all?'
There was a pause on the other end. Midas didn't like it. 'We got Zawas. But Yeats escaped.'
Midas felt stomach acid flare up in the back of his throat. 'And the contents of the box?'
'Yeats.'
Midas dropped the phone and leaned on a loitering pallbearer for support. Several cameras captured the moment, confusing the expression of loss on his face to be one for Mercedes. The Rhodes summit started tomorrow, and Midas needed that coin to join the Thirty. Even the Flammenschwert couldn't help that. All his leverage would be gone by Friday.
Midas scanned the crowds and saw Serena making for the side entrance and her car. He took a breath, stood up, and thanked the concerned onlookers. 'I'll be fine. Life goes on. Thank you.'
He retreated back to the church and then broke into a run to catch Serena before she drove off.
26
The U.S. embassy in Bern was at Sulgeneckstrasse 19, and Conrad's cabdriver took his sweet time getting across the city's River Aare. Conrad clocked it on his new official Black Order Rolex: almost nine minutes to make it over a four-lane bridge, merge into the far-right lane, and reach the next intersection just in time for the light to turn red.
'What are you waiting for?' Conrad demanded. 'Take a right.'
'This isn't America,' the Syrian driver replied rudely in English. 'There is no turn on red light unless permitted by green arrow.'
'I'll pay you extra.'
The Syrian looked over his shoulder at him with contempt. 'I am a law-abiding citizen.'
Two minutes later, they turned right onto Monbijoustrasse and then took another immediate right onto Giessereiweg. Two minutes after that, the road turned into Sulgenrain, and they followed it until finally turning left onto Sulgeneckstrasse.
The street was one-way for security purposes; Conrad spotted the embassy about two hundreds yards down the street on the right. It was a white office building surrounded by an ugly security fence.
'I'll look for your picture inside,' Conrad said as he paid the driver and watched him drive off.
He started walking quickly to the gate. He was half a block away and passing a paid parking area when a Swiss police Land Rover started to drive slowly alongside him. As soon as the window lowered, Conrad didn't wait for the arm to pop out with a pistol. He dove behind a parked car just in time to see Vadim's ugly face in the car's side mirror before Vadim blew the mirror off.
Conrad made a dash the opposite way up the one-way street, using the parked cars as a hedge. The Land Rover tried to back up, but oncoming traffic put a stop to that, and Vadim had to jump out and pursue on foot.
Conrad cut across the corner of Sulgeneckstrasse and Kapellenstrasse and ran downhill about three hundred yards to a blue arrow tram leaving the stop at Monbijou. He bought a ticket from the vending machine and hopped on just as Vadim ran up from behind, no doubt noting that it was Tram 9 Wabern heading for the city's train station just two stops away.
The tram began to snake beneath the storybook archways and through the arcades of old Bern. Conrad caught his breath as he stood among the tourists and commuters. The next tram was ten minutes away, so he had to assume Vadim would drive like a madman to beat him or radio someone at the end of the line.
As much as he hated the idea, he had to call Packard and ask for a secure pickup. He reached inside his pocket for the Vertu cell phone that Abdil had given him and realized that he must have lost it when he dove for cover near the embassy.
All too soon the tram stopped at Bubenbergplatz, opposite the main train terminal. Conrad had to make a run for it and hop a train out of Switzerland. Between the Swiss police, Interpol, and the Alignment, he was dead if he stayed here.
He scanned the plaza and was making a beeline for the station when he saw the Land Rover pull up and Vadim get out. He also saw legitimate police cars at the entrance and a number of patrolmen on foot talking into their radios.
In a heartbeat, he doubled back in the opposite direction to the towering Heiliggeist church. Built in the early 1700s, the Heiliggeistkirche, or Holy Spirit Church, was supposed to be the finest example of Protestant church architecture in Switzerland, with its magnificent baroque interior and encircling gallery.
The choir was rehearsing the 'Easter Oratorio,' as composed by Johann Sebastian Bach in 1735. Several soloists in costume sang the parts of the two Marys and the disciples who followed them to the empty tomb of Jesus. They were accompanied by three trumpets, two oboes, timpani, strings, and the church's massive organ. The musicians were considerably younger than the choir, the church organist considerably older.
Conrad took a seat next to a young man wearing angel wings and watched the rehearsal. The angel handed him a flyer. It was in German and titled OSTER-ORATORIUM. Conrad had to think up something. 'Sprechen Sie Deutsch?' he asked the angel.
'No, dude, I'm American,' the angel said. 'Semester abroad. Chicks dig this shit. So do guys. But I dig chicks. So don't dis my wings.'
Perfect, Conrad thought, glancing around the vast church. He looked up at the oblong pastel ceiling high above the rows of curved wooden pews. It was held up by fourteen sandstone columns. 'Do you actually have a part?'
'I get to announce the resurrection and that Jesus is alive.'
'That's awesome.'
'Yeah, and then I get to score with the second Mary Magdalene over there from Copenhagen.'
'Never going to happen,' Conrad said with an earnestness born of experience that shocked even him. 'Hey, my phone battery is gone. Can I borrow yours?'
The angel handed him a Nokia and said, 'Got an emergency?'
'You could say that,' Conrad said. 'I definitely need to call God.'
'Well, you've come to a house of prayer, so pray.'
'That's okay. I've got her number.'
27
Benito had the engine running by the time Serena reached the limousine. Her phone rang. It was Conrad.
'Where on God's green earth are you?' she demanded as she climbed in the back.
Conrad said, 'It's time we lay our cards on the table. Meet me at the Villa Feltrinelli at Lake Garda tonight at six. You're the Baroness von Berg.'
'You must be joking,' she said. 'I'm supposed to be in Rhodes tomorrow.'
'Then you better know what's on the agenda,' he said, and hung up.
She met Benito's eyes in the rearview mirror and said, 'What's our status on the globes?'
'Brother Lorenzo says they are prepared and will arrive separately in Rhodes as art for the exhibit at the Palace of the Grandmaster. By keeping them roped off, he feels closer inspection will wait until after the summit.'
Serena's mind was racing while the engine ran in neutral and Benito waited for her signal. Lake Garda was in northern Italy, a good three hours by plane, train, or automobile. And she had duties to perform at Mercedes's grave site.
'Get me a seaplane, Benito. I'm going to fly myself to Rhodes-after an unscheduled stop. You get yourself back to the Vatican and accompany the globes to Rhodes. Don't let them out of your sight.'
Benito nodded and moved the car into drive just as Serena's door opened and Midas climbed in next to
