Raiders

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Amadeus slowed his breath and worked hard to maintain his nerve. He had been initiated into the Occulta Manu rank of Persian too many years ago, and he was starting to think his career in the organization had reached its end. He idly speculated that someone, somewhere, didn’t like him very much and was holding him back from the promotion to Sun-runner that he so richly deserved. Now, the Lion — Kranz — was on the line prattling about how his Bride was failing to complete her mission.

If the Bride failed Kranz, then Kranz would fail him, and that meant he would have to report the failure to Benedict, the Sun-runner who held his life in the precarious balance so familiar to those in the Order.

And Benedict’s rank meant he had the ear of the Father.

None of this helped his nerves, and he quietly performed the ritual of unscrewing his little plastic bottle of Xanax and popping a couple of the tiny blue ovals. In a few short moments, the diazepam would work its magic and calm his frayed nerves.

Allow him to see more clearly.

When the benzodiazepine washed into his bloodstream, he took a deep breath and spoke into the phone. “His name?”

“Jedediah Mason,” Kranz said.

“An old name. Details.”

“Born in London. Troubled up-bringing and then the British Army made a man of him. The last few years he’s been running an asset recovery service, apparently the best in the world and in great demand. His team are supposed to be at the top of their game, but they look like a bunch of rogues, renegades and dropouts to me.”

“These dropouts are causing me a lot of trouble right now, Lion.”

“I understand.”

“I’m not sure you do. If they cause me a lot of trouble, then I will cause you a lot of trouble.”

“I’m doing everything I can, Persian.”

“Are you?”

“Kiya is the best, and Dariush gave his life for the cause.”

“I’m not interested in the fate of a Raven who hands vital information like the Napoleon letter to the enemy. He is no hero. If he had not killed himself he would have been executed by the Order for his derisory failure.”

He heard Kranz take a deep breath. “I won’t fail you.”

“That is what they all say, dear Kranz. That is what they all say, but it never pacifies Benedict. A man like that respects only results, not excuses.”

Amadeus closed his eyes and felt the drug coursing through his body. It felt almost like someone was giving him a shoulder massage. The relaxation dispersed like evaporating water when the image of the Sun-runner appeared in his mind like a phantom.

Or more accurately the image of what he thought the man looked like. He had never seen Benedict in all his years in the Order. That wasn’t the way things worked at this level. Benedict the Sun-runner was just a voice on the end of a phone, or a string of commands in a text or email. Like an apparition forming in front of him at any moment and then vanishing again, he had no idea when he would touch his life.

Just as poor little Kranz had no idea when Amadeus would pull his strings, either.

“If I want to progress from Perses to Heliodromus, then I must not fail in this mission, Kranz. Is that clear?”

Heliodromus…Sun-runner…how he craved that rank.

After a short pause, Kranz said, “Very clear, and there will be no failure. Kiya is hunting them now as we speak, in Oxford. She and Tekin are closing in on their prey and I think very soon I will have good news for you.”

“For your sake, Kranz, I hope you do.”

Amadeus cut the call and popped another Xanax. All their fates were hanging on a thread dangling from Kiya’s hands, and if she failed, they all failed. He shuddered and closed his eyes. No one understood what failing the Sun-runner meant better than he did: he had heard the rumors of those close to Benedict and what he did to punish anyone who failed him. He decided to start making a few enquiries of his own about these Raiders, and see if he couldn’t bring their adventure to an abrupt end.

These damn pills just weren’t strong enough, he thought, and crossed the room to his drinks cabinet. Maybe if he washed them down with some Scotch he could calm himself once again.