The Relic Hunters

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Confident that they weren’t being pursued, that no horrific event was in store, Bodie’s team exited the plane and said goodbye to Heidi Moneymaker. The CIA agent closed the door and the jet immediately taxied away, tail light blinking in the cold dawn light.

They now had to deliver.

Bodie spied the waiting car. The York city walls were a ten to twenty minute drive away, depending on the density of traffic.

“Where the hell are we?” Cross asked, taking his time shrugging into a jacket and zipping all three fasteners.

“Elvington Airfield.” Bodie shrugged.

“So we know where we’re going?” Cassidy asked, walking off toward the warm car.

“Not a clue.” Jeff went with her.

“How about a library?” Jemma suggested with an ironic smile. “Quiet and resourceful.”

“Good call,” Bodie said.

Twenty minutes later the team were climbing the stairs and entering a large, hushed room with long rectangular desks placed around the interior. The exterior and rear was a collection of bookshelves. The front occupied by a desk and more bookshelves. The team filed through in silence to the farthest table with a large shelf at their back and a window to keep watch out of. Jeff unzipped his laptop bag as Gunn pulled out an iPad.

Cassidy sat back, barely refraining from putting her boots up on the table. “Fuck,” she said.

Jemma looked over. “That’s not appropriate for a library.”

“You’re joking, right? It’s one of the best places to do it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Seriously,” Cassidy said. “You and me are gonna have to sort a night out on the town. Live a little.”

“With you? That’s sounds scary.”

“It is. That’s part of the fun.”

Gunn looked up. “You don’t have to be a party girl to have fun.”

“Says the Goat Whisperer,” Cassidy grunted.

The tech team became absorbed by their work, using history and contacts they’d built up through the years. University connections became useful for Jeff, especially when his York acquaintance was told about the murder of Jeff’s mentor and teacher. The man had known her also. After that, there was another remote member of the team and whomever he chose, though they were told little detail.

Slowly, through Gunn and Jeff, a network of help was built.

Bodie always knew the maxim ‘it’s not what you know, it’s who you know’ was among the most significant slivers of advice ever offered. The team used it to full effect now. Gunn was in his element with the networking, and Jeff was wholly gripped and totally committed. In the end it was a painstaking matter of narrowing down the known location with old records and archives, establishing when each area was built. The simple fact was their initial thoughts were wrong — nothing could be found that was built in the 7th century. What they did find, however, was an area of York built around the time that the Grand Lodge of All England was recharged with a new energy. The time it defied London and attracted the most notable members.

The area centered on St. Saviourgate.

It took many hours, many trips in turn to the lower floor coffee shop, many sighs of boredom and many false leads before they narrowed it down to a particular street with a building fashioned in a particular style.

It had wrought-iron railings and a nondescript exterior. A front yard that, though already gated off, could be viewed by all the front windows, both top and bottom. A rear garden that couldn’t be accessed through the front yard, but only by going through the house and again, easily surveilled.

Bodie’s team looked at each other. “Now we go in for a closer look,” Bodie said. “Check their tech. Finally, this is what we do, people. This is what we do.”

“You planning a break in?” Cross asked.

“Yeah, the best one yet. We have to break into the Illuminati lodge, find the waypoint and then get out again without them ever knowing we were there.”

“Security’s gonna be intense,” Cross said.

Bodie smiled. “Damn, I really do hope so.”

As darkness slowly started to fall they decided they didn’t want to waste any more time. This was a night job, a fluid job, and speed was of the essence. Jeff informed them the house off St. Saviourgate was a good ten-minute walk, which was perfect.

Together, they left the library and stepped into the frost-dusted city of York. Bootham Bar sat near them, its intact castle walls stretching left and right. The entrance to the city was one large arch slightly wider than a car and two paths, one to each side. Bodie led the way with Jeff, guided by a cellphone and Google Maps. Ahead, they saw the impressive Minster, an awe-inspiring construction that never seemed free of scaffolding, stretching up until Bodie had to tilt his head backward to take it all in. Tourists milled around the area and filled the streets in between, checking out souvenir wagons and ice cream vans, sampling the nectar in the pub or walking to hotels. Bodie and Jeff threaded through carefully, with the rest of the team following.

Heading out of the city center, they found Colliergate and fewer crowds, the shops smaller and probably more attractive to locals.

“Here.” Jeff pointed ahead. “St. Saviourgate. The lodge is up there along a little branch-off. You ready?”

Bodie looked around, saw expressionless, open faces and knew they were all good, already in the zone. They turned up St. Saviourgate, entering the narrow one-way street with houses to both sides, their facades practically touching the curbside. The roofs were high, yielding a rather claustrophobic feel to the entire area, the lowering sun completely blocked out. Bodie saw only a strip of darkening gray above and shadows lengthening along every window.

Presently, they came to the even narrower side road. Luckily it wasn’t a dead end so the team wouldn’t look too suspicious traversing it. They split up, one team heading for the front whilst the other wandered around the back. Both teams would circumvent the place and meet up to compare notes.

Bodie walked the front with Jeff and Cassidy, feeling a little at sea without Heidi and then feeling ridiculous and restless because of that. Tuning that out, he concentrated on what was before him — the approaching Grand Lodge.

Unassuming, unified entirely to the architecture all around, the building was nevertheless three houses wide and railed off, set back from the street as if everything else might have been built around it and at a slightly later date. The wrought-iron fence and gates were mostly decorative, unfeasible when it came to keeping out any kind of serious infiltration. Bodie ignored them.

He knew exactly what to look for.

The alarm keypad to the side of the door; the glass face it showed and the manufacturer. The window locks, invisible to the average civilian, but clear to most average thieves. The CCTV cameras, again noting their makers and types. The glass was obscured, so he was unable to tell if a security office existed inside. The simple fact that the building was three houses wide and consisted of so many rooms told them it would require every ounce of skill to negotiate.

Cassidy looked gloomy. “Not much around here to distract or intimidate.”

Bodie nodded distractedly. “I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“At least Jemma’s gonna be happy. This will take a hell of a plan.”

Bodie observed even more. The sensors attached to the brick walls, the infrared beams that crossed the gate, the bars attached to the inside of random windows, the single man smoking a cigarette outside who may or may not be a random security guard.

And it was quite possible, of course, that all the houses overlooking the lodge had been purchased by the Illuminati.

Did I say possible? Bodie deliberated. Of course, I meant probable.

Passing the house they made their way slowly down a side street, passed Cross, Jemma and Gunn coming in the other direction, and viewed the rear. It didn’t take long. Bodie estimated the wall at twelve feet high, topped by crushed glass. When they crossed to the other side of the road he was able to view the very tops of the highest windows, the same uniform appearance as the front.

They met up at the junction of a busier street. Cross walked over to a bench and eased himself into it.

“Aching bones?” Cassidy asked.

“All the bruises,” he said. “So far.”

“Well, there’s gonna be a few more to add to that collection,” Jemma said. Bodie knew she’d already be formulating a plan.

“There’s a body of influence that says hit them where they’re strongest. They’ll never expect it. There’s another that states go for the weak spot because, by definition, it’s the easiest. Gunn, I need the specs for all that security, ASAP.”

“On it.” Gunn was already visiting various websites and bringing up manufacturers’ information along with hacks on how to render it obsolete.

“Cross, how are you at climbing three stories with a rope?”

“Do it in my sleep.”

“Bodie, our problem may be equipment.”

“Let’s hear it first, Jemma. Then we’ll worry about the gear.”

“All right then. This is what we’re gonna do.”