The Templar's Quest Part 30

'Who proved that gravity wasn't a force, as Newton had described it, but was, instead, the movement of matter in a unified s.p.a.cetime continuum.' The bowling ball on the trampoline from her earlier example. But what did that have to do with time?

'Einstein conclusively demonstrated that just as we can move backwards and forwards in s.p.a.ce ' Dr Uhlemann moved his index finger, first one way, then the other 'we can move forwards and backwards in time.'

'Well, Finnegan's Law says that you can only move forwards or backwards in time if you reset the clock.'

'Pish-pos.h.!.+' Dr Uhlemann snorted. 'Do you know why Einstein considered the Theory of General Relativity his greatest achievement?'

'No. And I would have thought that the Special Theory of Relativity and E=mc2 would take top honours,' Finn countered, proving that he knew more science than he let on.

'A proud achievement, certainly. But Einstein understood the inherent possibilities that arise when matter curves s.p.a.ce. That curving of s.p.a.ce is what we call gravity. Since Einstein proved that s.p.a.ce and time are a single unified continuum, one can also use gravity to curve time.'

'While that's a scientifically valid argument, you would need an enormous amount of matter,' Kate pointed out. 'Only an object as big as a planet can produce enough gravity to bend the s.p.a.cetime continuum.'

'And you wrongly presume that only matter can create gravity. According to Einstein's theory, light can also create gravity.'

Suddenly, Kate realized where his argument was headed. 'And since gravity can bend time '

' light can also bend time,' Dr Uhlemann finished. His lips curved in a gloating smile. 'Light is how we can move backwards and forwards on the s.p.a.cetime continuum. A beautiful and elegant theory that my father mathematically proved. Moreover, he was convinced that the light shed by the Vril's "blue fire" would produce the necessary torque to bend time.'

'It's an intriguing theory, I'll grant you that. But it can't be tested without ...' Kate hesitated. Although loathe to broach the topic, she had to know. 'Without some sort of time machine.'

'Who said that we don't have one?' Dr Uhlemann replied smugly.

's.h.i.+t! I don't believe that I'm hearing this!'

'Nor do I,' Kate murmured, stunned.

My G.o.d! No wonder Ivo Uhlemann is so obsessed with generating the Vril force. If the Seven Research Foundation had a working mechanism, they could theoretically open a tunnel in the s.p.a.cetime continuum.

'My candour is not without motive,' Dr Uhlemann confessed with a shrewd smile. 'My hope is that, intrigued by the theory, you will wish to partic.i.p.ate in our great scientific experiment.'

Finn, hands on hips, sneered derisively. 'So we give you the medallion; you find the Grail; and then what? You go back in time and the n.a.z.is win the war? You guys couldn't win the first time around. What makes you think the second time will be the charm?'

'Because with hindsight, one has the gift of perfect vision,' Dr Uhlemann replied, making no attempt to deny that he intended to change the course of a war that nearly destroyed the world. 'The mistakes have been identified and corrections will be made. This time we will win.'

Hearing that, Kate's jaw nearly came unhinged.

'Wake up and smell the sauerkraut, Ivo Meister. Having spent half my life as a soldier, I can attest that it takes a whole lot of oil to run a war,' Finn argued, refusing to back down. 'Without oil, your tanks and planes are worthless. That's the reason why Hitler invaded Russia, so he could seize the oil fields in the Caucasus. But the n.a.z.is didn't even get close to the Caucasus. Invading Russia is what doomed the Reich. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that eighty per cent of all German casualties happened as a result of the Russian invasion. That's a lot of dead soldiers. No way can you get around that catastrophe.'

'Oh, but we can,' Dr Uhlemann a.s.serted quietly.

'Okay, I'll play your little time-travel game. Let's suppose that you go back in time and stop the German army from invading Mother Russia. That same army still needs oil.'

Like the cat that swallowed the canary, the other man slyly grinned. 'As I understand it, Sergeant McGuire, the largest oil fields in the world are located in Iraq, Iran and Saudi Arabia.'

's.h.i.+t! You wily old b.a.s.t.a.r.d!'

'I agree that it was a colossal blunder for the Fuhrer to think he could conquer the Soviet Union. A poorly thought-out strategy, it was driven by an egomaniacal desire to enslave the Slavic race. Hitler thought the Germans had only to kick down the door and the whole Russian house would fall to pieces. A horrendous miscalculation. Instead, we will abide by the 1939 GermanSoviet Non-aggression Pact.' As though it were already a done deal, Dr Uhlemann then said blithely, 'Peace with Stalin is a small price to pay for victory.'

'And it's a h.e.l.luva long way from Berlin to Baghdad. Just how are you planning on getting there?'

'Thanks to Italy's dictator, Benito Mussolini, Greece was under German control. From the Greek Islands, we will invade Istanbul.'

'The Turks are a tough bunch, but compared to the Ruskies, a soft target,' Finn readily admitted. 'Once Turkey falls, I a.s.sume that you'll attack Iraq from the north.'

Uhlemann confirmed with a nod. 'At the same time, we will reinforce Field Marshal Rommel's forces in North Africa so that he can invade Saudi Arabia from Egypt.' A triumphant gleam in his watery blue eyes, Dr Uhlemann shoved the figurative blade a little deeper. 'By the end of 1941, we will have secured the entire Middle East. That done, we can turn our attention to India while j.a.pan secures Southeast Asia.'

Noticeably subdued, Finn folded his arms over his chest. 'I gotta admit, had you gone with that plan instead of invading Russia, the Axis of Evil would have conquered almost the entire non-English-speaking world.'

'Before the Americans even entered the war, I might add.'

Horrified by Uhlemann's evil plan, Kate rose to her feet. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she walked over to the porthole. On the other side of the thick gla.s.s, charcoal shadows lent an other-worldly air to the dimly lit cemetery, the marble statues like mother-of-pearl ghosts.

'My colleagues and I believe that war is a purifying force for good,' Dr Uhlemann intoned.

'It can be,' Finn conceded. 'It can also inflict unimaginable pain and misery. Just like National Socialism imparted a s.h.i.+tload of pain and misery on the whole of Europe.'

'You say that because you are sadly misinformed about the ideology behind National Socialism.' Ivo held up a blue-veined hand, forestalling Finn's objection. 'The slaughter of the Jews was a heinous crime. And one that will not be repeated. On that, you have my word. We have a mandate bequeathed to us by our fathers. We are committed to carrying it out.'

Still peering through the porthole, Kate caught the bright flash of a headlight.

'Someone just drove through the cemetery gate!' she exclaimed, her heart forcefully slamming against her breastbone.

Finn rushed over to the window, shouldering her out of the way.

'We've got movement,' he hissed, reaching for the gun shoved into the small of his back. 'About seventy-five yards northwest of the mausoleum.'

Dr Uhlemann cackled softly. 'Oh, did I not mention that every vehicle in our fleet has a tracking device?'

'You evil old f.u.c.ker!'

'If you want to leave here alive, you will give me the Montsegur Medallion.'

A murderous gleam in his eyes, Finn pointed the Mark 23 at Ivo Uhlemann's left temple.

'The only thing I'm giving you is a bullet to the brain.'

65.

Mont de la Lune, The Languedoc 0344 hours Sheep bells jangled in the distance.

Normally a soothing sound, for some reason Caedmon found it jarring. In fact, he found the entire scenario unsettling. The pumpkin moon half hidden in the clouds. The night wind. The intermittent flashes of lightning that preceded the stentorian groans of thunder. And most disturbing of all, the brooding silhouette of Montsegur on the northern horizon. Looming. Keeping silent vigil as it had for the last eight hundred years.

I feel like a castaway from a d.a.m.ned Bronte novel.

No sooner did that thought cross his mind than Caedmon tripped on a gnarled tree root that had burst free from the imprisoning terrain.

'On second thoughts, maybe a screwball comedy,' he muttered, managing to catch himself in mid-pratfall. Rather than hiking back to Montsegur in the dead of night, he probably should have stayed in the mountaintop eyrie. But spurred by his staggering discovery, he was anxious to return to Paris post-haste.

Certain that he heard a branch snap, his ears p.r.i.c.ked. Thinking he might not be alone, he dodged behind a pitted boulder.

Had he been followed to Mont de la Lune?

Or was he simply overreacting to the Gothic shadows?

Unnerved, Caedmon skimmed the torch beam across the ravine. Unable to detect any movement in the blotchy moonlight, he suspected the predator lurked only in his imagination and that what he'd heard had been nothing more than the wind bouncing off the granite crenellations.

He glanced at his wrist.w.a.tch. Three hours until daybreak. Worried that if he continued the trek the tangled matrix of loose rock and uneven terrain might get the better of him, he scoured the vicinity. The prudent course would be to catch a few hours sleep and hike back to the village of Montsegur at first light. He could then collect his hire car, drive to Ma.r.s.eille and catch the northbound train for Paris. No sense wandering the moors like the poor bedevilled Heathcliff.

Espying a cantilevered overhang, Caedmon trudged in that direction, sidestepping a thicket of hawthorn bushes. He tucked the torch into his jacket pocket, freeing his hands so he could climb on to the stone slab.

As good a bed as any, he decided. An alpine meadow would have been better but he didn't relish sleeping with a mob of burly sheep. Slipping his rucksack off his shoulder, he carefully set it down, mindful of the precious cargo nestled in the bottom. Parched, he retrieved his water bottle. Down to my last quarter litre. When added to the hunk of stale bread and a wedge of warm cheese wrapped in a tea towel, it made for a meagre supper.

Caedmon raised the water bottle to his lips. As he did, he heard the crunch of dried underbrush. Before his brain could process the meaning of that telltale sound, a bullet struck the side of his skull.

He spun to the left. Hit with an excruciating burst of pain.

The next bullet slammed into his upper arm. Hurling him up and over the ledge.

He crash-landed in a hawthorn bush, the branches instantly clamping around him, like the sharp maw of a predatory beast.

A torrent of warm blood flowed across his face, blurring his vision. Caedmon could taste it. Ash in the mouth. Certain death.

'Poor Siegfried,' the gunman jeered, standing at the edge of the stone slab. 'The Valkyries await you at the gates of Valhalla.'

With that, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d took his leave, the rucksack with the Lapis Exillis slung over his shoulder.

Horrified, Caedmon railed against the death sentence. He tried to move, but couldn't, his body shocked into paralysis. Trapped in the void between heaven and h.e.l.l, the moon and stars whirled overhead in an off-kilter precession. No sun. Only dark of night.

Lying in that th.o.r.n.y nest, his cheek slathered in his own blood, Caedmon could feel the life force leach from him. The branches of the hawthorn rustled violently, the wind squalling through the ravine; a requiem composed by the winged Zephyrus, accompanied by the harsh jangle of distant sheep bells.

Send not to know for whom the bell tolls ...

66.

Pere Lachaise Cemetery, Paris 0408 hours Kate placed a restraining hand on Finn's arm. 'If you kill Doctor Uhlemann, you'll spend the rest of your life in prison. If that happens, you'll never be able to apprehend the Dark Angel.'

Finn glared at the white-haired man huddled on the floor, the muscles in his arm piston tight.

'Please, for my sake,' she whispered. Desperately hoping to get through to him, she was afraid to break eye contact. Worried that if she did, he'd pull the trigger.

'The old b.a.s.t.a.r.d knew they'd show up,' Finn rasped. 'He's just been sitting there biding his time. Waiting for 'em to kick down the door.'

'Actually, I've been trying to persuade you to come to your senses,' Dr Uhlemann declared in a noticeably weakened voice. 'Play your cards right and you can become a member of the most elite military force in history. I am offering you a chance to not only save your life, but to improve your lot in life. All you have to do is hand over the Montsegur Medallion.'

'f.u.c.k you!'

'If you insist on behaving like a fool, Sergeant McGuire, you will die an inglorious death. On that, you have my word.'

'News flash: I plan on getting out of here alive.' Finn took a menacing step in the older man's direction. 'But I'm gonna need a human s.h.i.+eld.'

Kate spared their captive a quick glance. Face drawn, brow beaded with perspiration, Ivo Uhlemann was clearly in a great deal of pain. Although the man was a monster, he was an ailing one. 'We can't take him; he's too frail. Just look at him. He'll only slow us down,' she added, hoping that would sway Finn.

'You just cut a break, you d.a.m.n n.a.z.i b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' Finn muttered under his breath as he unzipped his Go Bag. Retrieving the Taser, he unceremoniously shoved it in Kate's direction. 'If you have to fire it, make sure you're within fifteen feet of the target. Slide the safety back and hold the trigger for at least three seconds. You'll only have the one cartridge so make sure your aim is true. Got it?'

'I understand.' Kate wiped her sweaty hand on her trouser leg before taking the Taser from him. It was the first time in her life that she'd ever held a weapon. It felt like a foreign object. The fact that it looked like a child's toy made her all the more nervous.

Still muttering angrily, Finn slapped a piece of grey duct tape over Dr Uhlemann's mouth before restraining the older man's wrists and ankles. That done, he rejoined Kate at the porthole window.

'On the count of three, we're going to bolt out of this mausoleum, hang a Louie and run like the wind.' Instructions issued, Finn flung open the heavy iron door.

'Three!' arrived so suddenly that Kate's legs and feet involuntarily moved of their own accord, her brain playing catch-up as they charged through the gloom. Because of the glut of burial crypts, monuments, tombstones and funerary statues, it was impossible to 'run'. Instead, they managed a fast trot as they wended their way through the jumble.

'Be careful,' Finn whispered, cinching a hand around her elbow. 'The cobbles are slippery.'

Knowing that an answer wasn't necessary, or even desired, she nodded breathlessly.

They'd gone approximately a hundred yards when Kate started to lag, her s.h.i.+n muscles painfully protesting against the uphill trek. Lungs on fire, she strained to draw breath, her rucksack smacking against her spine with each plodding stride.

Still holding her by the elbow, Finn headed for an enormous marble statue of a seated woman garbed in cla.s.sical robes. Morta. The Roman G.o.ddess of death.

Kate wedged herself into the protective crevice between Morta and the iron portcullis that marked the entrance to a Roman-style crypt. Legs wobbling, she gratefully slid to her haunches.

Finn dropped on bent knee beside her. 'We'll rest here for a few moments while I figure out how the h.e.l.l we're gonna elude the bad guys.'

'Not only do we have to contend with the hilly terrain, but it's like a big marble maze,' she huffed.

'That's the least of our worries. The only way out of here is through the same gate we entered. All of the other gates are locked until nine o'clock when the cemetery opens to the public.'

'Do you think our a.s.sailants are aware of that fact?'

Grim-faced, Finn nodded. 'And I guarantee they've got at least one sentry posted at the open gate.' He shoved his hand into his Go Bag and removed a pair of night-vision goggles. Pivoting on his heel, he raised the goggles to his eyes and peered in the direction of the mausoleum where they'd left Dr Uhlemann. 'I count a total of four unfriendlies.'

Oh, G.o.d!

'd.a.m.n it!'