The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [165]
‘The Indian government’ll have to decide what to do with them, I guess. But at least the Vault survived fairly intact. That makes a change for us.’
‘The Khoils still bagged those stone tablets, though,’ he reminded her. ‘So whatever it is they want to do, they’re free to do it.’
‘Bring about the collapse of civilisation, Pramesh told me. So that he can oversee the rebuilding on his terms - and push his particular apocalyptic brand of Shiva-worship on everyone.’
Eddie made an amused sound. ‘He seemed pretty upset when Girilal basically said he was being a huge arsehole.’
‘Pramesh is a true believer - having a holy man tell you that Shiva would be ashamed of what you’re planning to do must be hard on the ego. But what are they planning to do? He said it involved manipulating information, but it’d need a catalyst, something that would make lots of people want answers - answers that could be twisted to enrage them . . .’ She looked up at the TV. The piece about Cole’s Japanese visit was wrapping up, a graphic showing that the final leg of his international tour would bring him to Delhi. ‘It’s got to be the summit. It’d explain why they were so desperate to get the Shiva-Vedas - they had a deadline. And if you want to start global chaos, killing a group of world leaders would be about as good a catalyst as you could get.’
‘But how would they get past all the security?’ Eddie asked.
‘I don’t know, God damn it!’ He raised an eyebrow at her snappish reply. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry.’ She let out a frustrated breath. ‘I’m just pissed they got away. And we’ve got no idea where they’ve gone.’
‘Actually, we do.’ They looked round to see Kit, his sprained arm in a sling, limp into the room on a crutch. Behind him were Mac, who smiled broadly on seeing the couple, and another man, thin-faced with a drooping moustache, who appeared considerably less pleased at the sight of them - or of Eddie, at least.
‘Kit!’ Nina cried, jumping up. ‘Are you okay?’
‘The doctor said I will mend,’ said the Indian. He gave his bandaged arm a rueful look. ‘Eventually.’
She smiled, then greeted Mac warmly before giving the moustachioed man a peck on the cheek. ‘And Peter. Good to see you again.’
‘You too, Nina,’ he replied, before regarding Eddie with disdain. ‘Chase. Hello.’
‘Alderley,’ Eddie replied, with equal antipathy.
‘So,’ said the MI6 officer, ‘how was your party?’
Nina looked apologetic. ‘I am so sorry you didn’t get your invitation, Peter. Somebody,’ she glared at Eddie, ‘made a hash of things.’
‘Completely by accident,’ Eddie told him, not quite hiding a smile. ‘I was gutted that you weren’t there, obviously.’
‘Obviously,’ said Alderley, stone-faced. Mac chuckled.
‘In that case, you can apologise to Peter for the, uh, mix-up, can’t you?’ said Nina. When Eddie didn’t reply immediately, she jabbed him with an elbow. ‘Can’t you?’
‘I suppose,’ Eddie said, with a complete lack of contrition.
‘Sorry that you couldn’t come to our wedding do and drone on about restoring your Ford Capri, Alderley.’
Another jab. ‘Eddie!’
‘That’s okay,’ said Alderley sarcastically. ‘It’s the thought that counts. Anyway, I’ve got some information about your friends the Khoils.’ He put a briefcase on the desk, taking out several manila folders and a laptop. ‘While MI6 doesn’t have any specifically actionable intelligence on them, what Mac told me was enough to raise flags. And with the G20 summit going on, any potential threat has to be investigated.’
‘What did you find?’ Nina asked.
‘A lot of financial activity - hardly surprising considering the Khoils own a multinational company, but our banking boffins are always looking for suspicious patterns. They’ve been setting up various . . . well, they’ve described them as “protected archives”, but you could call them bunkers, I suppose. Isolated facilities with everything needed for long-term survival - exactly the kind of thing you’d want if you planned to spark off World War Three. An old salt mine