Poseidon's Ransom

Epilogue

In The Chiltern Clinic, one of the most exclusive private hospitals in Berkshire, Maggie Walker sat at her husband’s bedside. ‘How’re you feeling today, love?’

‘Getting better, Mags. Don’t worry, old love.’

‘I was thinking, Brian. Maybe it’s time to retire?’

As he grinned, he held his hand to the heavy dressing on his chest. ‘And what, miss out on all this fun?’

In the upstairs office of Les Plumes, Madame Sofie looked at the pile of cash in front of her.

‘How much did you say, Daniel?’

‘Almost four-hundred thousand, Madame.’

‘From behind the wardrobe?’

‘Oui, Madame.’

She smiled then counted out fifty-thousand. She slid the pile across her desk to the handsome Frenchman, blew him a kiss and said, ‘That’s for you, sugar.’

Sir Anthony Grainger’s funeral was attended by over three hundred of the great-and-the-good, including the Prime Minister and her Cabinet. As his coffin was carried from the Church, Gary, his former Special Branch bodyguard, said to himself, I told you I should have come with you, Sir Anthony.

In Wales, a couple of fell walkers sat down to rest by a burnt-out farmhouse. The day was clear, and they could see all the way to the Irish Sea. After finishing their energy drinks, they were about to leave, when a peregrine falcon swooped down and perched on the carcass of the farmhouse.

‘Look at that,’ said one.

‘Yeah, what a beautiful bird.’

Their voices startled the hunter and it took flight. For several seconds they watched the elegant creature soar higher and higher, then disappear into the clear blue sky.

Two blocks from Red Square, Bogdan Markov walked out of the Moskva-Siti Bank with a huge grin on his face. His brother Grigory waited in the big Mercedes.

As his brother climbed in, Grigory said, ‘Okay?’

Bogdan nodded, took a sheet of paper from his inside pocket, and handed it to Grigory.

Grigory’s mouth fell open. ‘Three million sterling?’

‘Da,’ said Bogdan,’ three million sterling.’

They both laughed.

A courier arrived at the big house in East Monkton. At the door he handed Jack a large envelope, embossed with the seal of the British Government. Inside was a hand written letter from the Prime Minister, which read…

In the Great Hall of the Castello San Lorenzo, a short ceremony was coming to a close. Thirteen chairs were arranged in a circle, all save one, were occupied. In the centre, stood a man dressed in evening wear. Over his clothes he wore a white linen tabard, emblazoned with a red cruciform cross. In one hand he held an old leather bound bible, in the other, an ornate dagger.

The man was finishing his address. ‘On my honour, I am bound by these values and should I betray this society, then let me be stripped of my raiment. Let my tongue be torn from my mouth. Let this dagger pierce my heart, and my remains be cast on the waters as carrion… Semper Fidelis.

Later, an elegantly dressed woman spoke to the man. ‘Welcome to the Templari Incrementum, Dimitri.’

The man raised his glass. ‘Thank you, Contessa.’