The Kremlin Over there, the wall.

Renowned archaeologist and part-time particle physicist John Roberts pushed open the heavy doors of the Ram and Bucket pub with the determination that could only come from someone involved with an international conspiracy of biblical (literally) proportions. He could hardly believe that just fourteen hours earlier he had been locked in a dungeon in Spain, yet during his escape had noticed the light of the moon shining through the stained glass window of the Abbey Santiago church had revealed the code that had led him here, to this remote village in North Wales. The door slammed shut behind him, and all went quiet, the only sound the torrential rain outside. All eyes were on John as he walked over to the ornate wooden bar, the maid behind eyeing him suspiciously.