King's Crusade (Seventeen) Read online

  She spotted a figure in casual clothes at the loading bay. The workers nodded respectfully at the man striding across the concrete floor.

  ‘Hmm,’ she murmured thoughtfully.

  ‘What?’ said Jackson.

  ‘Are you done yet?’ said Alexa, her eyes never moving from the figure approaching the cabin.

  He frowned at the display. ‘I need another minute.’

  ‘The warehouse manager is coming this way,’ she said. ‘He’ll be at the door in thirty seconds.’

  Jackson paled. ‘Shit.’ He hunkered over the computer and started to type faster.

  Alexa looked around the room. The metal mezzanine juddered under the feet of the man climbing the stairs.

  She strode to the back wall of the cabin, smashed the front plate of the fire alarm unit with her elbow, and pulled the handle down.

  A loud, piercing ringing erupted around the warehouse. Footsteps stopped on the other side of the cabin door. Agitated shouts rose from the main floor and punctuated the shrill noise of the fire alarm. The mezzanine shook again as the man outside rapidly descended the stairs.

  ‘Got it!’ Jackson exclaimed. The printer attached to the computer hummed into life and spat out a sheet of paper. He grabbed it and came around the desk.

  Alexa opened the door and stepped outside the cabin.

  Chaos reigned inside the building. The fire alarm had activated the sprinkler system in the ceiling, and water rained down over the crated goods that crowded the aisles. Men in overalls rushed across the floor toward the open shutter doors at the front of the warehouse.

  Jackson shoved the paper inside his jacket and followed her down the stairs. They were nearly at the bottom when the warehouse manager turned around and spotted them. A puzzled expression dawned on his face.

  ‘Hey, you there! What are you doing?’ he called out and headed toward them.

  ‘Go!’ shouted Alexa. She broke into a dead run toward the back of the warehouse, Jackson close behind. Shouts erupted from around the building as the manager and several of his men gave chase. The Harvard professor slipped on the wet floor and almost fell. He grabbed the edge of a container and pulled himself up moments before one of the men reached him.

  They hit the fire door running and burst out into bright sunlight. It took mere seconds to cover the distance to the black pickup.

  Alexa yanked the driver’s door open, jumped inside, and started the engine a heartbeat before Jackson reached the vehicle. She threw it into reverse while he was still climbing in.

  The men chasing them stumbled to a halt on the verge of the grass and watched with open mouths as the Range Rover spun around in a screeching U-turn and shot down the road.

  Jackson stared over his shoulder as they sped away, his breath coming in short, fast pants. ‘Well, that was kinda close.’ He ran a hand down his wet face and glanced at her. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t shoot your way out of there.’

  ‘Violence is a last resort.’ The water had plastered strands of her hair to her face, and she was aware of the wet shirt clinging to her chest beneath her jacket. ‘Those men are not involved in this.’ She looked at him. ‘Where to?’

  ‘Huh?’ said Jackson blankly.

  ‘The data you printed. What does it say?’

  ‘Oh.’ He took the paper from his jacket, unfolded it, and scanned the writing. ‘Of the containers that were brought across by Hassan’s shipping company from Port Said a month ago, all have been accounted for by the receiving clerk except for one,’ he said after a moment.

  She did not like the sound of that. ‘There’s no mention of a forwarding address?’

  He was silent as he continued to study the paper. ‘Well, there is something here, but it’s not so much an address as a series of numbers.’ He showed her the printout. ‘Do these look familiar?’

  Alexa browsed the sheet quickly, then turned back to watch the road. ‘Those are geographical coordinates.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ said Jackson.

  She reached for the GPS device in her bag and threw it on his lap. ‘Type them in.’

  Moments later, the machine guided them to their destination. It was just over a mile from their point of origin.

  Alexa braked to a stop and turned the engine off. She stepped out of the vehicle and looked around. ‘You sure this is the place?’ she asked Jackson when he joined her.

  ‘Yes.’ His mystified expression reflected her own puzzlement.

  ‘This doesn’t make sense,’ she said. ‘Why would they go through all that subterfuge to bring the container here?’

  They were standing next to one of the general cargo berths on a pier in the Port of Mersin, just to the west of the Free Zone. Mobile cranes, trucks, and cargo forklifts rumbled busily around them as men moved crated goods and containers on and off the ships anchored at the dock.

  ‘It might be because of the Free Zone,’ said Jackson thoughtfully. ‘They wouldn’t have had to go through customs to get the artifacts into the country if they landed on the other side of the harbor.’

  Alexa ignored the curious glances being cast their way and scanned their surroundings slowly. ‘But why bring it here, exactly? Those coordinates were precise.’ She glanced at Jackson. ‘Was it to load the tombs onto another vessel? If so, it seems a complicated way to go about transporting them to their final destination, wherever that may have been.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he said absentmindedly. He was staring at something over her shoulder.

  ‘We’re missing something’ she muttered.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jackson woodenly, his gaze still focused beyond her. ‘And I think it’s a big something.’

  Alexa turned to see what had captured his attention.

  A diesel locomotive was coming down the dock on a set of rail tracks. It slowed to a stop just before it reached the end of the pier. A couple of men oversaw the locomotive’s linkup with the row of goods wagons that stood at the ready.

  She scowled. ‘A freight train?’

  Jackson slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. ‘Of course!’ he exclaimed. ‘The Istanbul-Baghdad railway!’

  She turned and looked at him carefully. ‘What are you talking about?’

  He went to the pickup, grabbed his duffel bag, and took out a thick, worn tome. ‘In 1903, work began to extend the Anatolian Railway, which was originally built by the Germans in the late 1800s to connect Istanbul to Ankara and Konya,’ he said, riffling through the book and stopping at a page. She joined him and looked at the section he indicated. ‘Previous to that, the German Empire constructed the Oriental Railway to link Berlin and Istanbul,’ Jackson continued with an animated expression. ‘The Germans wanted to access Baghdad and the Ottoman Empire directly from Berlin and ultimately build a port in the Persian Gulf. From there, they would be able to bypass the Suez Canal and reach their easternmost colonies. This would have given them economic and political dominance in the area, never mind the direct oil supply for their flourishing industry.’ He gave Alexa a wry grimace. ‘Of course, the British, French, and Russians were not exactly ecstatic about this. The Germans’ plans greatly threatened their interests in the region. A series of technical and financial setbacks, not to mention the advent of the First World War, slowed down the construction of the new railway. It wasn’t completed until 1940.’

  Alexa digested this information thoughtfully. ‘Is it still in use today?’ She stared at the map depicting the projected Istanbul-Baghdad route.

  ‘Quite a lot of it is in fair working order and most of the original stations still stand,’ Jackson replied. He perused the busy port. ‘And there are at least half a dozen dockside rail connections from here to the main lines that link Mersin to Adana.’

  She twisted on her heels and stared at the freight train. ‘
Are you saying the artifacts may have been loaded on a train here?’

  Jackson sighed and closed the book. ‘I’m not saying anything. But it would seem a strange coincidence that the geographic coordinates for the forwarding address of the missing container from Hassan’s shipment led us directly to a set of rail tracks, don’t you think?’

  Alexa drummed the fingers of her right hand against her thigh. The tomb raiders had gone to a lot of trouble to cover their tracks. That fact, combined with what had transpired in Port Said, spoke volumes about their adversaries. ‘They could have gone anywhere from here,’ she muttered.

  ‘I think I have a good idea where they went,’ said Jackson. An amused smile lit up his face. ‘In fact, I’d bet big money on it.’

  She stared at him. ‘Well?’

  His blue eyes gleamed in the bright sunlight. ‘Istanbul.’

  ‘And what makes you so sure they’ve gone there?’ asked Alexa.

  Jackson grinned. ‘Because the last time I visited the place, I heard rumors of a secret society expanding its influence in the city’s underworld.’

  Part Two: Hunt

  Chapter Nine

  They arrived in Istanbul around sunset that day. Alexa had hired the private charter Sikorsky helicopter again, this time to take them from Adana Airport to Ataturk International, fifteen miles from the center of the city. Jackson asked whether her AMEX card had ever maxed out.

  She didn’t reply. There was no need for him to know that the credit limit on it could buy her a small island in the Caribbean.

  She had booked another rental car before leaving Adana. The silver Ford Taurus sat waiting outside the terminal building. They put their bags in the boot and got in.

  ‘This doesn’t feel right,’ said Jackson as she pulled away from the curb.

  ‘What doesn’t?’ asked Alexa with a faint frown. A light snow had started to fall over the city.

  ‘This car. It just isn’t you.’ He shook his head, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. ‘I was expecting some sort of kick-ass black SUV.’

  She felt her lips quiver in an involuntary smile and turned her head to hide the unexpected reaction. She glared at the traffic outside while she tried to clamp down on her emotions; she was starting to get annoyed at her response to the man sitting a few inches from her.

  The satellite phone rang minutes later. She glanced at the number and handed the receiver to Jackson. ‘It’s your friend.’

  He took the call. ‘Ismael? Hi. Thanks for ringing back. Can we meet up?’ He glanced outside the window. ‘We’re just passing Topkapi Park.’ He listened for several seconds, then grabbed a pen and paper from his bag. ‘Okay, tell me where.’

  Earlier that day, Alexa had contacted the Crovir techs to see if they could uncover information on possible Rosicrucian-linked orders making waves in Istanbul’s criminal underworld. Despite access to one of the largest databases in the world, the Crovirs had failed to come up with any useful intel on the subject.

  It was Jackson who suggested they talk to his friend, a retired university professor who had lived in Istanbul his entire life. The man was apparently well-versed in the religious and political undercurrents of his hometown. They arranged to meet in the Kumkapi neighborhood of the Fatih district, on the historic peninsula south of the Golden Horn.

  Alexa parked the Taurus outside the pedestrian-only area and they walked to a small square with a quaint water fountain. Despite the cold and the snow flurry, the place was packed with locals and tourists. Jackson led her down a crowded passage to a seafood restaurant. They ordered some beer while they waited.

  Ismael Sadik arrived fifteen minutes later. He greeted Jackson with a bear hug and a hearty slap on the back. Alexa studied him silently while he removed his winter coat.

  It was difficult to believe that the plump, elderly gentleman with the well-worn clothes and faded, scuffed shoes was an internationally renowned emeritus professor of philosophy and religious studies at Istanbul University.

  Sadik smiled pleasantly when Jackson introduced her.

  It did not take long for Alexa to realize that the professor’s intellect had not faded with age. His perceptive eyes were bright and sparkled with humor while he and Jackson traded tales across the table. The older man reminded her of the tutors Reznak had hired to teach her three centuries ago, when she went to live with him.

  ‘How did you two meet?’ she asked curiously after a waiter had taken their orders.

  Sadik grinned at Jackson. ‘Why, this young man here came to deliver a lecture at our university some twenty years ago.’ He patted Jackson heavily on the shoulder, making him wince. ‘He was passionate, arrogant, ridiculously naïve, and the youngest professor of philosophy and religious studies the world had seen. Actually, he was the youngest professor the world had seen. How old were you at the time?’

  Alexa could tell Sadik knew the answer well. It was nonetheless amusing to see Jackson squirm in his seat.

  ‘Seventeen,’ he muttered into his beer. The tips of his ears had turned bright red.

  Sadik laughed out loud and leaned across the table. ‘Do you know what the funniest thing was?’ he said. ‘He couldn’t even drink alcohol at the reception held in his honor afterward—because he was still underage.’

  She clenched her jaw to stop herself from smiling. ‘I thought your area of expertise was socio-cultural anthropology and archaeology,’ she said, turning to stare at Jackson with a deadpan expression.

  Sadik shook his head. ‘I can tell you don’t know our Jackson very well!’ he said with a chortle. ‘That’s only one of his pet subjects. He has postdoctoral degrees in several of the social and natural sciences.’

  Alexa was impressed despite herself. She knew that Jackson was smart, and she was coming to accept Reznak’s opinion that he was quite likely the most gifted human he had ever crossed paths with; she was certain they would not have gotten this far this fast without his insight. Yet, she found herself vaguely troubled about all that she did not know about the man who had been her constant companion for the last four days.

  It was not until their empty dishes had been taken away that Jackson finally broached the subject of secret societies. Although she appreciated the subtle way he introduced the topic into the conversation, she could tell from Sadik’s sharp expression that the retired professor was not falling for the trick.

  ‘What’s this really about, Jackson?’ he asked finally. He shook his head at the waiter who came to ask whether they wanted any coffee and leaned back in his chair. ‘The only time you ever play your cards this close to your chest is when you’re working on something big.’

  Jackson smiled. ‘I guess there’s no pulling the wool over your eyes.’ He glanced at Alexa hesitantly.

  She placed her elbows on the table, folded her arms, and gazed steadily at the retired professor. ‘Just over a month ago, my employer discovered a pair of interlinked caves in the Eastern Desert mountains in Egypt. The first and largest of these caves had unfortunately been raided by an unknown party, and my employer believes valuable artifacts were stolen from it. Jackson and I have been charged with finding the missing relics.’

  Sadik went still. ‘Even though I’m not working at the university anymore, I think I would have heard about such a substantial discovery,’ said the professor.

  ‘My employer works for a very … private organization,’ said Alexa quietly.

  Sadik studied her for a while, then looked at Jackson. ‘I never thought I’d see the day when you’d become a treasure hunter.’ Despite the professor’s light tone, she detected mild disapproval in his voice.

  Jackson grimaced. ‘Trust me, old friend, this is more than a simple treasure hunt,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you about it someday—if I live through the next week.’

  ‘It sounds like you’ve gotten yours
elf involved in something dangerous,’ said Sadik.

  ‘That’s why I’m asking for your help,’ said Jackson.

  The retired professor mulled over these words for a moment. ‘You’ve always been an excellent friend,’ he said finally. ‘I’d be remiss were I not to honor the bonds of our long-lived relationship. What is it that you wish to know?’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Jackson with soft sigh. He leaned across the table. ‘When I was here five years ago, I heard stories of a secret sect that had infiltrated the city’s underworld and was expanding its influence in Istanbul’s corridors of power.’

  A guarded look appeared in Sadik’s eyes. ‘You are correct,’ he said. ‘There were indeed such rumors circulating, not just in Istanbul but in other cities and countries in the region.’

  ‘Was there any truth to them?’ asked Jackson, sitting back in the chair. ‘I mean, have you personally ever come across any concrete evidence that would support these speculations?’

  ‘In what way is this linked to your quest?’ said Sadik.

  Jackson looked questioningly at Alexa. She dipped her chin slightly.

  ‘We came across a symbol during our search for the missing artifacts,’ said Jackson. ‘It’s a cross with a rose entwined around it.’

  The older man went still. ‘The Rose Croix?’ he said. ‘You’re certain?’

  Jackson nodded and glanced at her. She knew from the look in his eyes that they were thinking the same thing.

  Sadik knew something—and the retired professor did not appear thrilled about that fact.

  The older man stared at his hands for almost a full minute before speaking again. ‘The rumors you mentioned are not just in the past, Jackson,’ he said slowly. ‘They still exist to this very day. In fact, I have recently seen and heard of things happening in the upper echelons of our society that make me fear for the very future of our country.’