The Thieves of Darkness by Richard Doetsch Page B

world, where Europe and Asia come together both literally and figuratively. Since ancient times, whether known as New Rome, the Eastern Roman Empire, Byzantium, or Constantinople, it had been the capital of some of history’s greatest kingdoms: Roman, Latin, Byzantine, Ottoman. No other city in the world could claim such a rich, diverse heritage. It had always been the axis of a vibrant culture. It was a world where all met and traded goods, philosophies, women, slaves, and religions; a world where Christian, Muslim, and Jew lived side by side, coexisting long before modern society needed to be preached politically correct tolerance; a world of beauty filled with breathtaking architecture, both ancient and new; a land filled with mystery and intrigue, fortune and glory. It was cosmopolitan and traditional, vibrant and sedate. It was truly a land where East met West, yet, of late, it had played second and third string in global politics, facing extreme opposition when it tried to enter the European Union.
    Some of history’s greatest houses of worship were within the city’s confines: mosques of unequaled beauty, their towering minarets scratching the sky; cathedrals of impossible grace; breathtaking synagogues of old; palaces whose massive fortifications and elegance had not diminished over centuries.
    T HE B OEING B USINESS Jet taxied down the service tarmac of Ataturk Airport, finally coming to a rest in the private plane terminal. Michael, Busch, Simon, and KC walked down the plane’s stairs and out into the early-morning light, taking a breath, stretching their legs, letting the sun beat down upon their faces.
    A young woman exited the private terminal, pulling a Louis Vuitton roller-luggage behind her, and walked across the tarmac toward the jet. Her hair was auburn, pulled back in a severe bun. She wore a white Chanel business suit and Manolo Blahnik pumps, and looked like a child playing dress-up. There was no question that she was a beautiful girl, she just didn’t look old enough to be a customs official.
    KC finally caught the eye of the young woman. She halted a moment as her breath caught in her chest, a swirl of emotions running across her face. And then the two women made a beeline for each other, quickly arriving in each other’s arms. As they hugged, you could see the relief pour from their bodies.
    “What are you doing here?” KC asked, holding her sister tight.
    “It’s a four-hour flight, how could I stay away?”
    “I told you not to come.”
    “I know.”
    KC pulled back and looked into her eyes. “But I’m glad you ignored me as usual.”
    The two women finally turned and walked toward Michael.
    “Michael, Simon, Paul,” KC said. “This is my sister, Cindy.”
    Michael held out his hand and shook hers. “It’s a pleasure.”
    Cindy looked at Michael. A broad smile creased her face. “I’m not sure what to say. I’ve never met one of KC’s boyfriends.”
    Michael uncomfortably smiled and nodded.
    “I’m Simon,” the priest said in his slight Italian accent as he took her hand. “I’ve heard much about you.”
    Cindy nodded.
    Michael turned his head toward Busch. “This is Paul Busch.”
    Cindy took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
    “Likewise.” Busch smiled as he towered over the woman, gently holding her hand in his.
    Cindy was several inches shorter than KC and her eyes were dark blue, but there was no questioning the overall resemblance. Michael realized that while they might look somewhat alike, they were completely different. KC was tall and lithe, her personality alive and direct. Cindywas refined, cultured. It was as if they had grown up in two different worlds.
    Cindy took KC’s arm as they walked toward the private air terminal. Michael, Simon, and Busch looked at each other, remaining in place.
    KC turned back. “You said the plane needs to go to maintenance before you can fly out, that’s what you said.”
    “Yeah, I said that.” Michael