Eric Lustbader - The Testament

"If you feel that way, then why not destroy it?"

"It's not up to me, is it? But any archeologist will tell you-I'm sure you know this and are testing me-it would be criminal to willfully destroy such a miraculous artifact from the time of Christ. Jesus himself held the Quintessence in his-"

Some movement Rule had been looking for must have occurred because he said, "Come now, quickly, quickly!" and with his arms he guided them deeper into the shadows of the chapel. Groping along the plaster of the rear wall, he found a small glass knob and, pulling on it, opened a small door.

Pushing them into the dark doorway, he said, "This passageway will take you to a side entrance. There are a number of turns, but the door to the outside will be at the far end, not along either wall."

"Who did you see?" Jenny said.

"It doesn't matter," Bravo said. "Come on, Uncle Tony."

"I'm not going with you." Rule put the set of keys the young man had given him into Jenny's hand.

"Oh, no you don't," Jenny said. "I'm not going to let you-"

"You'll do your job," Rule said shortly, "which is to protect Bravo with your life. Leave these people to me. Besides, you have a plane to catch, and if I don't provide a diversion you're never going to make it."

"I won't leave you," Bravo said. "You taught me never to run from a fight, and I sure as hell am not going to start now."

Rule put his hands on Bravo's shoulders. "I appreciate the sentiment, Bravo, really I do, but sentiment has no place in the Voire Dei."

"I don't believe that."

"You'll learn soon enough that I'm right." He gripped Bravo all the harder. "In any case, we all have our roles to play in this war, and yours is safeguarding the Testament and the Quintessence. You're the Keeper: at all costs, you must remember that."

Rule stared into Bravo's eyes. He had the knack of making you feel as if you and he were the only two people in the world. "Since Dex's murder and the deaths of the other members of the Haute Cour, we've been virtually leaderless and terribly vulnerable. If you fail to find the cache or-worse-if the Knights of St. Clement should wrest it from you, we'll be undone. They'll have in their possession all the secret knowledge we have acquired. With the promise of the immortality the Quintessence provides, they could create unprecedented havoc-they will have the wherewithal to entice key personnel within governments, economic combines or even terrorist organizations to do their bidding. They could become an unstoppable force, subverting world policy on every level."

Jenny closed her fist over the keys.

Rule nodded to her gratefully. "The car's a black Audi cabriolet-very sporty, good cover." He told them where it was parked. "Now go!"

He fairly pushed them into the darkness. Then he closed the door and, turning, prepared to meet the Knights he'd seen entering the church.

"The man with the gold teardrop stud in his left ear."

"I see him," Bravo said.

He and Jenny were standing in the dimness of the church's side doorway. Late afternoon sunlight, thick as honey, laid down long shadows. Across the street, leaning against the front fender of the white Mercedes, was the Knight with the gold teardrop stud in his ear. He was trying to look nonchalant, but his eyes were hard and flinty as they scanned each individual that came into range.

"Go to the car as if nothing's the matter." Jenny was all business now. "The important thing is to walk at a normal pace-not too fast, not too slow-and don't look for him."

"He'll see me, and he'll come for me."

"I'm counting on it," she said. And then as Bravo was about to walk away, she added, "As long as he doesn't suspect you're on to him we're okay, understand?"

He nodded and left the protection of the recessed doorway, striding out into the white glare and the deep blue shadows that lapped at his ankles. His heart thumped hard and there was a buzzing in his ears that caused him to walk stiff-legged and a bit too fast. He caught himself and, with an effort, he relaxed, slowed down.

There was movement all around him, and he found the most difficult part was not to look in the Knight's direction. He thought of the essential mystery of film or TV actors that had fascinated him when he was a child: how they had trained themselves to ignore the camera completely. Now he was in the same situation, forced to ignore the man with the gold stud.

"As long as he doesn't suspect you're on to him we're okay, understand?"

He stepped off the curb. Checking for oncoming vehicles, he strode across the street. He could see the black Audi cabriolet, its cloth top up. So far as he could determine, there was no one around it. But how can you be sure? He kept going, his pace remaining constant, though his nerves were screaming.

Movement flickered in the extreme corner of his eye. It was coming from his left, the direction in which he and Jenny had seen the man with the stud in his ear lounging against the white Mercedes.

He's coming!

He kept his focus on the nearby Audi. He told himself that he trusted Jenny, trusted her expertise, trusted her plan. In any event, it was too late for doubts. He'd committed himself and there was no turning back.

Three steps, four, and then a hand gripped his shirt, the long, slender fingers curling, the nails digging into his flesh. He turned, saw a flash of metal-the gold stud-and, below, another metallic flash from the drawn gun raised into a patch of brilliant sunlight.

There was just enough time to take in the look of triumph on the Knight's narrow face before his black eyes rolled up. Jenny, who had come up behind him without making a sound, caught him under the arms just as he collapsed and together, she and Bravo half dragged the man onto the curb.

In response to the inquiring look a passing couple gave them, Jenny said, "Our friend had too much wine at lunch." The couple hurried on, in no mood to have their vacation interrupted.

Leaving the unconscious Knight propped up against an iron fence, Jenny and Bravo got into the Audi and drove away.

They reached Charles de Gaulle without further incident but with little time to spare, which was just as well since neither of them had any appetite for waiting around the airport for the Knights to find them again. In any event, Jenny, on somber lookout from the moment they exited St. Pierre, was convinced they hadn't been followed from Dreux.

All the way to the airport Anthony Rule had been on both their minds, though perhaps for different reasons. Rule had been like Bravo's second father and, in fact, on occasion had stood in for his best friend when Dexter Shaw had been unable to attend his son's school play or athletic meet. Rule, who was unmarried and childless, had openly reveled in his relationship with Bravo, imparting bits of wisdom or tricks for any and all of the physical disciplines the young boy was studying. So it wasn't difficult to understand why Bravo adored him. What seemed obvious now had never occurred to Bravo at the time: namely, that it was no coincidence that Uncle Tony was proficient in all the disciplines he was learning to master and only too delighted to help Bravo toward further success.

"It must have been interesting having Anthony in your life," Jenny said as they were cruising the car park, trying to decipher the confusing signs. The French seemed to have a fetish for making their airports as difficult to navigate as possible. "What was it like?"

"It was great." Bravo pointed to what looked like a space at the far end of the row. "He was like my father, without all the baggage between a father and son."

"Well, that was an answer I wasn't anticipating."

"What's with you and Uncle Tony, anyway?" Someone had parked a car over the dividing line and the spot was too small even for the cabriolet "Do you mix it up like that with all your superiors?"