Jordan’s head was already beginning to spin. “How about a quick overview? Then work out the particulars?”
“Right.” She continued again. “Until such day, this blessed book shall be hidden in a well of deepest darkness by a Girl of Corrupted Innocence, a Knight of Christ, and a Warrior of Man.”
She took another breath. “Likewise shalt another trio return the book to the light. Only a Woman of Learning, a Knight of Christ, and a Warrior of Man may open Christ’s Gospel and reveal His glory to the world.”
The Cardinal stared at Erin. “I believe that is you, Dr. Granger, along with Sergeant Stone and our Father Korza.”
Erin looked down at the parchment. “Why do you think that we are the ones?”
“The three of you came together at the original resting place of the book. Each of you played a part in defeating the creatures of darkness and returned alive to view the desert stars.”
Jordan sighed—too loudly, drawing the others’ eyes. It all sounded like religious crap, and he told them why. “But we didn’t get the book. It was already gone, taken out into the world. Someone probably already opened the book a long time ago.”
“No, my son, if they had opened the book, the world would have changed. Miracles would be commonplace.”
“Maybe,” Jordan said. “But either way, someone else already found it and took it. They must be the ones the prophecy was talking about, right?”
The Cardinal shook his head. “The prophecy does not say who will find it, only who must open it. I believe that whoever has the book cannot open it because they are not part of the prophetic trio. But I believe you three are.”
“Where do we go to find the book?” Erin asked.
Cardinal Bernard shook his head. “I have no answer to that question. Rhun said that he found nothing in the tomb to indicate who had plundered it.”
Erin sought Jordan’s eyes, clearly asking permission. He nodded. He didn’t see much point in keeping secrets now. She reached in her pocket and drew out the Nazi medallion slowly.
“This was found in the dead girl’s grip. She must have snatched it off whoever stole the book, whoever killed her.”
The Cardinal held out his palm. She hesitated before dropping the silver disk into his red glove.
He studied it for a full minute, closely examining the writing on the medal’s edge, reading it aloud. “The Ahnenerbe.”
“You’re familiar with them?” Jordan asked.
“Our order often had similar research interests as this group. The Ahnenerbe scoured the Holy Lands for lost artifacts and religious items of power. Actually, the priest who once led our search for the Gospel was also tasked with observing the Ahnenerbe. Unfortunately, we lost Father Piers during World War Two.” The Cardinal kissed his cross before continuing. “We lost so many back then.”
Jordan knew how that felt.
Bernard straightened slowly, thoughtfully, and passed back the medal. “I know someone who should see this. We have a Pontifical University—one run by the Order of the Sanguines—hidden at the abbey in Ettal, Germany. They have an enormous research library. There you will find our records concerning the Ahnenerbe and their activities during and after the war. Perhaps that should be the first stop on your quest?”
Jordan looked at Erin. “Do you have any better ideas?”
“Better than a Sanguinist library?” She looked ready to leave immediately. “I can’t wait to see it.”
He grinned. No surprise there. Her excitement was contagious. “Unless Father Korza has objections, let’s start there.”
“I will see to the preparations. After that, I must return to Rome—to ready the Vatican if you are successful.”
The Cardinal made as if to stand, but Jordan held up his hand. “Before you do that, I have a favor to ask.”
“Yes?”
“I wrote letters for each member of my team.” He kept his voice even, professional, trying not to think. “Letters to be delivered to their families in the event of their deaths, and mine. I left instructions with my CO about where they were and how to deliver them. Could you make sure that they are sent?”
Bernard bowed his head. “I can, my son. We have contacts with many army chaplains.”
Jordan cleared his throat, speaking formally. “One more thing, Your Eminence.”
“Of course.”
He reached into a tiny zippered pocket in his jacket and pulled out his wedding ring. He held the ring between his thumb and finger, remembering the rainy day when Karen had put it on his finger, the moment that had been coming at him like a freight train since his senior year of high school. They’d never thought they’d be apart.
“Please see that this gets to my wife’s family,” he said. “I always told them that if I were to die, they would get it back. They had talked of burying it near her gravestone.”
25
October 26, 11:14 P.M., IST
Jerusalem, Israel
Erin had been taking a sip of water when Jordan passed over his wedding ring. She smothered a cough of surprise.
The ring shone gold before the Cardinal’s red glove closed over it. “As you wish, my son. It will be done.”
So Jordan wasn’t married—he was widowed.
She fought to fit this change into her overall view of him, barely hearing Jordan give instructions on where to find his letters and where to send the ring. He was supposed to be married. The tan line said so. She hated it when she misinterpreted evidence. He was a widower, one who had clearly loved his wife and hadn’t wanted to let her go.
This changed everything. If he was single, his actions took on a different cast—as did her own. She began reviewing all their past interactions, centering back at last to that kiss in his room.
She found her fingertips touching her lips and had to force her hand down.
“Excuse me, Your Eminence.” A peevish voice carried across the garden, drawing their collective attention. Father Ambrose crossed toward them. “May I clear?”
She stood, not certain of where to go.
“Of course, my son,” the Cardinal said. “We are finished supping.”
Wanting to keep her hands busy, her thoughts redirected, Erin helped Father Ambrose clean off the table while Jordan and the Cardinal kept talking. She hurriedly followed the fussy priest with their plates back to the stairs.
She closed the door, wanting a moment of privacy with Father Ambrose on the stairs.
“I would like to speak to Father Korza,” she said.