Crusader's Gold

TWENTY EIGHT

Crouch tried to force his mind away from Riley and their checkered past by concentrating on their unfolding treasure hunt. The Hercules Tarentum had evidently been designed alongside Lysippos’ Horses and had remained almost undivided throughout history. And once Napoleon had been defeated at Waterloo, clearing the way for the Horses to be returned to Venice, who would stand in the way of the victor claiming the spoils?

Admittedly, Crouch didn’t know an awful lot about the Duke of Wellington. The enormous arch that sat at the center of Hyde Park Corner was named after him and the house just across the road — Apsley House — had been his residence. With an address of Number One, London it was clear how high in esteem the British had held him. But, standing at the heart of London and a true British Heritage site, what did it have to do with Hercules and Napoleon? Maybe nothing… the arches were still their main focus. It would take much further delving but Crouch did know that the Wellington and Marble arches had been moved sometime in their history and that the foremost had been designed as some kind of grand entrance to London.

And of course, there was a quadriga on top — a four-horse chariot.

With the plane in the air, Crouch and his compatriots found themselves drifting. Exhausted through battle and city-hopping and mind-draining deliberations they fell into deep, dream-filled sleep. Crouch achieved no such release. After dozing for a few minutes he came wide awake, agitated by memories he had thought long dead and buried.

Following the bombing in India, Riley had once again dropped off the grid, leaving Crouch with nothing beyond infinite scenes of horror. Trying to reconcile that night with the man he had previously liked and worried over took years, and even then doubts remained. Not excusable, but had Riley acted under duress? Was a terrorist cell holding someone he loved, someone Riley had never disclosed? Crouch didn’t see Riley again for many years after that night but heard about his further exploits through the interdepartmental grapevine. Riley always remained high on the watch list but never again came to the in-field attention of the SAS.

Now Crouch doubted himself. What the hell had he been doing allowing this man to roam free all these years? Should I have pushed it? Certain terrorists needed making an example of — Riley was surely one of those.

Crouch tore his mind back to the present as their pilot announced the descent into London. Focusing again on the arches he thought that the links were good, the final resting place of the Hercules close at hand. If these treasures continually passed into the hands of conquering leaders — which history said they did — then the Hercules would still be somewhere in London. The Duke of Wellington’s descendants would never give up such a magnificent treasure. And to think of all the many thousands who passed through those arches every single day…

Crouch felt a tremor of excitement, pushed all thoughts of Riley and Kenzie aside, and watched the descent into London City Airport.