Chris Kuzneski - The Prophecy

Normally, Dubois wouldn’t have the patience to explain his setup, but due to the urgency of the subject matter and the fact that Müller had been screened in advance, the last thing he wanted to do was spook the caller. ‘Before we can settle on a price, I need to know what type of information you possess. Therefore, I need you to provide the basics. Afterward, if I feel it is worthy of my attention, my associate will make financial arrangements.’

‘Okay. That sounds fair.’

‘Now please, if you don’t mind, tell me what you’ve learned.’

‘Earlier tonight, I was studying on campus, and I overheard two of my professors talking about an ancient document they were hoping to sell. I don’t know the specifics, but I know it’s really old and it’s connected to Nostradamus.’

‘Connected in what way?’

Müller shrugged. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know. I couldn’t hear everything.’

‘I’m positive . As soon as I heard the name, I immediately thought of you.’

Dubois wasn’t the least bit surprised. His contacts made sure everyone knew he was a collector who was willing to pay top dollar for documents pertaining to Nostradamus.

‘Do you know the names of these professors?’ Müller nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘What about their phone numbers?’

‘Yes, sir. And their addresses, too.’

Dubois smiled. It was information he would gladly pay for.

28

NASJRB Willow Grove

Horsham, Pennsylvania

(12 miles north of Philadelphia)

On this night, though, it had a much different purpose.

It allowed Payne and Jones to fly secretly across Pennsylvania.

In order to keep their names off passenger

Back when they were in the military and constantly travelling, Payne and Jones had a longstanding tradition. If their mission allowed it, their first meal in a new city would feature local cuisine — whether that was fish tacos in San Diego, paella in Spain, or Cuban sandwiches in Ybor City. Over the years, they had spent a lot of time passing through Philadelphia, and every time they did, they ordered the same thing: Philly cheesesteaks.

Although it was one of the greasiest, leastnutritious meals on the planet, cheesesteaks were also one of the tastiest. Thinly sliced rib-eye steak is placed on a lightly oiled griddle where the meat is browned and chopped into smaller chunks with an iron spatula. Then, depending on the

The two most famous eateries in Philadelphia were Pat’s Steaks (credited with creating the cheesesteak) and Geno’s Steaks, a rival located directly across the street. Both joints are open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and serve thousands of hoagies per day. Since Payne and Jones were hoping to maintain a low profile, they skipped both places and drove to the University of Pennsylvania (Penn) campus where they ordered their food from one of the vendor trucks that catered to hungry college students. Jones ordered a traditional cheesesteak with provolone, onions, and peppers, but Payne opted for a pizza steak — crumbled mozzarella and pizza sauce were added to the grilled meat and roll before it was toasted in a broiler.

‘Holy hell, this is friggin’ good!’ Cheese and grease dribbled down Jones’s chin, scalding his skin, but he couldn’t have cared less. ‘This is how I want to die.’

Sitting in the passenger seat, Payne admired the bulletproof glass. ‘From the look of this armour plating, that sandwich is the only way you can die in here.’

‘Well, if I start choking, please don’t save me. I swear to God, Jon, I’m gonna walk through the pearly gates, carrying my cheesesteak with me.’

‘If that happens, don’t take the fries. Remember, we’re splitting the order.’

Jones wiped his chin. ‘No promises.’

After finishing their meals, their focus shifted to the mission at hand. According to the criminal database, Ashley had lived in an apartment near Spruce Street, fairly close to the Penn campus. Because of her proximity to the school, Payne and Jones wondered why she had flown to

Simply put, they were going to break in.

Dressed in dark sweaters and jeans, they drove round the block a few times, memorizing the exits, looking for guards and security cameras. Doing most of the things they used to do when they had planned an urban assault, because that’s what this situation required. Although it had started off as a simple conversation with a mysterious woman, it had evolved into something complicated and violent: Belgian snipers blowing off heads, trained assassins searching for a letter, and a coded message pointing back to the city where the woman had lived.

None of it made any sense to them. Or Ulster. Or Raskin. None of them understood what was going on, why Ashley had been targeted, or what to make of the puzzling poem.

However, all of them agreed on two things.

The best way to solve the mystery was to charge forward.

The apartment building was nineteen storeys high with a tan brick exterior. Overall it was a nice complex, but not too nice, meaning they wouldn’t have to worry about a pompous doorman or an overzealous security staff. The surrounding streets and sidewalks were fairly busy for a Sunday night, filled with students and non-students alike. Snowflakes danced through the air, yet there was little accumulation on the concrete walkway that led up to a maroon awning.

Payne and Jones wore ball caps and gloves — partly because of the cold, but mostly to protect their identities as they snuck inside Ashley’s apartment. If the Pittsburgh police hadn’t contacted the local authorities about her homicide already, they would in the near future. And once that happened, the Philadelphia cops would swing by, looking for clues of any kind. The last thing the duo wanted was to be linked to the scene and her apartment. That was the type of coincidence that would be tough to explain.

As they walked towards the front door, Jones reached into his back pocket for his lock picks. Payne shook his head, and pointed to the

In this case, it took less than thirty seconds for them to get inside.

The lobby was warm and well lit. No security cameras in sight. Several rows of locked mailboxes filled the left-hand wall. Beyond it was a long corridor that led to a workout centre, laundry facilities, and a private parking lot. On their right, a fire door opened into an emergency stairwell. Just past it was a bank of three elevators and a small sitting area, with a couch and two chairs. A bulletin board, covered with flyers and a local bus map, hung on the back wall.

Jones pressed the elevator button, and the middle doors sprang open without delay. He walked inside first, followed by Payne, who pressed floor number six.

The doors slammed shut, and the next phase of their journey began.

29

For that reason, they preceded with caution.

As Payne walked towards the door, he studied it out of the corner of his eye. The lock and door frame appeared intact, and no police tape was visible. As far as he could tell, the apartment was undisturbed. Without advanced recon, there was no way of knowing if Ashley had a roommate or a deadbeat boyfriend who stayed over all the time. Just to be safe, Payne knocked on the door and slowly walked past. If someone answered, he

A minute later, after no response, Payne was confident the apartment was empty. Of course, they wouldn’t know for sure until they got inside.

With a quick whistle, he signalled to Jones, who left the elevator and strolled casually down the hall. Inside his coat pockets, he held a gun in his right hand and his lock picks in his left. No matter which hand was needed, Jones would be prepared. He put his ear against the surface of the door and listened. No sound at all. The door was cold and hollow, and made from some type of galvanized steel that had been painted the same shade of tan as the building’s exterior. The knob was fitted with a simple cylindrical lock. Nothing too fancy. A click here and a twist there, and Jones popped it open. Less than fifteen seconds from start to finish.