The Bluthund Collection Volume II Three BreathtakingThrillers: The Bluthund Collection, #2

By Cèdric Daurio

The Bluthund Community is an informal hermetic group formed on social networks. It brings together researchers from the most diverse disciplines, who collaborate in the resolution of difficult-to-manage cases. They have research methods that come from both the positive sciences and alternative knowledge, based on traditional wisdom, in arcana of different cultures.

                               

The Volume II of the Bluthund Collection is an anthology that includes three psychological and historical thrillers written by Cedric Daurio sharing, albeit partially, their characters. The three books are separate pieces and can be read in any order, although the author prefers the one given in this book.

The following books are included in this Volume.

 

The Eagle´s Nest

The Lost Legion

The Japanese Pianist

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cedric Daurio
• Release date: May 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393277446

Cèdric Daurio

Cedric Daurio es el seudónimo adoptado por un novelista argentino para cierto tipo de narrativa, en general thrillers paranormales y cuentos con contenidos esotéricos. El autor ha vivido en Nueva York durante años y ahora reside en Buenos Aires, su ciudad natal. Su estilo es despojado, claro y directo, y no vacila en abordar temas espinosos. Cedric Daurio is the pseudonym adopted by an Argentine novelist for a certain type of narrative, in general paranormal thrillers and stories with esoteric content. The author has lived in New York for years and now resides in Buenos Aires, his hometown. His style is stripped, clear and direct, and does not hesitate to address thorny issues.  

Book preview

The Eagle's Nest

Dramatis personæ

Hasan i Sabbah: Founder of the Nizari sect.

Rashid al-Din Sinan: The first Old Man of the Mountain.

Hassan Jur Sha: Sole survivor of the Nizari sect.

Hulagu Kan: Grandson of Genghis Khan, destroyer of Alamut and of the Nizari sect.

Hassan Ali Sha: Known as Aga Khan.

Colonel William Blake Parker: Commander of a Bengal Lancers regiment in colonial India.

Basil Hawthorne: Alleged English traveler, journalist, and author.

Jack Berglund: Member of the Bluthund Community, specialist in ancient alphabets.

Lakshmi Dhawan: Woman born in India, member of the FBI.

Anila Ragnarsson: daughter of Lakshmi and Ingo Ragnarsson, Icelandic academic.

Keneisha Sullivan: Director at the FBI, Lakshmi Boss

Kadar Al ash Sheik: Wahhabi religious leader, born in Saudi Arabia. Descendant of Muhammad ibn al Wahhab, founder of the Wahabite sect.

Paddy O'Keefe: Captain of the New York Police Department.

Rory Flanagan: New York Police Commissioner.

Jefferson Clark: FBI Division Director.

Admiral B.C. Donnelly: Advisor to the State Department.

Dr.W.Richardson: Master of the Bluthund Community in New York.

Jerome Watkins: Master of Ceremonies at Bluthund events.

Madame Nadia Swarowska: Member of the Bluthund Management Committee

Suzuki Taro: Member of the Bluthund Management Committee.

Corrado Gherardi: former Jesuit priest who specializes in the history of religions.

Dr. Tarek al Khatib, Lebanese sect specialist.

Bill Finch: Officer of the Eisenhower aircraft carrier.

Matsuko: Young Ninja warrior.

Zev: Dual informant in the Gaza Strip.

Farhad Akbari: Iranian Dr. in Physics.

Ali: Iranian merchant, owner of a business in the Grand Bazaar of Tehran.

Mahmud: Driver and guide on the second trip to Alamut.

Glossary

Nizaris: Branch of the Ismaili sect of Shiite Islam that developed between the 10th and 13th centuries

Hashashin: member of the assassins sect, hashish consumers.

Shamshir: Persian curved saber, very sharp.

Katana: Slightly curved Japanese saber, single-edged, traditional samurai weapon.

Sharia: Islamic law based on the Koran.

Ayatollah: Echelon in the Shiite clergy hierarchy, second only to the Grand Ayatollah. They are considered authorities in Islamic sciences, in particular theology, philosophy, jurisprudence, and morals.

Hojatoleslam: Third rank in the Shiite clergy, below the Ayatollahs.

Sensei: Japanese Martial Arts: Master. Literally: the one who has walked the path.

Huríes: in Islam, the virgin dancers, endowed with special charms and eternally young waiting for the warriors to have sexual relations with them.

Prologue

East Persia" 1256 AD

I

He was running desperately down the slopes of the hills, hurting his legs with the sharp edges of the rocks that projected onto the narrow ledge path that fate had set before him to escape his pursuers. After the bloody ambush they had set against the Mongols, these had regrouped and rammed against them in a brief but extremely violent combat in which the invaders from the East ended up imposing their number on the followers of the Prophet. The battlefield witnessed a true butchery where few were left alive.

Once it became clear that he had no way of defeating the barbarians, he turned his horse toward the only exit that seemed practicable in the direction of the narrow valley. A Mongolian arrow ended the steed's run and he was violently flung to the hard rock floor. Glancing back, he saw four Tatars following in his footsteps closely, and he commended himself to Allah, determined to sell dearly his life. He climbed the steep slope of the valley to a kind of narrow path carved by the elements of which he had no idea where it was leading, but the truth was that if the Mongols were to chase him along the path, they should also do it on foot, losing the advantage that they had when they were mounted. As he reached the top of the hillside and onto the trail a new arrow pierced his pants, biting into the flesh of his leg. Again he turned his head and found that the followers had also left their horses and began the ascent of the ravine. The final fight would then be in a very difficult environment but the superiority of the Mongols as riders at least disappeared from the scene, although they were still one against four. When ascending the mountain, low clouds began to appear, obstructing the view, so that the persecuted had to take extreme precautions not to roll down the ravine towards the unfathomable abyss that was progressively deeper, but at the same time he had to hurry so that the distance that separated him from his stubborn pursuers did not decrease. At one point he came to a bend where the trail turned around the hillside, not allowing him to see what was on the other side while narrowing even further. He placed one foot on the hidden opposite side and prepared to launch his body into the void to revolve around the bend. At that moment a certain Mongolian arrow hit his right shoulder, tearing the flesh. Although the wound was not fatal, the impact and pain made him lose his balance in the delicate trance and his hands stopped grasping the rock wall. Hassan Jur Sha plunged into the endless abyss and in his last moments of lucidity he only saw the continuous wall of rock through which he was falling.

II

The beautiful Huris danced around him, sliding their voluptuous bodies to the beat of the melody, barely touching him with their fine silk veils from China. Hassan felt an unstoppable desire and tried to reach one of the women with his hands and tear off the veil. A scream of pain erupted from his mouth as his hands clawed at the empty space. Slowly the conscience returned to him, struggling with his desire to remain in the Garden of Eden where he had been happy only once in his life thanks to a concession from the Old Man, and that had left in his memory an imprint so vivid that his sole objective in life was to return to that place even if it was ephemeral.

Reality prevailed despite his efforts and he soon recognized that he was not in a garden but on a narrow strip of rock on the steep slope of the mountain, which had providentially stopped his fall and saved his life, at least for those moments. The site was small and partially occupied by big eggs of large birds, which lay on straw, no doubt brought by the parents. Overcoming his vertigo Hassan looked into the emptiness and saw that large birds circled the site, no doubt seeking to expel the intruder.

Very appropriately, an eagles nest. He thought.

The young man looked then at his bruised body and tried to move but the pain prevented it. He slid his gaze upward looking for any practicable way out of the saving strip that had become a trap. Finally his eyes located a series of projections of the rock that led upward toward the trail from which he had fallen, but had no way of knowing if they reached the upper path; it was his only option anyway, and he knew he would eventually have to try to climb. However at that time Hassan was unable to move due to the pain, and he settled down to wait. He touched the ground beneath his body and saw that his scimitar had miraculously fallen below him so he grasped it; if he did finally manage to climb, he would need it.

His mind was lost in a sleepy state, in which the reminiscences of the Houris were mixed with sad memories. His thoughts ran through the latest events since the fall of the Alamut fortress, the captivity of the last surviving member of the sect, their calamitous march to Mongolia led by Patriarch Jur Sha, his grandfather, the massacre of the entire family at the hands of the captors who tormented them for fun, and his escape after slicing off the neck of the two drunk Mongols who came to kill him using the sword of one of them. The young man reflected that he was the last living descendant of Rashid al-Din Sinan, the legendary Old Man who had terrorized the sultans and emirs from Syria to Persia.

No! Hassan Jur Sha would not end his days in an eagles' nest on a lost hillside.

III

When he finally climbed the trail he threw himself exhausted on the ground, after confirming that the Mongols were not in the vicinity. After resting for a while he stood up, trying to avoid the disturbing void sight, took his scimitar from the floor and tried to orient himself. Far away, walking along the path but several bends ahead, his eyes saw the Mongols who were chasing him, who surely had not noticed his fall into the abyss had already continued their stubborn chase, no doubt spurred on by some reward offered by their bosses for kill the last remnant of the family. The men had gone on and Hassan saw their backs. His first reaction was to retrace his steps on the path that had led him there and put distance with the Mongols sneaking off on some secondary path hidden by brush, but something stopped him. If the Mongols returned empty-handed, they would give their leaders notice of his survival, and the persecution would continue endlessly, and ultimately they would find him somewhere in the sprawling Mongol empire. No! For his future life and the revival of his cause he must be had to be presumed dead. For this, the four Tartars who were chasing him had to perish and with them all memories of his presence on Earth. Hassan turned on his heel and headed after the men who wanted to kill him, brandishing his scimitar. The fight was still four to one, but now he was behind and had become the pursuer. He would fall on their back by surprise and throw them off the cliff.

IV

India- Spring 1848

Forcing his camel to bend on his knees and getting off him, his face showed a gesture of relief. At forty, his hips ached after prolonged efforts, and despite his strenuous youth, the years were already weighing on him.

After receiving the title of Aga Khan from the Shah of Iran Fath Ali, Hassan had known certain comforts that in his previous life he had lacked and had become accustomed to them.

Hassan Ali Sha, a direct descendant of Jur Sha through his ancestor also named Hassan, the only member of the family of the Old Man who had survived the Mongol massacre in Alamut and the other Persian cities, had finally reached India. His historic mission would be to bring together Khodjas, descendants of the Nizari diaspora and quite numerous in that country, but for that he had to negotiate with the English, the true owners. Hassan Ali had received his title of Aga Khan, and also the religious hierarchy that granted him being the forty-sixth Nizari imam and therefore spiritual head of all the members of that Ismaili sect.

The head of the English garrison, Colonel William Blake Parker, left the command building to greet the newcomer dryly, overcoming his racial prejudice. He was magnificently attired in his impeccable red jacket, gleaming boots, and decorations from a hundred battles at the head of his Bengal Lancers, the glorious regiment under his command. Several of his British officers were with him, and Hassan was also able to observe a civilian, dressed in a beige jacket and a cork helmet that made him look more like an explorer in Africa than a representative of His Majesty in India.

Hassan and three companions were taken to a major guest house so they could dust off the desert sand, wash, and change their clothes. Lunch would be served in two hours, so they could also get some rest.

The table was extremely long, and the English officers of the regiment sat at it. Hassan had a chair reserved in front of Colonel Parker's and noticed that the English civilian sat next to the latter, while his two companions were taken to lunch with the troops. The food was exquisite and Hassan had trouble remembering when he had been entertained in such a way. As the English do not give knotless stitches, he guessed that the expectations placed on him were high.

Indian servants dressed colorfully and in white gloves served the courses and dessert. Perhaps because it was still noon and having a Muslim guest, no alcoholic beverages were served during or after lunch.

At one point the officers withdrew and left Colonel Parker, Hassan, and the civilian, who was only then introduced as Basil Hawthorne, a journalist and writer by profession.

Parker opened the conversation with his dry style, austere in words but precise and clear. After his stay at the regiment headquarters Hassan was be taken, happily in a carriage, to Bombay where he would meet with the very top of the English authorities in India. He would be in charge of the reorganization of the Ismaili community in the subcontinent, a rank that not even his ancestors had had. Hassan was waiting for the counterpart that they expected of him to be mentioned, but the colonel did not satisfy that curiosity. He got up saying.

You will excuse me, but I must meet with my men to supervise a cavalry charge practice that will take place in three hours. I leave you in the company of our guest Mr. Hawthorne.

Hassan wondered if the military man had ever smiled in his life, but that thought was immediately replaced by a more practical one. At last the mystery of the civilian's presence at his reception was revealed. Hawthorne was actually a spy and would be the one to explain the conditions of the English to recognize to him the title of chief of the Ismailis in India.

The conversation was friendly and the Englishman explained the geopolitical situation in the Asian continent, including the confrontation between the English and Russian empires, called the Great Game (to which other secondary games were added between the British colonial power and the fierce Afghan tribes of the northwest of Hindustan, that gigantic subcontinent that included what would later become India and Pakistan.

At one point Hawthorne openly showed the game and said.

Like yourself, I am a civilian and I do not believe in battles that leave the fields covered in dead and the cities full of invalids who can only ask for alms. The selective elimination of turbulent leaders is an infinitely more sensible and pious method of ... let's call it pacification.

Hassan asked hypocritically.

What do you expect my role in this pacification to be?

The Englishman replied immediately without blushing.

We know that not only faith in Islam has remained among the Nizaris. Also the practices and rites of martial arts developed in the castle of Alamut and that they retain their willingness to put them into practice. We also know that you yourself are one of the greatest exponents of these arts and your orders to your subjects are immediately obeyed by them.

Masks had finally fallen, the English wanted to turn the Nizaris into their hit men in India to eliminate pesky leaders.

––––––––

V

Hindu Kush- 1848

The night fell on the eagles nest built on the peak of one of the mountains of the mountain range called Hindu Kush (Slayer of Hindus in Persian)

A very slight click broke the silence of the night when the hook fell on the loophole of the wall. Immediately three figures dressed in black climbed the long rope that allowed them to ascend the thirty meters high of the wall. One of the Afghan sentries thought he had heard something and approached the source of the sound lazily, only to fall with his throat pierced by a silent arrow so he could not make any sound. The three shadows entered the rampart of the wall and moved nimbly in the dark. Three other sleepy sentries were slashed with total stealth, and once inside the castle the three intruders walked through the rock-cut rooms, slaughtering all the sleeping occupants to ensure a safe retreat. Finally they found what undoubtedly was the place they were looking for.

Emir Wazir Akabar Khan slept peacefully with his head resting on his concubine's lap. Two accurate blows of shamsir (the Persian curved sabers) killed both lovers and at the same time with one of the most seasoned enemies of the English Empire in India.

Chapter 1

Brooklyn- New York- Present Time

The woman parked her car on the street, as close to the police fence as possible; she did not bother to lock the doors with keys, as the site was teeming with policemen. She approached the tape surrounding the crime scene and showed the FBI badge to the uniformed man; the policeman immediately lifted the tape allowing her to pass. Once inside she looked around for a known officer who might be in charge of the site and spotted Captain Paddy O'Keefe, a tall, stout, and ruddy Irishman with whom she had once had a love affair. The man saw her approach and greeted her from afar. The newcomer did not know how to greet him in return, so she finally opted for a simple handshake to avoid gossip. The lady was struck that the procedure was conducted by a high-ranking officer and not one of his subordinates, but in fact, if they had called the FBI it must be something important. She approached Paddy who kissed her cheek against her precautions.

Hello Lakshmi. Nice to meet you. You look splendid.

Visibly flattered, Lakshmi Dhawan tried to hide her blush, but deep down she was glad of the man's cordial reception, although she presumed that some sexual fantasy with her hovered in his mind; indeed she recalled his fieriness in the short time they were together. A flash of her memory brought her vividly the reflection of a mirror in a closet when they were both naked in bed, his reddish white skin intertwined with her darker complexion.

Trying to overcome those memories, the woman scanned with her eyes the crime scene with the body of a robust man lying on the street partially covered with a blanket in the middle of a huge pool of blood. Finally she asked,

Well, Paddy, what do we have here?

They both approached the body and the coroner, who knew them both, uncovered it. It was a large man, of Levantine appearance, with a sallow face covered with a thick black beard. He was dressed in a long white wool tunic covered in blood. His neck exhibited a heinous wound that almost separated his head from the body.

Oh God! The woman exclaimed. It was almost a beheading. Do you have any idea what it was produced with?

Doug thinks it was a very large and very sharp weapon, something like a saber, or scimitar. Paddy answered referring to the coroner. Logically we will know more when he does the autopsy.

Time of the murder?

" About five hours ago, around four o´clock in the morning. We were notified by the hotline two hours ago.

Lakshmi knelt beside the corpse and watched it carefully as well as the surroundings. An inscription written in blood in Arabic characters and in Latin letters on the pavement caught her attention.

ALAMUT

At that moment it began to snow again.

Come. If you've already seen what you wanted, let's continue the talk inside the police car. Said Paddy.

Upon entering the patrol car the Irishman took out a thermos of hot coffee, poured it into a plastic cup and offered it to the woman.

Here, it is the same awful concoction that we have in the station but it will warm your body. Then another glass was poured for him.

Well. Finally said Lakshmi. The man was dressed as to ride a camel and walk through the desert.

I suppose that he would go or he would come from some formal event that demanded to use traditional clothes.

What do we know about him? Do you have any idea why the FBI was involved?

Paddy opened the car window and asked a uniformed man to bring him plastic envelopes storing evidence of the items found. The man went to look for them and gave them to him. The captain put on some disposable gloves and gave others to Lakshmi, then opened one of the envelopes and extracted a passport, partially stained with blood. The woman took it, flipped through the first pages, and read.

Kadar Al ash Sheik. Subject of Saudi Arabia.

And apparently a very important character in that country, with some presumably religious function. When my bosses consulted the Embassy of Saudi Arabia there was a great stir, the ambassador himself called the mayor of the city and demanded the utmost effort to clarify the case and treat it in the greatest secrecy.

Why?

I have no idea. Look at that caravan of cars coming. Surely they are the Saudis.

Indeed, three huge and undoubtedly armored black cars had parked in the dark alley, and from them descended a large procession of men in dark suits, almost all of them bearded. Almost immediately another entourage of official police cars arrived, in a rendez vous no doubt orchestrated, and several men also descended from them. Seeing them O'Keefe jumped out of his seat and ran to meet them saying to Lakshmi.

It's Commissioner Flanagan himself. Come with me.

Paddy and his old friend Flanagan greeted each other effusively but briefly. The first motioned for Lakshmi to come closer and proceeded to introduce her.

Commissioner Rory Flanagan, Special Agent Lakshmi Dhawan of the FBI.

I have heard speak highly of you. Said the former. I asked Kenei ... your boss to send the best she has.

Lakshmi pretended not to notice the Commissioner's slip; She knew well that Keneisha Sullivan, her boss, and Commissioner Flanagan, both divorced, had been in a predominantly sexual relationship for years.

Well, the Saudi security chief is approaching there and if I am not mistaken, the ambassador in person is coming with him. Flanagan said. I leave you, I will pay them my respects and talk to them. The Ambassador is a member of the Saudi royal family.

Lakshmi remained for another half hour at the cold crime scene, took some photos even though she knew that the site had been thoroughly filmed. Then she stood in front of the ominous blood script on the pavement and photographed it from different angles and distances.

Alamut She thought, and certain memories came back to her, diffuse memories of stories of medieval origin read in her childhood.

Lakshmi went to her place of work and after parking in the place designated for her, she went up to the fifth floor and without hesitation entered the office of her superior, whose door had the legend

Keneisha Sullivan. Deputy Director

When she saw her from inside through the door, the woman motioned for her to pass, and she did so.

Keneisha was a splendid African American of about forty-five years old, with very dark skin and a spectacular body.

Chapter 2

As soon as Lakshmi entered, the office occupant stood up and without even greeting her put on a jacket and said.

We were waiting for you to arrive with the first information from the field. There is a meeting in the Situation Room. You will expose first with what you have seen.

Lakshmi hesitated.

Let me go to the toilet first, I also have a series of photos, I don't think the forensic ones have already arrived.

While you go to the bathroom, give me your cell phone. I'll ask Mitch to project them when you speak.

Who will be present?

I have no idea. All the command in our area, and probably people from the State Department.

When both women entered the vast room provided with a wide table almost completely full of all kinds of audiovisual media. Without hesitating for a moment, Jeff Clark, the head of the division in which both women worked, stood up and told the attendees, who in many cases were not known to each other.

I have already given a brief explanation to those present of what happened. He said addressing the new arrivals. Then he changed his focus speaking to the rest. The first data we will receive from Special Agent Lakshmi Dhawan, who has just arrived from the crime scene, and who am I asking to tell us her first impression of what she saw before certain fresh details are erased from his mind. Lakshmi, speak without fear of being wrong, we understand that you have not had time to put your ideas in order and prepare a report. Then he addressed again all people sitting at the table.

After Agent Dhawan's presentation, Chief Sullivan will update us on the information about the extinct that has been obtained so far.

With a calm that surprised herself Lakshmi began to relate what she witnessed after her arrival at the crime scene, the conversations with Captain O'Keefe and the coroner, her observations during her stay on stage at the same time that the technician called Mitch projected the photos on a wide screen, enlarging the planes as Lakshmi or the attendees requested. The exposition of the woman was well structured despite the improvisation, and it was giving rise to requests for explanation from the different people present.

Was his head severed? Asked a CIA man.

Not completely.

" How would you describe the blow to the neck?

The autopsy will say it with greater certainty, but the impression is that it was a single blow given with great force and with an extremely sharp weapon.

Do you think the murder took place in the same place where the body was found? Asked a woman from one of the intelligence agencies that Lakshmi could not determine.

Without a doubt, since there was great amount of blood in the site. The body was not moved after the murder.

At last, an elderly man the woman only knew was a retired Admiral expressed.

What do the inscriptions in letters and in Arabic characters written with blood on the pavement suggest?

Alamut. The speaker repeated mechanically. I don't know if what is written in Arabic is the same as in our alphabet.

It is. One of the FBI linguistic experts said dryly.

Well ... it reminds me of stories from my childhood ... when I lived in India, medieval stories of murderers and hashish.

The Admiral interrupted.

The same stories that came to the West through Marco Polo's narrations. They also remind me of stories from my childhood, which of course predates Miss Dhawan's by a couple of years.

All present laughed at the break given by the oldest member to the rigid formality of the meeting.

After the end of the round of questions Lakshmi returned to her chair. Director Jeff Clark, seated next to her, placed his hand on the young woman's, showing his support and satisfaction in a silent way; then he stood up and announced.

As Keneisha Sullivan had anticipated, she will inform us of what we have found so far about the personality of the victim.

The aforementioned went to the front and took a laser pointer, while Mitch projected a photo of the victim from the front and in profile, and then several snapshots of him on the streets of New York.

This information is very preliminary and we are looking for more data at this very moment. He is ... sorry, he was Kadar Al ash Sheik, born in Saudi Arabia. Direct line descendant of Muhammad ibn al Wahhab, founder of the Wahabite sect. Although he did not belong to the Saudi royal family, his cradle places him among the aristocratic families of the kingdom. That ancestry also assured him a preponderant religious role in Wahhabism. As far as we could determine, he was a director of one of the most important mosques in Riyadh, and had frequent contact with Crown Prince Mohamed bin Salman, which surely explains the presence of the Saudi ambassador at the crime scene as soon as he learned of the event.

Keneisha made a pause and cleared her throat.

We know that Kadar Sheik's family has significant business interests in their country and ties in the United States, where we have recorded his arrival on average twice a year in the past five years. No relatives or social friends are known in this country. We know that the Saudi embassy was organizing his stay, but we can assume that they will not provide us any information on his activities.

Keneisha stopped again and took a sip from a glass of water placed on the table. She continued.

We suppose that his presence in New York is explained partly by meetings and services in the mosques of the area, but we are trying to confirm it. We do not have news about other possible activities in the city.

The woman allegedly from an intelligence service asked.

I know it's too early, but ... do we have any clue about the motive for the murder?

Director Clark took over answering the question. There was a hint of rivalry in his tone, not unusual between different services.

As you said, it is too early indeed.

The questions continued for a few minutes more. As Director Clark was about to close the meeting, the CIA man got up and asked to speak. He went to the front and gave Greg a pen-drive asking to project one file in it. He began his exposition by saying.

What I'm going to show here is absolutely confidential and will explain to you the reason for the CIA's presence at this event.

He took the laser pointer and added.

"You will excuse me for not providing the names of the victims because the investigations are ongoing, although I must admit that there is a lot of darkness in them. This one we see here is a prominent Iranian Shiite cleric killed in Chicago three weeks ago. As you can see, he was also executed with a very sharp cutting weapon blow that almost severed his head, although not completely. In this case, the cleric was not passing through the United States but resides in the mentioned city. Next slide please.

This murder occurred last month in Amsterdam, and the victim was a Syrian smuggler of precious gems, so the crime was initially attributed to a dispute in the closed diamond market. The information comes from Interpol and our own sources in that European city. Look at the horrible gash in the man's neck. There has also been no progress in this case. Next slide please.

As the body of a man with his throat cut appeared in an alley, the speaker continued.

This other episode happened in Barcelona ten days ago. He was a large-scale drug dealer of Pakistani nationality.

The lecturer paused to put his ideas in order. Then continued

In the cases of the Shiite cleric from Chicago and the trafficker from Barcelona, ​​both were already under CIA radars for activities dangerous to the security of the United States. We have no previous data on the other two cases. But I must highlight the similarities and differences between the four cases, including the one in New York City.

New silence to catch up breath.

In summary we have two clergymen, one Sunni from a branch of Islam with a center in Saudi Arabia, and another from the Shiite branch based in Iran, irreconcilable enemy of the first since the time of the Prophet Muhammad. On the other hand we have two merchants with illegitimate activities and without obvious ties to spiritual or religious issues, that is, all in all human beings with very little in common.

One of the attendees asked.

Can it not be cross-revenge between rival sectarian groups?

The relation with two traffickers would still have to be explained. Replied the CIA man. But that is not the reason why we have excluded this possibility in principle, but because of the similarities.

Explain yourself, Mike, said the woman from the intelligence services.

Well, all the executions occurred in the last three weeks and were carried out in dark places in isolated alleys. The technique used to cut the victims' throats was the same executed with precision so as not to entirely behead them, using what we believe were scimitars of the type made in the Middle Ages in the Near East, which speaks of training in the use of this kind of weapons ... and above all ...

Evidently the CIA man wanted to create suspense for his next statement.

In all cases the same legend appeared. The word Alamut written in our alphabet and in Arabic characters.

The surprise at this last statement among the attendees was great.

The CIA man concluded.

This series of similarities to our criteria exclude the possibility that they may be mere coincidences, and the fact that the cases and their circumstances have not been disclosed also excludes the possibility of one or more followers or copy- cats who were informed by the media and copying the methods. The only possible explanation is a type of international plot with unknown objectives.

Standing up, the Admiral said.

It is obvious that at the moment there is no more relevant information. I am going to try through the State Department to obtain data from the Saudi embassy on the New York City case, but I would have no illusions about it because they are usually very reserved.

With an evident consensus, Director Clark ended the meeting thanking everyone for their presence.

When all attendees had left the Admiral approached Clark and said.

I would like to meet with Special Agent Dhawan, if possible ... alone.

Clark was slightly upset at being excluded from an activity by one of his agents but responded.

Yes, yes, of course, you can use my office.

Then he called Lakshmi who was leaving the situation room and said

Lakshmi, this is Admiral Donnelly, who collaborates with the State Department. He needs to meet you now in my office.

Chapter 3

Once located in the director's large office, the Admiral went straight to the point.

You will be surprised but although we have not seen each other before I have references from you that have caught my attention. What we are going to discuss in this meeting is strictly secret and at the moment you cannot tell it to your boss or to Director Clark.

He paused to make sure he had been understood and then continued.

Tell me, in your opinion, what it is the most relevant of this and the other cases.

Lakshmi answered without hesitation.

The word Alamut.

Okay, and what does it suggest to you?

The fortress of the sect of the assassins in the Middle Ages in the Asia Crescent.

All right. Is it just a historical reference?

Lakshmi felt a little uncomfortable answering this question.

No... it was a sect of Islam with a strong esoteric content.

Donnelly smiled and pulled out a narrow file from his attaché.

This is the information I have gathered about you.

He opened the file and began to read aloud to himself.

Let's see. Lakshmi Nania Dhawan, born in Bombay, today Mumbay, India, of parents belonging to high castes, attended high school in London and then her family emigrated to the United States, settled in New York City and once here she completed her studies in Law and entered the FBI twelve years ago and since then has had an outstanding record ... her evaluators insist with her natural intelligence and loyalty ... married to the Icelandic anthropologist Ingo Ragnarsson, she had her only daughter Anila with him, how old is the girl now ...?

Seven years. Lakshmi completed.

Seven years. The Admiral repeated. But a couple of years later she divorced her husband and has not remarried.

The old man continued reading in silence, until finally he closed the file and added.

But what interests me most is not d in this file.

What do you mean?

I mean your connection to the Bluthund Community.

Hearing this unexpected phrase, Lakshmi jumped in her chair. She immediately understood that she couldn't pretend and say that she didn't know what the old Admiral was talking about, so she decided to face the situation.

Admiral, I'm surprised you even know the term. Let me ask you what you know about Bluthund.

Little, and I hope that you can enlighten me about it.

Lakshmi reflected on the fact that she was speaking to a man who, despite his somewhat fuzzy duties, was his superior and therefore could not ignore his request. She sat in another position in the chair, cleared her voice, and began an impromptu explanation.

Bluthund, word that means bloodhound in German, is an informal group that was created a decade and a half ago and has been consolidated over time through joint participation -although generally in virtual form- of its members. The number of these has been growing due to strict word of mouth communication. At present, it brings together researchers who use alternative methods to solve their cases.

The Admiral pondered this answer and asked.

What alternative methods? What cases are involved? How do you select the topic you are going to focus on?

Those are several different questions. We are going to deal with them one by one. Cases can be historical or current police events, events that normally have strong roots in the past and even in the remote past, in short, intriguing and inexplicable events and generally referring to all kinds of bizarre issues.

"Alternative methods?

It refers to the use of methods not based on the positive sciences, but rather on traditional knowledge, in arcana of different cultures.

"Arcana?

Secret, hidden things, with a halo of mystery.

"Can you give me some examples, please?

I am going to mention some recent ones that involved various researchers, to give you an overview of the techniques and knowledge used.

The young woman coughed in order to clear her throat and continued.

A case was solved using the opinions of the I Ching, the thousand-year-old Chinese book of wisdom, which recommends courses of action in the different circumstances that are consulted to it by scholars.

I know the book. Based on random facts such as throwing Chinese coins with Yin and Yang on their faces or throwing yarrow stalks leads to different hexagrams giving the book opinions or advice.

Another case was based on reading ancient texts from Scandinavian runes. Lakshmi continued.

I also know the subject. In the Futhark or Nordic alphabet each sign has a very precise esoteric value. Donnelly replied.

Whose knowledge suggests courses of action for the seasoned reader.

The woman thought for a moment.

There have also been historical cases that were revealed appealing to the knowledge of Nazi esotericism.

A body of complex and absurd beliefs but that had immense influence in circles very close to Adolf Hitler in his time of heyday. The old man completed. Well, all this confirms the reason why the two of us are meeting at this moment, and without witnesses.

I am really anxious to know what interest the State Department has in the Bluthund group. Said the woman.

Donnelly decided it was time to open up his game and get on the subject.

You have to know that it is not the State Department that is formally interested but that it is a collateral branch -not an official one- that is in my charge. Due to the similarities between the cases that the CIA representative listed at the meeting in the Situation Room, we have the provisional conclusion that there is not a plot, but a series of coordinated actions carried out by a new or reappeared group, with inexplicable ends. The key is the appearance of the word Alamut in all cases, and we think that it cannot be accidental, but we believe that it is an action of... let's call it of disclosure, even of advertising.

Please explain yourself.

Some group is trying to announce here we are or we have now returned. This may be for commercial purposes.

Commercial?

Publicity for the sale of a service: murder.

The woman looked somewhat puzzled and stammered.

Admiral, exactly what do you expect of me?

That you study the cases in Bluthund and contact me to act in an informal, loose association that will give you independence of action. You will never be acting publicly for the account and order of the United States government.

The meeting ended soon after, but not before Donnelly asked Lakshmi for an oath of confidentiality.

As it was late, the woman went to her apartment to have a shower and dine alone. While she was traveling in his car Lakshmi was ruminating on her next steps, which were personally painful. To resume contact with the Bluthund Community, she had to remove the ashes of his recent past and speak first with someone who had been an important part of it.

When she got to her apartment, Lakshmi took off her heavy coat and shoes, threw herself on the bed, trying to contain some tears and calm her breathing. When she thought she was in control of herself, the woman picked up her phone and looked for a number in the directory. When she dialed someone answered at the third ring of the bell.

Hello, Jack, I'm Lakshmi.

Chapter 4

Despite the fact that Jack had moved into a Brooklyn Heights apartment years before to be close to her,