Pt. 13
Once the journey was underway, each member of the team settled in to prepare for the search in their own way. Alex and Philip huddled in the back with a laptop and various research books the young priest had insisted on bringing with him. Their whispered conversations made no impact on Derek, who sat alone in his seat, lost in thought. His fingers twined around the pendant at his neck, reminding him of the conversation at the airfield. Nick, who had begun the journey in the cockpit, finally wandered out and assessed the situation. In his opinion, everyone was being entirely too quiet.
"So, Philip, tell me about the Grail. What's so special about it that Arkady would be interested in getting his grubby hands on it?"
"Legend has it that it's the cup which Christ used at the Last Supper, right?" Alex replied, looking up at the young priest.
"That's one of the legends. Some people say it has no physical substance at all, that it's merely a metaphor for a relationship with the divine. Others say that it is a cup which Joseph of Arimathea used to collect the blood of Christ after the crucifixion. It supposedly has great power such as healing and restorative ability and the ability to bestow immortality to the person in possession of the cup. Some say it can give the possessor of the cup the ability to communicate with God or to have knowledge of god. It's supposed to be invisible to evil or unworthy eyes and have the ability to it those that are deemed worthy of God's grace. There are even those who say the Grail legend goes back even further than that, to the time of the Celts. Some Welsh poems even speak of cauldrons which have much the same gifts that the Grail is supposed to posses."
"So we are looking for a cup, maybe, or a cauldron with the ability to heal, grant immorality and great knowledge?" Nick asked skeptically.
"But I thought I read that the Grail was supposedly buried somewhere in England?" Alex reached for one of Philip's books and flipped to a page marked with a strip of paper. "Yes, this is what I read. The most well known of the legends dealing with Joseph of Arimathea that Joseph and his sister and her husband left Jerusalem and sailed to France. Joseph left his sister and his brother-in-law and sailed to England
where he set up the first Christian church at Glastonbury. Most stories tell of him hiding the Cup somewhere near by. The church at Glastonbury is still associated with the Grail legends to this day."
"If you were trying to hide something valuable, wouldn't you encourage all manner of false stories about its whereabouts? People would be looking for your treasure in every spot except the one you actually buried it in." Philip leaned across his seat and took back the book from Alex. "What ever the truth is, Arkady believes that this item will give him great power. And he must believe that the Templars had this treasure at one time or he wouldn't be interested in trying to find it"
"We only have our mysterious visitors word for the fact that Arkady has any interest in this item at all." Nick reminded his friends, looking to see what effect his words would have on Derek.
"He would want it even if it didn't grant him immortality or great knowledge." Derek mused, staring out of the darkened windows. "It would please him no end to destroy an icon of faith." He closed his eyes tiredly, his hand absently playing with the arrow pendent around his neck. The others watched quietly as their exhausted leader slipped quietly into a deep sleep then moved to settle themselves in for the long flight ahead.
Arkady's hired killer smiled grimly as he sat in the private jet bound for Spain. The boy at the airfield had given him excellent information as to the flight plans of the Legacy jet. It had almost been a shame to kill him. But his employer didn't like complications, and considering what he had planned for the people in that other jet, it was the only solution available. The kid hadn't even seen it coming. He had been so intent on counting his reward that he hadn't felt the killer slip behind him and touch him with strong and skilled hands. He had been unconscious before he had even hit the ground. The police would find the boy in his locked garage with a hose leading from his exhaust pipe to the interior of his car and a Dear John letter in his lap. They would, incorrectly, assume that it had been a suicide. It had taken a little time to get all the details right but it had been worth it. No one could trace him to the unfortunate man. It was all very neat and clean.
"Neat, perhaps, but not very clean." A voice commented from the aft section of the plane. Thomas whipped around, gun in hand, to see a fine mist forming where there had been nothing but empty seats before. A man emerged from the mist, wearing a leather jacket and cradling a sword in his hands. The smile on his face was almost as cold as the gleaming metal of his weapon. "Hello, mate. Bet you're wondering who I am, aren't you?"
"How did you get on this plane?" he growled, his weapon aimed squarely at his adversary's chest.
"Security is rotten, dear boy. My sister could explain a few things to your Mr. Arkady about how to guard his crafts but I doubt she has any interest in doing so. She doesn't much like your employer. Can't think why, I find him highly amusing myself. So predictable. He sends a dog to do a man's job. Well, we can't have that, can we?" A glow suddenly seem to envelope the man, surrounding him with light and heat. The smoke alarms in the cabin began their piercing whistle as the seats behind the intruder suddenly caught fire, enveloped by the heat rolling from his body. Thomas coolly lined up his shot and squeezed off a round, catching the man squarely in the chest. To his horror, nothing happened seemed to happen. Nothing except the more heat seemed to roll of the figure in front of him, melting plastic seat covers and eating up the available oxygen in the cabin. Thomas choked as he backed up, reaching for the oxygen mask which had fallen from the ceiling, only to recoil as the mask melted in his hands. He tried to scream as his flesh began to burn, blisters forming along his exposed arms. The plane began to buck in turbulence, seemingly seized by a giant hand. Thomas fell, his chest heaving as the heat robbed him of the air his lungs demanded. The last sight the mercenary would ever see before the darkness claimed him was the blue eyes of this angel of death, looking down at him with amusement.
"Couldn't you have just cut the man's head off?" Marianne's voice floated out of the shadows as the woman appeared beside her brother. Around her, the cabin's interior settled back to its undamaged state, showing no sign of the conflagration that hand threatened to engulf it. The prone figure of the dead killer at their feet was the only sign that anything untoward had occurred in the aircraft. The dead man's skin was still smoking, giving off the foul odor of cooking flesh. She kicked it over on its back roughly, then looked back up at her companion. "You've been shot, by the way."
"Wouldn't have been as amusing." Damien replied with a smile. "You do want Arkady to make a personal appearance at this hunt, don't you? What better way to issue the invitation than to present him with his minion dead by mysterious causes before he ever gets to Spain?" He looked down at the powder burns on his silk shirt with a frown. "Damn, that was my favorite shirt!"
"You always make things too complicated." Marianne sighed, frowning down at the body. "Well, at least Derek and his group will have some time to make their search before Arkady catches up with them." She bent down and tucked the dead man's gun back in its holster, noticing the other weapons he had secreted upon his person. "I thought we weren't supposed to interfere."
"This isn't interference." Damien protested. "This is just leveling the playing field. That soldier your knight errant has with him might be good, but even the best of fighters can be taken out of the game by a blow from behind. This way, all the players are out in the open and know each others faces. Makes it much more interesting this way." He started back into the aft of the ship, the mist again forming around him. "Coming?"
"I suppose so." She replied, looking around to make sure there was nothing else that needed to be put back in its place. Then she rose and stretched, like a cat just awakening from a nap. "I'll be glad when the final portion of this hunt begins." She mused, following her brother into the darkness.