"Go somewhere where there are lots of people and wait for me. I'll have Karick pull the car around and call you once we get moving. Keep away from this guy."
Alan clicked off his phone and walked smartly to Broadway, to the West End Grille, and ordered a draught beer, brushing off the counterman's request for proof of age with a light mental push. He took a small sip and called Massimo back.
He considered the last half hour...
It was a cool early November night as Alan snapped his laptop closed and stowed it in his backpack. He had eaten a fast dinner in Wein Hall's cafeteria and then spent the last five hours finishing a paper. His joints were a little stiff; he had worked on the paper at the Hungarian Pastry Shop, a small coffee house opposite the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, a few blocks from campus. The Hungarian was a student hangout; people spent hours within its confines, some just reading, others talking, some, like him writing and working. It's been said that a significant number of doctoral dissertations were wholly composed within its cave-like interior.
As he emerged onto Amsterdam Avenue he was braced by a chilly wind. He zipped his parka up and pulled his knit cap over his head so his ears were covered, and then donned a pair of wool gloves.
He could have gone back to his dorm through the streets, a more direct route than cutting through campus, but he had borrowed a book from a friend, and needed to return it right away. Steve, the lender, lived in Wallach, so he headed north to the wrought iron gates to campus, at Amsterdam and 116th. As he emerged through the tunnel formed by Kent Hall on his right and Hamilton Hall on his left, he could see the expanse of the center of campus. Only a few steps into the clear and he was brought up short. There was a man sitting alone on the sundial in the center of College Walk. That in itself was not unusual; people were always hanging out there day and night; but this man was Japanese and middle aged, dressed in a monk's garb. He wasn't even wearing a coat to protect himself from the cold night.
Alan reached out with his mind and sent a stealthy probe forward; he held back from giving the full scan, hoping not to alert the monk. To his horror, the monk turned and saw him, and Alan knew he was revealed. He hastily retreated to Amsterdam Avenue, and decided to walk down two blocks so he could cross to Broadway and avoid further contact. He had barely taken a few steps when he realized he was being stupid. He had been tracked again. The monk knew who he was and where he lived, both on campus and at home. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants, bit the end of his glove and brought his head back to free his right hand, and speed dialed Jack.
* * *
Leaving three-quarters of his pint unfinished on the bar when he saw the car pull up Alan turned his collar up as he made his way to the exit.
"We've been waiting for you. It's surprising really that it has taken so long."
"Please forgive me," the abbot replied, "My English is weak."
Alan and Massimo nodded, waiting for the man to continue. They were sitting on facing stone benches at the western edge of Morningside Park, a weather-beaten chess table between them. It was late, past midnight. Occasionally a dog and owner passed, but as this was a very underused byway they were seldom disturbed.
"I am here to barter, if that is the right word. Trade."
"What is it that you would like?" Massimo asked, his voice remaining deeply respectful. "What do we have that a man such as yourself, could possible want."
The monk said nothing for a minute, preparing his answer.
"You want the woman," Alan said.
"Yes, I want her back, for the order, but, that is entirely up to you."
"If not the woman, than what? What else?"
"You...I...Apologies. I know you have abilities like those of the members of my order. Before I can make you an offer I feel I need to ask exactly how much information you have managed to extract from her."
Alan was about to say something, but Massimo raised his hand, stopping him.
"I'm afraid," Jack answered, "That to do so would provide you with information concerning the extents and limits of our abilities. You understand."
The visitor sighed. "Very well. Then I must be frank. An object has been stolen from us. In order to secure its return she was sent to kill you," he said, nodding is head at Alan. "This object is vital to the continued existence of my order, and we had no choice but to cooperate. Had it remained in Japan we would most likely have been able to effect its return, but we are now certain that it is no longer in the country."
"We know who has it."
Jack shot him an unpleasant look, unhappy that Alan had shown their cards so early in the hand.
"You don't even know what it is," the abbot insisted.
"A small stone. Shiny and black. It's usual place is resting on the altar in the center of your chapel."
"Yes, yes!" The abbot licked his lips, but only because the cold wind was chapping his lips.
They we all getting tired of being out in the open, so Jack suggested they adjourn to his brownstone, and they all left. Jack put their visitor in one car with Peter, and Karick drove Alan and Massimo.
"When we get to my place, boy, let me do the talking."
* * *
Alan was prepared to leave for London at once, but Jack and the abbot wanted to wait. The reasons for the delay were twofold: Michiko needed time to regain her strength, and Thornbow had gone missing. The surveillance operation in Britain had kept close tabs on him for more than a year, not a hard task with a person so public as His Lordship, but he had not been spotted in weeks. They had followed him to his country estate in the Midlands, but had seen neither hide nor hair of them since then. Either he had holed up or shaken the watchers, and until they knew for sure they had no good business over there. If he was cloistered in his castle they would wait him out, and if he wasn't, they were confident the trail could be reacquired if they were patient.
By the end of the night the abbot was installed in Jack's guest room, and Michiko in the townhouse's basement apartment. Her novice would be arriving in two days to attend her in her recuperation.
Karick would be leaving the next morning. He was planning to ramp up their surveillance operation against Lord Thornbow, and to do so properly he felt he needed to be closer to the action.
For Alan, one of the benefits of this new alliance was that his own security had to be lessened. No longer would Cyaxares-employed security men and women trail him around campus; they were needed in Britain. They weren't obtrusive, but he knew they were there, and sometimes he wished he could have a more normal college life. He was discussing the new security protocols with Karick on Massimo's stoop when the Jack popped his head out the window and called Alan inside.
"She wants to talk to you."
"Michiko?"
Jack nodded.
"OK."
