CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

 

With introductions out of the way, Marissa led the group inside before she locked the door behind them. As she did, she explained the library was a research facility that didn’t lend out books or periodicals but was still open to the public on a daily basis. Thankfully, it was well after closing time, so she felt they would have the place to themselves.

To reach the main reading room on the second floor, the group climbed a staggered neoclassical staircase. Jones whistled in appreciation as he ran his hand over the pillared railings and marveled at the intricate ceiling that seemed to glow from the natural daylight that seeped through the side windows that lined the stairs.

“I love old buildings,” Jones said to Jarkko as they lagged a landing behind the others. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”

Jarkko nodded and pointed at Marissa’s rump. “Or like that.”

Jones grinned. “Certainly not very often.”

Jarkko threw his arm over Jones’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Jarkko have important question to ask David.”

Jones grimaced at the thought of saliva on his shirt. “Go on.”

“When we look for treasure in Greece, we get help from beautiful blonde with eyes the color of sapphires. She was student of history, yes?”

Jones nodded. “You’re talking about Allison Taylor.”

“Yes! Allison! Very beautiful woman.”

“Yes, she is. And very bright. She’s doing quite well for herself.”

“And when you find catacombs in Orvieto and hidden treasure in Mexico, you get help from old girlfriend. You have shown pictures to Jarkko. She is very bellissimo.”

Jones smiled. “Actually, Maria did most of the finding. All we did was shoot some bad guys along the way.”

“Also student of history?”

“She was back then, but now she’s a well-known historian. And author. And lecturer. Truth be told, her work ethic puts me to shame.”

Jarkko nodded. “Yes, it does.”

“Ouch,” Jones said, half-offended. “What’s your point?”

“Allison is beautiful. Maria is beautiful. And Marissa is beautiful, too. But when Jarkko go to school, smart girls never beautiful. This make Jarkko sad and confused. Why is this true?”

“Ah,” Jones said as he stopped on the stairs to explain things. “You’re talking about the Jonathon Payne effect. That guy could hit a bus full of nuns, and all of them would be naughty ex-centerfolds who were rethinking their vows. After a while, you simply don’t question it. Heck, why do you think I’m friends with the guy? It sure as shit ain’t his personality.”

“Come on! Let’s go!” Payne called from the top of the stairs. “You can hug each other in your free time, once you get back to Jarkko’s yacht.”

Jones rolled his eyes. “See what I mean?”

Jarkko laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “You are funny guy. Jarkko is glad to punch car in face and save your life. Sorry about spit on shirt.”

Jones grimaced at the stain. “That’s okay. Your drinking problem probably killed most of your germs anyway.”

“Let us hope. Otherwise, David will get bad rash.”

Jones froze. “Wait. What?”

But Jarkko ignored him as he trudged up the stairs, laughing.

Suddenly alone, Jones grumbled to himself about hygiene and manners and a bunch of other things as he continued his solo climb. But when he reached the top landing, his mood instantly brightened. Off to his right sat a massive room that almost defied belief: it looked like something out of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

The arched ceiling of the main reading room soared more than thirty feet above him and ran as far as he could see—without any poles, columns, or visible supports to hold it up. That left nothing but wide-open space and the occasional table in a spectacular chamber that was lined from floor to ceiling on all four sides by wooden shelf after wooden shelf of ancient books.

Jones walked into the room and spun in a circle to soak it all in. His gaze instantly went to the long wooden ladders that leaned against some of the stacks. The ladders had to stretch twenty feet in length, yet they didn’t even reach the second level of shelves that ringed the room up near the ceiling. As far as Jones could tell, the upper level could only be accessed by trapeze or catapult because on first glance he didn’t spot any doors on that level.

Marissa studied his face as he entered. “Pretty cool, right?”

He nodded. “It certainly is.”

“I had the same reaction when I first saw it. Love at first sight.”

“I can see why. How long have you worked here?”

“Who said I worked here?”

Jones laughed. “No, I’m serious.”

“I am serious. I don’t work here. I actually snuck in the back door about five minutes before you arrived.”

“Jon,” he called out. “Marissa’s a burglar. Just thought you should know.”

Payne turned from a long row of display cases near the main entrance to the room. They featured a wide assortment of documents about the history of Malta but also showcased an original copy of Les Propheties by Nostradamus that had caught his eye. “What was that?”

Marissa smiled. “David called me a burglar.”

Payne rolled his eyes. “Why? Did he say you stole his heart or something ridiculous?”

“Yuck!” Jones said. “I would never use a line like that while I’m sober. I called her a burglar because she doesn’t work here and snuck into the place.”

“Duh,” Payne said. “She told me that when you were hugging Jarkko.”

She glanced at Jones. “Why were you hugging Jarkko?”

Jones raised both of his hands. “Just so you know, I wasn’t hugging Jarkko. He was hugging me. But that’s beside the point. For the sake of the group, why don’t you fill us in on your life? I mean, it’s obvious you know us from somewhere. Why don’t you start there?”

“I know you from the Ulster Archives,” she said with a smile. “I worked with Petr for several months, and he used to go on and on about the two Americans who protected him from gunmen and stopped his facility from burning down. Obviously I asked for all the details, and he told me stories about you, and Jon, and all of your secret adventures. Truth be told, he talked about you so much I feel like I know you already.”

Payne laughed. “You aren’t the first person to say that. Although I haven’t seen it, I hear he has a hidden wall with pictures from our trips.”

“You mean the Payne and Jones shrine? Oh, it definitely exists. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. I’m pretty sure he burns candles whenever you’re on a mission.”

Jarkko grinned. “Maybe that is how Archives catch fire. He is so worried for Jon and David that he build massive bonfire to get you jobs and homes.”

She scrunched her face. “I don’t get it.”

Payne shook his head. “Never mind. Inside joke.”

“Speaking of jobs,” Jones said, “you really don’t work here?”

“No,” she stressed. “I really don’t. However, when I’m in town, I come by and volunteer—binding books, raising money, organizing collections, or whatever they need. In return, they let me come here at night and conduct my research in private. The security guard lets me in.”

“What kind of research?” Payne wondered.

She looked at him and smiled. “Actually, shouldn’t I be asking you that question? After all, I was the one summoned to help you, not the other way around.”

Payne grinned. “Summoned? You weren’t summoned. Were you?”

“That depends,” she said as she pulled out her phone. “Petr sent me a text with close to fifty exclamation marks, urging me to meet an unknown group at the front door of the library at five for a research project with worldwide ramifications.”

“No, he didn’t.”

She showed him the message. “Oh yes, he did.”

Payne laughed as he read the text. “Petr is rarely subtle, which is one of the things I love about the guy. He wears his emotions on his sleeve.”

“He does indeed.”

“So, you know nothing about our current project?”

“Nope. Only what you just read.”

“But you’re interested in helping?”

She pointed at her clothes. “I got dressed up and everything.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Oh yes, I did,” she assured him. “I had no idea who I was going to meet. It could’ve been royalty, or an author, or someone actually important.”

“Ouch,” Payne said.

“Double ouch,” Jones echoed.

She smiled at them. “Had I known it was going to be two guys in T-shirts with matching gym bags, I would have stayed in yoga pants. Seriously, was there a sale or something?”

Jarkko grinned. “Don’t complain. Earlier today, they use trash bags for belongings.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” he assured her. “Jarkko thought they were homeless!”

She broke into a wide grin. “And now I get the inside joke.”

Jones tried to explain. “We didn’t want to bring our luggage, so—”

Payne grabbed his arm. “Let it go. You’ll only make things worse.”

Jones took a deep breath and conceded the point.

“Guys,” she said, laughing. “Don’t worry. I’m glad you’re not perfect. After listening to Petr’s stories, I assumed you were immortal. It’s good to know you’re flawed like me.”

“Like I,” Jones teased. “But what’s grammar amongst friends?”

“See! We’re all messed up in our own special ways. The key is we recognize our flaws, and we’re able to laugh about them. Of course, some of our flaws are funnier than others. I mean, garbage bags. Seriously? What are you, ten?”

Payne was certainly capable of defending himself in a verbal sparring match, but at this point in time, he was far more concerned with evaluating Marissa as a potential team member than he was with protecting his dignity.

As the former leader of the MANIACs, he had been forced to make split-second decisions in the field about the validity of assets and information—decisions that would potentially risk the lives of his men and their missions. Whether it came from his training or his natural instincts, Payne was known for the tuning-fork accuracy of his gut feelings.

Sometimes they defied all logic, but they always proved right.

Every single time.

And this was one of those times.

For whatever reason, he sensed that something was off.

Whether it was Marissa, or the library, or their isolation, he felt his stomach tightening, his heart racing, and the hair standing up on the back of his neck.

Something bad was about to happen.

He just didn’t know what.

“Time to go,” Payne announced out of the blue.

Jones glanced at him, concerned.

“What do you mean?” she blurted, confused.

“It was great meeting you. It really was, but my team has to roll.”

“To where?” she asked.

“Jon,” Jones said as his eyes darted around the room. “What is it?”

“Gut,” Payne answered, which is all that he needed to say. A second later, his best friend was in combat mode, looking to secure all personnel.

Jones immediately grabbed Jarkko’s arm and pulled him toward the door. “Time to go.”

“Go where?” Jarkko demanded.

“Don’t question it. Just do it.”

Jarkko nodded. He didn’t have to be told thrice. Instead, he reached under his puffy shirt and pulled out his gun as he rushed toward the exit.

Marissa spotted his weapon and screamed in panic.

A split second before Jarkko was shot.