“I don’t believe it’s the literal truth, but there are rumors of a secret tunnel under the labyrinth. I believe that we’re meant to walk it to find the entrance, or the means to unlock it. But I should warn you, a lot of people walk that labyrinth every day, and a lot of them are looking for the Ark. It won’t be easy.”
“For your sake, Dr. Gallo, and for your friends, I hope it’s easier than you think.”
She stopped, turned to him, and fixed him with a lethal stare. “I’m well aware of what’s at stake. You don’t need to keep reminding me.”
Fallon grunted and motioned for her to keep moving.
They came around to the west entrance and made their way inside. It was early evening, just after dusk, but the cathedral was busy with visitors. As at Mount Nebo, many people had turned to their faith to help them cope with the global earthquake crisis and the uncertainty of what might come next. Given the circumstances, it was probably an appropriate reaction.
She went inside and approached the font, dipped her fingers in, and crossed herself. Fallon stared at the basin for a moment, then did the same, looking almost embarrassed.
“You’re Catholic?”
“I’m Irish. What do you think?” He grimaced. “It’s been a while, though. I don’t really…you know…believe any of it.”
She raised an eyebrow, feigning indignation, then nodded in the direction of Williams and the other security contractors. “What about you guys?”
The men exchanged awkward glances but did not answer.
“Maybe they should stay here,” she told Fallon. “This is holy ground, after all.”
Fallon turned to his men. “We don’t need you in here. I don’t think Dr. Gallo will try anything, but just in case, keep an eye on the exits.”
The mercenaries seemed relieved, as if being in the church building made them uncomfortable. They headed back outside. Gallo started up the nave with Fallon right behind her. As they walked, she studied the carved relief images adorning the bay pillars and the majestic stained glass windows. “Too bad we didn’t get here before sunset. It would have been nice to see these windows lit up with natural light.”
“We’re not here for sightseeing.”
“No, but if my theory is correct, the windows hold the secret of finding the Ark.”
That got Fallon’s attention. “How?”
“Each window depicts a scene from the Bible.” She pointed to one window on the north side of the nave. “That’s Noah and his sons building the first Ark.”
“The one from the Flood.”
“Exactly.” She pointed down at the dark pattern on the lighter-colored floor tiles, tracing it with a finger through the first few turns, as the path wandered back and forth across the nave. The labyrinth was contained in a circle, at least forty feet in diameter. “When we walk the labyrinth, we’ll be looking at the windows and the reliefs in a very specific order. I think that the scenes will form a code, like a combination lock, that will open the secret crypt under the cathedral.”
Fallon’s earlier eagerness returned in full force. “That’s awesome. How did you figure it out?”
She shrugged. “You should take video of your walkthrough. That way we don’t have to keep walking it over and over again until we figure it out.”
Fallon liked this idea even better. He took out his mobile phone and held it up as he followed Gallo down the well-trod path.
The labyrinth was not a maze, with pathway junctions and dead ends, but a single path that never crossed itself. It wound around and around in an elaborate pattern within the circle, until reaching the center. Walking a labyrinth was a spiritual journey, a physical meditation. Some even considered it a transformative experience, like a baptism. Gallo had a similar hope for her labyrinth walk.
The path started off straight, heading toward the center, but then just before the halfway point, it turned left and began a clockwise curl. After only a quarter rotation, it doubled back in the first of many hairpin turns, returning almost to the original line. It turned left again and continued toward the center. Just before reaching the center, it turned left again, skirting the ultimate goal without actually reaching it.
Gallo and Fallon were not the only ones walking the labyrinth, and while the pattern did not allow for actual collisions, the narrow path meant they were brushing past other devotees, some further along, others just beginning. She studied the expressions on the faces of the faithful, noted the quivering of their lips as they prayed silently, and wondered how they would react when she and Fallon reached the center. Then, she focused her attention on the path ahead, barely noticing the beautiful windows above, and kept her breathing slow and steady.
Ask the Templars, Pierce had said. At first, Gallo had assumed that he was telling her to look into the accepted history of the Templars and their actions during the Crusades, or perhaps that she was to focus on the final chapter in their tale — the fragmentation of the order, and what happened afterward. But as she read about the trial and the persecution of Jacques de Molay and the other senior Templars, of the relentless torture of the Inquisition, and the false confessions designed to mislead their enemies with wild stories of treasure ships and bizarre pagan rituals, another thought occurred to her.
Ask the Templars.
She had a pretty good idea how they would have answered.
By design, the end of the labyrinth walk came with little warning. The path brought her to a spot adjacent to where she had made the first turn, only instead of turning left, she turned right and waked straight into the six-petal flower-shape at the center of the labyrinth. There were a few people already occupying the space, heads bowed and lost in the exultation of completing their symbolic journey. Gallo stepped aside and allowed Fallon, his mobile phone held up and recording every step, to enter the center.
“Now what?” he asked, stepping close and keeping his voice low.
“Now, you see God,” she replied, and slammed her right knee up into his crotch.
Fallon curled around the point of impact like a worm on a fishhook, unable to breathe or cry out. As he crumpled to the floor, she plucked the phone from his grasp then knelt beside him as if trying to offer comfort.
She raised her eyes to meet the questioning stares of her fellow travelers. “He will be fine,” she said, in passable French. “The spirit is upon him.”
The explanation was evidently good enough. No one paid them any further attention.
She bent lower over Fallon’s still-writhing form and whispered in his ear. “First, I’m going to call the police and tell them that I’ve just escaped from a kidnapper. While I wait for them to get here, I’m going to call the authorities in Jordan and have them dig George and Fiona out. If you leave now, and take your hired goons with you, you just might be able to get out of the country before I tell them your name.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Better get moving.”
Once out of the labyrinth, she ducked into the south transept and looked down at the phone, which was still in video mode. She thumbed the button to stop recording and opened the phone function, but she did not call the police.
After the first ring, Dourado’s wary voice sounded in her ear. “Cerberus Group.”
“Cintia, it’s me.”
“Augustina! I mean, Dr. Gallo. Thank God.”
Gallo smiled. Dourado was always so very formal. “Listen. I need you to—”
“Let me go first,” Dourado said, cutting her off. “I probably know more than you do. Dr. Pierce and Fiona are safe. They got out. They’re heading your way. Are you safe?”
Gallo sagged against the wall, the adrenaline of her escape draining away, leaving her feeling weak in the knees. “Safe?”