Shiva (51 page)

In the still
-
dark mist an
ezan
, a call to prayer, carried over the wind. It must
have
be
en
the
gunes
, the pre-sunrise service. Had they really been fleeing Egypt all night? Could it really be a new day?

Vakasa squeezed Rebecca
’
s hand
,
almost as if answering her unasked question.

It indeed was a new day. A new country. A new sense of hope.

Not existential hope, but a more practical hope. The hope of a hot shower and fresh clothes.

However
,
even that was dashed as Brandt stopped short of entering the terminal. Vanderwalt held
open
the door, cocking his head.

“
I know you won
’
t tell me anything you are up to, mate, but at the least let me buy you all breakfast before you head out.
”

Brandt held
out
his hand to shake. The two men had spent most of the travel time reliving past glories. What else could they talk about
,
though?
Vakasa? The Disciples? Not very
likely.

When Vanderwalt didn
’
t shake it, Brandt smiled.
“
Walt, you know how much I appreciate you pulling our asses out like that, but I gotta do what I gotta do.
”

The thin Englishman finally shook Brandt
’
s hand.
“
Apparently right
now
.
”

“
I swear, when I can
,
I
will
tell you all about it
.
”
Brandt pumped Vanderwalt
’
s hand.
“
Even over a warm damned beer.
”

That got a grin from the affable British agent.
“
I
’
m going to hold you to that. Including why you are carting along a little girl rumored to have healed a fatal bullet wound of yours.
”

What the
…
?
Rebecca turned to Brandt. He
’
d never said anything about Vakasa healing him. Before she could say anything
,
Brandt shook his head sharply.

She got it.
Not in front of Vanderwalt
.

The smile that had nearly flickered out on Brandt
’
s face returned
.
O
nly Rebecca knew it wasn
’
t a real smile. It was the smile Brandt used when he wanted to get out of a conversation, just like this one.

“
You know how it is, Walt
,
”
Brandt said.
“
Villagers aren
’
t quite used to bulletproof vests.
”

Vanderwalt searched her fiancé
’
s face
,
then shrugged.
“
Just another story to add to the mythos of Brandt
,
then.
”

“
Damn straight,
”
Brandt answered, this time a true grin on his face. He then put his hand on Rebecca
’
s back, guiding her away from the main terminal door. The pressure he was using though felt like he wanted to get out of here ASAP.

She couldn
’
t just leave like that
,
though. Dropping Vakasa
’
s hand, Rebecca went over and hugged the MI-5 agent.

“
Thanks, Walt,
”
Rebecca said
,
giving their Brit guardian angel a kiss on the cheek before heading back to Brandt. The other men may not have hugged Vanderwalt, but they all gave him a warm handshake on their way out. Especially Talli.

Following Brandt, she glanced over her shoulder as Vanderwalt gave a final wave good
-
bye. Vakasa nearly broke her elbow returning the gesture.

* * *

Brandt seldom felt bad about doing his job. He kept secrets for a living. He
’
d accepted that a long time ago. Still
,
walking away from a man who had not only saved his team
’
s life
,
but Rebecca and Vakasa
’
s as well? He wanted to tell Vanderwalt everything. Hell, the guy might even be able to help them, but Brandt couldn
’
t risk it.

Look at how the story of the gunshot wound in the Congo had spread all the way to Thames House. He couldn
’
t risk any kind of leak. The less Vanderwalt knew
,
the less he could unintentionally compromise their mission.

Once they were out of earshot, Levont trotted up to Brandt.
“
Sarge, I know we want to get out of here, but come on
”
—t
he point man threw a thumb to the glass window that
look
ed down upon the
Esenboga
International Airport
—
”
t
heir food service was rated number one in Europe. Number
one
.
”

Even Brandt had to admit the terminal that was a testament to modern architecture did look tempting. The thing was all steel and glass
,
with a huge open food court that reflected Tu
rkey
’
s bi-continental culture. A E
uropean delicacy caf
é
stood next to a traditional Afghan restaurant. His stomach rumbled.

“
A quick bite?
”
Talli asked
,
seeming far more excited than he did going into the field.

“
Thanks, but no thanks,
”
Lopez said before Brandt had to.
“
This is Turkey, guys.
”

When Levont and Talli didn
’
t seem to understand, Davidson chuckled.
“
I think they might still be a little pissed about Istanbul.
”

That was an understatement.

“
If it helps,
”
Rebecca interjected
,
“
i
n about five hours
,
we are going to be in Basque country, a foodie
’
s heaven.
”

Levont rubbed his bell
y
.
“
Why
,
yes
,
that does.
”

Brandt turned away from the elegant airport.
“
Lopez, you need to secure us a craft.
”
The guy was nearly halfway down the long hallway
when
Brandt shouted
,
“
Something
nondescript
.
”

The corporal gave a head bob before he disappeared around a turn. Lopez would bring back what he brought back.

Brandt sighed, draping an arm over Rebecca
’
s shoulder. She leaned her head into the crook of his arm. It almost hurt to have to talk shop.

“
You sure about Spain?
”

Rebecca lifted her head, giving a shrug.
“
More sure than I was about the tunnels under the pyramids and less sure than I was that St. Basil
’
s held a clue to the Ten Commandments.
”

“
So,
”
Brandt responded
,
“
n
ot sure at all.
”

She cuddled against him again.
“
Pretty much.
”

“
I am telling you, man,
”
Levont barked a laugh
,
“
y
ou
’
ve got to start
charging
—
I mean
,
charging
serious
money
—
to be on your team.
”

* * *

The air was fragrant with the smell of oranges, leather, olives
,
and sweat. The atmosphere was heavy with it, so much so that it almost became another personality to add to the eclectic mix of nationalities in this press of human flesh. Gypsy women bustled forward, trying to force flowers into his hand, or to read that same hand, the easier to then extract a
“
favor
”
of some spare change.

“
Master Frellan,
”
a voice called out amongst the bustle of the Madrid marketplace.

Frellan turned on his heel, making sure to keep his hoodie all the way forward. Who would call his name so freely? His mercenaries were out arranging transportation to the Basque region of the country. Monnie and Mikhal were the only ones by his side.

A black
-
robed priest hurried amongst the early
-
morning crowd at the Plaza Major, Spain
’
s largest open
-
air marketplace, weaving his way amongst the stalls and shoppers.
He had the pasty-fleshed and squint-eyed look of a man
who
spent far too long reading books inside. While out here in the bright Spanish sun, it gave him an appearance of constant unpleasant surprise.

The chubby man finally caught up. An overexuberant smile upon his face.

“
Do I know you?
”
Frellan asked. Seldom did he spend much time in the company of Roman Catholic priests.

“
Yes, yes,
”
the man said
,
trying to catch his breath.
“
Well, no, not really. I am Father Benidicto.
”

Frellan more sensed than saw Mikhal pull a knife from its sheath. Little did the priest before them know he was moments from death.

“
We have a mutual friend,
”
the priest finally clarified.
“
Aunush
.
”

“
In here,
”
Frellan hissed, urging the priest away from the linen-lined stalls and into a small
sustantivo
that operated at the edge of the marketplace. The scent of bitter coffee mixed with sweet milk pressed upon them.
“
How do you know that name?
”

Benidicto
’
s pleasant smile was replaced by a sharp glare toward Mikhal.
“
You can put the knife away. Lest you wish to openly kill a pr
iest in possibly the most devout
Roman Catholic city short of Rome.
”

Frellan glanced around to the patrons. Nearly three
-
quarters of the women
—
even the younger business woman getting ready for their day at the capital, or at an international conglomerate such as Telephonica, or even the Olympic planning committee
—
wore a cross around their neck
s
.

The home court advantage did indeed go to the priest.

“
We are no longer at cross purposes,
”
he explained.

An eyebrow shot up. The Disciples and Roman Catholic Church not at odds? That was like saying Massad and Hamas were suddenly allies.

Frellan switched to Latin. Even in this intern
ationally diverse city, these es
presso drinkers should not
have
be
en
fluent in the ancient language. Although
,
he was certain the priest was. If he knew Frellan
’
s sister
’
s name, then he must.

“
We wish to bring the
true
Messiah to the world,
”
Frellan said slowly and carefully.