The others of his team clearly felt the same. No one spoke or celebrated. Faces stared upward, as if trying to peer through the limestone to the ruin above.
Only Mendoza kept his gaze down and focused elsewhere. The technician still labored at the laptop tied to the Crucible’s Xénese device. The screen showed that blasted garden under a black sun. A figure stood in the center, ablaze with fury, the serpent in Eden.
Only this serpent—this demonic Eve—was bound in iron chains, struggling under their weight of authority and demand. Links burned brighter with fire, as the creature struggled.
Todor enjoyed her torture.
Especially as her work this night was not over.
He returned his attention to his tablet, staring at a view of the Eiffel Tower, now cast in a hellish glow as Paris burned. He smiled, knowing the truth.
All of this was just a distraction.
The true ruin was yet to come.
The Inquisitor General spoke again, purposeful and rapturous. “Phase duo procedure.”
He lifted an arm toward Mendoza, passing on the order.
Proceed with phase two.
19
December 26, 12:38 A.M. CET
Paris, France
“She’s gone,” Mara said.
Carly turned from the window. She had been staring out at the countless fires across the city. From the fourteenth floor, she had a panoramic view. A pall of smoke smothered Paris, billowing thicker where flames burned. Helicopters buzzed across the hellish landscape, bright fireflies flitting through the dark smoke.
As Carly maintained her vigil, the fires had continued to spread, creeping ever closer to their position. They all knew they couldn’t stay here much longer. Father Bailey had already used his satellite phone to reach out to local contacts. A car idled below, ready to whisk them all away.
But so far, Mara refused to budge. “Look at the feed,” her friend said. “Nothing’s there. She’s vanished.”
Carly headed over, joining Jason, who hovered at Mara’s shoulder.
Mara waved a finger up and down the data scrolling across the screen. Earlier, snatches of that code would flare a bright blue, as one of the data points on Eve’s digital fingerprint was detected. Carly leaned closer. The feed ran uninterrupted now, a flow of white code against the black background. She spotted no flashes of blue.
“What do you think that means?” Jason asked.
“Whoever’s controlling Eve had been restricting her to the city limits of Paris. I’m guessing they’ve tethered her with some sort of GPS leash, using it to keep her code from breaching a set distance. And now they’ve reeled her back in.”
“Like a fish on a line,” Carly said.
Jason glanced to the burning city. “Only because their work here is done.”
“But what they did, what they risked,” Mara said. “One slip up . . .”
Jason nodded. “And Eve could’ve broken free of that leash.”
Carly inwardly cringed. “Something tells me, she would’ve been pissed.”
“No.” Mara looked over to them. “She’d be insane. Eve was in a fragile, brittle state when the device was stolen. With the wrong pressure, her psyche could shatter.”
As if punctuating this statement, an explosion shook the building. A ball of flames rolled past the window, roaring in fury, trailing black smoke.
Father Bailey popped his head into the room, his phone white-knuckled in his hand. “That’s it, boys and girls. We’re evacuating now.”
With the exception of Sister Beatrice, the rest of the floor was deserted. The company’s CSIRT team had already evacuated the building, heading out to help elsewhere or going to the aid of family members.
Carly didn’t need to be told twice. “C’mon.”
Mara hesitated, still in her seat, staring at the screen.
Jason gripped Mara’s arm, ready to tug her up. For once, Carly didn’t object to the guy touching her friend. Jason could manhandle Mara if it would get her to safety.
“They’re right.” He nodded to the scrolling data. “With Eve gone, there’s no reason to stay here.”
Mara lifted from the seat, acknowledging that her duty here was over—then froze. “Oh, no,” she moaned.
Carly saw it, too. They all did.
The steady flow of code now flashed with snatches of blue. In a breathless second, the pattern increased, flaring erratically, almost angrily.
Eve was back.
“Did she break free?” Carly asked.
Mara sank back to her seat. “I don’t think so. Look at the map.”
On the other half of the screen, a tangle of crimson lines again spread outward from the green patch of the cemetery. But rather than coursing into a web spanning the city, the tortuous lines twisted in a snarl in one direction.
“That path is too purposeful,” Mara said. “Eve must still be under control, lashed to some plan.”
“But what?” Jason asked. “What else could they be plotting?”
“I don’t know. We could try—”
The entire building rocked with a deafening blast. A row of windows shattered, cascading glass to the street below. Lights flickered, then went out. Smoke rolled into the lab.
Father Bailey yelled for them to get moving. He waved Sister Beatrice toward the stairwell. The nun tapped with her cane. Without the use of an elevator, it was a long climb down.
“We can’t stay,” Jason said.
Mara shook free of Jason’s grip and remained seated before her glowing monitor. “We’ve got battery backup for another few minutes. We need to know what they’re planning.”
Jason looked ready to haul her over his shoulder. “There’s not enough time.”
Carly pushed him aside and dropped to a knee beside her friend. “Do what you have to do.”
Mara swallowed and cast a grateful look her way.
Carly was momentarily lost in the firelight reflected in those eyes, turning them to gold. The sight firmed the certainty inside her.
If anyone could pull off a miracle, it’s you.
12:42 A.M.
Gray gave up and nosed the limo to the sidewalk. As a crow flew, it was only two miles from Orange’s telecom offices to Montparnasse Cemetery. But they’d barely crossed half that distance.
The panicked populace, seeking to escape the fires, packed the narrow streets of central Paris. Cars sat bumper to bumper. Horns honked, competing with the ongoing chorus of sirens echoing over the dark city. Figures darted through the stalled vehicles, carrying what they could salvage. Then there were those taking advantage of the chaos and darkness. Several storefronts had been smashed open, but they looked empty, as even looters realized they were running out of time.
By now, smoke choked everywhere, obscuring the stars, reflecting the fires below. Flaming ash drifted like some hellish snowfall. Roofs now burned all around, spreading outward from larger conflagrations. Directly ahead, two such infernos merged in the distance, swirling up into a fiery tornado.
Recognizing that their path to Montparnasse Cemetery might soon be cut off, Gray turned off the engine and waved everyone out. “We can go faster on foot.”
Once outside the limo, the huge firestorm ahead of them roared louder, sounding like a freight train barreling toward them. Other drivers quickly followed their example, abandoning vehicles by the droves. But where those drivers and passengers fled away, Gray headed toward the worst of the flames.
“Stay close,” he warned Simon Barbier.
He couldn’t risk losing their guide to the catacombs in the crush of the fleeing crowds. Kowalski led the way, using his bulk to shoulder a path. Monk kept to their heels, holding up the rear.
Simon coughed, patting out a flaming ember on his shoulder. With his other arm, he pointed toward a dark park to the left. “Cut through there. It’ll be faster.”
Kowalski heard and headed in that direction, bellowing like a bullhorn for people to clear out of his way. Gray followed in his considerable wake. They quickly reached the tiny park, a green oasis amid the chaos. They hurried across a grassy sward, past a pond where gold-striped carp swam lazily, oblivious to the fires.
In the center of the park, an abandoned carousel sat, forgotten and dark. Gray pictured it lit up, the parade of the carousel’s horses circling round and round. He heard the music, the laughter of children.
The knot of his anger flared sharper.
How much innocence had been lost this night?
He forged on, passing Kowalski, determined to do what he could to limit the damage wrought by the enemy, to bring them to justice.
Once clear of the park, Simon directed them through several narrow streets. The smoke grew thicker. Past the rooflines, the horizon blazed all around. But the worst rose ahead of them, a fiery hellscape of swirling flame and smoke. Gusts of flaming embers carried that blast-oven heat toward them.
Finally, Simon pointed to a long street coursing to the right. “Rue Froidevaux. This way. Not too far.”
Gray followed, trusting him. A row of shuttered shops and buildings ran along one side of the thoroughfare. Simon led them to the other, to a sidewalk lined by an ivy-covered brick wall.
Simon pointed beyond the fence as they trotted down its length. “Montparnasse Cemetery lies on the other side.”