The Death Relic

20

Dressed in khaki shorts, a cotton blouse and leather sandals, Maria Pelati looked like she was heading out for a day’s shopping. Instead, she was on her way to the parking lot to break into Hamilton’s car. The absurdity of the situation put a smile on her face.

‘I have to admit,’ she said to Jones, who studied their surroundings with a suspicious eye, ‘things are never boring when we’re together.’

He grinned. ‘That’s because you keep getting into trouble.’

‘You don’t have to be so happy about it.’

‘As a matter of fact, I do. Without trouble, we never would have met.’

A few years earlier, Maria was a graduate student on an archaeological dig in Umbria, a landlocked region in central Italy. Led by Dr Charles Boyd, her long-time professor and mentor, they were searching for the Catacombs of Orvieto, the legendary safe haven of the popes of the Middle Ages, when they stumbled across a discovery that threatened to destroy the foundation of the Catholic Church. Fearing the damage it would cause, some high-ranking members of the Vatican tried to silence the problem by manufacturing false evidence against Boyd and leaking it to police agencies around the globe. In the blink of an eye, he went from respected academic to one of the most sought-after fugitives in Europe.

And Maria was labelled his accomplice.

Known for their ability to track and eliminate targets, Payne and Jones were coerced by the CIA to find Dr Boyd and Maria before anyone else could grab them and capitalize on their discovery. Using their unique skill set and vast network of connections, Payne and Jones found the fugitives in Milan and were threatening to turn them over to the authorities when they realized they had been set up by the men who had hired them. Over the next week, Payne and Jones protected the fugitives — and their shocking secret — like precious cargo, battling a private brigade of henchmen in Italy, Austria and Switzerland, while staying one step ahead of the law.

Many had been killed to keep Maria alive, including her brother.

During that period, Jones had saved her life on multiple occasions, and their romance had blossomed from there. It started with innocent flirtations, followed by dating, and eventually a long-distance relationship that had shown a lot of promise. The attraction was obvious, and so was the chemistry — which was clear to everyone — yet the timing couldn’t have been worse for the couple. Between Maria’s graduate studies in England and the steady growth of Jones’s detective agency in Pittsburgh, they didn’t have enough time or energy to work through the main issue that eventually tore them apart.

An issue that had been kept from Payne.

Out of respect for Maria, Jones had concealed the information from his best friend because he didn’t think the three of them would ever be forced to interact again, but a late-night phone call had changed all of that. Suddenly the three of them were in close proximity again, which put Jones in a situation he had hoped to avoid. Although he was excited to see Maria, he knew her re-emergence in their life would force him to have a difficult conversation with Payne, one that would test their friendship in a whole new way.

Jones had wanted to discuss it during their flight, but had chickened out.

Some things scared even him.

Payne took the elevator to the lobby, where he hoped to find a map of the resort. If none was available, he would have to get directions from the front desk.

Guests of all ages scurried past him, the sound of flip-flops and bratty kids echoing in the atrium. Payne ignored the noise and admired the view. Green ferns dangled from the floors above, a splash of colour clinging to the white walls that climbed all the way to the ceiling. Scattered throughout the lobby was artwork depicting native life in the region. Some statues, some paintings and a few modern pieces he didn’t understand.

But that was common for Payne. Art wasn’t his thing.

‘Excuse me,’ he said to a passing valet, who was pushing an empty luggage cart towards the front entrance. ‘Do you speak English?’

The valet nodded. ‘Sí.’

‘Where’s the security office?’

Without saying a word, he pointed towards a side corridor that led to a private office. It was near the main lobby, just out of view of hotel guests.

Payne smiled. ‘Gracias.’

The valet replied in perfect English. ‘You’re welcome.’

Payne laughed at the exchange because it reminded him of many conversations he’d had around the globe. Although language skills were never his strength, he had learned long ago that native speakers were far more likely to help a foreigner who attempted to use the native tongue during the conversation. It didn’t matter if they completely butchered the language. All that mattered was the effort, because effort was viewed as a sign of respect.

A few seconds later, Payne knocked on the door of the security office, unsure how he would be received by the staff. Just to be safe, he had rehearsed the details of his cover story in his head, over and over again, until he was confident he wouldn’t screw it up. Like most cover stories he had used over the years, this one contained a teaspoon of truth and a gallon of lies. The goal was to get the information he needed while covering his trail for would-be pursuers.

‘Hola?’ Payne said as he knocked again. ‘Anybody home?’

‘Come in,’ someone shouted in English.

Payne opened the door slowly, then stuck his head through the crack. ‘Hello?’

‘I’m in the back.’

Payne closed the door behind him, walked past the unmanned desk on the left and made his way to the back office, where more than twenty video screens lined the far wall. Black-and-white videos, showing different areas of the resort, from the private beach to the guest parking lot, rotated through the monitors in regular intervals.

Watching them all was a single guard, who sat in front of a large panel that looked like the mixing board in a music studio. Without taking his eyes off the screens, he spoke over his shoulder. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I’m here to report an incident.’

The guard yawned. ‘What kind of incident?’

‘A break-in.’

The guard cocked his head to the side, as if he was trying to decide whether the matter was worthy of his time. ‘This isn’t a noise complaint?’

‘No.’

‘Or a lost pet?’

‘Nope.’

‘Or some kid shitting in the pool?’

‘They do that?’

‘Sometimes.’

Payne winced. ‘No.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m positive. No noise, no pets, no shit.’

‘In that case,’ said the guard as he whirled around, ‘you’ve come to the right place.’

Until that moment, Payne hadn’t realized that the guard was in a modified wheelchair, and the guard hadn’t realized that Payne was nearly twice the size of an average man. The two of them stared at each other, revelling in their surprise, but unwilling to comment on the other until the guard could hold it in no more.

‘Wooeee! You sure are a big sucker. They don’t grow ’em like you in this part of the world.’ He pointed to an office chair that had been pushed out of the way. ‘Would you mind sitting down for me? I already got a broken neck. I don’t want to make it worse by staring up at you.’

Payne grabbed the chair. ‘No problem at all.’

‘I’m sure glad you didn’t lose your pet. I can’t imagine how much damage Babe the Blue Ox could do in a place like this.’

Payne laughed at the Paul Bunyan reference. A character from American folklore, Bunyan was a lumberjack of extraordinary size and skill whose lone companion was a massive blue ox named Babe. Working in unison, the two of them cleared tons of timber every day. ‘Unfortunately, I sold my ox when I lost my job. Damn tree huggers got me fired.’

The guard, whose name was Jody DeJute, shook Payne’s hand. ‘Nice to meet another unemployed American. I came south when I lost my gig at a hi-tech firm in Houston. Corporate downsizing or some bullshit like that. But I landed on my feet — so to speak.’

‘How long have you been here?’

‘A year or so. I helped put in this system. Did such a good job they kept me on to run it. About the only running I get to do.’

Payne forced a smile. One of his best friends from the military had lost both of his legs when an IED — an Improvised Explosive Device — blew up under his Humvee while doing advanced surveillance in Iraq. For the first several months, his buddy was so ashamed of his condition and so afraid that everyone was going to tease him about it that he tried to beat everyone to the punch by making wheelchair jokes at every opportunity. ‘What can the system do?’

‘What can’t it do!’ DeJute proclaimed as he whirled back towards the control panel. ‘With the touch of a button I can access any camera I want. I can pan, zoom, or both. For insurance purposes, we store videos on site for a month. After that, we delete the local files, but we keep backup copies on some server in the middle of nowhere. I still have access, but it takes a while.’

Payne shook his head. ‘Don’t worry. The break-in occurred yesterday afternoon.’

‘Yesterday? Shit, I worked yesterday. Did you report this to anyone else?’

‘Nope. You’re the first.’

‘And hopefully the last. I can’t afford to lose another job.’