Civilians ran; jumped, screamed, leapt out of the way. Those seated inside the parked bus didn’t stand a chance; they never saw it coming. Sounds of terror filled the bus station. Many inside the shops and the café dived for cover. Baltasar saw four members of the team he’d fought and watched their actions.
The redhead and her geeky friend started sprinting as soon as they saw the bus, sensing the event. The geek was all for himself, head down, aiming for cover; the redhead shouted loudly as she went, herding individuals into her path. The other two — a woman with curly hair and a tall, clean-shaven man with dubiously white teeth — grabbed as many people as they could, shouting for many more to follow. They ran for shelter. The curly-haired woman fired her weapon into the air.
Whatever the reason, whatever the effect, it was a gesture too late. The bus struck its target and exploded. A fireball stormed the air, radiating outward as a massive explosion struck the bus station. Concrete shook and crumbled, windows shattered. A shockwave knocked running bodies to the ground, saving lives. Debris punched outward at a deadly rate — twisted metal and shrapnel, glass and plastic — a killer storm set alight by the deadly, blazing fire.
Baltasar embraced the mayhem. It was his shroud, his mantle. Something to hide behind and make use of. Now more than ever, he knew he would need all of his wits, his guile, and considerable training.
He would not be able to use the bus or the train, except perhaps on reaching Hungary, Austria or even Germany. The route remained open though, and he was ahead in every way. All they had managed to do so far was slow him down.
And look at what they had brought down upon themselves.
One tactic his masters used was to make an end result prove too costly. In any way possible. If his attackers back there were government funded — their wings would be about to be clipped.
Baltasar fancied that they were something else though. A diverse mix — they seemed like soldiers and something else. Confident, tough, resourceful. Their presence would be worth mentioning to his masters.
As soon as he got away from Thessaloniki.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bodie understood one thing immediately — if he had thought the prison was a kind of hell then he had been very, very wrong. Hell was right here, right now, for everyone affected by the incident and the aftermath.
And though he had lived an outgoing, streetwise, dangerous and often violent life, nothing had prepared him for this. The sheer trauma caused by the moment of impact, the terrible aftermath — he would never forget one second of it. On picking himself up he found a piece of metal shaped like a dagger just lying next to him. Ragged, deadly, it showed him the difference between those that got lucky and those that didn’t. Injured civilians lay between himself and the bus, most sitting up, some lying still and groaning. The area in which the explosion happened was a parking bay — fortunately not a place many lingered around. The only ones injured were those returning to the bus.
Flames billowed through the broken windows, so hot they warped metal. Black smoke plumed toward the sky. What struck Bodie at first was the absence of noise, no screaming or yelling, no running steps. The nightmarish unreality of it all lay over the scene like a fine mesh — waiting to crack.
Bodie saw several things happening though — two of them were Cassidy and Cross, one ex-military, the other an incredible conundrum, both certain to have witnessed something like this before. They were checking the wounded, shepherding those that could stand and hobble away, dragging those that couldn’t to safety. Bodie forced his body upright and then checked himself for damage.
A body loomed next to him. He blinked. It was Heidi Moneymaker, a dripping gash across her forehead, regarding him with haunted eyes.
“All this…” she gasped. “For him. For the Hood. We… we failed.”
Bodie reached down and unclasped the gun from between her fingers. “Don’t blame yourself. The people that did this are the worst kind of evil.”
Heidi put a finger up to her temple; it came away bloody. “Did I get hit?”
“Yeah, just a scratch.” Bodie walked her quickly over to the drinks machine and, in a particularly surreal moment amid the chaos, paid for a bottle of water and used it to clean up her head. Jemma was on her knees, talking to a man with a shoulder wound and Gunn was sitting with his back to a wall, dazed.
“It’ll be fine.” Bodie gently dabbed away.
Heidi grabbed his hand. “We have to go.”
“We can’t. They can’t. I can’t. We can’t leave people like this.”
Heidi’s face creased with anguish. “The cops are on their way. They catch us and the Hood gets away. The Illuminati will never be found. We’ve never come this close before and they’ll make sure we never do again.”
Bodie heard sirens and made a decision. Head still spinning, he jogged in sight of the members of his team, signaling them. One by one, they ran over. Cassidy came last after helping sit a young woman up and bind a gash on her arm. The redhead was dotted all over with blood — none of it her own.
“Services are almost here,” he said. They could see flashing lights in the distance. “We should get clear. Jemma?”
“Wait,” Cassidy said. “People need our help.”
“Three minutes,” Bodie said. “They’ll be here.”
“Not the point,” Cross said. “If one person bleeds out because we—”
“If we don’t go,” Heidi said quietly. “The people that planned this attack will stay free to plan the next. And the next…” She spread her hands, her laceration still weeping blood. “We’re behind already.”
Bodie nodded. “She’s right. Look, better people than us are coming to help them,” he said. “We can do it a different way.”
Reluctantly the team looked to Jemma. “Plans are pretty straightforward,” she said. “If Heidi can get the chopper moved there—” she nodded to the field beyond the station “—we can make it and take off behind that ridge.” Bodie saw a progressively rising crest to the right of the station. They would be a speck before anyone might catch sight of them.
“But…” Heidi warned. “Once clear, we have to lie low. If luck is against us they’ll be hunting us too next. It may even be that the Illuminati use their influence to point the finger our way.”
“We’re almost out of Greece,” Jemma pointed out, walking faster.
“You keep mentioning these Illuminati bastards.” Cassidy spoke the word like it was a bad taste in her mouth. “I think you owe us a more detailed explanation. Who the hell are they?”
Heidi nodded, focused ahead. “I agree. Let’s just get clear first.”
She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and looked sadly back at the devastation.
Bodie spoke quietly. “You’re not to blame, Heidi.”
The CIA agent nodded grimly. “Oh, I know that. I just look back there and wonder what I’d do if my own daughter had been involved. I… I—” She shook her head, unable to finish.
Bodie saw the complex emotions waging war in her head. A human disaster always wrenched at the humanity of anybody that wasn’t already dead inside. He placed an arm across her shoulders and helped her to the chopper. They didn’t look back. The authorities had more than enough to concentrate on. Bodie considered their stand on keeping everything quiet, an American operation, but again decided the pros outweighed the cons.
“Any of you have kids?” Heidi asked suddenly as they approached the chopper.
The lack of an answer was answer enough.
“You never stop worrying,” Heidi breathed. “Not even for a minute. Even… even when they refuse to speak to you.”