The Last Templar

Chapter 26

H is eyes stinging from the strain of many hours spent poring over the ancient manuscripts, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes gently with a wet towel.

How long had it been? Was it morning? Night? He had lost all track of time since returning here after his mounted foray into the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Of course, the media, that pack of dysfunctional, semiliterate creatures, were probably referring to it as a robbery or a heist. None of them, or even anyone in higher places, would ever understand his way of thinking of it as an exercise in practical research. But that was what it was. And the time was not too far off when the whole world would know Saturday night's incident for what it really was: the first move in something that would irrevocably alter how many of them looked at their world. A move that would, one day soon, remove the scales from their eyes and open up their petty minds to something far beyond their feeble imaginings.

And I'm almost there. Not long to go now.

Turning, he looked at the wall behind him on which hung a calendar. Although the time of day was unimportant to him, dates always had significance.

One such date was circled with red.

Glancing again at the results of his work with the multigeared rotor encoder, he reread one passage that had troubled him from the moment he had decoded it.

Very puzzling, he mused. Then he smiled, realizing that, unconsciously, he had used the exact right word. It had not been enough for this manuscript to be set in code; before encoding, this particular passage had first been designed as a puzzle.

He felt a flood of admiration for the man who had written this document.

Then he frowned. He had to solve it speedily. So far as he knew, his tracks were thoroughly covered, but he wouldn't be so foolish as to underestimate the enemy. Unfortunately, in order to work out the puzzle, he needed a library. That meant he would have to leave the security of his home and venture aboveground.

He thought for a moment, then decided with reasonable certainty that it was evening. He would visit the library. Carefully. Just in case anyone had made a connection and alerted those working there to report people asking for materials of a certain nature.

Then he smiled to himself. Now you're being paranoid. They weren't that clever.

After the library, he would return here, hopefully with the solution in hand, and then complete the decoding of the remaining passages.

He glanced again at the calendar with its encircled date.

A date seared into his memory forever.

A date he could never forget.

He had a small but important—and painful—duty to perform. After that, all being well, and with the manuscript fully decoded, he would fulfill the destiny that had been unfairly thrust upon him.