More minutes passed as the trio hurried through the passages. ‘The Witnesses will bring the angel back to the Mission,’ Cross told Nina. ‘They have a private jet standing by.’
‘Expensive,’ Nina noted.
‘Any price is worth paying for God’s work.’
‘And how are you going to get a relic like that through customs?’
‘The same way we got you through. I told you, I have friends.’ He returned his attention to the monitors as the trio reached the entrance. ‘Anna, lead the way out. Simeon, guard Trant and the angel.’
Anna squeezed past the waiting men and opened the gate, making her way up to the top of the excavated pit. She surveyed her surroundings. ‘Nobody in sight. Move out, back the way we came.’ She went to the chain-link fence and swung the gate open. The first group of men ran past her and headed into the trees.
Trant left the tunnel, Simeon behind him. They reached the top of the steps—
‘Back, get back!’ Anna suddenly hissed. Her monitor became a blur of movement as she scrambled behind a tree outside the fence. ‘Guards coming, north-east!’
‘The gate — close the gate!’ Cross shouted, but it was too late for her to turn back without being spotted. Trant and Simeon retreated into the pit.
Anna leaned around the tree. Two uniformed security guards were walking down a path towards the fenced-off area. Their ambling pace showed that they hadn’t yet seen anything amiss, but if they caught sight of the gate…
Nina felt a rising tension. Unlike when the raiders had been sneaking through the Villa Torlonia’s grounds, this time her concern was entirely for the unsuspecting men as they drew closer. ‘Get out of there,’ she whispered. ‘Just turn around, don’t look at the padlock…’
Too late. One guard stopped, his body language expressing momentary confusion before he spoke to his companion. Then the image went dark as Anna ducked behind the tree; by the time she crept around the other side, the pair had reached the gate. One saw the severed padlock, then shone a flashlight over the surrounding area.
Movement on Simeon’s monitor. The breath caught in Nina’s throat as she saw him draw a silenced automatic and thumb off the safety. ‘No, don’t,’ she said to Cross, pleading. ‘Don’t let him kill them!’
‘Their fate is in God’s hands,’ he replied.
‘No it isn’t — it’s in yours! Tell Simeon to—’
She broke off as Anna’s camera showed the two guards going through the gate. ‘They’re armed,’ Cross warned as one of the uniformed men drew a pistol. ‘Anna!’
She was already moving, making her way across the grass towards the gate. Simeon raised his gun. The camera on his headset made the view suddenly resemble a video game, turning into a first-person shooter as Nina found herself looking down the sights.
But it was no game. Real people were the targets. ‘No, don’t!’ she cried, but they couldn’t hear her.
The guard appeared on Simeon’s monitor, flashlight flaring. He directed it down into the pit — and shouted in alarm as he saw the figures skulking in the darkness. He raised his gun—
Simeon fired first. A puff of blood exploded from the guard’s chest, red turned greenish-grey by the night vision. He spun and collapsed to the ground. Simultaneously Anna rushed up behind the other man, snapping a hidden blade out from her sleeve and stabbing it deep into the side of his throat. Another gush of discoloured liquid fountained from the gaping wound as he fell.
‘Jesus Christ!’ Nina wailed, jumping from her seat. She had seen people die before — far, far too many times — but watching the deaths play out through the killers’ eyes was appalling in a whole new way. ‘You fucking psychopaths!’
Cross’s jaw clenched in anger. ‘Sit down! Sit down and shut up!’
‘No! You’re—’
Norvin shoved her forcefully down on to the chair. She gasped at a sharp pain through her lower body. Fear filled her — the baby! — but the stabbing sensation quickly subsided.
Breathing shakily, she looked back at Cross. ‘You murdering bastard. You say you’re a man of God, but you’re just a killer.’
‘I’m doing the Lord’s work,’ he replied. ‘“Thrust in thy sickle and reap, for the time is come for thee to reap, for the harvest of the earth is ripe.” Judgement is coming, and all worshippers of the Beast will be cast into the lake of fire.’
‘You don’t know that they worship any beast.’
‘They’re Italian. They’re almost certainly followers of the false prophet.’
It took her a second to get his meaning. ‘The Pope? You mean because they’re Catholics, they deserve to die?’
‘“They were judged each man according to their works.” We all will be, when the last day comes — even me. But God has chosen me to do His will, so my name is written in the Book of Life, along with all my followers.’
‘You’re insane,’ was all she could say.
On the screens, Anna, Simeon and Trant hurried through the darkened grounds after the rest of the team. ‘Simeon, you and Anna get the angel to the jet,’ Cross ordered. ‘I want it here at the Mission as soon as possible. Paxton will be waiting with the chopper as soon as you arrive. The rest of you, hole up and wait for further instructions. As soon as the next angel is located, I want you ready to move out.’ He faced Nina. ‘You still have work to do, Dr Wilde. The Place in the Wilderness and the Throne of Satan…’ He tapped at one of the pads, the monitors flicking to show Eddie still trapped in the chair. ‘Your husband’s life depends on your finding them.’
‘I’ll find them,’ Nina growled, her glare at the cult leader filled with loathing. ‘Not for you. For him. But I’ll find them.’
8
A voice brought Eddie out of an exhausted but restless slumber. ‘… went over there earlier. Normally they have twenty or thirty people working, but there’ll hardly be anyone there on those days.’
The speaker’s identity came to him: Irton, his torturer, talking on a phone. A spike of fear-fuelled adrenalin instantly snapped him to full wakefulness. He was still tied to the chair, arms pinned painfully behind his back. His body cried out for him to move to ease the discomfort, but he resisted. The longer his captors thought he was still unconscious, the more he might overhear.
The respect, even deference, in Irton’s voice told Eddie he was talking to his boss. ‘No, I wouldn’t think so,’ the American went on. ‘Is that still the plan? Okay, yes. No, the security’s only light.’
A crunch of footsteps on the dirty floor nearby. ‘Hey,’ said another man. Eddie now knew that his name was Berman; the blond who had been waiting for him near the apartment. ‘I think he’s awake.’ A hand slapped him hard across the cheek. ‘Open your eyes,’ said Berman. ‘I know you’re faking it.’
‘Aw, but I was having such a shitty dream,’ Eddie rasped, seeing the third man, Raddick, behind Berman. ‘And you were there, and you were there…’
‘Cute,’ said Raddick with a mocking smirk. ‘Mr Irton, sir! He’s awake.’
Eddie turned his head to see Irton standing by one of the pieces of abandoned machinery. ‘Chase just woke up,’ he said into his phone, before moving away and resuming his discussion out of earshot. Night had arrived, only darkness visible through the skylights. Illumination inside the warehouse was limited to a lamp-lit circle around the torture chair.
‘Thought you could play dead and listen in, huh?’ said Berman. ‘What, you think we’re idiots?’
‘That’s one thing on a bloody long list, yeah,’ Eddie replied. He had already braced himself for another blow, and sure enough it arrived a moment later. Wincing from the sting, he looked up at Berman. ‘An’ I just added “Slaps like a little girl” to it.’