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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