Sign of the Cross

radar, and I can’t risk flying underneath it.’

‘So what do you suggest?’

A smile crossed Jones’s lips. ‘Don’t worry. As long as we have some money and a few credit cards, I’m confident they’ll never find us.’

The squadron of black helicopters hovered over the Bern-Belpmoos Airport (six miles southeast of Bern, Switzerland’s capital city), searching for their sister chopper. When one of the pilots spotted it at the far end of the airfield, he ordered the tower to redirect all current air traffic to other Swiss facilities. Planes, he informed them, shouldn’t be landing in a crime scene.

A dozen men, each dressed in military fatigues and carrying automatic weapons, circled the craft, then stormed the chopper, searching the cockpit, backseat, and rear hatch for any available clues. Nothing turned up except a cold engine, which meant it had been on the ground for at least twenty minutes. Maybe more.

The team leader spoke into his headset. ‘The bird is clear. Starting ground surveillance.’

‘Be careful,’ the command post warned. ‘These men are clever and quite dangerous. Double-check all leads, then radio back to me. Is that understood?’

‘Don’t worry, sir. We’ll find them or die trying.’

After figuring out a way to get to Switzerland, Payne and Jones realized they had a decision to make, one that was more important than where they were going to spend the night. The sole reason they were in this mess was their agreement with Manzak and Buckner. Now that they were dead, Payne and Jones had to decide if they wanted to stay involved.

‘What do you think?’ Payne asked. ‘Have we completed our end of the deal?’

‘Technically, I’d say yes. We found Boyd and delivered him to Manzak, just like we agreed. Of course, you did kill Manzak during the exchange.’

‘Hey! Don’t pin this all on me. You blew up their chopper. Then stole another.’

‘Yeah, but only after they trashed our Ferrari. Come on, someone had to pay for that.’

Payne didn’t want to think about the car because his gut told him he was going to pay for it. ‘So what do you think?’ Payne asked again. ‘Should we stay involved with this mess?’

‘I think we better. At least until we know who’s running things and why they wanted us involved. I mean, if we don’t, we’re gonna have to watch our backs for a very long time.’

46

Kusendorf, Switzerland

(eighty-two miles southeast of Bern)

Clinging to the southern slopes of the Lepontine Alps, Kusendorf is a village of nearly 2,000 people in Ticino, the southernmost canton (or state) in Switzerland. Known primarily for its scenic views and local brand of Swiss cheese, Kusendorf is also the home of the Ulster Archives, one of the finest private collections of rare documents in the world.

The manuscripts themselves are housed in a well-guarded chalet. Built as a temporary haven for Austrian philanthropist Conrad Ulster, it eventually became his permanent home. During the early 1930s, Ulster, an avid collector of rare artifacts, sensed the political instability in his country and realized there was a good chance that his prized library would be seized by the Nazis. To protect himself and his books, he smuggled his collection across the Swiss border in railcars, hidden under thin layers of lignite, a low-quality brown coal, and dropped from public view until after World War II. He eventually died in 1964 but expressed his utmost thanks to the people of Switzerland by donating his estate to his adopted hometown of Kusendorf — provided that they keep his collection intact and accessible to the world’s finest academic minds.

Payne wasn’t sure if his ragtag group of fugitives would qualify under those high standards, but they were planning to find out the instant the facility opened in the morning. While they waited, he booked a large suite at a local lodge and bribed the night manager to open the lobby store so they could get a fresh set of clothes and something to eat. They took an hour to get cleaned up, then met in the main room of their suite to discuss Boyd’s affiliation with the CIA.

Boyd said, ‘I realize I don’t possess the suave looks of a spy. But there’s no need to. The fact is I’ve spent the better part of three decades working at Dover as a professor. The only time I do otherwise is when I’m asked to complete a task. Sometimes it’s something simple like smuggling documents out of a country. Other times it’s more complicated like convincing a diplomat to defect. The truth is, I never know what it’s going to be until I’m notified.’

Payne asked, ‘And what were you told in this case?’

‘That’s the amazing thing — this isn’t a case. This was strictly an academic dig. Or at least it was supposed to be. This had nothing to do with a CIA agenda. Absolutely nothing.’

Payne grimaced. ‘See, that’s where I’m having a problem. Unless I’m mistaken, most academic digs don’t involve helicopters, guns, and exploding buses. Right?’

Boyd was about to explain the legend of the Catacombs when he realized he could do better. Instead of dealing in myths and theories, he could use Maria’s video as the ultimate visual aid. Payne and Jones watched, speechless, as the tape documented the grandeur of the Catacombs and the bronze casing of the Tiberius scroll. Boyd chirped in whenever he felt it was necessary, but the truth was they barely listened to him, for the details on the screen were more than enough to convince them that Boyd and Maria weren’t a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.

When the video ended, Jones focused his attention on Boyd. ‘Back in Milan you said something about your discovery killing a religion. What were you talking about? I didn’t see anything on this tape that would have a negative effect on the Church.’

Boyd shook his head. ‘The last object you saw — the bronze cylinder we found — contained a papyrus scroll with a very significant message. A message that casts doubt over the entire world of Christianity. If made public, people would simply stop believing. Churches would crumble. Coffers would turn to dust. In a word, ruin — both spiritual and financial.’

Jones glanced at Maria, then back at Boyd. ‘That seems a bit dramatic, doesn’t it? I mean, I’m not the most religious guy in the world, but even if I was, I certainly don’t think an ancient piece of paper would have that much effect on my beliefs. If any at all.’

‘Well,’ Boyd sneered, ‘we’ll have to see about that. You wait right there, and I shall fetch the document that will make you feel the fool.’

Maria kept quiet until Boyd left the room. Then she apologized for Boyd’s tone. ‘Don’t take that personally. I just think it’s his way to blow off steam… Besides, the fact is you should have some doubts about this. I know I did — even about the Catacombs themselves. Of course, there’s nothing like some visual proof to contradict a childhood of lectures.’

Jones smiled. ‘A childhood? Just how long have you known Dr Boyd?’

‘Oh, not his lectures. My father’s. He’s always been a disbeliever when it came to the Catacombs. And trust me, his words carry more weight than most. He’s something of an expert.’

There was something about the way she said ‘expert’ that made Jones flash back to their conversation in Milan. Maria Magdalena Pelati. Her name was Pelati, and her father was an expert on Orvieto. Suddenly, Jones realized that wasn’t a coincidence.

‘Maria,’ he stuttered, ‘is your father’s name Benito?’

‘Yes,’ she said, confused. ‘How did you know?’

Jones rubbed his eyes. ‘Holy shit! You’re his daughter. Benito Pelati’s daughter!’

Payne winced. ‘What? Why didn’t you tell us you were his daughter?’

‘I didn’t know you knew who he was. Besides, what does he have to do with anything?’

Payne looked at her in disbelief. ‘You can’t be that naive. He has everything to do with this. He’s the goddamned godfather of Orvieto! He runs the whole town.’

Boyd heard the commotion and emerged from the other room. ‘People, what is it?’

Payne answered. ‘We just found out who she is. She’s Benito Pelati’s daughter.’