Infernal Games (Templar Chronicles Urban Fantasy Series) (14 page)

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T
hey
drove past the house once in order to match the lay of the land with what they
had seen in the satellite photos. It was a single-story dwelling set back
from the street behind a thick hedge and tall iron gates. There were no cars
in front of the house and no sign of anyone inside as far as he could see, but
Riley hadn’t expected there to be. Cade wasn’t going to make a hash out of
such basic tradecraft; he was too good for that.

All
four of them were dressed in bright blue windbreakers with the words U.S.
Marshal on their backs in yellow letters and had badges on lanyards around
their necks. If someone bothered to run the badges, they’d even come back as
legitimate; the Order had had their fingers inside the computer systems of the
major U.S. law enforcement agencies for decades now. In consideration of the
roles they were supposed to be playing, they’d left the heavy firepower at
home. They were all carrying their standard issue HK Mark 23 handguns and
Ortega was armed with a Mossberg combat shotgun, but that was all. They
weren’t planning to have a shoot-out with their former commander after all,
just a sit-down chat.

Martinez
was behind the wheel of the Suburban and he pulled into the driveway as they
came up on the house a second time. In the passenger seat Riley kept his gaze
focused on the door and windows of the house in front of them as Martinez
rolled down the window and punched the access code into the control panel for
the gate. There was a short buzz and then the gate was rolling back to let
them onto the property.

“Stay
sharp and let’s get this done right,” Riley called.

Martinez
pulled the Suburban to a halt at the end of the drive as the others popped the
doors and made for the front entrance in a triangle formation with Riley in the
lead. Riley knew Martinez would go around back and prevent anyone from trying
to escape that way while they breached the front door, so he put the other man
out of his mind and concentrated on the job ahead.

Up
the stairs, over to the door, try the knob.

Locked.

Step
back and let Simmons get in with the ram. One short, sharp swing of the
forty-pound hunk of solid steel against the interior edge of the door and he
and Ortega were moving in, shouting, “U.S. Marshals” as they entered the home,
guns out and at the ready.

Living
room led to kitchen led to twin bedrooms and a bathroom in back. It took them
less than two minutes to cover the entire property and as shouts of “clear”
came back from the others Riley lowered his pistol and looked around.

The
graffiti on the walls was the first clue to who had actually been inside the
property yesterday.

The
Order maintained the safe houses in good quality, with simple but adequate
furnishing in case knights on assignment had to stay there for any length of
time. As such they were normally outfitted with televisions, desktop
computers, sometimes even gaming systems like an Xbox or Wii to allow the team members
to wind down after a mission.

Looking
from the kitchen into the living room, Riley could see that all of the
electronics were missing. The entertainment center stood bare and graffiti
tags, most likely the gang signs and symbols of those who had broken in to rip
the place off, had been painted on the walls, the ceiling, and even the leather
couch.

Their
fugitive hadn’t tipped the alarm codes, the thieves had when they’d been
deactivating them!

“Damn
it!” Riley swore and kicked the door of the nearest cabinet closed with one
booted foot.

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W
hile
Riley was casing an abandoned safe house in Norwalk, Connecticut, Cade sat in
his rental car at a local restaurant/bar down the street from the commandery in
Bristol, Rhode Island, making sure he had his story straight before making his
move. His session with Stone had been informative, to say the least, and now
he had to put what he had learned to use.

He’d
wracked his brain during the drive north, trying to come up with some way to
penetrate the security surrounding the commandery without having to involve
anyone else and quite simply couldn’t come up with one. He’d personally
designed the complex’s security systems and had covered every angle he could
think of at the time. Nothing new had occurred to him in the months since. If
there was a way inside the commandery without being seen, Cade didn’t know it.

With
no other option available to him, he decided a little subterfuge would be
necessary to get inside and put back on the black uniform of the parish priest
that had worked so well in France.

He
picked up his cell phone and dialed a number from memory. The phone rang
several times and then went straight to voicemail. Cade cursed, thought for a
moment, and then tried another number.

After
three rings a gruff voice answered, “Yeah?”

“Lyons?”

There
was a pause and then, “Knight Commander?”

Lyons
had been the sergeant in charge of Echo’s Fourth Squad under Cade’s command for
almost two years. The Chiang Shih incident had left him with a permanent limp
and he’d been reassigned to a position as weapons master, teaching the
initiates how to shoot on the commandery range, Cade had heard. They hadn’t
been tight, not like he and Riley were, but Lyons would certainly do him a
favor if asked.

Provided
the alarm hadn’t been raised yet.

“Yeah,
it’s me.” The two men chatted for a few moments without Cade getting the sense
that anything was wrong, so he pretended to get to the point of his call.

“Listen,
I drove down to do some research in the library and got all the way here before
I realized I’d forgotten my credentials. I’m parked at Charlie’s down the
street. Think you could pop over and vouch for me at the gate?”

“Sure.
Give me ten minutes to get this current class out of here and I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks.”

Cade
hung up the phone, got out of the car, and walked over to the convenience store
that shared the parking lot with Charlie’s Restaurant and Bar. He went inside
and then stood by the magazine rack, pretending to leaf through an issue of
Popular Science while keeping his eye on the parking lot outside.

If
Lyons was a better actor than he gave him credit for and arranged for a team to
try and take him into custody, Cade would be able to see them coming with
enough time to slip out the back and make his getaway. He couldn’t be caught,
not yet; Gabrielle’s life, and quite possibly her very soul, depended on it.

Cade’s
worry turned out to be unnecessary. He watched as Lyons’ pickup truck rolled
into the lot a few minutes later with only Lyons inside it. No other vehicles
came swooping in behind it, so Cade was confident the flag had yet to go up.
Soon, maybe, but for now it seemed he still had room to maneuver.

As
Lyons got out of his vehicle, no doubt intending to go inside, Cade stepped out
of the convenience store and called his name.

Lyons
didn’t recognize him at first, not with his hair brushed differently and the dark-framed
glasses on Cade’s face. He was further surprised to find Cade wearing the
black “uniform” of a Catholic priest and carrying a leather attache case in one
hand. “You already missed Halloween, Commander,” he joked, as they climbed
inside his truck.

He
stiffened when Cade took the pistol out of his attaché case and pointed it at
him, saying, “I know, but you should probably just think of this as a
trick-or-treat gag anyway, okay?”

Lyons
already light complexion went paler still.

“What
the hell, Cade?” he asked, the anger in his voice evident.

“Sorry,
old friend, but I need to get inside the Commandery and you’re going to help me
do it.”

“Fuck
you! I’m not going anywhere. I know you; you aren’t going to shoot me.”

Cade
took off his fake glasses and stared Lyons hard in the face without saying
anything.

After
a moment, Lyons reached out and started the truck.

“What
do you want me to do?” he asked, in a resigned voice.

That’s
right
, Cade thought.
You do know me. And you know I’ll stop at nothing
to get what I need when my back is to the wall. Like it is now.

“Just drive,” Cade said, “and I’ll explain
what’s going to happen.”

Five minutes later they pulled up the
commandery gates. Cade’s hand was inside the attache case in his lap, the
muzzle pointed at Lyons. He’d shoot if he had to; that was the one thing
keeping Lyons in line at the moment, the recognition that Cade was desperate
and desperate men are dangerous because they have nothing to lose.

Lyons
handed over his credentials, along with Cade’s fake passport.

Recognizing
Lyons, the guard asked, “Who do you have with you, Sergeant?”

“Monsignor
Evans, visiting from the Vatican.”

The
guard glanced first at the passport, then at Cade, before turning the
documentation back over to Lyons. “Enjoy the rest of the afternoon, Sergeant.”

Lyons
laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

Cade
didn’t relax until they were inside the gates and headed down into the
underground parking structure beneath the main manor house.

Like many of the other commanderies across
the country, this one extended below ground for several levels. It was here
that much of the community’s actual work took place; monitoring world events, training
weaponry and tactics, teaching the initiates the history and philosophies that
were the cornerstones of Templar belief. Here, hidden from view, lay the true
work of the Order. The underground levels contained classrooms, laboratories,
gymnasium facilities, a shooting range, and even a full-scale replica of a
two-bedroom house used for live-fire exercises was tucked away in a large
cavern on the third level below the surface.

Beneath all of that, was the reliquary.

To
get there, they had to pass through several highly trafficked areas and Cade
was worried Lyons might use the opportunity to cause some trouble. At this
point the Templar sergeant was resigned to his role, however, and he led Cade
deeper into the complex without difficult.

Eventually,
they came to an elevator and rode that down to the lowest floor. When the door
opened, Cade reached out and pushed the Fire Call button three times in quick
succession. The doors slid shut and the car began to descend again.

Lyons
was surprised; apparently he hadn’t known about the additional levels. “What
the...?”

He
was starting to sound like a broken record and Cade had had enough. He slipped
his hand into his attaché case and found what he was looking for. When the
elevator chimed, indicating they’d reached the lowest level, Cade popped off
the cap with his finger and stepped closer to Lyons.

“Sorry,
man,” he said and jabbed him in the upper arm with the syringe in his hand, the
one that he’d taken from the safe houses’ interrogation supplies. Inside was a
mixture of Ativan and Haldol, designed to put a full grown man down in
seconds. Lyons barely had time to mutter a surprised, “What did you do that
for?” before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Cade
caught him as he collapsed, then waited for the doors to open. When they did,
he glanced out, saw the hallway was empty, and decided to take a chance.
Rather than leave Lyons in the elevator, where he might be found, he dragged
the other man down the hall to a set of offices he’d noticed the last time he
was here.

Using
the door to help support Lyons’ weight, Cade took his old keycard out of his
pocket and slipped it the reader, hoping it still worked.

An
agonizing ten seconds passed before the lock clicked and the door opened,
spilling Lyons unconscious body into the room and nearly dragging Cade down as
well. Cade stepped inside, grabbed one of Lyons’ arms and pulled him the rest
of the way across the threshold, then shut the door behind them.

The
room was arranged like an office, with a desk, chairs, even a coffee maker, but
given the level of dust on everything it was clear that no one had used the
room in awhile.

Cade
dragged Lyons around behind one of the desks, out of sight of anyone peering
into the room, and laid him flat on his back. He checked to be sure the man
was breathing okay and then arranged the chairs to hide his body as best he was
able.

On
to the reliquary
, he thought.

He
left the attaché case behind since he would no longer need it and stepped back
into the hallway, gun in hand. He closed the door to the office behind him and
walked down the hall to the last office on the left at the end of the hall. Like
the others, this one had a card reader bolted next to the door but it also had
hand scanner and a keypad.

Now
came the tricky part. If the system had been changed since Stone was in
charge, if the failsafe he’d had built into the system had been discovered and
disabled, Cade’s little adventure was going to end right here.

And
if it did work, he was going to have the pleasure of dealing with the armed men
in the command center on the other side of the door the moment he stepped
inside. There would be four to six of them. Not good odds any way you looked
at the situation, but it couldn’t be helped.

Momentarily
slipping the gun into the waistband of his pants at the small of his back so he
would have his hands free, Cade stepped up to the hand scanner. He placed his
right palm against the device, and then, using his left hand, he simultaneously
pressed the buttons in all four corners of the keypad as the scanner checked
his palm print.

The
door in front of him unlocked with a click that seemed to echoed in the empty
hallway.