Shadow Ritual (25 page)

“The rest is just fantasy then?”

“As with a lot of things, people think the Freemasons have much more influence than we really have. Take the seal on the dollar bill. You’ve seen the pyramid with the eye at the top. It’s recognized as a Masonic symbol, and, indeed, many of the founding fathers were Masons. It’s not likely, though, that they had any big scheme in mind. At the bottom of the seal, there’s a Latin expression,
novus ordo seculorum
, which means ‘new order of the ages.’ Some people think there’s some mysterious message in this. But the phrase probably refers to the establishment of a democracy in the new world—that’s all.”

“But what’s all the secret mumbo jumbo then?”

“It’s about ritual, ritual that hasn’t changed since the eighteenth century. The initiation ritual, for example, has the candidate being purified—symbolically—by the four elements: earth, water, air, and fire. Since ancient times these elements have represented both man and the universe, and they symbolize stages in a person’s journey toward truth. As you go through the ceremony, you move from chaos to the road of creation. Earth is the place of preparation for the trials ahead, a place of passage; water, the origin of life; air, the quest for knowledge; and fire—”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“Being pedantic. Meanwhile, we’re tied up with crazy killers down the hall.”

“Yeah. I hadn’t forgotten that.”

They spent the rest of the night shifting fitfully in the chairs, dozing on and off.

When the first rays of sunlight came through the window, they heard movement in the hallway.

“Hey, anyone out there?” Jade shouted.

The door opened, and the guard came in.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Jade said. “Do you understand?”

The man shook his head. “
Nein, nein
.”

Jade put on her meanest look and shouted, “Sol,
schnell
.”

The man hesitated, then left the room, locking the door behind him. Marcas turned to Jade.

“Is that the best you’ve got? I mean, doesn’t embassy security implant some secret GPS emitter in the heel of your shoe or something like that?”

“Yeah, right. And you, don’t you have some telepathic connection with the Grand Architect of the Universe who could alert your brothers?”

“What a couple we are,” Marcas said. He looked at Jade and saw how pale she was. He didn’t want to think about how ghoulish he looked. He needed a shave, and he probably had dark rings under his eyes.

The key turned in the keyhole, and the door opened. The guard appeared with Joana.

“Sol is still resting. I’m here. Talk,” she said, walking over to Jade, who reared back.

“We want to go to the bathroom and wash up,” Marcas said.

Joana took cutters out of her pocket. “We’re not monsters. Klaus will go with you, but first, I will borrow one of your girlfriend’s little fingers. The gardener’s not entitled to all the fun.”

Before Jade had time to react, Joana clipped off the finger. Jade shrieked in pain. Marcas fought to free himself.

“Stop!”

“Shut up, dog. That is nothing, compared to what she did to me,” Joana said, holding up her crushed hand. “Soon enough, when we are done with you, she will beg me to kill her.”

Jade kept screaming in pain.

66

The candles illuminated the small crypt under the castle. Loki was contemplating the piece of black marble engraved with a circular swastika. It was used in the solstice ceremonies. He hadn’t had any news from Sol in twenty-four hours and was beginning to worry about his daughter. His fellow board members had been looking at him oddly since his last conversation with Sol. It didn’t matter. He’d be rid of all those incompetents soon enough.

Heimdall had wanted to speak to him alone.

Loki heard heavy footsteps echo in the stone stairwell. He turned and saw Heimdall with a security guard.

“I thought you were coming alone.”

“Loki is the trickster god. I never forget that. Operation Hiram is canceled.”

Loki moved closer to the altar. “How is that? Sol will be furious.”

The two men came toward him. “The board took a vote earlier.”

“Impossible. I wasn’t there.”

“You are no longer part of the Thule.”

Loki regretted not having a weapon with him. “That can’t be.”

“Your cell phone was tapped. We’re aware of Sol’s intentions: the night of long knives. You can understand our displeasure.”

He heard other footsteps. Two armed men entered the crypt. Loki held onto the altar.

“You don’t understand. Operation Hiram is vital for the Thule.”

“Sol is a senile old man chasing ghosts, and he nearly got us made by the French police. He has committed too many errors. These Freemason assassinations are stupid. As for his Palestinian killer, it wouldn’t have taken much for the Israelis to connect him to us. Have you forgotten von Sebottendorf’s principles? Our strength lies in our invisibility. That is how we prosper and remain untouchable.”

“I know that better than you.”

“Enough. Orders have been given to get rid of Sol and your daughter, as well as their prisoners. As for you, we’re going to take you to see your friend.”

Loki stared at him, uncomprehending.

“A maiden.”

“You can’t!”

“The Iron Maiden.”

67

Sol came in next.

“I’m hoping you’ll be amenable to talking now.”

“You’re animals,” Marcas said.

“Joana, show him our merciful side, would you? Bandage up the woman’s hand.” Then Sol focused on Marcas. “The original plan was to organize a full Orden solstice ritual in June, but our schedule has been bumped up. I need your input.”

“Never.”

“My brother—if I may call you that—how much would you like to see this woman of yours suffer?”

Marcas glared at him.

“Our friend Breuil talks about a temple with a pit and a plant. Where do you think we can find that?”

Marcas had already given this some thought, but he was still confused. He glanced at Jade. Her eyes were pleading. He turned to Joanna, who was fiddling with the pruners.

Marcas looked Sol in the eye. “Okay, let’s go over what we know. In Breuil’s ritual, there was a bush with exposed roots, something about life coming from underground to reach the heavens. And we have the brew. That’s not a lot to go on.”

“I’m sure your advanced Masonic knowledge will help you find the answer.”

“There wasn’t anything else about the ritual per se, but he did pay attention to the bitter drink. If I recall, he said that initiation had become a parody.”

“Initiation?” Jade managed to say.

Marcas looked at her. Something clicked. “Yes, initiation. That’s it. The four elements are key to initiation: fire, air, water, earth. Fire, Saint Anthony’s fire, ergot; air,
Amanita muscaria
, the fly amanita; and water, the primordial element. In the
Bvitti
cult, iboga led initiates back to the roots of their existence.”

“And earth?” Sol asked.

“Earth would be the place of preparation and passage.”

“So we dig a pit?” Joana said.

“The pit was symbolic,” Marcas answered. “You’d want some sanctuary, a temple, or, I suppose, a cave. Prehistoric people used them for religious rituals. Some scholars believe painted caves were sacred spaces reserved for connecting with another dimension, like our temples.”

Sol was smiling now. “So we need a cave-temple. And as I’ll be communing with the gods, I want the best possible cave-temple. What do you suggest?”

Marcas was drawing a blank.

“Well?” Sol said. He turned to Joana, “You may be in for some more fun.”

Marcas’s eyes darted from Jade to Sol and Joana as he tried to come up a cave-temple. “You said we’re in Perigord?”

“Not exactly, but close enough.”

His mind was racing: Perigord, southwestern France, truffles, foie gras, Sarlat, Dordogne. “Lascaux,” he finally said.

Sol’s eyes gleamed. “I was right about you, Inspector. Lascaux is perfect. It’s the Sistine Chapel of prehistory. A singular place, ideal for testing the soma of the gods.”

68

The convoy was ready. There had been some commotion in the afternoon, when Hans came and went again. Sol had decided to delay their departure until evening. He wanted to avoid the tourists and Lascaux workers. He needed privacy for his ritual. Sol was wearing a satisfied look as the prisoners, still bound, were brought outside. He nodded at Klaus, the guard, who freed Marcas’s hands and then pointed a gun at Zewinski.

“Don’t try anything stupid, now,” Sol said, handing Marcas a cell phone. “Call one of your Freemason contacts and get us into Lascaux. I want the real caves, not the tourist replica.”

Marcas punched in the number for the worshipful master of his lodge and, keeping his voice as calm as possible, politely inquired about the weather. “I’m so sorry to hear it’s raining in Paris. I’m in Dordogne and I’d like to visit Lascaux—the real cave—this evening. Can you pull some strings at the ministry for me? If that doesn’t work, call my buddy Jaigu. He’s always trying to fix me up with women. Maybe he knows a good-looking blonde at the Committee for the Preservation of Lascaux. That’s right. Tonight. Nine p.m. There will be two of us.”

Marcas ended the call, and Klaus bound his hands again.

“I’m looking forward to the drive. We haven’t finished our discussion,” Sol said. “But first, let’s thank our host, the gardener, for his hospitality.”

Klaus pushed the gardener in front of Sol. The man’s face was covered with blood.

“Our protector of plants and flowers had a strange notion to kill us while we were resting last night. Fortunately, Klaus was watching over us. I suppose he received his orders from the board. Joana, would you take care of him?”

Joana, knife in hand, walked up to the gardener. She plunged the knife into his lower abdomen and pulled it up and to the right. Shrieking, the man collapsed. Sol marched to the SUV without looking back.

“Amazing how much dexterity that girl has even in her left hand. I’m pleased our Joana hasn’t lost her touch. It’ll take about twenty minutes for him to die.”

The gardener was twisting on the ground like an earthworm cut in half.

Klaus pushed Jade and Marcas into their seats in the back. Sol and Jade took the middle row of bucket seats, and Klaus slid behind the wheel. Sol whistled as he studied a road map.

Marcas decided to start the conversation again. “You didn’t tell us how the war ended for you.”

Sol looked back at him. “It was quick. I escaped from the French patrol that intercepted me, and I made it to Switzerland to contact our Odessa network.

“Odessa?”

“And here I thought you knew your history. The SS and Thule realized well before the Battle of Stalingrad in 1943 that defeat was coming. Of course they set up an evacuation network to neutral countries. Mostly South Africa, but also Syria and Egypt.”

“Odessa was the operation’s name?”

“Odessa for Organisation der Ehemaligen SS-Angehörigen, or Organization of Former SS Members. The SS had used its war booty to buy businesses in the countries that would take in the ex-officers. Bank accounts had been opened in respectable places like Switzerland, naturally.

“So I guess Hitler didn’t know about the plan,” Jade said. “If he had, he might have opted to spend a pleasant post-Reich retirement in some obscure South American village instead of killing himself.”

Sol smiled, “You are so right. Hitler was a criminal. We had no desire to help him save his own skin.”

“What?”

“Our precious blood was spilled in that war. Millions of Aryans died because of him.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Sol smiled again, as if he were talking to a child too young to understand. “Of course you don’t share my point of view. The Thule had no direct power over the Führer, and at best could only influence certain decisions. The Thule had even less influence when madness took hold of him.”

“And you?” Jade asked.

“I started another life, and I rose in the Orden ranks. When communism fell, we recovered the few Masonic papers that I had hidden, and we analyzed them.”

Sol’s eyes were glistening. “That was when I understood how priceless they were.”

“But for what?” Marcas exclaimed. “Do you really want to contact God?”

“Not your God, my friend, but mine, which is infinitely more powerful.”

69

They were parked in the center of Montignac, the small town closest to Lascaux. Marcas and Zewinski, still tied up in the back of the SUV, said nothing. Outside, Joana hung up her phone. Sol rolled down the window.

“They picked him up this afternoon, and he should be here shortly.”

Marcas shot Zewinski a questioning look.

“Who?” Marcas asked.

Sol stepped out of the car and stretched his legs, ignoring the prisoner. “Marcas and I will go on ahead. You and Klaus wait here with the lady. When our friends get here, have them drive you to the caves. Klaus, give me the package Hans dropped off.”

The bodyguard handed a small bag to Sol and yanked Jade out of the car.

“Let go of me, dammit,” Jade said, shaking off his grip. He had a gun at her back. “I’ll stay here. What the hell else would I do?”

Klaus hustled her toward Joana, who took up a position in the shadows, near a tree.

Sol climbed into the driver’s seat. “Klaus, make sure Joana doesn’t get carried away—not until I say so,” he said as he drove off.

~ ~ ~

A cool wind had risen with the stars. The conservator of the cave was standing at the entrance, giving the unexpected visitors a final look-over. Visits were usually scheduled months in advance. The few people who received permission to see the actual cave—and not the replica created for tourists—had to slalom past a multitude of administrative obstacles before the Ministry of Culture would approve the visit. The process was long, and he, as conservator, followed procedure. Nobody entered Lascaux without clearing all the flags. And everyone who made it to the end, mostly eminent researchers and high government officials, was aware of what a privilege—miracle even—it was to be there. They entered this sacred space with both humility and childlike expectation.