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“You’re talking a switcheroo.” Bodie squinted in thought. “Instead of following the map to the treasure, you’re using it and the artifact to track down the secret HQ of…” He paused.

“The Illuminati,” Heidi finished.

Bodie found he couldn’t speak for a moment. Cassidy, never at a loss for words, blurted her reaction without thought. “Don’t be so fucking stupid!”

Heidi smiled grimly, no doubt expecting this reaction. “All right, let’s not call them that for now. We’ll come back around to it another time. Let’s say that somebody stole one of the ancient wonders of the world for their own private viewing, someone immensely powerful, and that this map tells us where it is — and consequently where they are. Let’s just say that. And I might add — they’ve already demolished a museum to cover up the theft.”

“You’re sure only the map was stolen? How can you be sure?”

“Our agents entered with the first responders. You want the truth? We already had an operation planned. Nothing on this scale, of course. But the United States want that map.”

“The group you mentioned,” Cross said. “I thought these shadowy, puppet-making, all-powerful organizations were a myth? I mean, they don’t really exist. It’s all fiction, right?”

“Then you’re fucking stupid,” Heidi bit back. “And naïve beyond belief.”

“Yeah,” Cassidy agreed. “Especially for one so… experienced.”

“Listen,” Gunn put in. “Internet whizz kid here. Conspiracy theory specialist. I’ve read it all, and I gotta say — if the CIA state that the Illuminati exist, then that’s good enough for me.”

Heidi inclined her head in his direction. “So the man that stole the map is currently taking a low-key route, returning to the man that sent him. We need to locate him and take back the map. Understood?”

“What do the locals think?” Bodie suddenly cut in. “The cops?”

“They’re not involved.”

“And by that you mean you can’t tell them because you want the map.”

“You got it. Is that a problem?”

Bodie stared at Heidi, seeing all the arguments in her eyes. He was a thief — victimless or not, expert or not, he still broke the law. The CIA broke him out of a Mexican prison. Without them, he’d be very dead right now. They could put him back there. They could clap his whole team in chains and drag them back to the US. Drop them into a black site forever. The responsibility was his — as conveyed by Heidi’s unwavering, hard gaze.

“I have to ask something,” Gunn then said, still tapping at his knees. “Why us? I mean Jemma and I are understandable — planning and tech support that rivals the best in the world at what we do, planning heists — Cross is a bit long in the tooth, but through all the cataracts I guess he’s still a pretty good thief. Cassidy? Good to look at and handy in a fight, but not a lot up top. And Bodie? Is it the teeth?”

Heidi clearly didn’t know what to say. Neither did the others.

“We’re thieves,” Gunn explained. “Don’t you need SEALs or Rangers or something?”

“Well, Team SPEAR would be good, but they’re MIA for now. Don’t ask. Don’t underestimate your effectiveness. Ancient relics are incredibly valuable, and not necessarily in monetary value. Bad people have few actionable weaknesses, but one thing they all seem to have in common is a deep desire to possess the unattainable. We need cunning, intelligence, street craft. We need experienced, resourceful witchery. We need military-standard muscle. We need a hard-assed team of fighters. Oh, and on top of that we want clear deniability and, at the end, we’re gonna need the best thieves on the planet.”

“Really?”

“How does stealing one of the ancient wonders of the world grab you?”

Cassidy squirmed. “By the balls.”

Gunn nodded. “Yeah, you got mine too. That does sound appealing.”

Bodie didn’t want to play, but saw the appeal. “You want our expertise to help track this man; the one that stole the map. Then to nab him, without using your own agents. If we’re caught we’re just a group of international relic smugglers. Chasing an ancient map. I get it. You want to bring down the Illuminati, recover the ancient wonder and return to the US covered in glory. A bold plan, Miss Moneymaker. A bold plan. But tell me — what do we get out of it?”

“Ah, the typical question out of the mouth of a crook,” Heidi said. “How about no more devastating events at the behest of a mob of old, all-powerful asshats? Fuck the ancient statue,” she said. “How about a safer world?”

Bodie knew she meant it. There was more to Heidi Moneymaker than what they saw on the surface — much more. It was refreshing to find an agent that cared as much about strangers as they did their careers, country and orders. Not unheard of, of course, there were thousands of agents that played it down the straight and narrow. Problem was, in the global game, they were as rare as pearls.

“All right,” he said. “You got me intrigued.”

“And your balls?” She raised an eyebrow.

“All yours. Consider them well and truly grabbed. Where do we go from here?”

“The man we’re chasing is a Hood. An elite member of an elite team of assassins that work directly for the Illuminati. Of the four buses and one train that left Athens directly after the explosion only two fake passports showed up. The Greeks didn’t know they were fake, they don’t work as fast as us. One is a forty-five-year-old woman…”

“And the other?”

“A twenty-eight-year-old man that didn’t exist until the age of fifteen. It’s the Hood.”

“Where?” Jemma asked.

“Larissa. The bus he was traveling on was stopped and searched. They released it eighteen minutes ago.”

“Next stop?” Jemma’s brain was already working through scenarios.

“Thessaloniki.”

“Then we should get going. That’s a long way from Acapulco. We can talk more and plan en route.”

Heidi sighed as if saying she’d known this all along. “Jet’s already running. Five minutes from here.”

Bodie rose with the others, leaving their drinks and trappings of normality behind, heading into the unknown. He took a moment to wonder if this might be the turning point in his life, the junction where all futures were possible, and then joined the chase to the CIA jet.

One thing was certain — the future was looking up.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Xavier Von Gothe kept Baltasar on the phone as long as was necessary, extracting every last morsel of information from the murderous acolyte. The man was a monster, for sure, but an utterly dependable and necessary one.

“The museum at Athens was a required destruction,” he assured Baltasar now. “They sealed their fate when they accepted the map. It does not matter that they did not know; it matters that we remain where we have been since the beginning.”

“Invisible,” Baltasar said.

“In the seat of power,” Xavier corrected. “By any means.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I am exalted. I am the glorious one. My reign is all-conquering. Do you know what they will say about me in one hundred years, Baltasar?”

“No, Master.”

“That I ruled with majesty, implacably, and with the society’s wellbeing at heart. Always Illuminati. Always first. You will be happy to know we consider the Athens event a complete success.”