Ziggy looked at the screen in his hand. “Pull over there,” he said, pointing.

Chase took his foot off the gas, and the car coasted to a stop next to a path that led up to the chapel. “In there?”

“That’s what it says.”

They both got out of the car. Ziggy checked the screen again. He had logged into the Group’s servers last night and had confirmed the information that he needed. He looked around at the chapel and then at the deserted landscape that surrounded it. This was definitely the location.

Chase led the way up the path. “So,” he said, “let me get this straight. The people you and John used to work for—they have places like this all around the world?”

“They do,” Ziggy said.

“And they just leave them in place?”

“It’s not original. The Soviets did it during the Cold War. They’re still finding those now. There was one near where I used to live back home.”

“But this one hasn’t been found?”

“I don’t think so. The records were updated a month ago.”

The building was at the top of a hill that was reached by way of a gentle trail. The door was secured with a chain and padlock. Chase found a rock at the side of the path and crashed it down against the hasp, breaking it on the fifth strike. He removed the chain and opened the doors. Ziggy took out his flashlight and shone it into the dark space. The chapel would have been beautiful when it was still in use. It was compact, with four rows of wooden pews facing an altar at the other end of the space. The windows were high up on the walls, most of them without their glass. The plaster was peeling from the walls; loose bricks and debris were scattered around, and nature was starting to reclaim the building, grass shoving through gaps in the tiled floor and creepers reaching in from the outside. Dawn was slowly breaking, and a few lazy golden rays shone through the empty portals. One beam shone on the wooden cross that still hung from the wall above the altar.

Chase took out his own flashlight and went inside. “Where is it?”

“There’s a loose flagstone behind the altar,” Ziggy said.

They made their way between the pews. Ziggy knelt down and shone his flashlight on the ground. One of the flagstones was obviously loose; one edge was very slightly raised.

“That’s been moved recently,” Chase said.

Ziggy ran his finger along the raised lip. The other stones had been covered with a fine layer of debris that must have fallen down from the ceiling at some point in the past. The dirt that would have laid atop the joins between this stone and those adjacent to it had been disturbed.

“Step back,” Chase said.