“That was when I snapped,” Macomber said. “I burned the manuscript.Unfortunately, I also apparently burned the apartment where I was living and set the building on fire. I’m told that the fire department almost didn’t get theblaze out in time.” He paused and took a sip of his water. “My wife, bless her,didn’t know what I had been through-She had me committed. I didn’t blame herthen, and I don’t blame her now.” Tears showed in the old man’s eyes. “Thetelevision news stories made her out to be some kind of monster. But she wasn’tthe monster. I have seen monsters.”
“It must have been very hard,” Leah said gently.
Macomber turned his head to focus on her. He smiled. “You’re very pretty.”
Leah smiled back. “Thank you.”
“Do you know where to find the book?” Simon asked. “I don’t mean to soundinsensitive, but”
“You’re not insensitive,” Macomber said. “I saw the pain in your eyes whenyou told me about your father’s death. It’s just that these are hard times. Wehave to acknowledge that and go on.” He drew a breath. “As I said, I’ve neverseen the true manuscript, but I do know where it can be found.”
Simon stared at the map of the city of London on the wide-screen monitor in front of him. If Macomber had known how to use the armor’s AI system and if Leah had been privy to all theTemplar systems instead of just the comm frequency, they could have worked over the HUDs.
But the ATVs carried redundant systems. The monitor was one of those and intended for use in times that non-Templar personnel were aboard.
“When you’re in a madhouse,” Macomber said with all seriousness, “you meetall kinds of people. There are some in there who have serious problems. I can tell you truthfully many times the medication, the treatment programs, and the lack of empathy on part of the personnel contribute to those problems.” Heleaned closer to the screen. “There’s a sanitarium somewhere around the EastIndia docks. I believe the name is Akehurst Home for the Criminally Insane.”
Simon initiated a search onscreen. The results came back in seconds. There was no Akehurst Home for the Criminally Insane, but there was an Akehurst Brighter Days Rehabilitation Clinic.
“I guess the new name might seem more hopeful to patients,” Leah said. “Or atleast to their families. Probably more likely, though, the insurance companies felt more at ease writing out the monthly checks for care and rehab.”
Voice commands brought up the history of the place as well as images. Property records indicated that Akehurst Brighter Days Rehabilitation Clinic had until 1953 been doing business as Akehurst Home for the Criminally Insane. According to the tax records, the same family owned the property and the business.
The images showed a gray box of a building that squatted like an ancient dog in the middle of landscaped grounds surrounded by a high wrought-iron fence. Three smaller outbuildings surrounded the main building.
The map showed that the rehab clinic was only a few blocks from the Thames. With it in such close proximity to the river, Simon knew demon patrols would be a serious problem.
“Why is the manuscript there?” Simon asked.
“You have to understand that it’s not the original manuscript,” Macombersaid. “It’s only a copy.”
“Will a copy work?” Leah asked.
“What I read, what drove me insane there for a time, was just a copy.”Macomber looked at both of them. “You need to understand the kind of poweryou’re dealing with. Replication doesn’t dull that power or dilute it in anyway.” He paused. “Understand also that if you choose to go after thismanuscript”
“We don’t have a choice,” Simon said.
“your lives will be in the greatest jeopardy you can imagine.”
“They already are,” Leah said.
The suit’s AI broke in as Simon tried to assemble his thoughts and put a plantogether.
“Warning. Nine unidentified vehicles are on an approach path with thisconvoy,” the female voice said. “Efforts to communicate with them have failed.All precautions should be taken at this time.”
Simon closed his faceshield and pulled up the HUD’s radar screen. The sensordrones had already reached the unidentified vehicles.
A schematic of one of them popped on screen. The design was immediately familiar.
“It’s an ATV,” Nathan said.
“Military or Templar?” Danielle asked.
Simon studied the ATVs. The indicator display showed that they were two miles out and closing rapidly.
“Hail them,” Simon said. “Let’s see if they answer.”
As soon as hail went out, there was an immediate response. Terrence Booth’simage formed to the right on the HUD.
Booth was the High Seat of House Rorke, the hereditary leader position within that house. The last four years had evidently been more demanding on him than Simon might have guessed. Although he was only four years older than Simon and currently in his early thirties, Booth’s dark hair and goatee now showed silverstreaks. His face and gotten more round and his dark eyes looked more close-set, and lent him a sour look.
The broken nose hadn’t changed a bit. Simon took pride in that. He had beenthe one to break Booth’s nose. Both times. Once when they were younger and thenagain four years ago when Simon had last seen the High Seat.
There had been no love lost between them when they were teenagers, and there was less so now. Four years ago, Simon had disobeyed Booth’s direct orders andleft the Templar Underground. Several of the Templar had accompanied him.
Simon couldn’t imagine what had brought Booth out of the Underground. Buteven more puzzling was how Booth had found him here now.
Booth’s presence could only mean that Simon had a traitor in his midst.
TWENTY-TWO
Simon opened a public comm channel rather than going private as Booth’scommuniqué had requested. During his leadership role, Simon had chosen to keep all his people informed and up to date. There weren’t going to be any secrets,no divisions of loyalty.
And yet, he told himself, you’ve still managed to bring along aninformer. He pushed the thought off. It was something to be dealt with at a later date. And he wasn’t going to go on a bloody witch hunt to find out
