The Cathari Treasure (Cameron Kincaid) Page 3

  Marie brought the mirrored visor down to check herself. She wiped the sleep from her eyes with her fingertip then began combing her fingers through her hair. In the mirror’s reflection Marie saw Nicole.

  Nicole sat silent in the backseat.

  “You are awake. Where is he?” asked Marie.

  “Mister Kincaid went into the market to get us something to eat.” Nicole smoothed the fabric of her skirt. “Is he a good man Marie?”

  “I don’t know,” Marie answered quickly.

  “Can we trust him?”

  “We will need to,” said Marie. She let out a slow sigh, “At least a bit more. We are almost safe.”

  Marie fastened her hair back and then opened the lid of the console where the cell phone had been charging to find the compartment empty. Cameron had taken the phone with him.

  Marie opened the door and stepped out of the car.

  “Come, stretch your legs.”

  * * * * *

  Cameron picked up an orange then gently squeezed the fruit. He placed the orange back on the stand and went on to inspect the next. Cameron’s other hand fished through his jacket pocket. The cell phone had settled deep in the pocket and could not be grasped without removing the long thin dagger he had taken from the assassin the night before. While Cameron negotiated the pocket he placed an orange in his basket beside two others and the apples and bananas picked from the produce racks outside.

  Cameron decided to remove the dagger from his inside pocket. He flashed his eyes across the market to see if anyone was watching then slid the dagger partially up his cuff. Then Cameron lifted the dagger from his jacket, cupping the blade as he brought long knife to his chest. Cameron glanced down then slowly twisted the dagger to see the detailed inscription.

  Inscribed on the length of the blade was a Latin phrase Cameron could only partially decipher.

  Neither hand free, Cameron balanced the groceries on a short table that was stacked with potatoes and then awkwardly twisted the hand that had held the groceries into the lapel of his jacket and down into the deep pocket to get the phone. Cameron latched onto the cell with the tips of his middle and index fingers. When the phone was safely retrieved Cameron tapped the screen twice to speed dial Claude.

  “Cameron, are you ok?” asked Claude.

  “I’m fine, we’re fine. I have them here in Boston. I plan on taking them to the safe house and then I’m heading back to New York.”

  “Whoever they are, they are very serious. By the time I got off the phone with you last night the library was clean and empty. They even fixed the windows.”

  “Huh, I’m glad somebody did. Hey, how is your Latin?”

  “Rusty, why?”

  “The assassin had a dagger. I borrowed it from him.” Cameron again glanced down at the blade. “It has an inscription on it that reads ‘Caedite eos! Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius.’ You know what that means?”

  Claude was silent.

  Cameron tilted the concealed dagger into the light, “I know the first part, ‘Kill them all’. I’m not sure about the rest.”

  “Kill them all,” said Claude, his voice was soft, “yes, I know this. In French, it is Tuez-les tous, Dieu reconnaîtra les siens. The rest reads, ‘Surely the Lord discerns which ones are his’, or something like it.”

  “I don’t think that guy was Special Forces. If he was, he was sloppy.”

  “This is older than the special forces. The Cistercian monk, Arnuad Amaury, said this before the massacre at Beziers. 20,000 people were slaughtered, in search of a few hundred.”

  “Beziers, wasn’t that the crusades?”

  “The Albigensian crusade, it was the typical frame of mind then. Rome had a policy, Nulla salus extra ecclesium, outside the church there is no salvation. To this day, most everyone in Languedoc knows this saying. It represents a tactic of indiscriminate massacre.”

  “I understand that, it’s simple enough,” said Cameron.

  “This monk, Cameron, he was the first of the inquisition.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “Nothing I think, but someone carrying that dagger may be some type of follower.”

  “The woman, Marie, said as much.” Cameron twisted the blade in his hand, examining the metal more closely. “Something else is odd.”

  “What Cameron?”

  “There seems to be blood on this blade. I didn’t see him cut anyone.”

  “Yes, I was waiting to tell you.” Claude did not continue. Cameron thought Claude had dropped the call. Cameron was about to ask Claude if he was still on the line when Claude spoke again, “They found Gerard locked in a bathroom stall. His throat was cut.”

  Cameron hung his head. He slipped the dagger back into his pocket, picked up the basket, and then turned toward the front of the market. “I’ll get to the bottom of this Claude.”

  “Be careful. These people are into something very deep.”

  “Yeah, listen,” Cameron sought the words and then changed his mind and said simply, “I’ll check in later.”

  * * * * *

  Cameron paid for the groceries and walked out of the market holding a brown paper bag. He stopped at the front of the car near Marie and Nicole and smiled. Cameron offered Nicole the small grocery bag, “Apple, banana, or orange. Your choice.” Nicole reached into the bag and pulled out an apple. “Merci,” said Nicole. She then closed her eyes and held the apple in clasped hands above her chest. Nicole prayed in a low whisper and though Cameron could barely distinguish the words, he recognized the unmistakable cadence of the prayer. By the rhythm of the prayer alone Cameron knew that Nicole was reciting the Lord’s Prayer. After reciting her prayer Nicole opened her eyes and bit into the apple. Juice ran down her chin and she giggled.

  “So you do smile,” said Cameron. Marie stepped close to him, put her hand into the bag, and pulled out the orange. “Merci,” said Marie. As Cameron could have predicted the corners of Marie’s mouth stayed taught.

  Cameron widened his eyes as he pulled the last piece of fruit from the bag, “Banana for me.” He crumpled the grocery sack then tossed the wad of paper through the back window of the Mercedes. Cameron peered into Marie’s eyes. He chewed the banana voraciously letting the corners of his mouth form a huge smile.

  “What are you looking at?” asked Marie.

  Cameron swallowed the banana, “Nicole was wrong, you don’t look so bad when you wake up.”

  Marie leered at Cameron.

  “Do you know where we are going?” asked Cameron.

  “I will need to use your phone.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 7

  Boston

  Using the Mercedes navigation system Cameron easily found the food co-op. Marie opened her door as soon as Cameron parked in front of the store.

  “Wait for me,” said Cameron.

  Marie said nothing as she helped Nicole from the back seat. Cameron rounded the Mercedes, walked directly to the entrance of the food co-op, and then held the door open for Marie and Nicole.

  The smell of sage engulfed the three as they stepped inside the shop. Shelves were stacked to the ceiling with herbs, beans, and other legumes. Eastern music filled the store from a tinny metal speaker mounted up in the corner. The back wall of the shop was shelved with brown vitamin jars of all sizes, and fronting the length of the wall, a long wooden counter.

  The building was old and the floorboards creaked with each step they took.

  When they got to the back of the shop, no one was there to greet them. In the corner, hidden from the front by the racks of dried goods, was a beaded curtain to a back room. While Nicole sauntered back down the aisle browsing the shelves, Cameron and Marie stood at the empty counter and waited for someone to come out from behind the curtain. They did not have to wait long. From the back room a skinny man came out wearing a tie-dye and faded jeans, his hair was short and he was clean-shaven. The skinny man gave a wide smile to the three and then shifted his eyes first to Nicole and th
en to Marie.

  “Can I help you?” asked the skinny man.

  Cameron disregarded the earthy man. He focused instead on the long thick canvas belt that drooped across the ceiling. The belt powered two slowly spinning ceiling fans. The drive motor and fans was as ancient as the building, their topsides coated with dust. Cameron had seen versions of this kind of fan in the cafes of Morocco and had thought of putting some into his restaurant.

  Marie surprised Cameron when she abruptly said, “No, you do not seem to have what we need.” Cameron was stunned. This was the safe house.

  Marie placed her index finger on her chin then tapped. “Honey, I remember now,” said Marie, “it was the other store that has the candles. We need to go there.” She placed her hand on Cameron’s arm and squeezed.

  Nicole was already walking to the door.

  “Thank you,” Marie said to the skinny man behind the counter and then pulled Cameron toward Nicole and the door.

  “Are you sure we can’t help you?” asked the skinny man as they walked to the door.

  “No, thank you,” said Marie. Quietly to Cameron Marie said, “We must go quickly.”

  Cameron did not know why Marie had become so unsettled. After what happened at the restaurant he did not hesitate to follow her lead. Nicole opened the shop door while Cameron pulled his keychain from his pocket.

  As Marie stepped in front of Cameron to exit the shop he turned his head back toward the counter. The skinny man in the tie-dyed shirt was speaking into his cell phone, his eyes pensively set on the three as they made their exit.

  “Quickly,” said Marie, the door not yet closed behind them. “We must hurry. They are on their way.”

  Nicole and Marie climbed into the Mercedes as Cameron rounded the front. Two blocks down Cameron saw a red sedan and a yellow Humvee turning the corner, neither yielded for the stop sign.

  Cameron jumped into the drivers seat.

  “We have to hurry,” said Marie.

  “I get that,” said Cameron.

  Cameron started the Mercedes and rapidly shifted into gear. The tires squealed as the Mercedes sped from the curb.

  “How did you know?” asked Cameron.

  “He smelled like you,” said Marie.

  “Excuse me,” said Cameron as he adjusted the mirror, his foot applied firmly to the accelerator.

  “We are vegan,” said Nicole. “He was impure.”

  “The smell of sour milk came into the room before he did,” said Marie.

  Cameron was aware of the phenomena. As a soldier he was taught that enemy combatants could easily be detected by their smell alone. When deployed he was instructed to start eating the local diet as many days before the mission as possible. There were times his squad knew a mission was coming before the orders came down simply by what the cook served.

  “You were obviously right,” said Cameron.

  The Humvee and sedan were close behind them. The road was clear of traffic allowing the Mercedes to race forward. Unfortunately the other two cars had the same advantage.

  A loud thump came from the back of the car.

  “Mister Kincaid,” said Nicole.

  “Yeah,” said Cameron.

  “They have guns!”

  “I can see that! Get down, get down!”

  Another loud thump came from the back of the car.

  “Why aren’t the windows breaking?” asked Marie. She was on her side looking back at Nicole.

  “They aren’t shooting at the windows,” said Cameron. “They’re trying to take the tires out. We have to lose them.”

  Cameron hit the brakes, setting the Mercedes on a skid that swerved the car ninety degrees and onto a side street. The Humvee started to stop too late and overran the intersection. The red sedan made the corner.

  Marie shifted forward in her seat. Through the windshield she could see they were rapidly approaching a busy intersection. “Oh my,” said Marie.

  “You better hold on,” said Cameron.

  “Nicole,” said Marie, “put your seatbelt on.”

  Cameron broke and swerved again. The Mercedes barely missed the front of a black Range Rover. The Rover, brakes slammed, began to skid sideways. Car horns filled the air. Cameron accelerated without looking back. The Rover stopped traffic at the intersection allowing the red sedan to easily pass. The yellow Humvee was not far behind.

  Cameron threw his palm onto the center of the steering wheel to alert drivers to get out of his way. The Mercedes accelerated, dodged, and radically wove through traffic to outrun the two vehicles that effortlessly traveled in their wake.

  “We are only making the way for them,” said Marie.

  “Would you like to drive?” asked Cameron.

  Up on the left Cameron saw the interstate onramp. He decided that taking the interstate would be their best chance to lose the red sedan and Humvee. To throw off his pursuers, Cameron veered to the right across the lanes from the onramp. He accelerated behind then around the far right side of an Econoline van. As the Mercedes began to pass the van Cameron cut sharply in front of the truck, darting to make the entrance of the interstate on the far left. The Econoline made a sharp left to avoid the Mercedes. The front wheels of the van, having turned so abruptly, collapsed under the momentum of the Econoline. The vehicle propelled up and over, the side of the van skidding counterclockwise on the pavement and in a slow spin.

  The shadow of the van briefly eclipsed the back of the Mercedes. “Sorry about that,” said Cameron. He floored the accelerator the length of the onramp and launched the Mercedes onto the interstate at high speed. Cameron wove between the other cars. Traffic was getting more congested yet at the speed Cameron drove the interstate could have been a parking lot.

  “This might not have been such a good idea,” said Marie.

  “Now why would you say that?”

  Marie pointed ahead to the large triangle tower coming up in front of them, shining metal cables skirting down from the summit. “That is a bridge, is it not?”

  “That, my dear, is the Zakim Bridge, and our passage to safety.”

  “Oh my,” said Marie.

  The traffic slowed near the bridge. The Humvee and sedan were closing in. The Mercedes continued to weave between through and around the many vehicles at the mouth of the bridge. Across the lanes was the entrance to the tunnel that ran under the city. Cameron made another attempt to elude their pursuers. From the far side of the bridge, Cameron swerved across the crowded lanes and down to the tunnel. A symphony of horns and brakes barraged the Mercedes. The wide tunnel entrance, dark in shadow, approached quickly and for the first time Marie clenched her fingers on the sides of her seat.

  The tunnel swallowed the Mercedes whole. The lights of the tunnel dizzily careened above them. If they could not tell their speed from within the Mercedes before they definitely now knew they were moving at a reckless rate.

  A torrent burst of shots rattled out from behind, thunderously echoing off the tunnel walls and deep into the Mercedes, virtually soundproof by design. In the right lane ahead a minivan sank into the pavement as the tires beneath disintegrated. The minivan’s backend swayed in front of the Mercedes, first to the right and then to the left. Cameron dodged left to avoid the minivan cutting off a Jeep in the process. The stunned driver of the Jeep spun his wheel sharply causing the Jeep to up end and flip forward and then skid forward on the hood.

  Cameron glanced up into the rearview in time to see the red sedan strike the back of the Jeep, launch into a spin, and slam against the tunnel wall. “I think they caused more trouble for themselves than for us,” said Cameron.

  “I don’t think so,” said Marie. She could see the Humvee circumventing the Jeep that now rested in the middle of the tunnel behind them. Another burst of shots rattled out, the last of which made loud thumps on the Mercedes. Cameron pursed his lips and shook his head. Brake lights lit up on cars ahead of them as other drivers started to slow. Up ahead the daylight gleamed above the rooftops of the cars.


  Daylight engulfed the interior of the Mercedes as Cameron burst from the tunnel. Cameron searched for an exit and at the first chance made a radical turn off the interstate.

  “Ooooh,” said Marie.

  “German engineering,” said Cameron as the Mercedes settled onto a side street. The yellow Humvee failed to make the turn and slid sideways to a stop.

  “They’re not going anywhere,” said Cameron.

  “We don’t have much time,” said Marie. “They know the car now.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 8

  Boston

  Cameron drove a few blocks before he started making indiscriminate turns down side streets. Comfortable that no one was behind them, Cameron pulled the Mercedes up to a curb. He gestured for Marie and Nicole to stay seated a moment longer and then stepped out onto the street.

  Cameron stood outside of the Mercedes with the door open, poised to jump back in if needed. He watched the corner of the street the Mercedes had turned from. The Humvee was not following. Cameron stuck his head back in the car, “Let’s go, we’re leaving the Mercedes.”

  Marie and Nicole got out of the Mercedes and followed Cameron down the sidewalk. He held out his keychain and the car chirped. In midstride Cameron stopped. Cameron returned to the Mercedes. The car chirped again as he unlocked the door. Cameron’s eyes flashed from window to window in search of anybody in the houses along the street that may be watching. Cameron opened the door of the Mercedes, knelt down, and then pulled his 9mm from under the seat. Cameron tucked the handgun into his waist and then, keychain in hand, jogged back to where Marie and Nicole were waiting. Behind the three the Mercedes chirped again.

  “Where are we going?” asked Marie.

  “The orange line,” said Cameron. He gestured to the stop at the corner.