“Go, go, go...” Gray urged.
Water swamped into the small study, going from ankle-deep to knee-height before they could wade clear of the room. As the level rose, a certainty grew.
We’ll never make it to the exit.
Jason gasped, hauling through the deluge. “Where’s all this water coming from?”
Gray knew the answer, remembering all the stories of Lavra’s sacred springs, fonts of miraculous healing. With this realization came a hard truth.
We’re all about to drown in holy water.
29
May 12, 11:37A.M. MSK
Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Russian Federation
Seichan stood at the headwaters of a raging cataract and despaired.
No...
Steps away, a huge flume of water pounded out of a trapdoor in the staircase’s roof and formed a heavy torrent tumbling down into the depths. A backwash of cold spray wet her face and soaked her clerical dress.
Several minutes ago, she had crossed through the maze of a wine cellar beneath the Ringing Tower, following a rough description that Monk had given her. As she reached the secret door that Gray had opened, she heard the birth of a waterfall deeper down. It had roared like a buried dragon. Fearing the worst, she had rushed headlong until she came face to face with the monstrous flood.
Poised before it now, she leaned forward on her toes, weighing whether to throw herself into the maelstrom and hope for the best. But she recognized that she would either drown or be battered to death before she ever reached the staircase’s bottom.
She fell back onto her heels, knowing she could not risk it. But it was not only about protecting her own life.
Jack can’t lose both of us.
Still, she stood there for several breaths, inwardly cursing, refusing to accept what roared in front of her, what it meant.
Unable to take it anymore, she flung herself around and fled up the steps.
She prayed that either Gray had already left or that he had some other plan.
She clung to that hope as she ascended the rest of the stairs and crossed the wine cellar. Still, her breathing choked into gasps. Her legs went leaden.
Hope had never been kind to her, proving false all too often.
Please, not this time...
She reached the stairs that rose out of the cellars and hauled herself up the steps to the tower’s entry hall. As she did, she heard raised voices—sharp shouts and crisp orders—coming from outside.
She shifted to the tower’s exit, careful to stay hidden in the shadows. Outside, a group of soldiers—a dozen or so—headed through the gardens surrounding the theological school. The men wore combat gear and carried assault weapons. Someone in the lead pointed toward the Ringing Tower.
Seichan rolled out of view, a question foremost in her mind.
Why are they coming here?
Had whatever triggered the flooding sounded an alert, drawing the armed men? Or had Sigma’s group been exposed?
She expected it was the second explanation.
For the past half day, she had tamped down her paranoia about a mole in their midst. After the embassy attack, no one seemed aware that Sigma had traveled into Sergiyev Posad. Her suspicion of the two members of the Russian Orthodox Church—Yelagin and Anna—had dimmed. Likewise with Yuri, who had saved her life only hours ago.
As soldiers pounded across the cobbles toward the tower, she regretted such trust.
