The Nostradamus File

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"Are you going to tell me how it went?" Selena said. It was late in the afternoon. Nick was making coffee. They were in his apartment.

"You mean the counseling thing?"

"You haven't said anything about it."

"There isn't much to say."

"What happened?"

"I told him about the dream. He wanted to know how I felt about what happened."

"And?"

"I don't want to talk about it. You want coffee?"

"You're changing the subject. Yes, I want coffee. Why don't you want to talk about it? That's the whole point. Talking about it."

"I've talked to you."

"I'm not a therapist."

"I don't see the point. Talking won't change anything." He brought her a cup. "That kid is still dead. So are my men."

"That's not your fault."

"Damn it!" He slammed his cup down on the table. She jumped. Coffee slopped out over the clean surface. "It is my fault. I was in command. So stop with the platitudes."

Selena looked at him. "You walked out, didn't you? You didn't finish the session."

He was silent.

"You need to go back. For yourself. For us. I can't keep dealing with this."

She was wearing a long sleeved blouse. Selena pulled it up along her ribs. Her side was turning black and blue.

"That's from last night. You didn't even wake up. You yelled something and started thrashing around."

He stared at the bruise. "I did that?"

"Now do you see why you have to go back?"

He sat down, let out a long breath.

"I'll think about it."

Selena got up. "You do that. You think about it."

She walked to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. While you think about it." The door slammed behind her. Her untouched coffee steamed on the table. He stared at the door. It had nothing to say.

He decided to go for a run. Running helped him clear his mind. Nothing to think about except the feel of the pavement under his feet and the movement of his body. He changed into sweats and put on his running shoes. He tucked a Colt .380 under his sweatshirt and took the elevator down. He stepped out of the entrance and saw a black, armored limousine waiting by the curb.

Adam, he thought. Damn.

Adam was an unknown quantity. Every time he showed up things got difficult. It always meant trouble.

The driver held the rear door open. Nick wondered how Adam managed to time his arrivals to catch him when he was coming out of his building. He got in the car. The door closed and he heard the click of the lock going home.

The car was a Cadillac Presidential Model, several hundred thousand dollars worth of armored protection and luxury. The protection part was handled by run flat tires, 5 inches of armor plate, a turbo charged engine with over 500 horses, bullet proof glass and for all Nick knew, rocket launchers. The seats were covered in smooth black leather. The carpet was dark blue. The windows were completely blacked out. Halo lighting on the padded roof cast a soft glow over the interior.

The driver was invisible behind a partition of black glass. A floor to ceiling panel of black glass divided the entire rear compartment straight down the middle, making it impossible to see who or what was on the other side. There was a speaker grill at head height in the partition and a slot where things could be passed back and forth.

"Hello, Nick."

The voice was masked with electronics, as if it were underwater. The sound was eerie in the confined space of the car.

"Adam."

The car began moving.

"You've stepped into a hornet's nest again. How do you manage it?"

"Just lucky, I guess. What's going on, Adam?"

"You have become a problem for some very powerful people. Have you heard of Cask and Swords?"

"No."

"Cask and Swords is a network of men prominent in every important aspect of American government, finance and business. That includes the military and the Pentagon. Members are recruited during their junior year at the University and sworn to lifelong secrecy. Money, intelligence and connections are required for consideration. There are no female members, no minorities, no Jews."

"A conspiracy, you mean?"

"They would not call it that. If they were to talk about it at all, they would probably say that they share a natural consensus about what the world needs to further their aims. They would couch it in terms of national security and the best policies for the nation."

"What are their aims?"

"Power, wealth and control. There's nothing new about that. That's the way it's always been. What's new is that a small, hard core faction has decided that America needs another war."

"They never quit, do they?"

"No. That's where you come in. You got involved when Bertrand sent you the Nostradamus manuscript."

It didn't surprise Nick that Adam knew about the manuscript.

The electronic voice continued. "The Ark is the symbol of God's agreement with the human race and by extension, of Israel's lawful right to exist. It can be used to provoke a war."

"It probably doesn't even exist."

"The men behind this think it does. They're looking for it. That's why those gunmen came after you in Jordan and Virginia. They don't want you interfering in their plans and they don't want you to find it."

"Something doesn't make sense. We're the ones who have the manuscript. Why would they want to take us out without finding out what's in it?"

"Because they already know what's in it. Yours isn't the only copy. Bertrand made a copy and sent it to himself."

"His place in Provence?"

"Yes. Cask and Swords found it."

"But no one has the Ark. I don't understand how that fits with what you say is their goal. Starting a war."

"If they can find it, they'll use it to raise tensions in the Middle East to the breaking point. War would follow. The US would get involved. Cask and Swords members behind this would make a great deal of money. There is also a religious component. One of the leaders is somewhat fanatical. He wants to instigate a new crusade against Islam."

The car stopped. After a moment it began moving again. It was very quiet.

"What if there isn't any Ark?"

"Then they'll manufacture some provocation. These people already have great wealth. It's not just about the money, it's as much a game of power as anything else for them. They are determined to have their war. Just like before."

"Jesus, Adam."

"Follow the trail, Nick. Find it before they do. Watch your back. I'll help if I can."

The car came to a stop. Nick heard the lock click. After a moment the door was opened by the driver. Nick got out of the car. They were back in front of his building.

He watched the Cadillac pull away. He knew the license plate would yield no information. One day, he'd find out who Adam was. Right now that was the least of his concerns.

Watch your back.