David Morrell - The Brotherhood Of The Rose.txt

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The Brotherhood of the Rose [036-066-4.9]

By: David Morrell

Synopsis:

From the bestselling author of First Blood comes a riveting novel, an
astonishing story of fierce loyalty and violent betrayal, of murders
planned and coolly executed, of revenge bitterly, urgently desired.
"Impossible to put it down."

Fawcett Crest Books by David Morrell

FIRST BLOOD

BLOOD OATH

The Brotherhood of the Rose

A Fawcett Crest Book Published by Ballantine Books

Copyright (C) 1984 by
David Morrell

All rights reserved under International and
Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or
reviews.

Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, a
division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by
Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 83-21324

ISBN 0-449-20661-0

This edition published by arrangement with St.
Martin's/Marek

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Ballantine Books Edition: February 1985

for Donna The years go faster, my love grows stronger.

Contents

Prologue: THE ABELARD SANCTION

Refuge

Safe Houses/Ground Rules

Book One: SANCTUARY

A Man of Habit

Church of the Moon

Book Two: SEARCH AND DESTROY

"My Black Princes"

Castor and Pollux
Book Three: BETRAYAL

The Formal Education of an Operative

Nemesis

Book Four: RETRIBUTION

Furies

Rest Homes/Going to Ground

Epilogue: THE SANCTION'S AFTERMATH

Abelard and Heloise

Under the Rose



Redemption

Teach them politics and war so
their sons may study medicine and mathematics in order to give their
children a right to study painting, poetry, music, and architecture.

-John Adams

Prologue THE ' ABELARD SANCTION

REFUGE

Paris. September 1118.

Peter Abelard, handsome canon of the church of Notre Dame, seduced his
attractive student, Heloise. Fulbert, her uncle, enraged by her
pregnancy, craved revenge. In the early hours of a Sunday morning, three
assassins hired by Fulbert attacked Abelard on his way to mass,
castrated him, and left him to die from his wounds. He lived but,
fearing further reprisals, sought protection. First, he ran to the
monastery of Saint Denis near Paris. There, while recovering from his
injuries, he learned that political elements desperate for Fulbert's
approval were conspiring once more against him. For a second time, he
took flight-to Quincey, near Nogent, where he founded a safe house that
he named "The Paraclete," the Comforter, in honor of the Holy Ghost.

And finally found sanctuary.

SAFE HOUSES/ GROUND RULES Paris. September 1938.

On Sunday, the twenty-eighth, 8douard Daladier, minister of defense for
France, broadcast the following radio announcement to the French people:
Early this afternoon I received an invitation from the German government
to meet with Chancellor Hitler, Mr. Mussolini, and Mr. Neville
Chamberlain in Munich. I have accepted the invitation.

The next afternoon, while the Munich meeting was taking place, a
pharmacist in the service of the Gestapo recorded in his logbook that
the last of the five black 1938 Mercedes had passed the checkpoint at
his corner drugstore and had arrived before the innocuous-looking stone
facade of 36 Bergener Strasse in Berlin. In each case, a powerfully
built plainclothed driver stepped out of the car, surveyed the
pedestrians on the busy street without seeming to do so, and opened a
passenger door from which the only occupant, a well-dressed elderly man,
emerged. As soon as the driver had escorted his passenger safely through
the thick wooden door of the three-story residence, he proceeded to a
warehouse three blocks away to wait for further instructions.

The last gentleman to arrive left his hat and overcoat with a sentry
behind an enclosed metal desk in an alcove to the right of the door. For
reasons of tact, he wasn't searched, but he was asked to surrender his
briefcase. He wouldn't need it, after all. No notes would be permitted.

The sentry examined the man's credentials, then pushed a button beside
the Luger beneath his desk. At once, a second Gestapo agent appeared
from an office behind the visitor to escort him to a room at the end of
the hall - The visitor entered. Remaining behind, the agent shut the
door.

The visitor's name was John "Tex" Anton. He was fifty-five, tall,
ruggedly handsome, with a salt-and-pepper mustache. Prepared for the
business at hand, he sat in the one remaining empty captain's chair and
nodded to the four men who'd arrived before him. He did not need to be
introduced; he knew them already. Their names were Wilhelm Smeltzer,
Anton Girard, Percival Landish, and Vladimir Lazensokov. They were the
directors of espionage for Germany, France, England, and the Soviet
Union. Anton himself represented America's State Department.

Except for the captain's chairs and the ashtray beneath each of them,
the room was totally barren. No other furniture, no paintings, no
bookshelves, no drapes, no rug, no chandelier. The starkness of the room
had been arranged by Smeltzer to assure these men that no microphones
had been hidden. "Gentlemen," Smeltzer said, "the adjacent rooms are
empty."

"Munich," Landish said.

Smeltzer laughed. "For an Englishman, you come to the point abruptly."

"Why do you laugh?" Girard asked Smeltzer. "We all know that at this
moment Hitter is demanding that my country and England no longer
guarantee the protection of Czechoslovakia, Poland, and Austria." He
spoke English for the benefit of the American.

Avoiding the question, Smeltzer lit a cigarette. "Does Hitler intend to
invade Czechoslovakia?" Lazensokov asked.

Smeltzer shrugged, exhaling smoke. "I've asked you here so that, as
members of the same professional community, we can prepare for any
contingency."

Tex Anton frowned. Smeltzer continued. "We don't respect each other's
ideologies, but in one way we're all alike. We enjoy the complexities of
our profession. they nodded. "You have a new complication to propose?"
the Russian asked. "Why don't you boys say what the hell you're
thinkin'?" Tex Auton drawled.

The others chuckled. "Directness would ruin half the enjoyment," Girard
told Anton. He turned to Smeltzer, waiting. "No matter what the outcome
of the impending war," Smeltzer said, "we must guarantee to each other
that our representatives will have the opportunity for protection."

"Impossible," the Russian said. "What kind of protection?" the Frenchman
asked. "Do you mean money?" the Texan added. "Unstable. It has to be
gold or diamonds," the Englishman said.

The German nodded. "And more precisely, secure places in which to keep
them. The proven banks in Geneva, Lisbon, and Mexico City, for example."

"Gold." The Russian sneered. "And what do you propose we do with this
capitalist commodity?"

"Establish a system of safe houses," Smeltzer replied.. "But what's so
new about that? We already have 'em," Tex Auton said.

The others ignored him. "And rest homes as well, I presume?" Girard told
Smeltzer. "I take that for granted," the German said. "For the benefit
of my American friend, let me explain. Each of our networks already has
its own safe houses, that is true. Secure locations where its operatives
can go for protection, say, or debriefing or to interrogate an informer.
But while each network tries to keep these locations a secret,
eventually the other networks find out where they are, so the places
aren't truly safe. Though armed men guard them, a larger opposing force
could seize any house and kill whoever had sought protection there."

Tex Auton shrugged. "The risk is unavoidable."

"I wonder," the German continued. "What I propose is something new-an
extension of the concept, a refinement of it. Under extreme
circumstances, any operative from any of our networks would be given a
chance for asylum in carefully chosen cities around the 'world. I
suggest Buenos Aires, Potsdam, Lisbon, and Oslo. We all have business
there."

"Alexandria," the Englishman suggested. "That's acceptable."

"Montreal," the Frenchman said. "If the war doesn't turn out to my
benefit, I might be living there."

"Now wait a minute," Tex Auton said. "Do you expect me to believe that,
if a war is going' on, one of your boys, won't kill one of my boys in
these places?"

"As long as the opposing operatives remain inside," the German said. "in
our profession, we all know the dangers and the pressures. I'll admit
that even Germans sometimes need to rest."

"And calm the nerves and heal the wounds," the Frenchman said. "We owe
it to ourselves," the Englishman said. "And if an operative wants to
retire from his network completely, he'd have the chance to go from a
safe house to a rest home and enjoy the same immunity for the rest of
his life. With a portion of the gold or the diamonds as a retirement
fund."

"As a reward for faithful service," the German said. "And an enticement
to new recruits."

"If events proceed as I foresee," the Frenchman said, "we may all need
enticements . "And if events proceed as I expect," the German said,
"I'll have all the enticements I need. Nonetheless I'm a prudent man.
Are we all agreed?"

"What guarantees do we have that our men won't be killed in these safe
houses?" the Englishman said. "The word of fellow professionals."

"And the penalties?"

"Absolute."

"Agreed," the Englishman said.

The American and the Russian were silent. "Do I sense reluctance from
our newer nations?" the German said. "I agree in principle,...
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