The Omega Factor(7)
The kiss of peace.
“Welcome, my brother. You are now one of us in every way.”
Tears had formed in the brown eyes. This arrogant petty criminal was now a part of the one true faith. All new Perfecti were assigned a socius, a comrade who shared, for a time, in their labor and hardships. He’d specifically asked to be Andre’s.
“You will serve me,” he said. “Until you strike out on your own to serve all believers.”
Andre nodded.
Bernat laid the Bible down and walked across to the glass-paneled doors that led out to a spacious terrace. He opened the doors and gestured for Andre to follow him outside. Cool crisp air tingled his nostrils. A perfect mid-spring evening. The more modern section of Carcassonne, known as the Bourg with its crisscrossing mesh of paved streets, could be seen below in the distance, the rooftops lit to the night. He was an ardent student of history and knew about all that had happened here eight hundred years ago. Every detail. The good and the bad. He drew strength from that legacy.
Which he would need in the coming days.
“It is time,” he said.
Andre nodded in agreement.
They were both here, in Carcassonne, for the same reason.
He smiled. “Let it begin.”
Chapter 3
Nick quickly worked his way through the heat and smoke, aided by an open door and windows that were being smashed by firemen, allowing the soot more ways out.
One of the policemen followed him.
What was happening here? Hard to say. But whatever it was seemed intentional. He flushed those disturbing thoughts from his brain and plunged out into the Belgian night, filling his lungs with clean air. Ahead, fifty yards away, he caught sight of the black figure racing away down the quiet street.
Carrying a laptop.
“I’m going after whoever that is,” he told the cop in English.
“This is a police matter,” the man said in English, too. Thank goodness. Foreign languages were tough for him.
He found his UN credentials and flashed them. “I can handle this.”
The cop studied them, nodded, then displayed a radio. “I will alert others and have help come your way.”
Good idea.
Nick raced off.
Ghent was familiar to him, as he’d visited twice before. It sat at the confluence of the Scheldt and Leie Rivers. Still a university city, once the largest town outside of Paris, it had been one of the richest places in northern Europe. It remained a city of merchants. Markets lay scattered everywhere, places where you could find anything from a quart of fresh strawberries to the collected works of Dickens. All that among pedestrian-only cobbled streets, a thousand-year-old fortress, churches, a cathedral, several medieval towers, and a constant string of spacious squares and tall spires. Once a year in July it celebrated itself with a huge nine-day festival of music, art, and fun, which he’d attended a couple of years back.
He stepped up his pace and began to close the gap on his target. Thankfully, he stayed in excellent shape. Exercise had always been a release for him. He liked to push himself with a little pain and a lot of sweat.
The black-clad figure turned a corner ahead.
He followed, now surrounded by two lines of multistory, polychrome façades. No billboards, neon, or high-rises in sight. Just an Old World charm from an unpretentious simplicity, the aging hand of time dominating. Most of the rows of stepped-gable houses were full of hotels, banks, souvenir shops, retailers, bars, and cafés, everything put to good use as though it were not a priceless relic from another epoch. These were residences. The ground-floor doors dim, lights burning only here and there in the upper windows. A few cars sat parked, which he sidestepped, keeping pace with the woman ahead. He only knew she was a woman because of Kelsey.
Go after her.
A part of him wanted to do whatever she wanted. Some things never changed. But what was so important about that laptop? He had no idea but added that inquiry to his growing list of unanswered questions.
For the past five years he’d traveled the globe trying to preserve, or sometimes save, history. You’d think that the locals would appreciate their heritage far more than he did. But sadly, that was not the case in most places. In fact, the greatest threats to historical preservation came from those most familiar with the place or thing. Why was that? Familiarity bred contempt? Maybe. But most likely it was just indifference. Here, though, arson, criminal damage to property, and theft had occurred. Not to mention the assault on Kelsey. All intentional. He hoped the fire had been contained but, from what he’d seen, it appeared that another work of art had been lost. One precious thing after another gone. His job was to prevent that from happening. And he was good at it, the only field officer on CLIO’s payroll.
A loner.
Which he liked.
His personal life had evolved into much of the same.
Since Kelsey there’d been relationships here and there, but none lasting more than a few months. Everyone had been measured against her, and none had met the grade. Frustratingly, Kelsey stayed etched into his mind. Her pale, almost translucent complexion. High cheekbones, green eyes, and hair that once hung long and perfectly straight, the color of cinnamon. A beautiful woman in every way. He knew it was stupid. Time to move on and all that bullshit. But he’d found that hard to do. So he’d done nothing. Just worked hard. Traveled the world.
And hoped the next best thing would come along.