English translation followed the same rhyming scheme as Megan’s letter.
The fortune belongs to my heir,
Who will be chased ’til out of breath.
Hidden in ink inside his lair,
Where black and white shall conquer Death.
As soon as Ulster was done, he handed the paper to Payne so he could examine the translation in closer detail. Megan and Jones leaned in next to him and read it at the same time.
Several seconds later, Jones made the first
‘Enough,’ Payne said, cutting him off. ‘We get your point.’
‘Good! Because that shit is freaky.’
Megan smiled at Payne. ‘You have to admit, this verse is rather specific. You guys
‘And apparently we’re going to kill the bastard,’ Jones added.
‘Sure,’ Payne said, ‘that’s
Jones snatched the paper from Payne’s grasp. ‘If we’re going to die, I
‘Actually,’ Payne said, ‘the other interpretation has nothing to do with us. It has to do with a book.’
Ulster stared at him. ‘A book?’
Payne grabbed the paper and handed it back to Ulster. ‘Read line three.’
He did as he was told. ‘Hidden in ink inside his lair.’
‘Didn’t you tell us that Nostradamus might have been working on a book of prophecies
Ulster nodded. ‘I read several rumours about it. Nothing certain, but a lot of speculation.’
‘And if he wrote it in ink, wouldn’t it be in “black and white”?’
‘I guess it would, but—’
Payne continued. ‘And if someone finds it and reads his words after all this time, wouldn’t his journal be beating death? After all, Nostradamus has been dead for several centuries.’
Ulster groaned. ‘I suppose so, yes.’
‘What about the first two lines? Are they about me?’ Megan wondered.
Payne shrugged. ‘Maybe. Of course, we still don’t have any proof that you’re related to Nostradamus. Despite the letter you received, we don’t have verification that he’s actually talking about you. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. But as I’ve said all along, that’s the beauty of Nostradamus.
‘I have to admit, I’m kind of relieved. When I read that “out of breath” part, I thought it meant I was going to die.’
Jones grinned. ‘I thought you were a goner for sure.’
Payne shook his head. ‘Even if she
‘Which brings us to the fortune,’ Jones said.
‘What about it?’
‘It’s been mentioned more than once.’
‘True,’ Payne said, ‘but something dawned on me while reading this poem. What if the fortune
‘Oh,’ Megan muttered, disappointed. ‘Maybe he’s right.’
‘Or maybe I’m wrong,’ Payne admitted. ‘For all I know, Nostradamus might have been talking about a giant treasure in your future, and he might have been talking about DJ and I killing Frankie Death. Or maybe we’re just seeing things in his words that aren’t really there. The truth is we don’t know what’s going to happen — who’s going to live and who’s going to die. For that reason alone, I need to approach this thing like any other mission.’
‘Meaning?’
He stared at Megan. ‘I’m sending you and Petr to the Archives.’
‘I don’t care what you say or how loud you scream,’ he said in a calm tone. ‘You are
‘But this is my fight, too!’
He shook his head, resolute. ‘You didn’t start this fight, and you’re not going to finish it. Right now the only thing I care about is your survival. Hell, I don’t care if you never talk to me again. I just want you to live long enough to make that decision when all of this is done.’
She glanced at Ulster, looking for support. ‘And you’re okay with this?’
Ulster nodded. ‘More than okay. In fact, I fully support it. Trust me, my dear, the Archives are a tad more comfortable than that vault at Sotheby’s. Remember how dreadful that was? Although I admire your spunk, I think it’s time for us to step aside. While the boys are in Bruges, we can make a large contribution in Kusendorf.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Research, my dear, research! We need to authenticate your letter, and the puzzle box must be examined in much greater detail. Of course, there’s also the matter of your family tree. I have some wonderful new software that will aid our
65
Ostend, Belgium
Located near the Belgian coast in the Flemish province of West Flanders, the Ostend-Bruges International Airport is a small facility that mostly handles charter and cargo flights. Because of a scarcity of passengers, the terminal’s security was typically a rubber-stamp procedure. Customs officials checked passports and cargo manifests, but if everything appeared to be in order, people and crates were cleared without much hassle.
Payne and Jones weren’t worried about their identification. They had fake passports with fake names made by the Pentagon. However, they were concerned with the cargo they were bringing into the country. Before Ulster’s security staff picked up Megan and Ulster and took them to the Archives, they filled a wooden crate with guns and supplies and loaded it onto the plane. The guards covered the crate in stickers that said:
Custom officers were afraid of breaking a priceless relic.
A cargo van and additional supplies, arranged by Ulster, were waiting for Payne and Jones when they arrived. They loaded the crate into the back, then pulled through the main gate of the terminal. It was early afternoon, and Bruges was less than thirty minutes away.
They had plenty of time to prepare for their mission.
Belgian days are quite short in mid-December. The sun doesn’t rise until after 8.30 a.m., and it sets well before 5 p.m. That gave Payne and Jones more than two hours of darkness to play with. Two hours to survey Chateau Dubois and search for guards before Keller would be called at 7 p.m. After that, they would use the element of surprise to gain the upper hand.
For two ex-MANIACs, home-field advantage made little difference.
Wearing dark clothes, Payne and Jones parked the van in the nearby woods and hiked a half mile to the edge of Dubois’s property. His fourteenth-century castle sat in the middle of several acres of land, most of which was overgrown with trees and bushes. In the summertime when everything was in bloom, passage would have been
