Killing for the Company

He barely breathed. His back was pressed against the pillar, so he was looking towards the front entrance of the church. On the ground to his left, the stained-glass window behind the altar had cast a colourful arrangement of reds and blues and greens on the marble floor. Luke looked down at it. A dark shadow there would give him a split-second warning of anyone approaching; and it was difficult, in the echoing acoustic of the church, to work out from which direction the footsteps were coming, or where they were headed.

They stopped after a few seconds and for a moment there was silence.

Someone spoke. A woman. She had a husky voice and a pronounced Israeli accent.

‘This had better be important,’ she said, speaking only just loud enough for Luke to hear. ‘You know Jerusalem isn’t safe for me.’

‘You don’t need to worry,’ Stratton replied. ‘The church is empty. So is the garden. I’ve seen to it.’

‘Obviously. But if I know about the tunnel to the crypt, other people will know about it too.’

‘Right now this is the most secure place in Jerusalem. We can talk freely here.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘I didn’t ask you to like it.’ Stratton’s voice was sharp now, like he was reprimanding an employee. ‘That little bit of housekeeping in London. Ostentatious, wouldn’t you say?’

There was a pause. Luke could feel his blood pumping in his veins.

‘I thought you’d be pleased,’ she said, though her voice didn’t indicate that she cared either way. ‘And you should know I don’t like loose ends.’

‘Was the kid really necessary? The old woman? And the priest, for heaven’s sake?’

The woman made a sound almost as if she was spitting. ‘Don’t give me that,’ she said, her voice full of derision. ‘What difference do they make?’

‘Four bodies attract more attention than one,’ Stratton retorted.

‘It would be better,’ the woman said, ‘if I worried about what I’m good at.’

‘Are you sure nobody saw you?’ Stratton persisted.

A pause.

‘Don’t try my patience, old man.’

‘ Are you sure nobody saw you? ’

‘Have I come all the way to Jerusalem to hear you complain?’

‘You’ve come to Jerusalem because I told you to.’ Stratton had raised his voice slightly. ‘Don’t forget who you are working for.’

‘ Quiet! ’ The woman’s voice was little more than a whisper.

A brief silence. ‘For crying out loud, woman. Put that weapon away.’

The woman didn’t reply. Suddenly Luke heard her footsteps again. They were coming in his direction.

He moved his left arm very slowly, so as not to make a noise, and felt for the safety catch on his 53. His fingers pinched the switch and turned it very gently.

The footsteps grew nearer, perhaps five metres. Luke saw a shadow on the colourful pattern of the stained glass. He could determine the outline of a person, with a weapon in their outstretched hand. He prepared himself for it to go noisy.

‘ Maya! ’ Stratton sounded almost schoolmasterly. ‘There’s nobody in this church. It’s been checked. Now get back here. We haven’t got much time.’

Silence.

The shadow receded, but one word echoed in Luke’s head just as surely as it echoed softly around the church.

Maya.

For a moment he was no longer in Jerusalem. He was many miles further east, by the side of the road in Iraq, at night. A gravely wounded Mossad operative was shaking in the car. He was close to death, and knew it.

You must find her. You must tell her what I did.

Luke shook his head as the memory came flooding back. What did it mean?

And then Stratton was speaking again. ‘Do you know where we are?’

‘Of course I know where we are,’ the woman replied.

‘But do you really know? Here, at the foot of the Mount of Olives. Do you really know where you are, Maya?’

‘What are you talking about?’

Footsteps again. But not towards Luke this time. Away from him. He pictured Stratton hurrying up to the altar. ‘The Book of Daniel,’ he announced loudly. ‘It tells us it is here that the End Times will start. It’s quite clear about that, Maya. Quite clear.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ the Israeli hissed.

‘There are two bone-headed men with guns obeying my orders to guard the entrance,’ Stratton replied. ‘Nobody will come.’

‘You don’t know the risk I take being here.’

When Stratton spoke again, there was a quiet fervour in his voice. ‘Tell me, Maya. Do you want to be part of history?’

Footsteps again — quick and deliberate, but this time most definitely heading away from Luke.

‘ Move! ’ Maya Bloom said. ‘There’s a room at the back. If you trust your two guards, you’re an idiot.’

There was a shuffling sound.

And then silence. A thick, impenetrable silence that seemed to suffuse the whole place. Luke realised he was sweating profusely. He returned his 53 to the safe position. Then, very slowly, he peered round the corner of the pillar. Stratton was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Maya Bloom.