A crowd gathered around the door, keeping together despite the size of the vault. The seed bank itself was unremarkable, just a cavernous room full of numbered shelves. Identical black storage bins filled the racks, like a warehouse club that sold only one item.

Someone in the group was counting down loudly.

"Eleven...ten...nine..."

Painter had barely made it back in time. After breaking the air lock seal, he prayed the pressure had a chance to rebuild in time. Their best chance to survive the coming blast was to fight pressure with pressure.

If the air lock didn't hold, they'd all be crushed.

"Eight...seven...six..."

Karlsen pushed through to join Painter. His eyes were wide. "Krista's not here," he said, as if Painter knew what that meant.

Someone else did. "Krista...Krista Magnussen? Jason's girlfriend?"

Anger flashed in Senator Gorman's voice.

Painter shoved the two men apart. "Later."

First, they had to survive.

The countdown continued.

"Five...four...three..."

Chapter 21

October 13, 12:32 P.M.

Bardsey Island, Wales

As Gray prepared to descend into the crypt, the true heart of the storm rolled over Bardsey Island. It was as if the gods themselves warned against violating the tomb.

With a crack of thunder, the skies opened up. Rain poured down in large drops that shattered like bombs upon gravestones and markers. To the north, lightning crackled in forking chains.

"I'll go first," Gray said between thunderclaps.

The boy Lyle had run to the nearby chapel house to fetch a rope. But with the rain falling so hard, Gray feared the tomb could flood before any of them had a chance to search it.

The crypt's opening was a hole in the ground about two feet wide, barely enough room for one person to climb through. It dropped seven feet to a stone floor. Below, it was wider, maybe twice as large as the opening. He couldn't see more without going down.

Grabbing the sides, Gray lowered himself into the hole. He used his legs to brace himself, then dropped the rest of the way down. He landed in a crouch and freed his flashlight.

He stared up at the others' faces.

"Be careful," Rachel said.

"Let me know what you see," Wallace added.

Both Kowalski and Seichan hung farther back.

Gray clicked on his flashlight and searched the main shaft. The sides were natural rock archways that framed brick walls, slightly inset. He imagined coffins and moldering bones behind those bricks. And perhaps one of those bodies was Lord Newborough's.

As rain sluiced down the walls, Gray took the time to examine each surface. He ran his hands over them, searching for loose stones, some indication that Father Giovanni had been here and discovered something.

"Well?" Wallace called down.

"Nothing."

Rachel pulled away, but her voice reached him. "Lyle's coming back with the rope."

Gray turned his attention to the fourth wall. Here the bricks framed a low archway, barely taller than midthigh. Crouching, Gray shone his light down into it. The space was plainly meant to hold a coffin. Afterward, the archway would have been walled up like the others. But currently the niche was empty.

He knew the hole had to be important. This wall faced the ruins of the abbey's tower. Dropping to his hands and knees in the pooled water, Gray crawled into the niche. It was deep. Beyond the opening, the bricks disappeared and solid rock surrounded him. Gray worked slowly to the back of the tomb.

He patted the sides, ran his palms over the surfaces.

Nothing.

Though frustrated, he remained confident. Whatever was hidden had to lie beneath the ruins of Saint Mary's. But maybe he was wrong about the access point. Maybe it wasn't this crypt. Father Giovanni could have searched it upon Lyle's suggestion-just as Gray was doing-then moved on.

He heard a splash behind him as someone joined him in the crypt.

He retreated and climbed out of the niche. Rachel stood there. Her hair clung wetly to her face. Her eyes glowed under the shine of his flashlight, full of hope. He could not fail her.

"Dead end?" she aked.

He grimaced, not appreciating her choice of words, nor happy with his lack of success. "I don't see any sign that Father Giovanni has been down here."

"Can I try?" she asked and held out her hand for his flashlight.

How could he refuse?

He passed her the light. She crouched on one hand and sidled into the empty tomb. Her lithe physique allowed her more maneuverability in the tight space. Her flashlight swept along the walls.

"See anything?" he asked.