“Nice.” Alex didn’t attempt to hide her sarcasm. “I’ve been rescued by Laurel and Hardy.”
Dane turned around to meet her stare. “Ok, your turn. Did I hear correctly that you’re a historian? That Templar business; is that for real?”
“Templars?” Professor perked up and cocked his head.
Alex looked away. “That not really my field. Listen, I’m grateful to you for getting me out of there, but I really don’t want to get mixed up in your treasure hunt.”
“Seems to me like you were mixed up in it before I came along.”
“Well, I still think it might be better for both of us if we just go our separate ways.”
Professor cleared his throat. “Do you want me let you out right now? Because I’d be willing to bet those fellows in the black van behind us will give you a lift.”
Both Dane and Alex looked back. The rear window was an almost opaque spider web of cracks, but through the fist-sized hole where the bullet had struck, Dane could see the vehicle racing to catch them. Professor put the accelerator pedal on the floor again and the sedan surged forward.
Dane had complete faith in his teammate’s skill behind the wheel; every member of the team had gone through an intensive two-week long tactical driving course. Unfortunately, the techniques that worked on a busy highway or a crowded urban street were of little use on a winding country road with poorly banked turns and a rough compacted dirt surface, covered sporadically with loose gravel. They might be able to stay ahead of the van, but the road and the laws of physics almost certainly wouldn’t let them outdistance or outmaneuver the pursuit.
“Screw this,” muttered Dane. “Professor, slow down a little.”
“Slow down?” Professor and Alex were almost in harmony.
“You know what they say about the best defense. Reel ‘em in. Don’t make it look too easy, but let them catch up to us.”
Professor shook his head. “You’re the boss, boss.”
Dane crawled into the back seat and used the captured revolver to clear away the broken window. The van was closing the gap, but for what Dane had in mind, it would have to get a lot closer.
“Stay down,” he warned.
Alex ducked her head and her eyes came to rest on the gun in his hands. “How many shots do you have left?”
“Don’t worry about it. Professor, speed up a little. Make them work for it. Then when I say the word, you slam on the brakes, got it?”
“Loud and clear,” Professor answered, betraying none of the doubt or confusion he surely felt.
“The brakes?” said Alex, incredulous.
Dane didn’t elaborate, but motioned for her to stay low. The van was gaining, slow but steady, two hundred yards back…one-fifty….
“Ease off. And get ready.”
The van seemed to surge ahead, closing to within a dozen car lengths. Its windshield reflected only the sky and the green of passing trees, hiding the occupants and their intentions, but as the gap tightened Dane saw a figure lean out of the left side window.
“Incoming!”
The report and the sound of the bullet slamming into the sedan’s roof were almost simultaneous. There was another shot and a round sizzled through the air above Dane, punched through the passenger seat headrest, and smacked into the windshield.
“What are you waiting for?” Alex shouted. “Shoot back!”
She didn’t sound nearly as frightened as Dane would have expected under the circumstances, but maybe that was because she didn’t know what he was really planning.
“Wait for it, Professor,” Dane yelled, weighing the revolver in his hand and wondering if his crazy plan had even a snowball’s chance in Hell of succeeding.
Only one way to find out.
“Now!”
Professor stomped the brake pedal and the sedan skidded along the gravel roadway. The sudden deceleration threw Dane against the back of the passenger’s seat, but he was expecting it. The hunters weren’t.
The van seemed to shoot forward, filling the empty frame of the sedan’s rear window. The driver reacted instinctively, slamming on his own brakes, but it was already too late.
Dane hurled the empty revolver at the approaching windshield, even as the van skidded forward. The reinforced glass did not shatter with the impact, but the heavy steel pistol chipped a huge pockmark in the tempered pane and sent out long cracks like lightning bolts. An instant later, the van slammed into the trunk of the sedan, accordioning the rear end and propelling the smaller car forward.
Dane was ready for that, too. As soon as the gun left his fingers, he hauled himself through the broken rear window and launched himself at the van’s fractured windshield.
It had to be the craziest thing he had ever done, but he didn’t let himself think about that, didn’t think about what would happen if he mistimed his leap, or if the windshield didn’t break.
He didn’t.
It did.
He felt just the slightest bit of resistance as the windshield collapsed on impact, and then he found himself practically in the driver’s lap. The man was looking away, covering his eyes as if to protect them from flying debris, and before he could recover, Dane drove a solid punch to his temple, putting him out.
There was no sign of the man in the passenger seat and Dane could only surmise that he had been thrown clear at the moment of impact. There was no one else in the vehicle.
Dane squirmed around to an upright position. Everything seemed to be working okay, a few scrapes and probably a lot of bruises, but nothing visibly more serious. He knew that when the adrenaline finally boiled away, he’d feel every bruise, but for the moment he was fully operational. He reached across the unmoving driver and worked the door handle. A single shove dropped the would-be killer’s limp, unconscious body onto the road, and Dane scooted into the empty seat.
The engine was still running, the automatic transmission still engaged and trying to move the van forward but the unyielding mass of the sedan kept it stationary. Alex was staring through the broken rear window of the rental car in complete disbelief.
“Get in!”
Alex didn’t move, but a moment later Professor got out and opened her door. “You heard the man.”
The transfer took only a few seconds, and as soon as they were aboard, Dane threw the transmission into reverse, backed away from the wrecked car, and then shifted forward.
Without the front window in place the wind blasted through the van like a gale, but Dane didn’t slow.
Professor leaned close. “Tell me again why we just did that?”
“These guys are organized. Ten-to-one there will be more of them waiting down the road.”
“And this changes things how?”
“They’ll be looking for our car. I’m hoping our new ride will give us a chance to slip past them, at least long enough to get to the main road.” Dane looked back at Alex who sat on the floor of the rear cargo area. “Then we’re going to have a long talk with our passenger. I think she might know more about this than even she realizes.”
CHAPTER 10
“I want to go with you,” Alex announced. “I want to help you find the medallion.”
The request surprised Dane. “A few hours ago, you said you didn’t want to be involved. Why the change of heart?”
Before she could answer, their server, and attractive young blonde, arrived to greet them
“Ever had Scurvy?” the girl asked.
They had settled into a corner table at The Mayflower, a cozy riverside public house built in 1550, reputedly the oldest on the River Thames. According to local lore, in 1620 the famous ship which had brought the Puritans across the Atlantic to their new home in the Americas, had pulled up to the dock and taken on some of its passengers who were waiting at the pub, before sailing on to its more noteworthy homeport at Plymouth. Dane was fascinated with the nautical décor and the historic theme, but his primary reason for choosing the pub was that it was the kind of place where three Americans could lay low for a while without attracting too much attention. During the train ride from Hertfordshire to London, and subsequently as they traversed the city looking for a refuge, there had been no sign of pursuit. Nevertheless, Dane was not about to relax his vigilance.