“I have to,” Simon said.
“Let me go. Appoint me as your representative. I’ll make the meeting withBooth.”
“I can’t.”
Exasperated, Nathan exploded, “But it makes bloody sense! You’ll be safe andwe’ll find out what Booth really wants.”
Simon met his friend’s gaze. “You can’t go. Even as my representative, youwouldn’t be able to speak for me. There are some things I’ve got to set rightfor my father’s memory. I’ve got to stand accountable for my actions.”
“Then let me come with you.”
“You need to stay here. Keep everyone safe till I get back.”
Apprehension darkened Nathan’s features. “And if you don’t come back?”
“Keep everyone safe.”
Nathan leaned in and hugged him fiercely. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “You just bloody well make sure you come back, mate. We need you here.”
Tall and straight, Simon turned to Pettibone. “All right, Sergeant. You canlet the High Seat know I’ve accepted his Flag of Honor.”
The ATV hatch opened.
“Come aboard, Lord Cross.”
Simon entered the ATV and took a sling-seat in the back. No one spoke to him as the hatch closed.
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, Lord Cross,” Pettibone advised. “It won’tbe long.”
The ATV jerked into motion.
For a time Simon kept contact with the other ATV. He saw Nathan and the others load back up and turn the attack vehicle around to head back to the stronghold. Then the connection, kept encrypted and separate from the channel cycling through Pettibone’s ATV, was lost.
Simon sat back and was alone in the midst of potential enemies, protected only by a thin veil of honor from an ideal that was nearly a thousand years old and birthed in another world than the brutal landscape that lay around him.
Three hours later, Simon slipped through the shadows surrounding the Elephant and Castle tube station with Pettibone and the other Templar. The House Rorke entrance lay behind a secret door within the abandoned tube.
When Simon had first returned to London four years ago, he’d come through thetube station. He hadn’t been back since.
The area was worse than it had been. The Burn continued to scour the city. Huge holes and cracks tore up the streets where demonshad battled or Carnagors had tunneled up through.
Pettibone waved them to one side of an alley. The Templar hunkered down with their blades drawn and their pistols in hand.
Simon waited for them, but the sense of foreboding continued to build within him. It didn’t make sense that they were holding their present position. Therewas nothing keeping them from entering the tube station.
“What are we waiting for?” Simon asked.
“Patience, Lord Cross,” Pettibone said. “The city continues to grow moredangerous every day. Things could have changed even in the few hours we’ve beengone.”
Simon checked the HUD and noticednot for the first timethat the otherTemplar had kept him in the midst of them. He felt like a prisoner, but he knew that what they were doing made perfect sense. Under similar circumstances, he would have done the same thing.
Across the street, a line of Templar came from the tube station and approached. When Simon recognized Booth’s distinctive black over red armordesign, a sour bubble of distaste burst at the back of his throat.
Simon stood as Booth came toward him. The Templar spread out around them, but two of Booth’s personal guard remained close enough to defend him if the needarose.
“Simon,” Booth said. His faceplate turned translucent to reveal his face.Despite the ongoing invasion, Booth had gained weight during the last four years. It showed in his features. Simon hadn’t been certain of that during theirexchange aboard the ATVs when Booth had come for Macomber.
Hiding out seems to have agreed with him, Simon thought, and he stopped himself just short of making that observation.Instead, he managed a more diplomatic, “High Seat Booth.”
“Even with the offer of the Flag of Honor,” Booth said, “I really didn’texpect you to trust me.”
Simon wanted to assure Booth that the matter had been daunting. “We have acommon goal,” he said.
“The book of Goetia.” Booth nodded. “Did you bring it with you?”
“No.” Simon didn’t care to elaborate that it was burned or that it was nolonger in his hands. “I have the book. I came to see what you had to offer.”
“Ah well, I suppose you possessing the book was too much to hope for. Itdoesn’t really matter. Arrangements can be made. Ransom has always been a partof war.”
A high-pitched whine sounded behind Simon before he could move.
“Warning,” the suit’s AI said. “An electromagnetic neural pacifier has”
Pettibone threw himself forward with the device clutched in one hand. The pacifier had been designed to take out the armor when a Templar wounded on the battlefield wasn’t in command of his senses. It had also been developed in caseof possession by a demon or a tainted artifact. The Templar armor was as dangerous as a miniature tank and definitely more mobile. The pacifier also had to be coded to the armor’s defense overrides to get through. Each House hadtheir own sets.
Simon tried to block the pacifier, but Pettibone was too quick and too practiced to completely avoid. In addition to that, two of Pettibone’s Templartackled Simon and knocked him to the ground while he was off-balance.
He struck one of them in the faceplate hard enough to rock his head back and succeeded in levering a forearm under the chin of another. He planted a foot and rolled in an attempt tobreak free of their holds. Before he could get to his feet, Pettibone slammed him with the pacifier.
“Block electromagnetic buildup,” Simon ordered.
“Complying,” the suit AI responded. “Operations error. Electromagnetic burstis noncombative. No threat perceived.”
“Negative,” Simon said desperately. “Shut down House Rorke protocol.” He’dbeen a fool to trust Booth, and he’d been an idiot for not thinking theoverrides could be used against him. But they’d been necessary among his ownteams.
“Hold him!” Booth ordered. “Sergeant! Put him down!”
“Enter password for House Rorke
