The Testament

Lashing out with his right foot, Cornadoro drove Bravo's body beneath the rope barrier at the i

Cornadoro struck him as he got to one knee, then grabbed him, pulled him off his feet. Their faces were very close. Bravo could smell the animal stink of the man, could feel the heat of his bloodlust and something else, something cool and detached: the total absence of fear.

"I want the cache of secrets." Cornadoro's voice was like a file sawing against Bravo's flesh. "Where is it? I want it. Where is it?" He flung Bravo against the side of the building. "Give me the information, or by Christ I'll rend you limb from limb. I'll leave you no man at all, or worse. When I'm done you won't even be human, you'll beg me to kill you."

From the first, Bravo had tried to get to Lorenzo Fornarini's dagger, but when he'd struck the concrete wall the knife had shifted, and now he couldn't reach it no matter how hard he tried. In any event, there was no time now because Cornadoro, swinging the push-dagger like a reaper, was about to make good on his threat.

The point of the push-dagger rushed in at Bravo. He tramped heavily on Cornadoro's instep, and as the bigger man reacted, he went straight for the inside of his wrist, digging thumb and forefinger into the nerve and tendon bundle. The push-dagger clattered to the bamboo beneath their feet.

With an animal growl, Cornadoro rabbit-punched Bravo in the kidney, then drove his knee into Bravo's chin. Bravo went to his hands and knees. Cornadoro smashed his fists into Bravo's spine. Bravo collapsed onto the sandblaster.

It was the machine's vibrations that kept him from slipping into unconsciousness. As Cornadoro stooped down to deliver the paralyzing blow, Bravo grabbed the sandblaster and flipping onto his back, aimed the nozzle at his tormentor, pulled the trigger.

Cornadoro bellowed, staggered back, and Bravo got to his feet, pressing his attack. Cornadoro let him commit himself before using powerful arms, elbows first, to knock the sand-blaster away. Now Cornadoro clapped one huge hand around Bravo's neck and pressed on his carotid.

Bravo's arms flailed, he gasped for breath, but the blackness of the abyss was all around him, obliterating his senses one by one.

Both Je

And so both women ran, side by side, both locked in their own fears and anxieties. No doubt that was why neither of them saw the man hurtle out of the trees where he had been hiding. He leapt onto Je

Camille stood less than eight meters away. She knew the man-the Albanian, one of Jordan's hand-picked Knights of the Field. The implications of his being here, spying on Damon-and on her-were as immediate as they were dire. Jordan no longer trusted her; he meant to get the Order's cache of secrets for himself. Camille experienced a moment of indecision, unusual for her. She could either help Je

Using his last ounce of strength, Bravo slammed his knee into Cornadoro's groin. He had the angle, the angle at which the genitals are at their most vulnerable, when the proper force could produce the maximum damage.

The moment he co

He fell.

But not far. He grabbed onto Khalif, wrapping both arms, heavy as lead weights, around the Turk's waist. Together, they swung in dangerous arcs, while Khalif groaned at the strain on his arms, shoulders and back. Above them, Cornadoro was on hands and knees, his eyes were watering and his head was wagging back and forth like a wounded bull. Then, ignoring all pain, he scooped up the push-dagger and began to saw at the hanging rope-Bravo and Khalif's lifeline.

"My shoulder is dislocated, I can't get to him," Khalif said. "But you have a chance. When I let go, grab the rope and pull yourself up."

"Are you crazy?" Bravo said. "You're not sacrificing yourself for me."

"Why not? It's my life," Khalif said. "Besides, you'd do the same for me."

Camille ran until she had a clear shot up through the folds of plastic sheeting to the scaffold on the eleventh floor. Kneeling, she raised the Witness, bracing one hand on the other, forming a steady tripod. She got Damon in her sights, took a breath, exhaled. Her forefinger tightened on the trigger.

Bravo, fighting to keep Khalif from dropping off the rope, scrambled up the Turk's body, grabbed the rope and clamped his legs around Khalif's waist, holding the man fast.

"These heroics will do you no good," Khalif said as he tried to free himself from Bravo's embrace. But at that instant two shots sounded from below, a spray of blood struck them, hot and strong, and Cornadoro staggered backward across the scaffold. They glanced down to see Camille in her marksman's position. Then Je

"Jesus Christ," Bravo said, as the scaffold began its descent.

"God is good," Khalif breathed.

A moment later, a body fell past them, spraying them in the face and chest with more blood-Damon Cornadoro on his long journey to hell.

Chapter 30

The first face Bravo saw when he opened his eyes was Je

"Where am I?"

"In the back of Damon Cornadoro's truck." Je

"What happened?"

"Cornadoro's dead-Camille shot him and he fell from the scaffold."

"I saw that." When he moved he could feel the deep ache in every muscle of his body. "Where were you?"

"I was going hand-to-hand with someone Camille told me works for Jordan, but that makes no sense, does it? It's why she insisted we get out of there before he knew what was happening, why I stole the truck." She gri

They were pushed together as Camille took a turn at speed.

"But about this thing with Jordan," Je

"Camille's driving?"

She gave him a small smile. "Isn't she always?"

"Where to?"

"The Sumela Monastery. Khalif told us that's where you were headed, right?"

He closed his eyes. It was happening just as his father had predicted in his last cipher: he was not going alone to Sumela. All at once, he felt as if the puzzle his father had left him had gotten the better of him. He felt the urge to stop ru