The cascading sphere was just enough of a distraction to allow Jade and Kellogg to close with the men on the stairs at the midpoint. Jade worked all the angles and didn’t care for her chances of bulldozing past the two, so instead, she planted a hand on the rail and vaulted over the side of the stairs. It was an impulsive decision, and as she arced up and over the bannister, and realized just how much space there was between her and the first floor, she instantly regretted it, but there was no turning back. The floor rushed up at her, and then before she was completely ready, she landed.
The impact sent jolts of pain up her legs, but she managed to stay loose, letting her bent knees absorb some of the shock. A vague memory of someone — probably Maddock — explaining parachute jumping techniques prompted her to lean sideways and curl into a ball. It must have been the right thing to do because the landing was not nearly as bad as she thought it would be, and a moment later, she was back on her feet and staring up at the astounded men on the stairs, which included Kellogg.
“You staying?”
Her shout snapped Kellogg out of his amazed stupor and he plowed forward, slamming into his closest assailant and sending him tumbling backward in a flail of arms and legs. Jade whirled around looking for the exit. Between her and it stood Paolo and an array of strange-looking devices — scale models of Archimedes’ siege engines and other inventions.
The sharp report of a pistol startled Jade. She ducked reflexively behind one of the contraptions and looked up, trying to see which of the men had taken the shot. It was impossible to tell since all of them, except for the one Kellogg had knocked down, were now on the stairs and brandishing guns.
It might have been just a warning shot, but it was a message Jade couldn’t ignore. She could outrun the men, but reaching the exit would require her to outrun bullets. A lot of them. Kellogg was even closer to the shooters. If they unleashed a fusillade, he would be cut down instantly.
A memory of what had happened in the fogou returned to her. When retreat had not worked, she had gone on the offensive. Attacked and won.
But those men hadn’t been carrying guns.
A nearby replica — a full-scale model of a scorpion ballista, a giant crossbow artillery piece on wooden wheels, which the ancient Greeks and Romans had used to hurl three foot long iron bolts across long distances — gave her an idea. It was a crazy idea, but maybe just crazy enough to work.
She wheeled the scorpion around so that the business end was facing the foot of the stairs, and raised a hand above the release lever. She knew the men were watching her, hoped they realized what she was attempting. Her insane plan depended on that.
Kellogg reached the foot of the stairs and headed her way. She waited a moment longer for the gunmen to get there.
“Down!” Even as she shouted the warning, her hand striking the release trigger, Jade spun around, ready to dash past Paolo and sprint for the exit.
There was a loud crack, like a giant mousetrap snapping shut, and Jade felt the air shudder as the scorpion’s torsion springs released their pent up energy and propelled the payload across the exhibit hall. An instant later, there was another sharp cracking noise as the bolt penetrated the wall plaster.
The discharge shocked Jade into momentary paralysis. Her intent had been to bluff the gunmen with the ancient weapon, get them to dive for cover in order to buy Kellogg and her the precious seconds they needed to reach the door. She was counting on their instinct for self-preservation to override the obvious knowledge that there was no way on earth a museum replica would be fully functional.
It was impossible to know if the bluff would have worked, but the actual scorpion bolt striking the wall was considerably more persuasive. The gunmen all vanished, ducking behind the balustrade.
She turned to Paolo. “That works?”
He gave a guilty shrug then waved urgently. “Come. This way. Follow me.”
Shah jolted at the loud report. The heavy stone walls of the Arkimedeion building muffled the sound, but there was no doubt in his mind about what he had just heard.
“That was a shot,” Gabrielle said, dismayed. Her reaction was further confirmation that something had gone wrong inside the museum. “They wasn’t supposed to be any shooting. We need her alive.”
Before Shah could respond, Gabrielle threw open her door and charged up the front steps of the museum.
“Gabrielle, wait!” Shah fumbled with the door lever, finally succeeded in getting it open, and raced around the front end of the van in pursuit. Some part of him knew this was a mistake. He was not one of them, not a man of violence, not a warrior ready to kill for his faith. Would they heed his exhortation against killing, especially when he had been the one to declare Jade Ihara an enemy?
He reached the entrance before the doors closed behind Gabrielle and wormed his way through just in time to see her leave the reception lobby to enter the exhibit area. Past her, he could see some of his men shouting and brandishing their guns, but there was no sign of Jade. Gabrielle was crossing in front of the gunmen, waving her hands and shouting for them to put the guns away, but if their wild-eyed looks were any indication, they were having none of it. For the first time, it occurred to Shah that perhaps Jade had been the one doing the shooting.
He continued forward, still not completely certain what he would do to regain control of the situation, and glimpsed movement, someone disappearing behind a partition. “There!”
Gabrielle’s eyes followed his pointing finger and then she was moving again, charging through the entrance to the exhibit. Shah saw the rest of the six jihadists moving to follow her, and raced on, rounding the partition just a few steps ahead of them and right behind Gabrielle.
The temporary walls enclosing the exhibit blocked nearly all outside light, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He saw Gabrielle, momentarily stalled by the darkness, searching the room for some sign of their elusive prey. The room seemed bigger than it was due to the enormous mirrored wall that ran along one side. On the other side, behind a low wall, stood a mock-up of a Roman war galley, replete with armored soldiers posed as if ready for battle. In the low light, the life-sized diorama offered countless places to hide in plain sight, a fact which evidently had not escaped Gabrielle’s notice. She hopped over the low parapet that separated the model from the viewing area and began shoving each of the mannequins in turn, knocking them to the floor and sending helmets and weapons flying. None of them offered the least bit of resistance.
“Not here,” she growled. “There must be another way out of here.”
Shah nodded dully and turned around to search the mirrored wall. His eyes had adjusted enough to realize that it was not a single flat mirror, but rather several smaller mirrors, each tilted slightly to form an gently concave surface, curved inward like the inside of a spoon.
At that instant, a voice resonated through the little room like the voice of the angel speaking to the Prophet, though the speaker did not sound particularly angelic and the words were not Arabic, but rather a familiar Latin phrase.
“Fiat lux!”
And then Shah’s world became nothing but light and fire.
SIXTEEN
Jade looked away, shutting her eyes tight, but she could not blink faster than the speed of light. The flash as the high-powered spotlight, designed to simulate the sun’s rays, shone from the ceiling of the heat ray exhibit, to be subsequently reflected and focused by the parabolic mirror array, was so bright that, in the instant of the flash, Jade thought she had seen the skeletons of the men pursuing them, visible through their skin. Even the smoked glass window of the observation booth, situated above the mock-up of the Roman war galley, was not dark enough to keep the light, indirect though it was, from being painfully bright.