“Get the hell off me, you daft lummox!” Alicia shouted.
“I’m bloody trying.” Russo struggled to roll his body off her. “Last place I wanna be, believe me.”
“Ow!”
“And if you hadn’t spent so much time trying to get shagged maybe we would have taken him down.”
“Hey, Russo, your miniature backup piece is digging into my ass.”
“Eh? I don’t have a…” Russo finally managed to roll clear, groaning. “Oh, I get it.”
“Good.” Alicia sat up. “Keep it in your pants.” She noticed Crouch drawing a bead on the fleeing Beauregard and shouted at him to stop.
Crouch lowered the weapon, calm, regarding her curiously. “What did you do?”
“I talked us into a chance,” she said, giving Russo the eye. “Using my distinctive charm, of course. We’re sitting ducks out here but the mercs don’t know we know where they’re staying. The Le Grand.”
“You mean to steal the sample back from under their noses?” Crouch caught on quickly. “What makes you trust Beauregard?”
Russo snorted. “I can think of one thing—”
“I bet you can, Robster, but Michael knows what I mean, don’t you? You were there at Sunnyvale. You know Beauregard could have seriously hurt us. And now… chances are he could have escaped with the samples anyway.”
Crouch chewed his lower lip. “Tricky operation, Alicia. Even with a fully trustworthy soldier on the inside. And a hotel is not exactly perfect for a team raid.”
Alicia nodded. “Agreed, sir. But if I can get hold of Drake straight away, I believe we have just the man.”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
At 7 a.m. on a cold and windy London morning, Matt Drake and his team regrouped in a local hotel. This was no longer a single entity discussion — by necessity it had to include all the cooperating teams and more. Karin handled the heady logistics, helped by Caitlyn Nash on the Paris side and Dan Radford in LA. Armand Argento also tuned in from Interpol.
Drake reclined in an easy chair, facing a work desk where Karin had placed two laptops. Arranged around him were his teammates. The atmosphere was a little despondent, but despite their loss they still showed good spirits. With all the governments around the world searching for the samples it was only a matter of time before they showed up. In addition, with most of the Pythians’ mercenaries identified and being tracked it would be relatively easy to anticipate their next move.
Drake put an arm around Mai, receiving a slight smile in response. Grace, perched on the soft arm beside her, kicked her legs to and fro and stared into space. Most everyone else studied the laptop screens as they began to fill with images.
Alicia’s face popped up suddenly. “Hey!”
Drake laughed. “Damn, I’ve seen some things in my time but that’s scary.”
Alicia pouted. “An insult means you’re missing me. I get it.”
Hayden stepped in front of the screens. “Everyone is online? That’s good. We can start. I’d like to get a feel for what has happened so far. Mr. Crouch, if you can start.”
Drake listened without giving his full attention. In the end, all their stories were pretty much the same. They had lost the samples. The bubonic plague, or a form of it, was on its way to be weaponized at some secret factory.
Then Alicia’s voice cut through his deliberations. “I have a plan to steal our sample back.”
Dahl was first to jump in. “You know where they’re taking it?”
“Not quite like you mean,” Alicia said. “I simply know where it will be today. Perhaps even tonight.” She went on to describe her meeting with Beauregard and its favorable outcome.
Drake thought about the master assassin’s conduct during Coyote’s recent tournament. The reward was worth the risk. He nodded as Hayden turned toward him with questioning eyes.
“Yorgi,” he said. “Time to be useful.”
The Russian thief smiled widely. “For too long,” he said. “I have sat on your sidelines. Now, I prove my worth.”
Kinimaka checked his watch. “You’d better leave immediately, bud. It’s an hour’s flight and then some to Paris.”
Yorgi rose. Hayden took him into a corner, explaining the details and handing him cash and a phone. Alicia asked about any special equipment he might need and then the thief was ready.
Agent Claire Collins spoke up from Los Angeles. “We’re on full standby out here, but now we also have an agenda of our own—”
Trent cut in. “A man called the Moose. Contract killer. Threatened or killed some of our friends a few months ago during the Blanka Davic takedown. Now he appears to be working with the Pythians—”
“We want this man,” Silk broke in. “Badly.”
“Understood,” Drake said. “If it comes to it, and you haven’t caught him by the time all this is over, we’ll fly over there and help you take the bastard out.”
Collins smiled. “All right. So what’s next?”
“Following our loss,” Crouch began. “It may be time to start pursuing a different angle. I mean, what of the Pandora myth? How does it connect with all this? Are we missing something?”
Dahl and Kinimaka both nodded at the same time. The Swede spoke up. “I’ve been wondering that myself.” In answer to Drake’s smile he said, “Yes, Swedish men can multitask, unlike the English. My feeling is that they named this dreadful creation the Pandora Plague for a reason.”
Drake’s smile grew wider. “I just love how you change nationalities when it suits. Anyway… Michael? What do you know about Pandora?”
“First woman on earth,” Crouch recapped. The ex-leader of the Ninth Division had always been a lover of archaeological mystery, of fabled history and dusty old legends that just might turn out to be true. It was why he had created the new Gold Team and how they had recently discovered two caves full of Aztec treasure.
“Created at the command of Zeus. Given a box and told not to open it. What would anyone do? She set loose all the sins of the world. Now the gods, feeling a little sorry for her, had also placed inside the box a good creature whose task it was to heal the body and soul. And so was born hope. Hope managed to escape the box at the last minute, just before Pandora closed it, and flew around the world, healing the wounds that the sins and plagues had already made. But, as she escaped last, she is always the last to arrive. That’s why, when people are beset with worry, it is hope that always helps see them through.”
“Wait a goddamn minute,” Smyth barked from his protective place alongside Lauren. “If I’m hearing this correctly, the gods wanted to punish mankind? So they sent woman. Am I right?”
Lauren swatted his arm, not kindly. Smyth grumped and checked the perimeter of the room. He was nothing if not always prepared. Immediately after his impromptu outburst he whipped his cellphone out of a back pocket.
“What about the box?” Karin asked. “It’s always Pandora’s Box. Maybe it’s an important artefact or something.”
“A box that once held all known sins would be considered the greatest find in history. The stories say it could actually have been a pithos, a jar, made of clay or bronze metal. The actual story of Pandora is a theodicy — an attempt to address the question of why there is evil in the world. From the paintings of Lefebvre to the Soprano Nilsson she is always depicted holding the box, about to unleash the plagues.”
“So the naming by the Pythians could be nothing more than another message saying they’re evil?” Dahl stated. “And about to unleash a pandemic.”
“Possibly.” Crouch shrugged on screen. “Does anyone have a take on the story?”