'Christ.'

Shaking his head in disbelief, Caedmon double-checked the crudely rendered chart. He then lurched to his feet and turned about face, towards the granite peak that loomed on the southern horizon. Mont de la Lune.

'Moon Mountain' as it had been called eight hundred years ago.

He barely suppressed the urge to rear his head and shout a joyful hosanna. While the clue might not lead to the Grail, it was a signpost. A new direction in which to venture forth.

On a wing, and even a prayer, so goeth the intrepid Fool.

Anxious to be on his way, Caedmon hurriedly shoved the BlackBerry into his jacket pocket and returned the journal to his rucksack. He then rushed towards the stone steps that led from the ramparts to the courtyard below, an unshaven, khaki-clad wayfarer ready to embark on la quete du Graal.

G.o.d help him.

48.

Grande Arche Belvedere, Paris 1059 hours 'Hey, Katie. What's the matter?' Finn slid his Oakley sungla.s.ses on to the top of his head. 'And please don't tell me that you're scared of heights.' Standing on the rooftop of the Grande Arche building, at the eastern side of the belvedere, they had a bird's-eye-view of the Axe Historique, a.k.a. the Champs-elysees, thirty-five storeys below. With all of the ultra-modern architecture in the near vicinity, the area resembled a cityscape from a sci-fi movie.

Although Finn didn't consider it much of a tourist attraction, a crowd nonetheless shuffled along the barricaded perimeter of the rooftop. Bright-blue telescopes were set up every ten feet or so, tourists plopping coins into the slots so they could ooh and ahh over the wonders of Paris magnified umpteen times.

Kate seated herself on a nearby bench. 'I'm concerned about this so-called "mission op",' she told him in a subdued tone of voice. 'After everything that happened yesterday, is it prudent to go on the offensive?'

'Grabbing the bull by the b.a.l.l.s is the only way that I can get justice for Corporals Dixon and Kelleher. The Dark Angel will pay in a court of law for what she did to my two buddies.' Homily delivered, Finn figured a little bolstering was in order as Kate was obviously suffering from a bad case of battlefield jitters. 'Do you have any idea how much it costs to train a special ops soldier? I'll tell ya it costs three quarters of a million dollars.' He paused, letting the fact soak in. 'In other words, I know what I'm doing. Besides, they have no idea that we're even here.' 'They' being the Seven, who had their headquarters on the thirty-fifth floor of the Grande Arche. The penthouse suite directly below them.

According to Fabius Jutier's calendar, an eleven o'clock board meeting of the Seven Research Foundation had been scheduled. With all of the princ.i.p.al players in attendance, it was Finn's chance to storm the castle gate.

'You're right.' Kate smiled sheepishly. 'Sorry for being such a nervous Nellie.'

'Hey, it's understandable.' Glad they'd got over the hump without incident, Finn sat down beside her.

Granted, it wasn't the most comfortable seat in the house, but he'd seen one too many uniformed police prowling around below deck. Just as worrisome, with the exception of the rooftop, there were video cameras mounted everywhere. If his image was captured and matched to his military photo enabling the authorities to close in on him he'd have no choice but to abort the mission. And leave Dixie and Johnny K hanging in limbo. No way in h.e.l.l was he going to let that happen.

In this man's army, you don't leave your comrades behind.

Leaning against the metal bench, Finn put an arm around Kate's shoulders while he took in the view. While the Grande Arche came in at a respectable height, the marble-clad structure was dwarfed by the towering steel and mirrored gla.s.s buildings that surrounded it. The reflected light near blinding, Finn slipped his shades back on.

'I'm curious, Finn ... why did you join the army?'

An innocent enough question but, unbeknownst to Kate, it struck a deep chord.

Seventeen years may have come and gone, but Finn could still vividly recall his treeless South Boston neighbourhood with the ramshackle three-storey terraced houses and chain-link fences, the streets lined with dented aluminium trash cans. Oppressive as h.e.l.l. It became even more oppressive after his brother Mickey joined the McMullen Gang. On more than one occasion, Finn was picked up by Boston's finest, the bad-a.s.s badges mistaking him for his twin brother. That's when Finn decided to get out of South Boston before some rival gang member mistook him for Mickey and pulled the trigger. The US Army offered the perfect means of escape.

'Since I've always been something of an adrenaline junkie, the military was a natural choice,' he told Kate, that as good an answer as any. 'In addition to all of the action, along the way I've picked up an interesting skills set.'

Kate folded her arms over her chest. A challenging tilt to her chin, she said, 'Let me guess? All of these skills have to do with guns, ammo and chasing enemy combatants.'

'Not true. Back in '92 when I first got out of basic training, I was stationed at a refugee camp along the IraqTurkey border. That's where I learned how to deliver a baby.'

Almost comically, Kate's mouth fell open. 'Are you kidding me? You, the rough, tough, macho commando, delivered a baby?'

'No easy feat given that those camps were like the wild, wild west. Except instead of six-shooters, they carried Kalashnikovs. I was with the army battalion responsible for maintaining order in the camps. Because of the Islamic prohibitions, I wasn't supposed to look this pregnant woman in the eye, let alone peer at her, um ' Finn cleared his throat, no further explanation needed. 'I'd already radioed HQ that I needed a female nurse, doctor, soldier, anyone female to come to my a.s.sistance.'

'Did anyone arrive?'

'Just as I'm standing there holding this itty-bitty b.l.o.o.d.y baby in my hands, tears of joy streaming down my face that the kid was even breathing, the nurse finally showed up.' He chortled, able now, years later, to see the humour in it. 'From South Boston to Kurdistan. Of course, I've been all over the world since then.'

'Which no doubt explains why you're so jaded about Paris,' Kate retorted, good-naturedly elbowing him in the ribs.

'If you think I'm unaffected by all this ' he gestured to the Arc de Triomphe L'etoile, visible in the hazy distance 'think again. The difference between us is that I refuse to let the romance of the place go to my head. The Seven know that we're in Paris. Trust me, they're just waiting for that split-second when I go all ga-ga because I'm standing in front of some famous Parisian landmark and I drop my guard.'

A dubious expression on her face, Kate shook her head. 'I cannot imagine you going "ga-ga" over anything.'

Oh, you'd be surprised.

Last night, sacked out on a hard floor, he kept dreaming about Kate. Talk about going ga-ga. Hot dreams full of wild, writhing s.e.x, he was finally forced to sneak off to the bathroom to get some relief.

Removing his arm from her shoulders, Finn unzipped his Go Bag and retrieved a bottle of water. 'Here you go.' Uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the cap, he handed it to Kate.

'Thanks.'

He watched as she took several sips, the muscles in her throat rhythmically working with each swallow. Thinking it was a s.e.xy sight, Finn snorted caustically. Great. Another night of getting in touch with myself.

'Do you think the Seven Research Foundation is actually going to give you the Dark Angel in exchange for the Montsegur Medallion?' Kate asked, returning the bottle to him.

'I won't know until I make the offer. If they accept, the exchange will occur at the place and time of my choosing. Probably as close to the American Emba.s.sy as can be arranged. Then, when I have the Dark Angel in my custody, I'll alert Marine Security at the emba.s.sy that we're on our way.' And if they didn't accept, he had a back-up plan.

'You do know that if the Seven Research Foundation has the Montsegur Medallion, they can use it to find the Grail?'

'Like I care.' He glanced at his watch. 1110. Time for Phase One of the mission op to kick off. 'The scheduled meeting started ten minutes ago.' He unclipped his cell phone from his waist. He then removed a small digital voice recorder and earbud microphone from his Go Bag. 'We're wheels up in fifteen seconds. You ready?'

Kate nodded weakly. While not as gung-ho as he would have liked, the tepid response was to be expected. Scrolling through his phonebook, he selected the number he'd earlier programmed for the Seven Research Foundation.

The call was answered on the first ring by a French-speaking female.

'Hey, how ya doin'? This is Finn McGuire calling. I'm trying to get a-hold of the Seven Dwarfs. It's real important that I speak with Dopey. Although if he's not available, you can patch me through to the head dwarf, Ivo Uhlemann.'

'Un moment, Monsieur McGuire.'

'So far, so good,' Finn said to Kate in a lowered voice as he inserted the small earbud into his left ear and connected the cable into the jack on the digital recorder. One of his newly purchased toys, the earbud mike would enable him to record both sides of the cell-phone conversation on the digital recorder. The digital recorder would, in turn, date and time stamp the conversation. Absolutely necessary for an evidentiary recording. He knew it wasn't enough to capture the Dark Angel and turn her over to the authorities. He needed proof that the Seven Research Foundation had ordered the hits on Dixie and Johnny K.

As they'd earlier rehea.r.s.ed, Kate took charge of the digital recorder. She rolled her free hand several times to let him know that she'd started the recording.

'Ah, Sergeant McGuire. Guten tag. We were hoping that you would call,' a male voice said in heavily accented English.

'Are you Ivo Uhlemann?'

'I am Doctor Ivo Uhlemann. And may I offer my condolences for the loss of your two comrades?'

'No, you may not,' Finn tersely informed the polite b.a.s.t.a.r.d. 'In case you haven't heard, you can't take the pee out of the pool. That said, a few days ago I spoke to one of your compradres, a dude by the name of Fabius Jutier. Unfortunately, the conversation dead-ended on me.'

'I trust this conversation will have a more satisfactory ending,' Uhlemann replied, refusing to comment on Jutier's suicide. 'In exchange for the Montsegur Medallion, we've put together an offer that I think you will find most interesting.'

Finn decided to play along. 'Okay. What are you putting on the table?'

'We are offering you a place at the table. Yesterday, we were greatly impressed with your skills ... We believe that you would make an excellent addition to our organization.'

49.

Seven Research Foundation Headquarters, Paris 1113 hours 'And will you issue me a n.a.z.i uniform?' Finnegan McGuire taunted. 'Or better yet, can I get one of those cool Black Sun tattoos on my left pec?'

Deeply offended, Ivo Uhlemann glared at the telephone console. Sitting at the head of the brushed-metal conference table, he involuntarily placed his right hand over his heart. In 1940, the head of the SS, Heinrich Himmler, had decreed that each member of the Seven must be tattooed with the Black Sun emblem. At first, all seven men were horrified. However, as the years pa.s.sed, the tattoo came to symbolize their undying dedication to finding the Lapis Exillis. To honour that commitment, their progeny bore the same tattoo.

'The Seven Research Foundation is a consortium of enlightened scholars and scientists,' Ivo replied, curbing his annoyance. 'Given your background, we would like to make you our Chief Security Officer. In addition to the yearly five-million-dollar salary, you will be provided with a furnished two-bedroom flat in the sixth arrondis.e.m.e.nt and a BMW E60.'

'A Beemer. Nice.'

Taking the truncated reply as a positive sign, Ivo continued. 'If you join our ranks, we will ensure that all murder charges against you are dropped. Your good name and reputation will be restored. Honour will be satisfied.'

'Then you don't know the meaning of that word,' the American retorted snidely. 'I can't think of anything more dishonourable than allowing that b.i.t.c.h, the Dark Angel, to get away with two brutal murders.'

As Ivo considered his reply, he glanced at the other board members seated around the table. Originally comprised of nineteen members, disease, old age and, in the case of Fabius Jutier, an unfortunate suicide, had reduced their number to ten. As the Chairman, he was their designated spokesman.

'We are well aware, Sergeant McGuire, that you expect us to turn over the Dark Angel in exchange for the Montsegur Medallion. Unfortunately, that point is non-negotiable.'

'Then there's nothing for us to discuss. I mean, h.e.l.l, why should I throw in my lot with the group who ordered the murders of Corporal Lamar Dixon and Corporal John Kelleher?'

'Because, in addition to the generous compensation package, we are offering you an opportunity to join an elite foundation that is engaged in history-altering research.'

The sales pitch met with a lengthy silence.

Ivo saw the uneasy glances. They needed Sergeant McGuire's cooperation. Das Gro Versuch could not be performed without the requisite component. Which they could not locate without the encoded map engraved on the Montsegur Medallion. They'd just laid an enticing trap. To lure their quarry into the open, the American's greed had to trump his distorted sense of honour.

'Okay, Ivo, I gotta be honest ... your offer is d.a.m.n tempting,' McGuire said at last. 'I need to think on it a while.'

'How much time do you require?'

'You'll have my answer no later than midnight tonight. In addition to the allotted time, a cease-fire will be in effect while I ponder my decision. If, during the cease-fire, I catch sight of Goldilocks or the bald-headed dude, I will destroy the Montsegur Medallion. Unless I'm mistaken, gold melts at two thousand and twelve degrees Fahrenheit.'

'Please give me a moment, Sergeant McGuire. I must confer with my colleagues.' Ivo reached across the table and pushed the MUTE b.u.t.ton on the console.

There was no mistaking the palpable tension around the conference table as the other nine members stared expectantly at him.

'The matter is now open for discussion,' he announced.

Matilda Zimmerman, former Director of the Linguistics Department at the University of Heidelberg, was the first to speak. 'Would the American actually destroy the medallion?'

'Sergeant McGuire does not strike me as a man who makes idle threats,' Ivo replied. His a.s.sessment caused several in the group to nod vigorously. 'However, the offer that we tendered to him is generous to an extreme.'

'What if he doesn't accept our offer?' Otto Fa.s.sbinder enquired anxiously. A retired editor-in-chief of the Journal of the German Geological Society, his field of expertise was the effect of crystal geodes on telluric energy currents.

'The Americans are the most avaricious people on the planet. As they themselves are fond of saying, "Every man has his price." ' Ivo opened the manila folder that he'd brought to the meeting. 'We are also monitoring Caedmon Aisquith's movements as a back-up contingency.'

'Why don't we just capture the Englishman?' This from Wilhelm Koch, an American who owned a successful maths-based engineering firm in California's Silicon Valley.

'Because there's a slim possibility that he might actually find the Lapis Exillis.' Ivo stared contemplatively at the dossier that he'd received yesterday from his contact at the Ministry of Defence. A recently retired MI5 intelligence officer, Aisquith had an academic background in Egyptology and medieval studies. A unique skills set, to say the least, which was the reason why he'd sent one of his best men to the Languedoc to shadow the Englishman. According to the latest update, Aisquith had left Montsegur an hour ago.

'I will give you two minutes to further discuss the matter. Then we will put it to a vote.'

Slowly rising to his feet, Ivo suffered an intense burst of pain. He required more a.n.a.lgesic, the time span between injections becoming of increasingly short duration.

Having already decided how he would cast his vote, Ivo walked over to the plate-gla.s.s window on the other side of the conference room. From his vantage point, he could see the Grande Arche reflected in the gaudy mirrored office building directly opposite, the open cube being at the western terminus of the Axe Historique. And just as the Grande Arche owed its existence to the Seven Research Foundation, the Axe Historique owed its existence to the mighty Knights Templar.

At the onset of the fourteenth century, the Templars were poised to become the most technologically advanced force in medieval Europe. In addition to their expansive property holdings, their large fleet of s.h.i.+ps and their battle-ready army of warrior-monks, the Templars were a financial powerhouse. For those reasons alone, they gave many European monarchs fitful sleep. But one monarch in particular, the French king Philippe le Bel, had more reason than most to fear the Templars. In the summer of 1306, Philippe had begged asylum at the Templars' Paris headquarters during a bout of civil unrest. An impolite guest, Philippe spent his time snooping through the Templars' extensive library. Which is how he discovered the Templars' secret blueprint for the city of Paris. Although he couldn't comprehend the science behind the design, Philippe astutely realized that the Knights Templar possessed ancient knowledge that could be used to conquer the monarchy. Perhaps the whole of Europe.

It left the French king with no choice but to destroy the mighty order of warrior-monks.

To the consternation of later monarchs, Philippe le Bel was not entirely successful. While the Knights Templar were destroyed, their blueprint survived intact, pa.s.sed down from one secret society to the next. The Rosicrucians, the Freemasons, Cagliostro's Egyptian Rite just a few of the groups that endeavoured to complete the ley line in the hopes that they might be the ones to find the Lapis Exillis.

Acutely aware that time was running out, Ivo stared at the reflected cube. In two days' time, Sirius would rise with the sun. Because the Vril force could only be generated during the heliacal rising of Sirius, when the astral energy of that star was at its peak, das Gro Versuch could only be performed on that one specific day.

According to his doctors, he didn't have another year to wait until the next heliacal rising.

'We're ready to vote,' Professor Zimmerman announced.

Returning to the conference table, Ivo said, 'All those in favour of granting a temporary cease-fire, please raise your hand.'

Although there was obvious reluctance etched on to two or three faces, all of the board members, including Ivo, raised their right hand.

Decision reached, Ivo pressed the SPEAKER b.u.t.ton on the telephone console. 'We agree to your terms, Sergeant McGuire. A cease-fire is in effect until midnight.'

'Smart chess move,' McGuire said brusquely before disconnecting the call.

'Now what?'

Ivo glanced at Professor Zimmerman. 'As Finnegan McGuire adroitly remarked, it is a chess match. Our trap has been laid and I am confident that it will end in checkmate.'

At which point, Sergeant McGuire will lose the game, the Montsegur Medallion and his life.