It struck him.
The letter.
“Jeff,” he said. “When exactly did our archaeologist friend embark upon his quest?”
“The year was nineteen hundred and ten,” Jeff read the text aloud. “Part of the very first footnote. Is it a clue?”
Bodie couldn’t stop the grin. “Damn right it is. This letter they have on the wall is a vital piece of Illuminati history. Yes, it’s a copy but I’d say they have it on every office wall in this house. It’s a letter meant for all and addressed to the Antiquity Lodge. The date is 1910.”
“So you’re saying the unhappy member of the Illuminati, perhaps in his last act, wrote that letter with the intention that it would always remain on the York Lodge’s wall? It has to be pretty powerful.”
“It is,” Bodie said. “They wrote this letter to the Antiquity Lodge that admits to many years of struggle and strife, that instead of them ceasing to exist they will accept the rule of this other lodge and are happy to be absorbed by it. Basically, it’s the end of the York Lodge as an entity, the dissolving of their power, the end of an era.”
“And a transfer of power, membership and leadership to the Antiquity Lodge,” Jeff said. “As you say, the most important document in their history.”
“Not only that,” Bodie said. “It’s signed by Thomas Kilby.”
Cross was shaking his head at Cassidy. “You missed that?”
“I’m a fighter, not a fucking nerd. That’s why Bodie always double checks me.”
The master thief looked over. “Umm, thanks, I think.”
“Take a photo, just in case,” Jemma said. “Then get the hell out of there. Same way you got in, double time.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna be a slight problem,” Bodie said. “We have a passenger.”
The line went quiet, then Jemma said, “Dead?”
“On and off.”
“On and… what the hell does that mean?”
“It means get yer sexy drawers on, honey,” Cassidy drawled. “ ’Cause we’re coming in hot.”
Cross took the photos whilst Bodie helped Cassidy manhandle the unconscious guard. Once the redhead had him in a good hold they were ready. Bodie cracked the door, checked outside and waved them on. Soon, they were back at the metal staircase. Bodie went down first, checked the lay of the land and signaled the all-clear.
One more corridor and they were again in the basement, flashlights out, and avoiding the sensor. Up the stairs and through the courtyard, locking up every door behind them. Gunn switched his overlay off, killed his monitoring.
Bodie gave the group a smile of intense satisfaction. “Perfect job, folks. The best team in the business just proved their worth.”
Jemma pointed out the elephant in the room. “What about him? They’re gonna know he’s gone.”
“He’s Heidi’s problem now. And yeah, you’re right. But nobody saw anything, nobody heard anything. It’s just another mystery.”
“Under duress,” Cassidy said. “I think we done good.”
Bodie made to move away as the team gathered everything up. “Jeff,” he said. “Any ideas on this Antiquity Lodge?”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “It’s the oldest lodge in the UK, the oldest outside of Germany to be honest. It’s another name for the Grand Lodge of London.”
Bodie groaned. “Bollocks. You do realize that’s where I was born?”
Jeff looked unsure. “I can’t help where they founded a lodge hundreds of years ago.”
“I know,” Bodie worried. “But it’s gonna bring back some memories and none of them are good.”
“Skeletons in the closet?” Jemma asked.
“Enemies in the woodwork. Killers in the cupboard. You name it.”
Cassidy cracked her knuckles. “Shall we get going then?”
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
The train down to London was a rattler. Once a grumpy CIA handler had relieved them of the unconscious prisoner, the team caught a cab to York railway station and bought six tickets to Kings Cross. The two-hour journey would enable them to rest and start a little research.
“Y’know what bugs me?” Jemma said, shivering on the exposed platform. “This poor archaeologist. We know nothing of him, of his motivations. Not even what happened to him. We don’t even know how the map came to be at Olympia.”
Jeff nodded. “That’s been worrying me too. It’s all good information, but what’s the story?”
“We may never know,” Jemma said as Cross came up the platform, loaded with sandwiches, energy bars and bottles of water purchased from the cluster of shops inside the station. “Send the oldest for the heavy load,” he said cheerfully. “I know the drill.”
“Sorry, dude,” Jemma said peering past him. “But that’s what I’m waiting for.”
Bodie had been listening to them whilst turning the operation over in his mind, letting it mold and remold like a soft piece of clay. Now he turned and saw Cassidy walking along the platform toward them. A comment almost leapt out of his mouth until he saw what she was carrying.
Coffee.
“Lifesaver,” he said, and took a cup. The wind was indeed a scythe inside the station, whipping around as it sought victims. A pre-dawn light was breaking in the snatch of sky they could see as they waited for the first train to Kings Cross.
“Where are we with the map?” he asked Jeff.
The archaeologist nodded around a mouthful of sandwich. “Good… hang on… good.” He swallowed, sat on a metal bench and pulled his thoughts together. “Obviously the further we get the less I remember. I started at the beginning and didn’t get much past York. We know the waypoint. The footnotes are a slice of history, nothing more. A way of backing up the writer’s claims. I mentioned before there’s something about Liege mentioned, we should check that. It says that the statue was moved to the Illuminati base of operations in the early 1900s, a mistake I think. Also that this next waypoint is the last.” He looked around. “It should point us to the location of the statue.”
“And more importantly,” Bodie said. “The Illuminati HQ.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Bodie shook his head at the archaeologist, guessing his thoughts. Since they’d saved his life though, Jeff had proven invaluable. Maybe a relic hunter needed an archaeologist as a friend. Another gust of wind scoured the platform, testing their mettle.
“Following an ancient relic, seeking it out, to locate a modern-day version of an ancient murderous, secret organization is a little unorthodox,” Cross said. “But you gotta hand it to Agent Moneymaker, she’s driven, committed and good at what she does.”
Bodie nodded. “Yeah, she’s impressive.”
Cassidy tipped her cup at them. “Get a fuckin’ room, boys. All three of you. Shit.”
Jemma chipped in. “Cassidy’s right,” she said with a huge leap of intuition. “We don’t know jack about her. She’s CIA. A government employee. She may have saved your ass, Bodie, but she could easily shove you right back down the crapper.”
The Londoner brushed at the stubble around his chin. “Ah, thanks for the image, Jemma. So far, we shouldn’t doubt her, but you should all know by now that I rarely trust, and I vet my friends very, very carefully. Don’t worry about me losing sight of the whole picture.”
“Which brings us around to yet another rather large elephant in the room,” Cross intoned gently. “Jack Pantera.”
Bodie took a moment to check his feelings. This whole mission had been a whirlwind, keeping everything else on hold. He found that, despite all that had happened, he wanted to talk to Pantera — question his old mentor seriously about what had happened. Revenge wasn’t Bodie’s style. He needed to understand the situation and the motivations behind it.
“Jack is our next op,” he said softly. “Make no mistake.”