Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 34: The Chapel

Wescott's estimate of a few weeks turned into more than a month of captivity for Reine. After the motorboat took her to a large yacht anchored in the middle of Lake Geneva, she spent long days in the company of just the crew, the Russian enforcer, and Dr. Giorgio Katsopolous. Wescott was a generous host in terms of food and atmosphere; many people would have paid handsomely for such luxury. But one thing he wasn't willing to provide before it suited him was Reine's freedom.

When the time finally did come, it was with little warning. The only indicator of impending change was the physician leaving the vessel a day earlier. It was early October when a private jet finally also took Reine back to London. She couldn't even imagine what her friends had been going through during her disappearance. Did Wescott tell them he was keeping her away? Or were they left guessing her fate?

Ushered into a waiting Rolls Royce, she begged the chauffer to drive directly to her Kensington townhome. In lieu of a reply, he just raised the privacy screen between the two compartments. After weaving through the city's traffic, the car finally stopped in front of the Palace of Westminster where the driver let Reine out onto the crowded sidewalk. He handed her a folded note before tipping his hat and speeding off.

Flipping the heavy cardstock open, she silently read the single line within: Chapel of St. Mary Undercroft.

What did this mean? Was Wescott instructing her to find this place? What was waiting there, and why should she even obey his wishes?

Baffled by the vague message, Reine looked up at the building in front of her. Gothic spires stretched overhead, and the afternoon sun reflected off the yellow, sandstone blocks to create an intricate pattern of shadows in the carved embellishments. With the summer tourist season over, few passersby were actually headed into the building. A lone policeman idled next to the public entrance of Parliament, but before Reine could approach him for directions, a loud noise diverted her attention back toward the street.

The roar of a powerful engine became increasingly louder, soon revealing a red motorcycle approaching at breakneck speed. It zig-zagged between cars, popping a wheelie as soon as the traffic was clear enough. Cutting in front of a sedan, the driver downshifted to slow the machine before hopping the curb a few feet away. Rolling to a stop next to the building, he cut the engine and disembarked.

"Hey! You can't park there," said the officer as he left his post, rushing past Reine to stop the misconduct.

Ignoring the warning, the rider removed his helmet and placed it on the seat. Digging into his back pocket, the lanky young man with a disheveled mop of blonde hair pulled out his wallet and flipped it open in front of the policeman.

"My apologies, sir. Enjoy your visit to Westminster," the officer said as he stepped aside after inspecting the document.

Gabe nodded and looking past the uniformed man, finally noticed Reine standing by the entryway. Closing the gap with a few long strides, he embraced her in a tight hug. "Oh my God. You're back." His voice was full of relief as he buried his face in her hair.

She also wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, reluctant to let go. When he made to pull away, she only allowed him a few inches. In spite of how they last parted, she was happy to see him.

Reaching up and cupping her face in one hand, he continued. "Are you all right? We've been looking everywhere for you."

Reine nodded. "I'm okay. Max?" she asked. He'd been on her mind constantly, and she was anxious to get any news about him.

"He'll be here soon. Come," Gabe said as he grabbed her hand, but Reine refused to move.

"Wait." She unfolded Wescott's note and lifted it for him to see. "I think I'm supposed to go here."