Despite her theory, the seal around the rectangular tomb seemed intact. The richly detailed canopy above the tomb did have a thousand different crosses, knobs, hanging incense holders, and lamps. Each one could be the trigger for a release. They did not have a couple of weeks to find out which one.
Rebecca pointed to the topmost cross above the tomb. She glanced to him. "Worth a try?"
Brandt didn't bother arguing. He just knelt and interlaced his fingers to give Rebecca a lift up to the top of the shrine. After putting her shoe in his hand, she balanced her hands on his shoulders. Brandt gave a good heave, hoisting her up, all the while trying not to notice her outer thigh brushing against his cheek.
"Not that one," she said as she tugged on the cross, then she leaned farther over. "Let me try the others."
After pulling on anything she could get her hands on, she finally sighed. "I don't think the latch is up here."
As Brandt lowered her down, their bodies slid against one another, forcing him to look away until her feet were safely on the floor. You are a married man is not a chant one should have to repeat to yourself over and over again like a penance.
"Tolst!" Bunny shouted.
Brandt spun around, reaching for his weapon, but stopped stunned by the sight in front of him. The old man stripped out of his robe. Apparently Russian Orthodox bishops went commando.
"Bishop Tolst, what-"
"No, let him," Rebecca said, forcing Brandt's gun arm down.
"Oh wow, dude," Harvish exclaimed as he turned his head away from the sight of the pasty old man. "How is him being naked going to open the tomb?"
"Good fucking question," Brandt grumbled and didn't bother to apologize for cursing in front of the now naked bishop.
"St. Basil," Rebecca said, walking slowly around the bishop as he gathered his robe. "He was known for going nude, to show his rejection of the materialistic world." She looked to Bunny. "Does this have something to do with his great-great-great-grandfather?"
The younger woman looked a little more flustered at Tolst's actions than Rebecca. The redhead's cheeks bloomed nearly as auburn as her hair. "Even though they fought horribly, Ivan the Terrible and St. Basil were said to be good friends. Ivan insisted on being a pallbearer and burying Basil in his new cathedral."
"Um, again, how is this opening the tomb?" Harvish asked again. "'Cause I did not sign on for this."
As Tolst mumbled a prayer in Russian, Bunny's eyes zigged and zagged back and forth, clearly trying to piece together the bishop's behavior with a memory, any memory that might help.
"He did say..." Bunny said then paused, squinting. The younger woman was so like Rebecca. You could see her picturing the conversation again, playing it through like a recording. Brandt wondered if their similarities didn't have something to do with them constantly looking to the past for all their answers. "When Ivan would come to meditate with Basil, he would only come in his mourning robe."
Yeah. This was getting them nowhere fast.
"There's got to be more," Rebecca urged. She could see that little vein on Brandt's forehead throb. His was more of a direct kind of intellect. Patiently piecing things together was not exactly the sergeant's forte.
"Tolst's ancestor said that Ivan's only comment on his visits here was that he would need to balance the scales between he and Basil," Bunny finished.
Scales. Gotcha. They were a common symbol in religious texts. From the Egyptians to the Incas, scales were considered important in weighing your faith or even your value in God's eyes. Ivan had been pretty terrible. Killing tens of thousands of innocents, his own countrymen. He even killed his eldest son in a rage. It was not uncommon for such men as they entered their declining years, preparing to meet their God, to seek absolution. And since Rebecca seriously doubted that he could find that in any living man, she wasn't surprised Ivan tried to find it in St. Basil.
But is this where Ivan would also hide his most precious treasure? The tablet that contained God's word?
Tentatively Rebecca walked over to Tolst, trying to keep her focus on the back of his head rather than his naked backside. Rebecca gently tugged the blue robe from his hand. "I think I know what you want," she said.
His bony fingers released the garment. Rebecca felt the weight of it. Would it be the same as Ivan's? She could only hope so. Trusting her instincts, Rebecca raised the robe and went to put it into the gilded scale that hung from the shrine.
"Are you sure?" Brandt asked, grabbing her wrist. "We know what can happen when hidden mechanisms are triggered."
No kidding. That dark night in the Capuchin chapel would never leave her. But here removing something wasn't necessary. Adding, weighing the garment was needed. Or at least she hoped.
Gently extracting her arm from Brandt, she placed the velvet robe into the scale, carefully folding the sleeves onto the center. Millimeter by millimeter the scale lowered. A loud creaking filled the chamber, and ever so slowly the seal on the tomb opened. With a grinding sound the top of the crypt opened. Air rushed out almost like the tomb sighed at being roused from such a long sleep.
Waving the dust away, Rebecca leaned over the opening. Her nose pinched at the bitter smell of incense and death. The skeleton of Basil lay before her. Bunny joined her.
"It looks like he was buried naked as well," Bunny noted.
She was right. There were no remnants of cloth or even a burial shroud, which was common in the sixteenth century.
"Skeleton, but no staircase," Brandt noted. "Any other ideas, ladies?"
Rebecca frowned. Why would Ivan go to all the trouble to build a hidden mechanism just to open the tomb? It didn't make sense.
A loud explosion sounded overhead. Brandt grabbed Rebecca, tucking her under his body as the rest scrambled for cover. Except for the bishop, who still stood, stark naked, praying.
Rebecca prepared for the shower of debris. She prepared for hellfire to rain down. She prepared for anything, but nothing. Nothing happened, and then another explosion and again...nothing.
Brandt patted her on the shoulder. "Just the fireworks," the sergeant half-stated, half-laughed. "Just the goddamned fireworks."
Tell that to her heart, which was currently stuck somewhere between her jaw and her clavicle.
Harvish rose from behind the tomb as the loud pops of the celebrations outside became routine. Even the "oohs and ahs" from the crowd out in Red Square seeped into the sanctuary. Rebecca slipped out from Brandt's protective stance, not wanting to look shaky or needy. Both of which she felt at the moment.
"Crap," Harvish stated. "I really thought it was those assholes who attacked us in Pushchino."
So had Rebecca. She was sure they'd caught up with them.
"Attacked?" Bunny asked, holding her arms tight against her chest. "You guys were attacked?"
Before Harvish could feel Brandt's glare, the point man answered. "Hell yeah."
Need to fucking know, Harvish, need to fucking know, Brandt wanted to shout, but that wasn't going to calm Bunny down. "Which is why this is all a little time sensitive."
The horror of that night back in Paris was drawn on Bunny's every feature. Brandt knew Rebecca's dislike for the woman-she wasn't exactly an expert in hiding her feelings-yet she still reached out to Bunny.
"You can leave if you want," Rebecca reassured her. "We can handle it from here."
The redhead shook her head. "No, I just...of course, I mean we are trying to find a bioweapon after all."
Brandt scanned the younger woman's face. PTSD was written all over it, but so was determination. He was going to let Bunny be a big girl and make her own decision. Besides, with the naked priest mumbling to himself, Bunny was the best they had in regards to Ivan and his bizarre habits.
"There's got to be a secondary mechanism if there truly is a hidden staircase," Brandt said, seeming to startle Bunny out of her daze.
"Yes, that would make sense, but apparently Ivan was pretty closemouthed about his visits here."
Rebecca went back to the tomb. She ran her palms along the sides of the tomb. "They are smooth. No outcropping." Leaning farther over, Rebecca checked the floor under Basil's skeleton. "It's smooth too, but it feels like wood."
"It should be stone, right?" Brandt asked, not exactly well versed in tomb construction.
"Maybe there's a hidden chamber under the base," Bunny said. "They would want it lighter for easier lifting, right?"
Brandt joined Rebecca and knocked on the floor next to the saint. It sounded pretty freaking hollow.
Rebecca's hand hovered over St. Basil's. "I hate to say it, but the only possible trigger in this tomb is the saint's skeleton."
Of course it was. Why did he have to be a believer? Brandt wondered. Why had his mother raised him with such respect? Probably because she never considered her altar boy son having to decide between the sanctity of a saint versus the death of hundreds of thousands of innocent lives.
Brandt guessed the bones would just have to get over it. Brandt nodded for Rebecca to continue. She ever so carefully tried to lift Basil's hand. Only it wouldn't budge. She tugged a bit harder.
"I think it's secured down."
Brandt shone his flashlight into the tomb and under the skeleton, confirming her suspicion. The bones were in fact tied down with thin wire. Okay, if that didn't prove there was something under the skeleton, he didn't know what kind of sign he should be looking for.
"Alright, let's start-"
An explosion shook the walls.
"That payload was too close," Harvish said as the incense burner and scale swung side to side.
No, it wasn't too close. The building had been fucking hit. An airburst grenade if he wasn't mistaken. Meant to breach the wall with minimal fire.
"Evacuate," Brandt ordered. "Now."
Before Harvish could even make it to the door, another explosion burst in the hallway. The fuckers had switched to an EBIX grenade. Enhanced blast insensitive explosive. A third explosion set the hallway on fire. Make that a rapid-fire EBIX grenade launcher.
Brandt lunged forward, slamming the door closed. It wouldn't last long though. Not with EBIXs being used, but it bought them a reprieve from the smoke. He looked around the room. There was no other exit.
Unless they could go down.
Until then, they were in Talli's hands.
Aunush took great satisfaction as the sniper timed another EBIX grenade launch so that it was perfectly timed with the fireworks. There was so much sparkle in the sky that none seemed to understand St. Basil's Cathedral would soon become the brightest decoration this night.
Well, except for those within the church's interior. By now they must know exactly the furnace the cathedral would become.
"This is too public," Nannan complained next to Aunush.
She ignored him. He was the sole survivor from Pushchino, but only because he was too scared to go into the field. Aunush glanced to her sniper, who switched from the grenade launcher to his rifle. As the fire consumed the inside of the church the blasphemers would be forced to leave the church...right into the sniper's path.
"We have survived so long by running silent. Hidden from the world's scrutiny," Nannan insisted. Like Nannan had actually done anything to protect the Disciples' secret. Yet he was a Watcher of the Word. She could not ignore him completely. At least not yet.
"True," she said, "however, we have no idea how much Osip told them. We cannot wait and possibly lose them."
Nannan frowned, crinkling the edge of his eyes. "I still do not believe that Osip would betray the Disciples so. Betray the master."
"You were not there," Aunush stated. Thank God. In His infinite wisdom, no one was left alive to contradict Aunush's version of Osip's death. That of a weak old man spilling secrets on the way to his grave. "Had he lived another second he would have rung a bell that could never be unrung."
As the sniper scanned the crowd with his rifle, Nannan finally sighed. "Osip had fallen from grace. Living as he was. Exiled from the Disciples. Bitterness does strange thing to even the most devout."
Aunush only nodded, letting Nannan build the story of the great man's fall for himself. God truly did work in mysterious ways. What had been seen as a grave error in Pushchino, killing Osip while he held a knife to the enemy, could now become a great asset. The master knew how dangerous Osip had been, otherwise the man would not have been in that stale apartment in Pushchino. Aunush and the sniper had done what the master could not.
She eyed Nannan with a more appreciative eye. A few moments ago Aunush had wondered why she even let him live. After dispatching her team, she had felt a weight lift from her. To think she could begin anew. The last tendril of that failed mission had been Nannan. With him gone she truly could write history over again.
But if he was to be so obliging as to write the narrative even more gloriously than she could, perhaps he had a role after all.
"This is the righteous path then." Nannan straightened his back. "How long until the blasphemers meet their God?"
Aunush looked through the binoculars. Bright reds, yellows, and oranges shone within the church. It should only take a few minutes for those flames to consume the structure.
While she answered the Watcher, Aunush's eyes found the sniper, sharing this little moment with him.
"It shouldn't be long now."
"It's pretty damn hot out there," Harvish informed them with the palm of his hand against the door.
Great. More pressure. Just what she needed. Rebecca had tried everything she could think of to open the bottom of the tomb. They knew there was an exit there, one to get them out of this tinderbox, she just couldn't figure out how to get the damned thing open.
"Move back," Brandt urged.
Both she and Bunny took a step away from tomb.
The sergeant raised his weapon and used the butt of his gun to smash into the wood next to St. Basil. The plank splintered.
"Why are you destroying it?" Bunny asked, her voice going up an octave.
"Because it's wood and I could." Brandt slammed the butt of his gun again, breaking through the wood.
"We'll never get through that small a-"
Rebecca laid a hand on Bunny's arm. The one thing she'd learned about Brandt in the year they'd known one another was that if Brandt put his mind to something, he wouldn't just get it done, he'd rock the hell out of it.
One more smash and Brandt slung his weapon back over his shoulder, leaning down, shoving his hand into the hole, fishing around.
"There's got to be a release mechanism-" Brandt didn't bother finishing his sentence as a loud metal thunk filled the room. The sergeant pulled the bottom of the tomb up, revealing a stone staircase leading out of sight.
"Harvish, you are on point," Brandt ordered as he backed away from the tomb and took up Harvish's position at the door. "Rebecca next, Bunny follow directly after." The sergeant grabbed the robe from the scale and tossed it to the bishop. "Then clothed, you go down, Bishop Tolst. I will bring up the rear."
The older man shook his head at the sergeant.
"I'm not taking no for an answer," Brandt said as Harvish climbed up on the tomb's edge. Rebecca watched as the point man shone his light down the staircase, taking each step one at a time. She glanced beyond him. The steps looked like they went down. Way down.