The Devil's Path (An Alexander Scott Novel Book 1) Read online

  Kate shook her head. She was dealing with a megalomaniac. “Mister Wollf, since you are being open with me please believe me when I say that I do not know the exact location of the Grail,” said Kate honestly.

  Karl stood and looked over at Kate’s father. “Miss O’Sullivan, it is getting late. I will have food and fresh bandages brought to you right away.”

  Kate stood and thanked Karl.

  Walking to the door of the carriage, Karl stopped and turned to face Kate. “I shall send for you tomorrow morning. We can go over what you wish to share with me at that time. Please do not mistake my kindness to you and your father as weakness. In addition, whatever you do, do not waste my time Miss O’Sullivan. I would hate for my sister to have to interrogate your father again,” said Karl coldly before leaving Kate.

  A cold shudder ran through Kate. She knew it would only be a matter of time before she was forced, one way or another, to divulge what little she knew. Walking over to the locked window, Kate watched the sun as it slowly disappeared behind a tall mosque built alongside the railway tracks. Looking at the long shadows as they crept over the train, Kate prayed to herself that Scott had somehow survived the attack on the café and was already on his way to the Grail.

  Chapter 29

  The train rocked rhythmically from side to side, almost putting Scott to sleep. Snapping his weary head up, Scott took a deep breath to clear his head. Taking a quick gander around, he saw that Gray and Thomas were fast asleep on the floor, their heads resting on the wooden crate that they had insisted on bringing. Sarik and his son were snoring loudly on the bench opposite Scott; he had volunteered to take the last watch. Scott had to admit to himself that he was in need of some rest, but he knew that was not likely to happen anytime soon.

  Working out a crick in his neck, Scott peered out a crack in the side of the train car and watched as the expansive countryside rolled by. It was early dawn, and a pinkish-gray hue swept across the Turkish plains. He could see several small villages nestled against the train lines. In the fields, people were already up tending to their crops and livestock.

  After leaving Soult on the shores of the Bosphorus, Sarik had arranged for his son to hire a boat to take them to the far shore. Slipping across the busy waterway, Sarik led them to the nearest train station and then after a couple of bribes, he had arranged for them to travel in one of the train’s cars normally reserved exclusively for livestock. A couple more substantial bribes to key railway personnel and they became like ghosts, invisible to the eye. The noxious smell and the constant bleating of the sheep took some getting used to, but Scott had grown up around livestock, so it didn’t bother him too much, besides he was just too exhausted to care.

  With a loud grunt, Sarik snored himself awake. Yawning, Sarik shook his head and then slapped his son on his head, startling him awake. The younger Sarik was no more than eighteen years of age. He had no facial hair on his tight, tanned face. Seeing his father awake, the son stood up, and then stretched out his tall, muscle-bound frame.

  “You look awful, Colonel, put your head down, my son and I will keep watch until noon,” said Sarik as he dug into a small haversack and pulled out an apple.

  “Sounds good,” said Scott, his eyelids feeling like they were made of lead. Scott was about to put his head down when it dawned on him that he didn’t know where they were going, beside Mount Ararat in the east.

  Looking over at Sarik, Scott said, “Sarik, I failed to ask you before boarding the train, but what exactly is your plan?”

  Sarik smiled. “We will ride this train until we arrive in Ankara. There we will transfer to another train heading almost due east straight towards Armenia. That is where the Ararat Mountains are,” explained Sarik.

  “How long will it take us to get there?”

  Sarik scratched his head while he pondered the question. “Colonel, I am not sure. I have never traveled that far east in my life,” Sarik said. “I suspect that it will take us about three or four days to travel that distance. Now don’t worry yourself about such details. I will make sure that we get to where we need to go. There is only one good line from Ankara. If we get there before your friends, we will surely beat them to Ararat,” said Sarik with a broad smile.

  Scott nodded his weary head and then placed it down on his canvas pack. He was asleep and snoring in seconds.

  Chapter 30

  Running her comb through her lustrous hair one last time, Kate reached back and then placed her flame-red hair into a bun before finishing getting dressed into some new clothes that were delivered to her room the night before. She was wearing a blue denim shirt and long white dress, all of which fit perfectly. At precisely eight o’clock in the morning, a guard arrived at her door to escort her to breakfast with Karl Wollf. Her father was still fast asleep; Kate had given him some more medicine during the night and doubted that he would wake up for hours. Following the blue-jacketed guard, Kate was led out onto the train station platform. Sitting at a table covered by a white linen cloth was Karl and his sister Viktoria. Kate’s eyes narrowed on Viktoria; instantly her heart began to beat faster and her palms became sweaty.

  Seeing Kate approaching, Karl, but not Viktoria, rose from the table.

  It was then that Kate noticed that she and Viktoria had similar builds. Seeing her made Kate wonder if she was wearing some of Viktoria’s old clothes.

  “Good morning, Miss O’Sullivan,” said Karl. “Please join us for some breakfast. The view of the city from here is breathtaking.”

  Pulling out a chair, Karl waited until Kate sat down, before taking his seat once more. “How is your father this morning?”

  “He’s still sleeping,” replied Kate, looking over the plates of food on the table. There were fried eggs, sausages, cheeses, bread, silver pots with coffee, and plenty of fresh fruit. Her stomach told her to eat, so she filled her plate with a bit of everything.

  “Did you get a chance to speak with your father last night?” asked Karl, nibbling on a piece of Gouda cheese.

  A white-jacketed servant reached past Kate and poured her a cup of piping hot coffee.

  Kate took a sip, enjoying the taste. If she weren’t the Wollfs’ prisoner, she thought she could be truly enjoying her breakfast. “As I said, Mister Wollf, my father was still sleeping. He has not woken for more than a few minutes since he was given some medicine yesterday. Please accept my thanks. I am eternally grateful to your physician for looking after my father.”

  “Enough of these wasteful pleasantries,” snapped Viktoria, her eyes fixed on Kate. “Tell my brother what he wants to know.”

  “Why do you insist on being so impolite?” said Karl to his sister.

  “Because the sun is up, and we are wasting precious time. As you are aware, the Turks lost track of Colonel Scott. All they found in the sewer system was a dead priest,” said Viktoria, her voice bitter. “As long as he is out there, we have to assume that he will go after the Grail.”

  Kate’s heart ached. She had not heard until then that the priest had been killed. Clearing her mind, she concentrated on the news that Scott was still alive. She knew that he would never give up until she was free.

  Seeing the look on Kate’s face, Karl placed his fork down and said, “Is that true, Miss O’Sullivan, will Colonel Scott go for the Grail?”

  Kate could see the hint of fear in Karl’s eyes. She had them. “Of course he will. I’ve never met someone more pigheaded in my entire life. If he thinks, it’s worth it, trust me, Alexander Scott will try for the Grail.”

  Viktoria, her eyes menacing, reached over and placed her cold hand on top of Kate’s and held it tightly, like a Boa Constrictor trying to squeeze the life out of its prey.

  “No more games. Where is the Grail?” demanded Viktoria.

  The pain in her hand was unbelievable. Mustering all strength, with a feigned smile, Kate looked over at Viktoria. “You can let go of my hand you bitch before I’ll tell you anything,” said Kate.

  “Viktoria!” snap
ped Karl.

  With a savage look on her face, Viktoria let go of Kate’s hand and then sat back in her chair with her arms angrily crossed across her chest.

  Kate felt like screaming. Her hand felt like it had just been released from a vice grip. Taking a deep breath, she knew she had to tell them something useful. If she did not, then her father would suffer. She could only hope that Scott was already far ahead of them.

  “The Ararat Mountains,” said Kate, feeling as if she had just betrayed the entire world. “The Holy Grail is hidden somewhere in the Ararat Mountains.”

  “Where exactly?” asked Karl, leaning forward expectantly.

  “I honestly do not know,” said Kate. “All I know is that it was taken there before Constantinople fell in the fifteenth century.”

  “Her father’s books,” said Viktoria. “Perhaps they have more information.”

  Karl snapped his fingers. A guard came over. In German, Karl ordered that the professor’s books be brought to her cabin immediately. With a click of his heels, the guard spun about and left.

  “We have kept you long enough from your father’s side,” said Karl as she stood. “I will have you escorted back to your room. Your father’s books are being placed there as we speak. I will come by at noon. Perhaps by that time you will be better able to identify where the Grail is hidden.”

  Kate grabbed a couple of apples off the table and stood up. A moment later, a guard came over to escort her back to her father.

  Seeing Kate board the train, Viktoria turned angrily towards her brother. “She’s lying. I can tell.”

  Karl reached down and plucked a red grape from the table. Popping it into his mouth, he looked back at Viktoria. “You may be right, but there is one way to be sure. We must find Colonel Scott and allow him to guide us to the Grail.”

  “And just how will you do that?”

  “I won’t…Duval will. We have men spread all through the Ottoman Empire. We must get word to them to find Scott or face the consequences,” Karl said coldly.

  He called over his secretary to pass on the necessary orders to find Scott and then to secure them passage to the east. Unchained from The Council’s protocols, Karl intended to find Scott and to continue to eliminate anyone he may have come in contact with along the way.

  Viktoria sat back, her anger subsiding. Karl’s plan had merit. There would be no other way to find out the truth other than torturing Professor O’Sullivan for the truth, a devilish idea that made Viktoria warm inside.

  Chapter 31

  Ankara, Turkey

  Sarik ran through the dark back to the waiting train. In his hands were several bags stuffed with food.

  Scott opened the door to the carriage and let Sarik climb back inside, pushing his way past the sheep; Sarik dropped the canvas sacks on the wooden floor and took a seat beside his son. Gray and Thomas hungrily dove into the bags and handed around several loaves of bread, some hard cheese along with some heavily spiced lamb kebabs. No one said a word; they just dug into their food. After finishing their paltry meal, Gray grabbed his rifle, went over by the door of the carriage, and through a knothole in the wood, kept an eye on the busy world outside of their carriage.

  “How long until the next train arrives?” asked Scott.

  “Sometime later tonight,” replied Sarik with a shrug of his wide shoulders. “I wish I could be more exact, but things around here tend to work at their own pace. I will send my son out in an hour or two. He will find out what is going on,” said Sarik, licking the grease off his fingers.

  Scott nodded his head. They had arrived in Ankara earlier in the day and had sat in the carriage with the agitated sheep all day under the hot sun. The air had become stale and stifling. He wished he could step outside for even five minutes, but until the sun went down, he knew they could not risk being seen.

  “Do you have many relatives in the east?” Scott asked Sarik.

  “Oh, yes I have several uncles and many cousins,” replied Sarik proudly. “We will have no problem getting help from them. We are a proud and honorable family. You will see, Colonel.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” said Scott. “After all, you’re helping us with little more than my word that you will be handsomely repaid once this is all over.”

  Sarik shrugged. “I trust you, Colonel. I can see in your eyes that you are a good man and that I can trust you.”

  “I need to take a leak,” said Thomas, looking like he would burst if he did not go.

  “Go to the far end of the carriage and use the straw like the sheep do,” offered Scott.

  With a quick nod, Thomas dashed off.

  “I’ll be happy to get out in the open again,” Scott said. “I can’t stand being cooped up.”

  “Well, my dear Colonel, you had better just get used to it. Our next ride won’t be half as luxurious as this one,” said Sarik, waving hands around the crumpled carriage.

  “Swell,” muttered Scott under breath.

  It was evening; the smell of jasmine filled the air. Throughout the city, a call to pray resonated.

  Kazim Pasha had no time for such things tonight. He was in a hurry. Pushing his way past several children herding some sheep down the narrow dusty street, he sent them scurrying for the safety of an alleyway until he passed. With him were some of his hired men, each one a trusted man, and a trained killer. Pasha had a deep scar that ran down the length of his face. A wound from a fight years ago had robbed him of sight in his right eye. An unseeing, milky white eye was all that remained. He had received the telegram from Duval barely an hour ago, but with the promise of gold, Pasha had arranged for his usual network of thieves and murderers to spread out throughout the city like a spider’s web hoping to catch Scott. Knowing that the fastest way for anyone to travel to the east was by train, Pasha decided to inspect the train station himself. Arriving at the near empty station, with a wave of his hand, Pasha dispatched a half-dozen of his men to scope out the far side of the station and the adjoining buildings, while he and one other man remained on the main platform.

  After an hour of walking back and forth, Pasha was about to give in for the night when the Oriental Railway Company train coming from the east finally pulled into the station. People, goods, and livestock were quickly unloaded. Walking over to the train’s engine, Pasha saw a sweat-and-grime-covered man stepping down off the train wiping his glistening face with his soiled handkerchief.

  Pasha hailed the engineer. “Good evening my good man, you look busy?”

  The engineer looked over. “You wouldn’t believe how busy we are,” he said wearily. “We have to get turned around and leave again tonight. This train is already a couple of days behind schedule. People foolishly expect the trains in this country to run on time,” the engineer said, shaking his head.

  Pasha laughed with the engineer. “I have never ridden a train before, do you mind if I take a look around?” said Pasha, slipping the man a handful of coins.

  “No, please feel free to wonder where you like, just don’t be on board when we leave, the conductor frowns on such things,” replied the engineer with a smile as he pocketed more than a month’s wages.

  Pasha waved to the engineer and then turned to the man with him. “You start at the far end and we’ll meet in the middle.”

  With that, Pasha climbed on board the train with a hand in his jacket pocket, his fingers wrapped tightly around his pistol. He was certain that Scott could not have come from the east, but he needed to make sure. Mistakes were something his employer never tolerated.

  Sarik helped his son back into the carriage. They quickly exchanged a few words, and then Sarik turned to face Scott. “My son says that my second-cousin, Mustapha, who owns a local fig import company here, has been able to secure us passage all the way to the city of Dogubayzit, which is very near Mount Ararat. From there we will need to obtain horses for the final part of our trip,” said Sarik.

  “Ok, let’s go,” said Scott, eagerly wanting to get out of the confines
of their carriage.

  Sarik grabbed Scott’s arm. “Not so fast Colonel, my son says that there are men watching the trains. It would seem that your friends are here also.”

  Scott cursed under his breath. Whoever these people were, they had deep pockets. “What do you propose we do?”

  “I suggest that you accompany my son and me. We will go and chat with Mustapha to see if we can find us a way onto the next train without being detected.”

  Scott agreed.

  After securing the door behind them, Scott, Sarik, and his son walked over to a small wooden shack built alongside the train tracks. Here they found Mustapha waiting in the shadows. He was dressed in loose fitting clothing and had a long thick beard that hung down from his slender face. Sarik made the introductions. Mustapha stepped to the side of the building and then quickly pointed out two of Pasha’s goons trying to move surreptitiously in the dark at the far end of the station. Sarik and Mustapha spoke with one another. A second later, Sarik cursed and then shook his head.

  “What’s up?” asked Scott, feeling lost, unable to understand a word being spoken.

  “It would seem that a rival family is working for the opposition. Those men over there belong to a man called Pasha,” Sarik said, pointing at the two thugs slowly making their way down the tracks. “He truly is a sadistic animal with no compassion for his enemies. My family has lost more men to him than to any other family in all of Turkey. If he is here, we can count on more of his men being nearby, we must be cautious.”

  “We can’t afford to miss that train,” said Scott. “No matter what, we need to be on it when it leaves.”

  Sarik ran his hand over his stubbly chin and then spoke with Mustapha. Turning to Scott, he explained that Mustapha had already sent word for more of his men to come to the station.