PROLOGUE

 

The night was clear and cold. High in the sky the stars twinkled and the moon cast its insipid white light upon the Earth. The temperature had fallen well below zero, ensuring that only those whose journey was an absolute necessity travelled this night.

Three men, seemingly impervious to the cold, approached an impressive office block. In silence, they approached the glass doors fronting the building. Although the entrance was locked, the man leading the trio opened the door with apparent ease. The other two followed their leader into the carpeted reception area. A bored-looking security guard sat behind a desk, reading a magazine.

He didn’t look up as the men filed past him, seemed totally unaware of their presence. The men approached the lift, and having entered it, took it to the executive suite.

The lift whined quietly as it carried them past countless floors, before drawing smoothly to a halt and opening its doors.

With the same assurance which they had manifested from the time they had entered the building, the men left the lift. They looked around them, seeing two passages leading off to the left and right.

A second security guard wandered in their direction from the corridor to their right, seemingly more alert than his colleague on the ground floor. He glanced suspiciously at the lift as its doors closed. He looked around to the passage leading to the left. His suspicions obviously aroused, he made his way to a desk opposite the lift and reached for the telephone.

“No,” the leader of the trio hissed sharply: “sleep.”

The guard wavered on his feet and then crumpled to the floor. The leader motioned to his colleagues. Silently, they interpreted his gesture. They moved forward to the now deeply-sleeping guard and lifted him into a chair situated behind the desk.

“Which way?” queried one, softly.

The leader indicated the corridor from which the guard had emerged. Their direction decided, they resumed their journey until, at the end of the corridor, they reached a door.

Opening this, they entered a large office with another door leading off it. As they crossed the office and approached this second door, the murmur of muted voices could be heard. The leader raised his hand in a warning gesture. Softly, he hissed, “let us listen for a while, before announcing ourselves.”

The other two nodded understanding. Listening carefully, they managed to overhear what was being said in the next room.

“....and so he was able to manipulate Congress into granting the concession which we needed. But this has brought another problem to my attention. The Mafia families are becoming interested in this particular operation. I expect them to attempt a take-over with their usual directness. I have ensured, however, that they will be sorry they ever considered the attempt. We have had problems with them before, but each time, they learn that attempting to move in on us is not possible — and may be fatal. Unless you have any further questions, or require clarification on this matter, Superior Brother, I have nothing else to report.”

“Your report is satisfactory, Brother,” replied a voice with a strong American accent. It continued, “Brother Andrew, what do you have to report to this preliminary gathering?”

There was a pause, presumably whilst the person in question stood. Then a voice with a distinctly Irish accent spoke. “All goes well. I have finalised details with the I.R.A., and we will begin selling shipments of arms and explosives within the next few months. As previously, I urge that I be allowed to proceed at my own pace. The F.B.I. and C.I.A. will be quick to pick up on any loose end. An operation of this magnitude demands caution and meticulous planning, and that takes time. If we proceed carefully we will reap massive benefits. The I.R.A. have contacts in many countries, and we may well be able to utilise them once we have demonstrated that we can deliver what we have promised.”

There was another silence whilst this speech was digested. The Superior Brother’s voice became audible again, although it had dropped considerably in volume. “I agree, Brother. Take your time — but be sure that you achieve results.”

“I will, Superior Brother,” the Irish voice replied firmly.

The three men grinned at each other. The leader smiled a frigid smile at his two companions; they smiled in return. After six months in America, they felt as though they were coming home.

The leader returned his attention to the voices issuing from behind the door. Apparently, all business of importance had been discussed, and the Superior Brother was speaking.

“It appears that all is well. This same information must be related before all Brothers at our next General meeting, as usual. Before I dissolve this preliminary meeting, as is customary, I ask for any ideas from you all for schemes or anything else which might further our objectives. Anything at all?”

Silence descended. Outside, the three grinned at each other, remembering how similar requests had occasioned just such responses, in days past. The Superior Brother’s voice resumed, “No one?” Then, in a more impatient tone, he continued, “Well, in that case, I suggest that you think about your resp....” his voice trailed off, suggesting that his tirade had been interrupted.

“It seems that one person, at least, wishes to present an idea to us. Be good enough to give us your thoughts, Sister.”

The leader of the three men made a strangled sound in his throat. He turned furious eyes upon his companions. “Did I hear correctly?” be demanded in a whisper.

Cautiously, his two companions nodded confirmation.

The leader frowned and straightened up. His eyes seemed almost to be ice within their sockets. From within the room, a woman’s voice could be heard.

“.....and so, it is known to us that the Defence Secretary has certain erm... unusual sexual preferences. All I suggest is that it would be relatively simple for us to exploit the knowledge. Some photographs, blackmail, and we could get hold of very sensitive information from his Department.”

For a few seconds there was silence whilst what she had said was considered.

“Sister Margaret, thank you for the idea. It has lots of potential. I will give some thought to how best to pursue this matter. Would you be willing to undertake this mission yourself, sometime in the future?”

“I would, Superior Brother,” she replied.

“Are there any other ideas? Any final matters needing attention?” the Superior Brother queried.

Behind the door, fury radiated from the man with ice-cold eyes. His two companions, recognising the danger signals, exchanged wary glances, each silently warning the other not to get in their leader’s way.

“I think,” their leader snapped in a frigid whisper, “that that was our cue.”

Suiting action to word, he motioned towards the door which burst open with a bang, as though violently assaulted, making all within the room jump.

The leader strode in, closely followed by his associates. A long table dominated the conference room which they had entered. Seated around it were approximately thirty people, of whom seven were women. Several had risen to their feet in consternation at the nature of the interruption.

However, the man at the head of the table remained seated, although he glared darkly at the trio. “How did you get in here? How did you get past security? This is a private Board meeting.”

The leader of the trio turned his eyes upon the man, who fell silent.

“I will answer your questions,” he rasped. “Firstly, through the outer door. Secondly, security didn’t see us. Wouldn’t you say that this is a rather unorthodox Board meeting?”

The man at the head of the table pondered this statement silently. “So,” he said, finally, “a visit from the Mafia. Well, you can tell your superiors this. . .”

“Not the Mafia,” replied the leader of the trio, his expression becoming more dangerous as he attempted to bite down his rage at the presence of women.

“Then...” said the Superior Brother, and quickly pointed directly at the man who opposed him. A burst of orange light exploded in the intruders’ direction. As it reached them, it dissolved. The Superior Brother opened his mouth in surprise. What had just happened was impossible.

“Kill them quickly,” hissed a sharp female voice.

“You may find that easier said than done,” replied the icy voice of the intruder. His colleagues said nothing, simply stood alert for any signal which their leader might give.

The Superior Brother stood slowly. “What do you want?” be demanded. The other smiled his frigid smile. “Everything and nothing. Your deaths — or your lives,” he replied enigmatically.

However, what he said struck a chord with the Superior Brother. Eyes narrowing, he considered his options. He resumed his seat. His colleagues followed his lead.

“You are the Superior Brother, I take it?”

Involuntarily, his eyes jerked to those of his interrogator. “I don’t know what you are talking about, and I’m calling security.”

“No, you will do no such thing.”

As the man reached out to pick up a phone, the icy eyes which glared at him seemed to intensify. Abruptly, the Superior Brother pulled his hand away from the phone, sweat breaking out upon his forehead. A mutter of fear and surprise ran along the table, yet none attempted to interfere.

“Who are you?” Superior Brother demanded.

“That should, perhaps, have been your first question,” the man replied. Then, slowly, with heavy emphasis upon each word, he said, “I am the Supreme Brother.”

The statement was greeted with astonished silence. Supreme Brother continued, “and these,” he indicated the two men just behind him, “are Brothers Richard and Jerome.”

“But,” Superior Brother spluttered, realising that his actions had constituted sedition, “we were given no warning...”

“Your manners are somewhat lax, Brother,” Supreme Brother cut in. “Do you think that you could find seats for us — and remember that I do outrank you?” he added with heavy sarcasm.

Superior Brother needed no reminding that Supreme Brother did, indeed, outrank him. The sarcasm was not lost on him either, and he began to feel intimidated.

“Supreme Brother, please, take my place; make room there for Supreme Brother’s companions,” he added, indicating the chairs nearest to his own.

Sitting in the comfortable leather chair, Supreme Brother motioned to his companions, inviting them to sit on either side of him. One of the assembly, at a motion from the Superior Brother, took their coats.

Supreme Brother glanced around the table. “As I recall, the position of Superior Brother within the US was created because it was not feasible for the Supreme Brother to devote his full attention to both organisations at the same time.”

“That is correct, Supreme Brother,” Superior Brother muttered, uneasily.

Supreme Brother smiled slightly, knowing that he had made his point.

“You will all be wondering about my unprecedented appearance here. There is no way to relate what I have to say except by being direct about it.

“I am here to inform you of a most tragic and devastating piece of intelligence. The British Brotherhood has been destroyed.”

“But how?” questioned one of the assembled women, incredulously.

Supreme Brother frowned at the reminder that things here were done differently. He pondered the wisdom of making alterations, but decided that for the present, at least, he could live with things as they were.

The woman — Sister Barbara — misunderstood the cause of the frown, and blushed. “I beg your forgiveness, Supreme Brother.”

The courtesy of the apology diminished his irritation slightly. “We were attempting the eradication of the Baron lineage once and for all. As you all may know, Brother James came here about eight months ago attempting to trace any relatives of Scott Hobard, the so-called ‘lastÌ“ of the American Barons. James succeeded. We found that there were just three descendants of Anton Baron alive in the world, and all were located at the same place. They were protected by a formidable occultist named George Hayter, one of Anton’s descendants.

“Eventually, we kidnapped one of them, Margaret Hunter, and tortured her in an attempt to gain information about Hayter. Finally, fearing that she might die, we summoned our Patrons and commanded them to destroy the last of Baron’s descendants.”

As he fell silent, Supreme Brother could feel the tension which his recitation had generated. Each person within the room wanted to hear the conclusion, yet none dared to ask him to continue — except one.

“Supreme Brother,” Sister Margaret said quietly, “please finish what you have to tell us. If, as you say, our British colleagues have truly been destroyed, then I for one claim vengeance. Blood for blood. Life for life.”

Supreme Brother’s face darkened as he looked upon the face of the woman who, earlier, had advised that they be killed quickly. But, as she continued, her words brought an intense, burning gaze into his eyes.

“Your desire for vengeance is to your credit, er...Sister,” he stated, feeling unusual using that particular form of address. After a moment’s thought, he continued.

“All seemed to be going to plan,” he resumed. “We were about to sacrifice Margaret Hunter when she became protected.

“We killed George Hayter, but we had not counted on a physical resurrection by Anton Baron himself. Our occult powers were ineffectual against him. He possessed the three Barons — even though one of them was dead — and began the destruction of our Brotherhood.

“I was able to relocate myself and these two Brothers here away to safety. All our Brothers were assembled in the crypt of a ruined church. Anton Baron caused an earthquake. All of our — and your — Brothers were crushed.”

“Supreme Brother, I too demand vengeance, but how may we be avenged upon one already dead?” Superior Brother wanted to know.

“By rebuilding the British Society. By eradicating the Baron line, as all here are sworn to do. These are my reasons for being here, and you will assist us in achieving that. All other considerations are secondary.”

The Superior Brother took a deep breath. “The Brothers and Sisters you see here represent the equivalent of your Third Circle. To rebuild on the scale which you imply will take time, effort, and ingenuity. I think, Supreme Brother, that we should begin immediate discussions about how this rebuilding might best be achieved. All here will have suggestions to offer, I am certain.”

The cold face with the icy eyes regarded the people sitting around the table. The Supreme Brother smiled. “Though it take years, we will succeed. And then, Tony Baron, Margaret Hunter and John Brandon will suffer all the agonies of the damned before they die.”

 

Chapter One: Deliberations

 

The five men sat in casual chairs sipping coffee. Their discussion was intense, yet somehow muted, as though all were depressed by the enormity of their task. Dominating these discussions were two men who radiated authority. It was obvious that these two were used to giving orders, and to having those orders obeyed promptly, without question.

When either of these two spoke, the others listened in obedient silence, before making comments or suggestions.

It was six months since the Supreme Brother had interrupted a meeting of the hierarchy of the American Brotherhood. In those six months, both the American organisation and the Supreme Brother had undergone subtle but unmistakable changes.

Initially, the news that the Supreme Brother and two of his companions had flown to America and taken charge of the American Brotherhood had caused both consternation and anger among members of that organisation.

The general consensus of opinion was that, although — in theory —  they recognised Supreme Brother’s overall leadership, the Brothers saw this intrusion as a usurpation of their own leader — Superior Brother — and of his position.

Indeed, before the news of the destruction of the British branch of the Brotherhood had been made general knowledge, several Brothers had considered the possibility of assassinating the Supreme Brother — although they would have found that task easier to consider than to achieve.

Expecting this response, the Supreme Brother had acted to conciliate even the most disgruntled of the American Brothers. He had confirmed Superior Brother in his position as leader of the Brotherhood in America, and at the same time made it plain that he had no intention of remaining longer in the States than he had to. Furthermore, he had refrained from issuing any direct orders; rather he had made requests of the Superior Brother regarding the things he wished achieved.

The Superior Brother, understanding that he didn’t want to antagonise the Supreme Brother, and that the more quickly he acceded to these requests the sooner his troublesome guests would leave, gave every assistance. He realised that Supreme Brother’s last intent was to cause a division among the Brothers, and he appreciated the tact and diplomacy which Supreme Brother had displayed, especially when technically, at least, all Brothers owed loyalty to Supreme Brother before anyone else.

These considerations had, in fact, drawn the two leaders together, and each was mildly surprised when they realised that they could work together without either feeling in any way threatened. Their mutual respect had added another dimension, and the two had become friends. It was an unusual scenario for each of them, since along with the mantle of leadership came an obligation to avoid such friendships, lest they ultimately undermine the leader’s position.

But since, in practice, neither would be under the authority of the other — under normal circumstances — each had allowed the friendship to intensify to an extent which could never otherwise have occurred.

Supreme Brother had explained personally to the entire American assembly exactly what had transpired in Britain, and why he had suddenly appeared in America. As he recounted events, a sense of outrage more violent than Supreme Brother had ever experienced exploded from the Brothers. The Brotherhood were united in their response. They called for the deaths of the perpetrators of this atrocity, and demanded that Superior Brother give every possible aid to the Supreme Brother in this endeavour.

Supreme Brother’s eyes had become icy at this response, but with rapture. He had smiled to himself as he caught sight of Superior Brother’s face. He was stunned. It demonstrated to Supreme Brother more than anything else could have that his American counterpart was as unused to receiving demands from his Brothers as he himself was.

This statement, coupled with the conciliatory gestures which he had already decided upon, had had the desired effect.

No longer was Supreme Brother regarded as a potential usurper, but their overall leader who had been almost overwhelmed by forces beyond his (or anyone else’s) control. Their overall leader who needed help to fulfil the basic tenet of their Brotherhood; the eradication of the Baron line. Supreme Brother was hailed as a hero that he had come so close to killing Margaret Hunter, and fulfilling their Curse.

Most of the Brothers had suggestions to make about how the Supreme Brother might continue. Each was discussed; Supreme Brother hid his impatience with those suggestions which were plainly impractical, or a patent waste of time. He realised that, if he so wished, he could easily have ousted Superior Brother and taken control of the American Brotherhood, but his sense of caution dissuaded him. If, once he returned to Britain, he needed the aid of the American Branch of the Brotherhood, he sensed it would be to his benefit to have acted cautiously, to have made allies, and not enemies.

He had enhanced his sudden popularity by listening to all suggestions, never shouting down or ridiculing any Brother — or Sister — who had anything to offer, but by appearing to consider everything, and thanking each individual for their thoughts.

Brothers Jerome and Richard had been surprised by Supreme Brother’s duplicity, by the tact which he put up so convincingly that all — with them excepted — thought of Supreme Brother as thoughtful and considerate.

However, in private, Supreme Brother remained the same as ever, aloof, evil, dangerous. He took Jerome and Richard fully into his confidence, explaining exactly what he intended, and how he intended to manipulate the American Brothers into giving their aid freely.

Throughout the time that they remained in America, only those two Brothers fully understood exactly what Supreme Brother was doing and his reasons for doing it. They, in turn, passed on all news from the body of the Brotherhood which Supreme Brother might find of interest. They had taken to attending meetings and mixing with the assembled Brothers, as though they considered themselves subject to Superior Brother, when, in fact, they revelled in the fact that they were loyal to Supreme Brother alone, and could demonstrate this loyalty by spying for him at every opportunity.

Each evening, they discussed what progress they had made, how things could be manipulated more quickly to achieve the desired end. On one point Supreme Brother was adamant. It would be he, with the rebuilt British Brotherhood who would exact the final revenge for the destruction of so many Brothers. The Superior Brother had suggested that his branch of the Brotherhood could take over the pursuit of the Curse whilst Supreme Brother rebuilt the British Society.

Supreme Brother’s eyes had become dark and dangerous at that suggestion, a fact not entirely unnoticed by Superior Brother, who had retreated from following up this suggestion.

“No,” Supreme Brother had rasped. “The insult was to me and the British Brotherhood. Whilst you are right that either organisation could fulfil the Curse, I cannot and will not allow it. The insult was to me. The repayment shall be made by me and my rebuilt Society. I swear it.”