The mercenary knew Australia well, so he’d opted to chauffeur himself to the compound, even renting a convertible in order to savor the sunshine which was sadly lacking back home. As he motored out of the metro area and into the countryside, he rubbed a trickle of sweat off his neck. While it was still the blustery tail end of winter in the States, March in Australia meant the end of summer and the beginning of autumn.
He took a brief moment to savor the feeling of fresh air on his skin, knowing the oppressive atmosphere that waited for him at the compound. It was situated in the Yarra Valley—a shrewd choice for a cult as secretive as the Nephilim. Even though the valley was only a short distance from the city of Melbourne, it was agricultural—mainly planted in vineyards. Despite its popularity as a tourist destination, the valley was sparsely populated so that a cinderblock fortress tucked away on a private road wouldn’t attract too much notice.
Chopper headed toward his destination with a mixture of relief and paranoia. On the one hand, he would be glad to be finished with the cult once and for all. On the other hand, he couldn’t help wondering whether the diviner could afford to let him walk away alive. He was one of the “Fallen” as the Nephilim liked to call everybody who wasn’t them. Nobody from the outside world knew as much about the brotherhood’s operation as he did. He’d seen the inside of every compound, trained every marksman and supervised the set-up of every surveillance camera around the globe. As a mercenary, it was his business to do his job and keep his mouth shut about the people he worked for. He hoped Metcalf would remember that when the time came to part ways.
During Chopper’s employment with the Nephilim, he’d tried ten ways from Sunday to find out what they were really up to. He needed to know if his neck was in the noose, but nobody could offer any useful information. His old pal Leroy didn’t sense any danger, and he’d been on the Nephilim’s payroll even longer than Chopper. Then again, Leroy was an idiot when it came to seeing the big picture if it didn’t affect him personally. The cowboy also had some private angle that involved a big payoff, so maybe he had an incentive to hang on.
Joshua, Metcalf’s spymaster son, hadn’t been of much use either in getting to the bottom of things. Bowdeen had put a flea in the kid’s ear about a secret lab near the main compound. Despite digging for months, Joshua hadn’t been able to find out squat about what was going on there.
Chopper knew there was more to Metcalf’s plans than merely beefing up security at the satellite compounds. As far as the mercenary could tell, the diviner was preparing for war. Against whom he didn’t know but he sure as hell didn’t want to be around when it happened.
He only had one card left to play. Joshua was due to arrive in about a month. Before Chopper left Australia, he intended to worm out as much intel as he could from the kid. What he heard would be the deciding factor in whether he caught a plane back to the states to collect his final paycheck or slipped away and vanished himself off the Nephilim’s radar for good. He’d prefer to disappear on his own terms if it came to that. He had a feeling that the disappearing act Metcalf had in mind for him might be a lot more painful.
Chapter 9—Jaded Travelers
Griffin looked anxiously at his watch. “I fear we’ll be dreadfully late.” He quickened his pace.
Cassie could barely keep up with his long stride given her fatigue from the grueling trip they’d just completed. The distance from Chicago to eastern China was 6,500 miles as the crow flies. The pythia doubted that any crow in its right mind would have attempted the journey in thirteen hours. That was how long their nonstop flight from the Windy City to Beijing had taken. Afterward, they’d boarded another plane for the hour and a half flight to Shenyang, the capital of Liaoning Province in northeastern China.
Liaoning skirted a region which bore the romantic name of Inner Mongolia. To Cassie, the phrase “Inner Mongolia” had always connoted the end of the world. Now that she’d personally traveled to Kathmandu and come within spitting distance of the equally exotic Timbuktu, Inner Mongolia didn’t seem all that out-of-the-way anymore.
Feeling chilled, the pythia wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck. The temperature was about forty degrees and windy. Turning to Griffin, she asked, “Is it my imagination or is the weather here exactly the same as Chicago?”
Never breaking stride, the scrivener replied, “It should be. We’re at approximately the same latitude here as back in the Midwest which means a similar type of spring weather.”
“I think we should have started our search in Cambodia where it’s warm,” Cassie muttered. She struggled to catch her breath while attempting to put on a burst of speed. “Are we there yet?”
They were en route to meet the Hongshan trove keeper at the Provincial Museum. Maddie had wisely booked them into a hotel which was walking distance from their rendezvous point. However, the chatelaine hadn’t factored in Cassie’s disorientation from the thirteen-hour time
