.
Cleena cursed. ‘Save your devils and demons. For whatever reason, the United States has declared an interest in this scroll.’
‘What do you mean?’ Joachim said.
‘The men back at the university,’ Lourds said. ‘The ones who followed us down into the tunnels.’
‘Yes,’ Cleena said. ‘Elliott Webster sent another team of CIA agents into Istanbul. I’d be willing to wager he’s also the one behind the military team that’s been hot on our heels.’
‘Elliott Webster?’ Olympia said. ‘The vice-president of the United States?’
‘Unless you know another Elliott Webster that could give the CIA orders, yes. That’s the one.’
‘Vice-President Webster is there,’ one of the monks said.
‘Where?’ Lourds asked.
The man nodded toward the television. ‘There. In Saudi Arabia. He went over on a peacekeeping mission. Although everyone knows it’s only to speak for the American and European business interests that have holdings there. At present, he’s more or less a hostage in that country.’
23
Central Business District
King Abdullah Economic City, Saudi Arabia
24 March 2010
‘My God,’ Vicky DeAngelo said as she stood at Webster’s side and watched a row of buildings out on Financial Island suddenly blossom into surging infernos. Light erupted out over the dark water in the harbour and reflected on the rolling waves. ‘They’ve gone insane.’
Webster couldn’t help thinking that God had nothing to do with what was taking place in Saudi Arabia at the moment. In fact, Webster was positive of that. He almost laughed aloud at the thought.
‘You know, boss,’ Tristan Hamilton said with a trace of nervousness clogging his baritone, ‘it might be an idea to step away from those windows. Even if no one decides to shoot up here because they know you’re here, a blast might come too close. If those windows explode, flying glass could chop you up into hamburger.’
‘We’re going to be all right,’ Webster said. ‘This won’t touch us.’
‘I don’t know about you,’ Hamilton said, ‘but I’ve got compadres plenty worried about the way the rebels have been lighting up oil fields like Roman candles. You get nervous about people like that, something’s gotta give. The United States can’t run without oil. Our country will grind down to dust.’