David Leadbeater
The Four Corners of the Earth
CHAPTER ONE
Secretary of Defense, Kimberly Crowe, sat down with a growing sense of trepidation in her already pounding heart. Admittedly she hadn’t been in the job for long, but she guessed it wasn’t every day that a four-star army general and a CIA high-flyer all but demanded an audience with someone of her stature.
It was a small, dim, but lavishly adorned room inside a hotel at the heart of DC; a place she had grown used to using when matters required a tad more tact than was usual. Low lighting glistened faintly off a hundred golden and solid oak objects, lending the room a more relaxed air and complimenting the features and ever-changing expressions of those that met there. Crowe waited for the first of them to speak.
Mark Digby, the CIA man, got straight down to business. “Your team is off the rails, Kimberly,” he said, his tone cutting through the ambience like acid through metal. “Writing its own ticket.”
Crowe, expecting this acidic barb, hated going on the defensive but really had no choice. Even as she spoke she knew this was exactly what Digby wanted. “They made a judgment call. In the field. I might not like it, Mark, but I do stand by it.”
“And now we’re behind,” General George Gleeson rumbled unhappily. The new engagement was all he cared about.
“In the race for the so-called ‘resting places’? The Horsemen? Please. Our best minds haven’t cracked the code yet.”
“Stand by it, huh?” Digby went on as if Gleeson hadn’t interrupted. “And what of their decision to murder a civilian?”
Crowe opened her mouth, but didn’t speak. Best not to. Digby clearly knew more than her and was going to use every last fragment of it.
He glared straight at her. “What about that, Kimberly?”
She stared back at him, saying nothing, the air now crackling between them. It was clear that Digby was going to break first. The man was practically wriggling with his need to share and vent and mold her to his way of thinking.
“Man named Joshua Vidal was helping them with their enquiries. My team on the ground didn’t know why they sought him out, or why they killed all the cameras in the surveillance room—” he paused “—until they checked later and found…” He shook his head, feigning distress worse than most soap stars.
Crowe read between the lines, sensing many layers of bullshit. “You have a full report?”
“I do.” Digby nodded decisively. “It’ll be on your desk by tonight.”
Crowe kept silent about all she knew regarding the last mission. The SPEAR team had kept in touch — barely — but she knew a little of what went down. That said — the murder of this Joshua Vidal, if in any way accurate, would have deep and far-ranging repercussions for the team. Add to that Mark Digby, who was the kind of individual happy to chase down any mistake that furthered his own particular agenda, and Hayden’s team could easily be marked down as an embarrassment to the United States. They could be disbanded, classed as fugitives marked for arrest, or… even worse.
It all depended on Digby’s agenda.
Crowe needed to tread very carefully, keeping in mind her own rather rocky career. Coming this far, climbing so high, hadn’t been without its dangers — and some still lurked at her back.
General Gleeson grunted. “This ain’t moving anything forward. In particular those guys out in the field.”
Crowe nodded at the general. “I agree, George. But SPEAR have and are one of our most effective teams, along with SEAL Teams 6 and 7. They’re… unique in so many ways. I mean, quite literally, there is no other team in the world quite like them.”
Digby’s eyes were hard. “I see that more as a highly volatile position, not a superior one. These Special Forces teams need shorter leashes, not more loose chains.”
Crowe sensed the atmosphere deteriorating and knew there was worse to come. “Your team are off the rails. They have internal problems. External secrets that may yet come to bite us all in the ass…” He paused.
General Gleeson offered another grunt. “Last thing we need is a team of rogue multinationals employed by the United States going crazy abroad, creating yet one more shitstorm. Best to cut ties while we can.”
Crowe couldn’t hide her surprise. “What are you saying?”
“We’re not saying anything.” Digby glanced at the walls as if expecting to see Dumbo ears.
“You’re saying they should be arrested?” she pressed.
Digby gave the slightest shake of his head; barely noticeable, but a movement that rang warning bells deep in Crowe’s soul. She didn’t like it, not the smallest sliver of it, but the only way to break the terrible tension in the room and move away was to move on.
“Put a pin in it,” she said in as light a voice as she could muster. “And let’s discuss the other reason we’re here. The four corners of the earth.”
“Let’s speak plainly,” the general said. “And look at the facts, not the fables. The facts state some bunch of crackpots stumbled across thirty-year-old manuscripts that were written by war criminals whilst hiding in Cuba. The facts state that this bunch of crackpots went right ahead and fucking leaked them onto the goddamn Web, par for the course for this bunch. Those are the facts.”
Crowe knew of the general’s distaste for archaeological folklore and his complete lack of imagination. “I think they are, George.”
“Would you like some more?”
“Well, I’m quite sure we’re about to hear them.”
“Every mad scientist, every wannabe Indiana fucking Jones and enterprising criminal in the world now has access to the same information we do. Every government, every Special Forces team, every branch of black ops, has seen it. Even the ones that don’t exist. And right now… they’ve all got their dirtiest attentions fixed on one place.”
Crowe wasn’t sure she liked his analogy, but said, “Which is?”
“The blueprint of the Order of the Last Judgment. The blueprint to end the world.”
“Now that sounds a little dramatic coming from you, General.”
“I was reading verbatim, that’s all.”
“We’ve all read it. All of it,” Digby interjected. “Of course, it has to be taken seriously until it can be discounted. The main document, the one they’re calling the Order of the Last Judgment, refers to the Horsemen and, we believe, an order in which to look for them.”
“But—” Gleeson clearly couldn’t help himself. “Four corners. It’s completely illogical.”
Crowe eased him along. “I’m guessing it’s coded purposely, George. To make it harder to solve. Or to make it discoverable only by those the Order chose.”
“I don’t like it.” Gleeson looked like his mind had been blown.
“I’m sure.” Crowe tapped the table before her. “But look — the manuscript throws up many questions, all of which are so far unanswered. Chiefly, where are they now… the Order?”
“That is by no means the biggest riddle we face,” Digby disagreed. “This blueprint — that is what we must address with all haste.”
Crowe enjoyed winning that particular manipulation. “SPEAR are already in Egypt,” she affirmed. “Taking the manuscript at face value and assuming our early interpretations are correct — that is where we should be.”
Digby chewed at his lower lip. “That’s all good,” he said, “but brings us full circle also to where we want to be. A decision must now be made, Kimberly.”
“Now?” She was genuinely surprised. “They’re not going anywhere, and it would be a mistake to take them out of the field. You’ve understood the manuscript, I’m assuming? The Four Horsemen? The final four weapons? War, Conquest, Famine, Death. If this is a valid claim, we need them doing what they do best.”