“Or his house?” Jemma said. “Return something new to Spartacus, could mean to where he lived.”
Heidi pursed her lips. “I guess.”
“I don’t,” Jeff said. “This whole thing is about the Illuminati, yes? Their base, their statue, their hoodlums. Their bosses. It won’t be where Weishaupt lived, it will be where he created the larger order.”
“And where was that?” Cassidy asked.
Gunn put a hand up, intent to join the conversation. “I know that,” he said. “Bavaria.”
“Well done,” Jeff said a little condescendingly. “We start there. The statue will be somewhere else, of course, but that’s our first waypoint. You ask why? Because, if anywhere at all, that’s where the Illuminati will still be operating.”
“The place they were founded. The longest roots. Makes sense,” Heidi said.
“And you think that’s where the Hood’s headed?” Jemma asked.
“That also makes sense. The route you told me of so far points that way. Of course, he could literally be stopping off at any town, in any country, but Bavaria is where it all began. And Bavaria is where they still exist.”
“Do we know where he created the order?” Heidi asked. “Because, seriously, I don’t.”
“I have an idea,” Jeff said. “But let’s get to Bavaria first.”
Bodie was already unfolding a map. Gunn was flicking it around on his iPad. “Bulgaria. Romania. Hungary. Austria,” they read out. “It’s a long, long way.”
“Good,” Heidi said. “It will give us chance to catch up to the Hood.”
“Can you call more people?” Bodie asked.
“With this operation? Maybe. But we’re gonna need actionable Intel. The American government doesn’t sneeze these days without incontestable proof and reassurance that it’s getting its back nicely scratched. We’ll see.”
Cross put his foot down as the town ended and the countryside began. “Sit back and rest, guys,” he said. “You deserve it.”
“Except for you,” Cassidy said pointedly to Gunn. “You can slip my boots off and rub my feet.”
The geek sulked. “I jumped on that guy’s back. I helped. I tried. It’s not my fault I can’t fight like you.”
“At the moment you’re pretty redundant,” Cassidy said. “Jeff here’s doing your job. Y’know, if this were a book or a movie I’d be a little scared the creator was gonna kill you off.”
“Not everything’s a friggin’ movie, Cassidy. I grew up an orphan, half on the street. I paid my dues.”
“And so did I. So did we all, to be honest. Bodie became an orphan, went to jail, and became a better thief. He wouldn’t hurt anyone after he saw what his earlier crimes did to people. Cross is old, slow, loses his glasses and take his time. And that was during his prime. Jemma’s quiet, able to ponder a dozen things at once, but she paid the price for it in her youth. Bullies, hooligans, others that would take advantage. Me? I won’t lie. I didn’t do so badly. But I was never loved, never wanted. I knew I’d have to go my own way by the time I was in double figures. Grew up fast, studied fighting, made a few bit parts early on. I was homeless before I was a cage fighter. Did you know that?”
Gunn shook his head, eyes rapt, taking it all in. It wasn’t often Cassidy was so forthcoming, so when she was, the group often learned more than they should.
“Then street fighting. No rules. And I was top of the game. Then Guy came along,” she shrugged, “and here we are. Point is…” She glared at Gunn. “Man the fuck up.”
The team chuckled, even Heidi joining in. The road wound out before and behind them and they sat back, comfortable in each other’s company, wondering where they would wind up next.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Xavier Von Gothe saw everything. In most instances he kept his own counsel, weighed the options and the information and issued the order, often condemning some to death and freeing others. All for the good of the Order. Some matters, though, required input from others, especially when, in the future, he might need somebody to blame.
For that reason his second-in-command, a man they all knew by the codename Typhon, joined him now on an ultra-secure video conferencing line from the UK. Typhon’s first comment always revolved around the weather.
“Cold and wet?” Xavier replied. “Yes, well, it is here too. But a different kind of cold and wet.”
“Snowy mountains? Warm sunshine? I would hardly call that cold and wet.” Typhon chuckled.
“That depends on how and where you live. Some of us choose contentment. Others… don’t.”
“And many don’t get the chance to choose.”
“The herd? Of course not. The herd moves where we want it to move.”
Xavier had a feeling Typhon was complaining but truly didn’t care. Not a man prone to slothful chitchat, he pressed on.
“I wonder, Typhon. I wonder what your thoughts are regarding this map.” He left it there and would judge Typhon on the strength of the reply.
“My initial thoughts center on how it came into being.”
“Exactly. As do mine. Of course I prefer to deal with the genuine article and get it tested, but it appeared to be old. A hundred years or more. It is written in the old style.”
“A malcontent? Somebody the Order expelled?”
“Very possibly. But it feels almost like an account of exploration rather than a revelation. Don’t you think?”
A nod from the head on the other side of the world. Xavier saw only mahogany wood paneling around Typhon and glanced over to the left where his own picture window revealed lofty mountain heights. The differences were apt.
“Investigation required,” Xavier said firmly. “And possible retribution. I don’t care if it’s two hundred or five hundred years old — the traitor that did this will pay, and his name will be trampled to dust when his current bloodline is wiped from the face of the earth.”
“Of course.” It went without saying.
“Baltasar is coming, but he is being pursued. The normal mode of transport is compromised. The fervor is rising every day, every hour. It is good that he has now left Greece, but I fear there is more to come.”
“An unusual scenario,” Typhon said with genuine surprise.
“Yes, agreed. We are investigating the appearance of these new players and, rest assured, when we find their superiors and their weak points, we will crush them.”
“And the other map recipients?”
“All taken care of bar one. He has joined this new team, or so I believe.”
“Ah,”
Xavier watched Typhon. That one exclamation said it all. Though short, it contained shock, fear and… greed. Typhon saw it as a big mistake, that was clear. Xavier tended to agree, but wouldn’t air it even with his second-in-command.
“Perhaps a mass tonight?” Typhon suggested. “Say 8 p.m. your time? We will offer something up at this end too.”
“The Great Dragon will be assuaged,” Xavier agreed. “At least for a short time.”
“And our contacts will do the rest.”
“That is why they exist,” Xavier said assuredly, not able to see any other reason. “We know where Baltasar is. And we know the following team are currently chasing in a helicopter. An event is being set.”
“It is? How are—”
Xavier cut him off, saying goodbye. Everyone always wanted to know more of the events and how they were planned. Everyone wanted more secrets. Didn’t they know that the more secrets they knew, the more expendable they were? Fools. Hypocrites. Liars. Xavier was under no illusion as to the men and women that made up the Order of Illuminati.