The Power of Five Oblivion

men and carried into the building furthest away. He tried to follow her but suddenly the Frenchman who had spoken to him at the pyramids was at his side.
    “There is nothing you can do for her, Mr Cole. We have medical facilities here and she will be well cared for. We have been waiting a long time for you to arrive. You must come with me.”
    Mr Cole .
    We have been waiting a long time…
    The Frenchman knew his name. They had been waiting at the pyramids for the two of them to appear. None of it made any sense.
    Richard allowed himself to be escorted towards the main building, the one that stood between the other two. But before he was allowed to go in, a guard appeared and barked at him in Arabic. The guard was young, no more than nineteen. War had quickly turned him into an adult.
    “He wishes to search you before you can enter,” the Frenchman explained. “Your backpack … you are not permitted to carry weapons.”
    It was only now that Richard remembered the backpack that he had been wearing in Hong Kong and that was still strapped to his shoulders. It contained two precious objects. One was a diary, written in the sixteenth century by a Spanish monk, Joseph of Cordoba. It contained the only known history of the Old Ones and, Richard hoped, it might also hold a clue to how they could be defeated. The other object was indeed a weapon. It was a gold knife set with semi-precious stones that had been given to him by the Incas when he was in Peru. The knife was also known as a tumi and had once been used for sacrifices.
    Richard had no choice. He handed the backpack over and watched as the young soldier, bearded with blank eyes, rummaged through it.
    The soldier turned over his clothes. He found the book, took it out and glanced through it, then returned it without even looking at it. He unzipped the pockets and examined the insides. Then, with a cursory nod, he handed the backpack back to Richard. Once again, Richard found himself marvelling at what he knew had been nothing less than a display of Inca magic. The tumi had been in full sight of the soldier. He must have even pushed it aside as his hands burrowed into the pack. But he hadn’t noticed it was there. This was what the amauta , the Inca wise man, had told him. The knife was practically invisible. That was its power. Richard had even been able to carry it through airport security when he had flown into London. But the old man had added something else.
    “Do not thank me. One day you will curse me for giving it to you.”
    Richard often thought about that and wondered what he’d meant.
    At least having the knife meant that if these people were enemies and this turned out to be some sort of trap, he would be armed. Richard reflected on that as he followed the Frenchman inside. He found himself being led down a short corridor and into an empty classroom with a blackboard at one end, a few scattered desks and chairs and a view over the courtyard. Now that they were out of the sandstorm, the Frenchman had removed his face covering to reveal long grey hair, sunken cheeks and eyes that were full of trouble. He was about fifty and seemed somehow suited to the room. Perhaps he had been a teacher or lecturer once.
    “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I can arrange to have some food and water brought up.”
    “I’m fine,” Richard said. He had forgotten how long it had been since his last meal but he couldn’t sit down and eat until he had heard about Scarlett. “Where is Scarlett?” he asked.
    “There are doctors here. We have a full working hospital in the block next door. You are very lucky. There is a bullet lodged in her head and without them she would not have a chance.”
    “What is this place? And you used my name. How do you know who I am?”
    “I am sure you have a great many questions, Mr Cole. So, I must admit, do I. Perhaps it would help if you let me speak first. I will begin, if I may, with an observation. You have forgotten me but you and I have met before. It was in London, in a place called Farringdon.”
    “The Nexus…?”
    Richard certainly hadn’t forgotten the organization that had been helping them almost from the moment that he and Matt had met. The Nexus was made up of very important and influential people – police, politicians, churchmen, wealthy businessmen and women – who knew about the Old Ones and the threat they posed to the world and had come together to lead the fight against them. At the same time, they were