The Treasures of Saint Germain

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX

Rested, re-clothed to some degree and recuperated to another, the SPEAR team headed back to New Orleans’ French Quarter. With all the unfriendly parties either leaderless or captured, the resistance had been stamped out. The cultists were gone forever; the surviving mercenaries in custody. Another threat removed from the world. The entire team had been patched and bandaged, fed painkillers and even stitched. And, on an uplifting note, they had learned that Sabrina Balboni had survived her operations and would make a full recovery, given time.

Everyone moved gingerly as they walked up the middle of Bourbon Street, giving groups of tourists a wide berth.

Hayden looked tired. “A reverse trace of Webb’s movements through New Orleans showed him first visiting this area,” she said. “And in particular — that house.”

Drake stared at an unassuming structure, two-story with white shutters and a small parking garage nearby. Plant pots lined the windows. Even the door locks shone like new. Alicia tapped Hayden’s shoulder.

“Why are we here?”

“Webb came to this house for a reason. Don’t you want to know what it was?”

Lauren stepped forward. “We know from our research that the fanatics thought Saint Germain was still alive and living in New Orleans. Are you saying this is his house?”

“Again—” Hayden smiled “—why else would Webb come here?”

“The final clue,” Mai said.

“From Germain himself?” Drake laughed.

“If not the man,” Hayden spread her hands, “then maybe from the place he lived.” She shrugged. “There is often a nugget of truth in legend. If Germain did come here then maybe he left a clue behind.”

They searched high and low; they ransacked the modern, pristine furniture and the unmarked walls and pictures. They checked for hidden passages and false walls, a basement and an attic. If Tyler Webb had indeed visited these premises then he’d done so with the utmost respect, another oddity. They gathered as a team in the sitting room.

“Nothing,” Smyth grumbled.

“A shame,” Hayden said. “And a surprise. You know — Amari became obsessed with the legend of Saint Germain whilst being privately educated around Europe. Took the fixation home with him and fanned it until it turned into something horrible. Now, that’s all gone. Whatever he knew — lost. ”

“And why the quest?” Smyth asked. “Why not skip to the end of that friggin’ scroll and come straight to New Orleans?”

“The treasures along the way pointed the way,” Hayden said. “You can’t achieve one without achieving the other. Linguistics helped translate the later-found composition. Alchemy helped mix the potion. Freemasonry opened more doors. From one you beget the next.”

“So the mystery of Saint Germain lives on?” Lauren asked.

“Some legends never die. Many will outlive every one of us.”

Drake winced in pain. Mai touched her cheek and Alicia hobbled over to a sofa. “That won’t be too hard.”

“Weirdly though,” Lauren said. “This house is actually over two hundred years old.”

“Where? Every fitting looks new.” Hayden looked stumped.

“And even more interestingly it was built around 1780; the same period history tells us Germain was negotiating truces and helping to install new kings. Many of the buildings around here were built around that time.”

“You trying to spook me out?” Smyth smiled. “ ’Cause it ain’t working.”

“Do you realize something?” Dahl said. “The reign of the Pythians is finally over. They’re all gone and Webb is dead. Can I get a high five?” He searched for a raised hand among his injured friends and saw none. “Maybe later.”

“We’ve neutralized most of the known threats now,” Drake said. “Maybe we’ll grab some downtime.”

“Whatever you do,” Dahl put in. “Do not go on vacation.”

Laughter broke out, followed by groans. Kenzie held her ribs. Hayden looked around at the little group.

“Back to reality.”

Drake felt uncertainty creep back in. Nothing was resolved for them personally. Alicia and Mai had issues; as did Hayden and Kinimaka. Smyth and Lauren were battling over the prisoner, Nicholas Bell. Even Drake thought the New Yorker had a soft spot for the terrorist. Kenzie loved Dahl.

He grinned. I can work with that. They talked briefly of the new Secretary and her ballsy attitude, of how she had faded rightly to the background when the battle elevated to new heights, of the secret base and the new location. They wondered if anything would change. Kinimaka said nothing — it was almost as if he was already gone.

Change was coming.

Drake looked up and saw something that resembled a face staring at them from the top of the stairs. White and middle-aged, he knew that face. His heart pounded. It was the janitor from the German hospital. He started to cry out a warning and then the face was gone, merged into the background.

Had he ever seen it? No. Of course not. Just a trick of the light. Somehow he’d subconsciously crossed the spooky disappearing janitor with Lauren’s story of the old house and started seeing ghosts. He grinned at himself.

“Drake?” Alicia saw his concern.

“Weird,” he said. “I just want to check upstairs.” The hairs on the back of his neck still stood on end. At least, those that remained.

“Why?”

“Nah, don’t worry—”

The house rumbled. The street shook. The team stared at each other in surprise as a small earthquake shook the city. After a moment the reverberations stopped but it was long enough for Drake to change his mind.

No need to check upstairs. Stupid, frazzled brain playing tricks. He was now certain all he’d seen was a patch of light, a play of color.

“Hayden,” he said. “Let’s get the hell out of Louisiana.”

“There is one last item to discuss,” she said.

“Oh aye? Spit it out then, love.”

“Webb ranted a lot. He was clearly a special case headed for the nuthouse. But he was also a stalker, a watcher, and a gatherer of information. He said things about us that may or may not be true. But guys, whatever it is, and true or not, a nasty little stockpile exists somewhere and really needs to be found.”

Drake understood her fears. Webb had taped and recorded everyone except Mai and Dahl, he thought. In compromising ways or not, it all had to be unearthed and destroyed.

“We’ll get it done, Hayden.”

“And the things he said about us…”

“Sound like our own crosses to bear,” Drake said. “But if anyone wants to share I for one will not back away.”

“And me,” Dahl said. “Anything.”

The team voiced their support, their agreement and their warmth. Drake wished it could always be like this as, he imagined, so did every mother, father, brother and sister at the perfect, content family moment.

But life changed everything.

“So,” he said. “Shall we see what tomorrow brings?”