‘In the catacombs of a place called the Villa Torlonia. I’ll send you the intel. You’ll need metal detectors and breath masks as well as the usual gear.’
Anna chipped in. ‘I’ve got contacts in Europe who can arrange that.’
‘Good. We need to move quickly,’ Cross went on. ‘What time is it there?’
‘Almost twenty hundred hours,’ Simeon told him.
A moment’s thought. ‘It’ll be around midnight, local time, by the time you’re on site,’ said Cross. ‘That should work for us — security ought to be minimal by then.’
‘We won’t have much time to reconnoitre.’
‘You’ll have to improvise. I want the angel found — tonight.’
‘Yes, Prophet.’ The line went silent.
‘Why the rush?’ Nina asked. ‘If the angel’s there today, it’ll still be there tomorrow, or a week from now.’
Again he didn’t answer. ‘Norvin, take her back to her house,’ he ordered. ‘Dr Wilde, I want you to find out everything you can about the catacombs. My people need an efficient search pattern, and to know what to expect down there.’
‘What? It’s a tomb,’ Nina replied as she stood. ‘It’s literally as quiet as a grave. You’re making it sound like it’s going to be a military operation.’
His silence this time was distinctly unnerving.
7
Nina was rinsing a plate in the kitchen when someone knocked on the door. Norvin had paid visits throughout the afternoon to check the progress of her research, but from the sound’s hesitancy she guessed that this time it was Miriam. ‘Come in!’
She had been right. ‘Dr Wilde?’ said the young woman. ‘The Prophet asked me—’
‘Yeah, yeah, bring me to him. I know the drill.’
Miriam lowered her head, abashed, then sniffed the air. ‘Oh, that smells delicious! What is it?’
‘Nothing special,’ Nina told her. ‘I just fried up some peppers and onions and things. I know fried food isn’t something you’re supposed to have while you’re pregnant, but screw it — sometimes you just have to obey your cravings. And hey, at least it’s not coal or something crazy like live goldfish.’
‘It’s making me hungry, that’s for sure.’ Miriam looked at the countertop. ‘I’ll clean all that up for you.’
Nina held up her hands. ‘No, it’s okay. I can take care of it.’
‘Are you sure? At least let me put that in the garbage.’ She indicated a wooden board on which were the finely chopped remains of several peppers.
‘No, I’m going to dry them out and use them as seasoning.’ Seeing Miriam’s uncertainty, Nina smiled and went on: ‘Really, it’s okay. I’m going to be here for a while, so I at least want to be able to cook my way, y’know?’
‘If you’re sure…’
‘I’m sure. Okay, let me wash my hands and we’ll go see what His Prophetness wants.’
They left the little house, Miriam striking up a conversation about cookery. Nina had to bluff her way through it; she was far from a culinary expert, Eddie generally handling anything more complicated than scrambled eggs. They passed one of the poles topped by the black spheres of the security cameras, and she realised that she not only had a chance to change the subject, but that it was the only time she would be able to talk without being overheard. ‘Listen, Miriam,’ she said in a low voice, ‘you told me before that you wanted to help me.’
The young woman nodded. ‘What can I do?’
Nina chose her words carefully. Their earlier exchanges had made it clear that she would not be able to persuade Miriam to act directly against Cross, but if she could appeal to her caring nature… ‘Miriam, I like you — you’re a sweet girl, and I know that you care about what happens to me.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘Then you care about my baby, too. Don’t you?’
The smile became a little laugh. ‘Of course I do!’
‘Because the thing is, I was brought here against my will. That’s put me under a lot of pressure, a lot of stress — and that’s not good for the baby. It can really hurt it. Do you hear what I’m saying, Miriam?’
Miriam’s expression became one of concern, but conflict was also clear on her face. ‘I… I know that you want to go home, but I can’t help you do that. I’m sorry. I really am.’
‘I’m not asking you to get me on to the next flight back to New York. All I want you to do is phone my obstetrician and ask her the best way that I can keep my baby safe. I’ll give you her number.’ She had other numbers in mind; friends, former work colleagues, anyone who could realise the significance of the message and pass it on to the authorities…
But it was not to be. ‘I’m sorry,’ Miriam repeated unhappily. ‘But I’m not allowed to make any phone calls without the Prophet’s permission. I really, really want to do everything I can to help your baby,’ she added, eyes wide in reassurance. ‘But… I just can’t do that. I’m sorry.’
‘Then you’re not really any help at all, are you?’ Nina snapped. But despite the situation, she couldn’t feel any anger towards the shy, sincere young woman. In a lot of ways Miriam couldn’t have been any more different from Macy, but she shared the same openness of personality, her heart right there on her sleeve. ‘Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean it,’ she said, seeing the stricken look on her companion’s face. ‘You’ve done fine, you really have. I just wish you could have done more.’
‘So do I,’ Miriam replied.
They arrived at the church. Norvin was waiting at the door. ‘What, I don’t get a personal greeting this time?’ Nina said in mock complaint.
‘The Prophet’s been busy. He’s waiting for you,’ was the big man’s reply.
Nina shrugged and followed him inside. ‘See you later,’ she said to Miriam, receiving a smile in return.
Cross really had been busy, she saw as she entered the control room. The two touchscreens on his chair apparently weren’t powerful enough for whatever he had planned, as a pair of laptops were set up on the table before him, a large printout of the catacomb map mounted on a stand nearby. The entrance to the system had been circled in red. Beside it was a smaller map of the Villa Torlonia’s grounds. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Looks like you’re set up for a really intense session of Dungeons and Dragons.’
He gestured impatiently for her to sit as he adjusted a headset. ‘Comms check,’ he said into the mic. ‘Come in, Simeon.’
Nina heard Simeon reply through his earphones, but couldn’t make out the words. ‘Do I get to listen, or are you going to have subtitles?’
‘Norvin, get her some headphones,’ Cross said with annoyance. The other man gave her a wireless headset. ‘Your mic is switched off, Dr Wilde. I don’t need you distracting my people with chatter and’ — a sidelong glare — ‘snide comments.’
‘As if I would!’ she replied with paint-stripping sarcasm.
‘You’re trying my patience,’ was his warning response before he turned his attention to the laptops. He typed commands, reading the results with satisfaction, then said: ‘All team members. Camera check.’
The video wall lit up, individual screens showing different images as they had when Nina first saw it. But instead of CCTV footage of herself, this time unfamiliar faces appeared in the sickly green glow of night vision. All had small cameras mounted on their headsets, the images twitching with every slight movement.
Wait; not everyone was unfamiliar. She saw Anna on one monitor, Simeon on another, facing each other. Surnames were superimposed over the corner of each screen; theirs both read FISHER. The two Witnesses were indeed married.
Cross ran through a list, each of the ten team members responding in turn. ‘Okay, we’re ready,’ he said at last. ‘Are you clear to move in?’