The Alexandria Link

He knew this one intimately.

Five years ago he’d secretly completed the hero’s quest, just before he’d called Cotton Malone for help. When he’d first arrived, gained access to the library, and learned that all he suspected about the Bible was true, he’d been overwhelmed. But when the Guardians asked for his help, he’d been thrilled. Many Guardians had been recruited from invitees, and all of the Guardians there then believed he should be their Librarian. They’d explained about the threats closing in and he’d agreed to solve their problem. But in the end he’d needed help, too. Which was why Malone had been involved.

Patience and knowledge had served him well.

He only hoped he hadn’t miscalculated.

He stood still at the doorway leading from the Room of Eternity, Pam Malone behind him.

“Wait here,” he whispered.

He eased forward through the corridor, turned its corner, and stole a peek into the Reading Room. He saw movement left and right. One man behind the shelves, the other using the tables for cover.

He crept back to Pam Malone and handed her his gun.

“I have to go in there,” he said in a soft voice.

“And you’re not coming back out.”

He shook his head. “This is the end.”

“You promised Cotton a long talk.”

“I lied.” He paused. “And you knew it.”

“It’s the lawyer in me.”

“No, it’s the human being in you. We all do things we regret. I’ve done my share. But at least, at the end of my life I was able to keep this library alive.” He saw something in her eyes. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then you know what you have to do.”

He saw her confusion and patted her shoulder. “You’ll know, when the moment arrives.” He pointed at the gun. “Have you ever fired one before?”

She quickly shook her head no.

“Just point and pull the trigger. It kicks, so hold it steady.”

She said nothing, but he was satisfied that she understood.

“Have a prosperous life. Tell Cotton he always had my respect.”

And he turned and walked toward the Reading Room.

“WE CAN SIT HERE ALL DAY,” MALONE CALLED OUT.

“You’re in way over your head,” McCollum said. “A bit out of practice, aren’t you?”

“I can kick your ass.”

McCollum chuckled. “Tell you what I’m going to do. Think I’ll double back and kill that ex-wife of yours. I would have killed your boy, too, if you hadn’t taken out those idiots I hired. And by the way, did you think that was your doing? I set up that whole thing and you followed like a hound dog after the fox. Plan B was to kill the boy. Either way, I’d have found George Haddad.”

He knew what McCollum was doing. Trying to work him up. Piss him off. Get him to react. But he wondered about something. “You ever find Haddad?”

“Nope. You were there when the Israelis killed him. I heard the whole thing.”

Heard it? McCollum had no idea about the Librarian. So he asked, “Where’d you get that quest?”

“I gave it to him.”

The new voice was George Haddad’s.

Malone saw the Palestinian standing in the far doorway.

“Mr. Sabre, I manipulated you in the same way you did Cotton. I left the audiotape and the information on my computer for you to find, including the quest, which I created. I assure you, the journey I completed to originally find this place was much more difficult.”

“You’re full of crap,” McCollum said.

“It had to be a challenge. Too easy and you might have thought it a trap. Too hard and you would have never made it. But you were anxious. I even left you a flash drive beside my computer, and you thought nothing of it. More of the bait for this trap.”

Malone noticed that, from where Haddad stood, a clear line of sight existed to McCollum’s position. But both of Haddad’s hands were empty. Something that had surely been noticed.

“George, what are you doing?” he called out.

“Finishing what I started.”

Haddad stepped toward McCollum.

“Trust what you know, Cotton. She won’t let you down.”

And his friend kept walking.

SABRE WATCHED THE LIBRARIAN MARCH TOWARD HIM. THIS man was George Haddad? All of what happened had been pla

What had the old man called it? A trap? Hardly.

So he fired one shot.

To the Librarian’s head.

MALONE SCREAMED “NO” AS THE BULLET PLOWED INTO GEORGE Haddad. He had so many questions he wanted to ask him, so much he hadn’t understood. How had the Palestinian found his way from the West Bank, to London, to here? What was happening? What was it Haddad knew that was worth all this?

Anger surged through him and he clicked off two shots McCollum’s way, but they only damaged the far wall.

Haddad lay motionless, a lake of blood forming around his head.

“The old man had guts,” McCollum called out. “I was going to kill him anyway. Maybe he knew that?”

“You’re dead” was all Malone said in response.

A chuckle from the other side of the hall. “Like you said about yourself. You might find that hard to accomplish.”

He knew he had to end this. The Guardians were counting on him. Haddad had been counting on him.

Then he saw Pam.

Inside the doorway leading out. Just in the shadows, the angle making her invisible to McCollum.

She held a gun.

Trust what you know.

Haddad’s last words.

He and Pam had spent most of their lives together, the past five hating each other. But she was a part of him, and he of her, and they always would be linked. If not by Gary, then by something neither one of them could explain. Not necessarily love, but a bond. He wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her and he had to trust that she wouldn’t to him.

She won’t let you down.

He popped the magazine from his gun, then aimed toward McCollum and pulled the trigger. The bullet already in the chamber thudded into one of the tabletops.

Then a click. And another.

One more to make the point.

“End of the line, Malone,” McCollum said.

He stood, hoping his adversary would want to savor the kill. If McCollum chose to fire from his concealed position, he and Pam were both dead. But he knew his enemy. McCollum stood, gun pointed, and advanced from behind the table, weaving a path close to where Malone stood. Now his back was to the doorway. Not even his peripheral vision would help.

He needed to stall. “Your name Sabre?”

“The name I use over here. My real name is McCollum.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Kill everyone here and keep this all to myself. Real simple.”

“You don’t have a clue as to what’s here. What are you going to do with it?”

“I’ll get people who know. My bet is there’s plenty. Just the Old Testament thing is enough to make my mark on the world.”

Pam had not moved. She’d certainly heard the clicks and knew that he was at McCollum’s mercy. He imagined her fear. Over the past few days she’d seen people die. Now the terror of her killing another person must be surging through her. He’d felt that uncertainty himself. Pulling the trigger was never easy. The act came with consequences, the fear of which could absolutely paralyze. He only hoped her instincts would win out over her terror.

McCollum raised his gun. “Say hello to Haddad for me.”

Pam rushed from the archway and her footsteps momentarily distracted McCollum. His head jerked right and he apparently caught sight of movement in the corner of his eye. Malone used that instant to kick the gun from McCollum’s hand. He then jammed a fist into the other man’s face, sending McCollum staggering back. He lunged to pound the bastard, but McCollum recovered and propelled himself forward. Together they slammed onto one of the tables and rolled off the other side. He brought a knee into the stomach and heard the breath leave his opponent.

He stood and grabbed McCollum off the floor, expecting him to be winded. Instead, McCollum rammed his fists into Malone’s chest and face.