It soon came. The curtain must have been fixed to a remote because it started to swish aside with an electronic smoothness. Bodie crouched beside a bronzed statue sporting a sword and shield and wondered if he’d ever get his face-off with Jack Pantera.
Damn, I hope so.
Cross and Jemma lay low to his left, a steel chest covering them. Cassidy preferred a half-concealment, enabling her to aim better. The tall stallion she hid behind towered above her.
Through the curtains’ widening gap a ravening horde came. Bodie saw blood already on their hands and faces, a product of the black mass they had been performing. The angle of their run saw them attacking the ramp, with many heads glancing over to the right where Bodie suddenly saw a brick room fronted by a steel door.
Interesting…
The Rangers opened fire, felling three and then three more. Those that saw the danger dropped low or chased around the balcony. Those that didn’t surged straight for the ramp, rapidly closing the gap between them and the Rangers. Constant gunfire rang out, and some of the crowd fired back. Bodie aimed and fired, each bullet taking down a man who slowed those behind. A roar filled the pit, echoing down from the ceiling high above, the roar of the angered and the crazed, a roar of the aggrieved.
The Illuminati came faster than the Rangers could pick them off. First the closest soldier and then the second in line jumped down into the pit, rolling and trying hard not to damage an ankle. The lessening firepower urged the attackers on; and then Bodie saw the Hoods at the back of the pack, trying to push through.
Fifty Hoods? Shit.
Cassidy fired shot after shot, reloaded in seconds and kept the rush at bay. The first of the Illuminati were halfway down the slope now, urged on by the fire their boss had planted in their hearts, spurred on by the thought that they had always reigned supreme before, never suffered a loss. Gunn’s voice filled their ears, so they knew the Hoods were all inside and the true leaders were following fast.
“And guards,” Jeff said. “The whole shebang.”
The Rangers reappeared along the base of the pit, joining their colleagues. Several stray bullets passed them by but the attackers didn’t have enough firepower to make it count. Bodie again saw a dozen glances toward that brick building and acted on a hunch.
“Cross,” he said. “With me.”
They swerved past an ancient pillar, avoided a French Renaissance chair and took just a few seconds to beat the lock. Door open, they peered inside.
“Ooh,” Cross intoned. “Playtime.”
“Not for us,” Bodie said. “For them.” He nodded at the Rangers.
“We have a mini-armory over here,” Cross said through the comms. “Jemma. Come help. We can distribute to the Rangers.”
They took what they could carry: rifles, semi-autos and magazines. Bodie unhooked a rocket launcher and two RPGs. They found knives and grenades. They found canisters with no name. Flash-bangs and frequency jammers.
“Why here?” Jemma wondered. “Among their treasure?”
“Obvious, really,” Gunn came back. “They’ll have one on each floor. Maybe two. If the entire floor is a treasure chamber…”
“Yeah, okay.”
“One other thing,” Gunn said.
Bodie took that one. “Speak.”
“These Illuminati are fired up, fighting for their lives. And they’re plentiful. I advise cutting the heads off the snake.”
“Goat Boy,” Cassidy said. “And whoever else. Can you pinpoint them for us?”
“Got a target on them since the beginning. I’m tracking ’em right now.”
“It’s a good idea,” Bodie said. “But the Hoods won’t stop. The Hoods are the real danger here.”
The sound of gunfire filled the pit. Stray metal glanced off and pitted a dozen artifacts, and smashed one glass-blown figure to smithereens. Bodie, Cross and Jemma moved quickly back to their places, ready to hand the new arms out.
Cassidy flicked an arm. “RP fucking G, now!”
Bodie cringed even as he slid it along the floor to her. The grenades went a moment later. Cassidy couldn’t keep the grin from her face.
“Don’t worry,” she said, not trying to hide her excitement. “It’s a final option.”
“Yeah,” Cross said. “As if. You don’t even believe yourself.”
Bodie slid what guns he could along to the Rangers and Heidi, watching the others do the same. He kept a few spare mags for himself. The attackers had reached the base of the ramp now but were thinning out, bodies piled in their wake. The Hoods stepped on them and sheltered behind them, creeping forward. Today, Bodie saw, they all wore ceremonial robes and half masks, their traditional cowl thrown back, their feet bare. They carried daggers to a man, something customary for the ceremony perhaps. Maybe they all got to stab the poor victim.
Passing through the curtain, Bodie spotted the man with the goat head; saw him take it off. The leader unveiled right there at the top of the ramp, viewing and evaluating all he saw and no doubt fretting over the treasures he now could not reach.
“I sure wish we had another team about now,” Heidi said. “Someone to hit them from behind. Shit.”
“Next time,” Bodie said.
“Next time?” Cassidy cried. “Fuck that!”
She stood up, emptied her mag into the approaching mass. Several had reached the Rangers and were fighting man to man, going down within seconds but gradually overwhelming the soldiers through numbers alone. Heidi crept up to their side, reduced to a Glock and a knife. Bodie looked over to his team.
“Let’s get stuck in.”
As one, they charged, Cross and Cassidy and Jemma and himself, backing up the United States Rangers and the CIA, nobody easing off and nobody backing down, ready to use guns and knives and arms and legs and bone if need be.
Bodie forward kicked a man in the sternum, saving ammo, struck another over the bridge of the nose with an elbow and one more with the butt of his gun. Blood sprayed, bodies fell. Gunshots laced the air and even bounced up off the floor. The Hoods were suddenly upon them, and Bodie saw the first wave had actually been nothing but cannon fodder.
“Crueler than cruel.”
Hand to hand combat broke out. Knives flashed. The Hoods were relentless and skillful, uncaring about survival. Bodie stumbled under a vicious onslaught only to see Cassidy haul the man away and throw him aside. He saw Jemma fall and dragged her clear. He saw a Ranger die with a knife in his neck, another fall as he was repeatedly stabbed. He saw more Rangers come to the aid of the fallen, killing the killers. This was warfare in one of its rawest, divergent forms, sharp and blunt and hot and cold.
A fist to the face sent him falling over the body at his back. He caught himself, fired up into the attacker, saw the bullet made no difference, and rolled. A knife embedded into the wood beside his head. He struck at the temple, three times, jabbed at the neck. The Hood fell away. Bodie removed the knife and buried it in the man, looked up.
Another Hood fell on top of him.
The team managed to rise, to back away. The Hoods came more slowly, trained to fight and look for the right moment. Cassidy waited until the first lunge then toppled the table full of Fabergé eggs into the man’s path. Screams went up from the balcony above. The man tried desperately to avoid the rolling, priceless wealth but tripped over one and smashed three. He hit the floor. Cassidy finished him off. Heidi jumped up onto a statue as a Hood came at her, swinging around it and hitting him from the blind side. Her blow sent him into oblivion, falling and striking his temple against the statue’s inflexible edge. She used her height advantage to jump onto another man’s shoulders and bear him to the ground.