‘Where the hell have you been?’ Carter thundered. ‘I’ve been waiting here for almost three hours.’
‘Not now, David,’ Harker snapped as he made his way out through the Vatican’s southern entrance and onto the scorching hot pavement. He had left the ex-don with strict instructions to sit on the bench nearby and wait for him but, judging from the somewhat glazed expression on his friend’s face and the smell of whisky on his breath, those orders had been totally ignored. ‘And I thought we agreed to no drinking.’
Carter’s bloodshot eyes widened with incredulity and he shook his head, swaying from side to side with the posture of a drunken driver pleading his innocence to the officer arriving on scene. ‘I have not been drinking,’ he protested fervently. ‘Not real drinking, anyway – only a few scoops from the local watering hole. And, anyway, what would you have me do while you take off and leave me for hours on end?’
It felt like the beginning of the nightly row between an old married couple, and Harker took a deep breath. He knew all too well about his friend’s ‘life choice’, and arguing about it right now wasn’t going to help one bit. ‘Fair enough, David. It’s just been a difficult couple of hours.’
‘Are you all right?’ Carter replied, now taking note of Harker’s dishevelled appearance. ‘You look like you’ve been to hell and back.’
In Harker’s mind that wasn’t too far from the truth, given the demonic appearance of Bishop Esposito, and he slumped onto the same bench that he had ordered Carter to stick to like glue before himself entering Vatican City. ‘I think I just have,’ he admitted in little more than a whisper as Carter sat down alongside.
‘So what happened in there? Can they help?’
‘No, I don’t think so. In fact I’d safely say they have their hands full at the moment.’
Harker wasn’t being deliberately evasive, but his vague response had Carter now insatiably curious.
‘Well go on, then,’ Carter slurred. ‘Spill the beans.’
This distinctly British expression made Harker smile and, for some inexplicable reason, he began to relax. ‘It turns out that those two corpses we saw rising from their graves weren’t the only examples of such a miracle. There was another, too, who at this very moment is being confined in a storeroom underneath the Governorate building.’
If Carter was shocked, he certainly wasn’t showing it but, considering how soused he was, there was probably no surprise there.
‘If that wasn’t crazy enough, as of last night the third dead man has transformed into a snarling creature the likes of which I could never even have dreamt of. And, to top it all, the three words he seems obsessed with are “Giorno del giudizio”, which means Judgement Day in Italian. Oh, and did I mention that all three men were priests who died in the same car accident earlier this week?’
Carter finally appeared to be grasping the gravity of what he was hearing as it sank into his inebriated mind. Nevertheless he remained obligingly quiet as Harker despondently finished his tale.
‘As of this moment I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on. And therefore I’m no closer to finding Chloe, whose life, I don’t need to remind you, is on the line.’
‘Bloody hell, Alex,’ Carter finally exclaimed, appearing to have sobered a bit. ‘Do you really think there could be some truth in…you know, Judgement Day being at hand?’
Harker had already been mulling over that possibility on his way out of the Governorate. He had ultimately been unable to offer Boyle and Baptista anything that might help, but he had promised to say nothing to others beyond Carter.
The two cardinals had been unwilling to say what they themselves thought it all meant, but Harker could tell that the idea that Judgement Day could already be set in motion as of that moment was genuinely having an impact on them too. Christ, the newly transformed Esposito could even be described as looking like a traditional demon. Of course, reality had then kicked in and although, yes, what he had seen had undoubtedly appeared to defy the laws of nature, it was a far cry from thinking that Judgement Day was imminent. Just considering the whole concept gave him a headache.
‘All I know is that during the past few days I’ve witnessed one suicide, one murder, two corpses risen from the dead – make it three if you count the strangled guy – also a creature resembling something out of a Stephen King novel. And, to top it off, my girlfriend’s been taken hostage by a man I know nothing about, calling himself “God”, who has had me running around all over Europe.’ Harker rubbed his eyes and slumped even lower on the bench. ‘I doubt things could get any worse now, do you?’
A bleary-eyed Carter was still attempting to find something positive to say when a black Mercedes limo pulled up alongside the pavement next to them. A blond-haired man wearing a snazzy silver-grey suit and aviator steel-rimmed sunglasses got out from the driver’s side and, with the door still open, he rested both elbows on the car’s rooftop.
‘Professor Alex Harker?’ the man began in a deep voice, pointing a gloved finger in Harker’s direction. ‘We’ve been looking for you.’
The timing could not have been more perfect and Harker rubbed his eyes once more, then turned to Carter. ‘Great, now even the Mafia’s after us!’
The driver slammed the door shut and walked around the vehicle until he stood within a metre of them. With a courteous bow he removed his sunglasses to reveal a pair of light-grey irises, and in that instant Harker felt heartened. This man was unquestionably a Templar.
‘You have an invitation to meet with Tristan Brulet,’ the Templar announced before he opened the Mercedes’s passenger door. ‘If it’s convenient, that is?’
Harker was already on his feet, and pulling Carter to his, when the man raised an open palm towards them.
‘The invitation is only for you, Professor.’
Harker looked over at Carter, who, perhaps influenced by the drink, was now gazing up at him with puppy-dog eyes that said ‘Don’t leave me, please.’ So, with a woeful sigh he turned back to face the Templar. ‘I am afraid it’s both of us or neither of us.’
The Templar thought about that for a second, then gave a polite nod. ‘Two it is, then.’
Without another thought, Harker bundled Carter into the back seat and slid in next to him before the Templar slammed the door shut and made his way over to the driver’s side.
‘Who’s Trixy Brulet? She sounds like a go-go dancer,’ Carter muttered groggily, clearly excited at the prospect. ‘Are we going to a strip club?’
Harker shook his head in despair. His friend wasn’t just tipsy; he was completely trashed. ‘She is a he, and he’s certainly not a go-go dancer.’
Harker now found himself preoccupied with the unpalatable notion of turning up to meet the legendary Grand Master of the Knights Templar along with a pissed, middle-aged man hoping to catch a lap dance.
‘Should take about an hour and a half to get there,’ the driver informed them on catching Carter’s jovial grin in the rear-view mirror. ‘Should give enough time for a little snooze, if anyone needs one.’
‘Thank you,’ Harker replied, shooting a dirty look at Carter, who was blissfully unaware of the reproachful jibe directed towards him and more preoccupied with a couple of short-skirted brunettes walking by.
‘Let’s get going, then.’ The Templar started up the Mercedes and pulled out into the heavy traffic.
In the back seat, Harker settled down, allowing the day’s accumulation of tension to drain away He had no idea where they were heading, which was standard practice when meeting Brulet, but he knew it would be a safe journey and he was cheered that they’d sent a Templar with those extremely rare – yet to him familiar – grey eyes. Of course not all Templars shared that trait, but sending one who did had surely been deliberate on Brulet’s part, to help make Harker feel secure that the man was exactly who he said he was.
Closing his eyes to the peaceful hum of the Mercedes’s engine, he began to slip into a deep sleep. He had not slept properly since the flight to Berlin over a day ago, and the only thing keeping him going right now was the buzz of adrenalin in his veins. Besides which, if events up to now were anything to go by, he was going to need all the energy his body could muster.
Of course, if he only knew what was about to come, he would have demanded not just a short rest but a full-blown holiday.