Alex Lukeman - The Cup

"ISIS sent a shipment of looted antiquities to Sweden, along with a stockpile of arms and ammunition. One of the artifacts was a silver box with two scrolls inside it. The scrolls dated from the time of the crucifixion. " 'The Book of Simon' was inscribed on the lid of the box. It was written by Simon of Cyrene. You know who he is, I assume?"

"Of course."

"Simon wrote about the crucifixion. At first it's like the other descriptions in the Bible. Like the others, it mentions Joseph of Arimathea. At that point it becomes different."

"Joseph of Arimathea?" Mercurio said. "In medieval myths he was supposed to have carried the Grail to England, to Glastonbury. I have never given those stories much credence."

"Whether or not he went to England, Joseph did catch the blood of Christ in a cup, if we believe what Simon wrote. I'm certain the scrolls are authentic, at least in terms of age. They're written in a style of biblical Aramaic that was used at the time of the crucifixion."

Mercurio looked as if he was about to have a heart attack. His face, already pale and drawn, turned ghostly white. He took a small box from his pocket and extracted a pill. He reached for his wine and washed it down.

"Are you all right?" Selena asked.

"Yes, yes, it's just the shock. All these years, ever since I began searching, I have doubted many times that the Grail ever existed. But you have just confirmed that it did. I will never be able to thank you enough."

"We still don't know where it is," she said, "or if it still exists."

"You might want to have a little more wine," Nick said. "Selena, tell him about the prophecy."

"I'm not sure I can take another revelation," Mercurio said. He smiled to show that he wasn't serious, but poured another glass of Sancerre. "What prophecy?"

"Simon had a vision," Selena said. "He writes that an angel appeared to him and told him Joseph was to be the first guardian of the Grail. The prophecy was about a time in the future when corruption would be everywhere and hypocrites and liars would rule the world while plotting war."

"Oh, dear, that sounds distressingly familiar," Mercurio said.

"The Angel told Simon that as long as the cup was in the hands of just men, God's judgment would be stayed, but if the cup were to fall into the hands of evil men, then the End of Days would begin."

Mercurio drank some wine. "May I call you Selena?"

"Of course."

"Are you a believer?"

"Not in the sense you mean it. I do believe in God, but for me the Grail is an historical object, not a mystical artifact."

"And you, Nick?"

"I believe in the mission, Count. Beyond that, I'm not sure what I believe."

"It may not matter," Mercurio said, "but I think you've been sent here for a reason."

"Whatever the reason, we need to figure out what we do next."

"I'll do whatever I can to help you," Mercurio said.

Lamont and Ronnie had been sitting in the car for about ten minutes.

"Want to take a look around while we're waiting?" Lamont said.

Ronnie yawned. "Sounds like a plan. I need to stretch my legs."

They got out of the car.

"You see the pool when we came in?"

"Nope. It was on your side of the car," Ronnie said. "You want to go swimming?"

"Nah. I just want to check it out. It's down a flight of steps."

"Lead on," Ronnie said.

They walked around the corner of the villa to where the land fell steeply away from the building. A long flight of steps led down the side of a grassy slope to the pool. The pool was a narrow rectangle, long enough for an Olympic lap but only three lanes wide. The area around the pool was finished with gray granite tiles edged with flower beds. Beyond was a flat, grassy area bordering the side of a large hill covered with trees. There wasn't much else to see.

Lamont looked up at the steps they'd just come down.

"I make it ninety-eight," he said.

Ronnie shook his head. "Ninety-seven."

"I counted them."

"So did I. You counted wrong. There's ninety-seven."

"Ninety-eight. Ten bucks says ninety-eight."

"You're on."

"Now I'm gonna have to count them again just to prove I'm right. I'm looking forward to spending your money."

They started up toward the villa.

They were almost at the top when Ronnie dropped down and held up his hand. Lamont crouched down beside him. His voice was a whisper.

"What's up?"

"Trouble."

"What did you see?"

"Three men headed for the back of the house. Wearing dark clothes. Armed. They didn't look like the help to me."

"Shit. You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yeah. Come on."

They moved silently up the steps and drew their pistols. With the Sig there was no external safety to remember. There was no need to risk the sound of working the slides, both had rounds chambered. The guns were ready to use. The sun had dropped out of sight behind the mountains. It was nearly dark.

A door stood open on the ground floor. There was no one in sight.

They moved to the back of the villa and the open door. Ronnie risked a quick look then stepped through, his pistol held in both hands in front of him.

They were in a large kitchen. Potatoes were scattered across the floor. A large man in a white apron and chef's jacket lay sprawled on his back, his throat a ragged, bloody gash that stretched from ear to ear. His white uniform was beginning to turn red as it soaked up blood from a small lake forming around him. His mouth was open, his eyes open and staring at a ceiling he couldn't see. Water boiled unheeded on the stove. An overturned box lay on the floor with more potatoes scattered around it.

On the other side of the kitchen, a swinging door led into the rest of the house. It was closed. They stepped over the corpse of the chef and stopped in front of it.

Ronnie's pulse was pounding. His voice was quiet.

"Ready?"

Lamont nodded.

The door opened onto a hall that went from the back of the house to the front entrance. The front door was open, the rented Alfa visible outside under the portico. The woman in the blue dress lay sprawled face down on the floor, motionless. There was blood on the tiles around her.

"Shit," Ronnie said under his breath.

"More than three," Lamont whispered. "She answered the door while the others came in the back."

Ronnie pointed upstairs.

The stairs were made of marble. Their rubber soled shoes made no noise as they climbed. The stair ended at a T. As they neared the top, they heard voices coming from the right. One of them was Nick's. One spoke with a heavy Middle Eastern accent.

Ronnie gestured.

On three. Me on the right side, you on the left.

Lamont nodded. Ronnie held up his fingers.

One. Two. Three.

They cleared the top of the stairs, moving fast, and turned into the hall leading to Mercurio's study. Two men stood there talking. They were speaking Arabic and looking toward the study. Ronnie and Lamont fired at the same time. Two quick shots each, and the men went down.

Inside the study, Nick and Selena stood near the balcony doors with their hands in the air, Mercurio between them. Three terrorists stood in front of them, their backs to the hall. All three had the empty look of men who had traded away their souls long ago. Nick saw Ronnie and Lamont come off the stairs.

The shots echoed in the room.

Nick knocked Mercurio to the floor, drew his pistol and shot the man on his right. He swung toward the one in the middle as Selena moved and fired at the one on the left. She hit him as he pulled the trigger. His rifle was set on full auto. A stream of bullets burned by her, shattering the tall French doors leading onto the balcony and showering glass on the prone figure of Mercurio.