Taking things into madness, the two goons drew their own weapons and instantly opened fire. No warning. No aiming. Bullets glanced off the asphalt and perforated a parked car. The cops dived for cover, one lucky, the other not so much. A bullet slammed into the meat of his calf, leaving him prone on the ground.
The Frenchman lined him up with a vicious leer.
The second cop fired now, bullets whizzing past Webb. Both thugs backed away. The second cop was already on the radio, calling for backup. And it would arrive in a hurry, the French assuming this another terrorist incident. Webb was caught in two minds as he was manhandled: stay put or run? Luckily, he knew that he was a coward now. But would these men shoot him in the back?
Doubtful. This mysterious ‘group’ wanted to question him, not kill him. They wanted to know what he’d already discovered. And how.
Taking the biggest chance of his life, he pushed Frenchie and kicked out at Swarthy. Parked cars were everywhere, so he pulled free and ran for one, slipping round the front end. Grating shouts pursued him. He veered away from the cops, spying a side street that ran alongside the station. A bullet zinged past, probably a warning but Webb felt his insides turn to jelly. One more and he’d wet himself, he knew. Head down he continued. The next sound of gunfire was further away as the cops engaged, and already sirens were screaming through the night.
This was his chance.
If he made it fast he’d be on a train before they shut the stations down. The witnesses saw him as a victim, not a perpetrator. The authorities wouldn’t be as fixated on him as they were on the others. One brisk look back revealed that the swarthy man still watched, tracking his progress, but appeared to be pinned down. Webb wanted to grin or give a childish wave, but didn’t dare. Not yet. Only when he was guaranteed safety.
Sirens shrieked closer, beginning to light up the black vault above with their lurid blue flashes. Webb felt for the reassuring packet inside his jacket — the phone and the scroll, carefully wrapped. All was well then. His teeth hurt like hell and his mouth still bled, but he’d cry about that later. First he needed to get on that train.
Inside, the station buzzed with activity, almost everyone ignorant of the events outside. Webb hurried as best he could, still trying to avoid cameras but realizing that particular game was up for tonight. It would take a while for the recognition to hit the right people anyway, and by then…
Webb grinned, spotting the time of the next train out.
Seven minutes. Perfect.
Paris beckoned then, along with the scroll’s third clue. The pure alchemy evidence should be next, the full reveal. Then that could only lead him to greater things.
Le Comte de Saint Germain unraveled.
More treasures. More ciphers. If he could decode the Baconian cipher, around at the time of Leopold and one of the cipher’s associated with the mystery of Saint Germain, then he should be able to at least interpret all the others. All connected with the Count — the Shakespearian code, Merlin, Plato and Columbus. All doors stopped at Saint Germain.
Webb had gambled his life on this.
The fruits of that stake were already paying off.
CHAPTER FOUR
Matt Drake and Alicia Myles were alone, the recent events in New York over a week past, enjoying more than a little R & R.
Drake checked his watch. “It’s getting on for six, love. We have to be at the office for six-thirty.”
“Man like you should be able to ram it home three times before then.”
Drake shook his head at her crudity. “Let’s make it once and make it a good ’un.”
Alicia sniffed haughtily.
Drake jumped atop her naked body. “Owt’s better than nowt, buggerlugs.”
He put Alicia’s lack of further questioning down to his prowess, though in truth she probably understood the Yorkshire slang from being around him so long. He fixed the tall blonde firmly in his thoughts, allowing nothing else to interfere. It had taken them so long to get this far. She was all that mattered now and nothing else was guaranteed.
Nothing.
The bed groaned and so did Alicia. With a feisty shove she had him on his back and then took control for a while, allowing him to spin her over once more for the last few moments. The night outside was darkening as 6 p.m. passed. Raindrops pattered the draped windows, their rattling filling the small apartment. For a while, the two became lost in a different world; free, cheerful and soothing.
When they’d finished, Drake rolled over. “So how was it?”
Alicia rolled onto her side, studying him. “Meh.”
“Oh, thanks. It takes two you know.”
“A team you mean?”
“Well, not necessary a whole—”
“Good, ’cause I was gonna question that, since in my experience…” she paused. “Actually no, I’ll let that one hang.”
Drake was glad she did. One never knew if the spirited southerner was joking or not.
“Speaking of hanging.” She glanced down between his legs.
“Bloody hell, woman, give me a minute.”
“Hey, you got yourself into this.”
“Oh, did I?” He flashed back on Alicia’s explosion during the ghost ships battle, the way she had chosen him to vent upon. “Haven’t we always been ‘in’ this? Together.”
“Bollocks. That’s too deep for me.”
She slapped his right thigh before leaping out of bed, laughing and pulling on some clothes. “C’mon, Drakey. Duty calls.”
He grumbled about having just done his duty as he followed suit, keeping the attire purely civilian as this scheduled meeting at the office was routine, nothing urgent. Following the events of New York, the outing of Robert Price at the very least as a terrorist conspirator, the embarrassment of the CIA, and even harder lessons learned about the state of America’s true defenses, the SPEAR team had a mountain of problems to sort through. Hayden was leading the charge, but the entire team was being called upon to pitch in.
“So long as they don’t ask me to fix any furniture in whatever new office they give us,” Alicia spoke his own worst nightmare, “I’m good. Y’know, I almost wish there was another crisis to get us outta the way.”
“Dahl’s little escapade wasn’t enough?”
Alicia snorted. “Torsty’s vacation? I just love the way he squirms every time I tease him about it.”
“Tease? Alicia, you couldn’t tease if your life depended on it. It comes across as more of a fully-fledged act of war.”
Alicia shrugged. “Whatever.”
Drake echoed her statement in Yorkshire fashion. “Be reet.”
Both laughed, meeting eyes at the foot of the bed in the tiny room and never feeling safer, more content. For a second neither of them moved, happy to let the moment stretch out and mature. It was a rare event for any of the SPEAR team to be able to experience a true moment of pure relaxation. Drake thought that finally, he’d found the person who might help him find those moments more often.
“We ready?”
“Hell yeah.” Alicia eyed the bed. “Round three?”
“Later perhaps.”
“Perhaps, eh? We really do have to work on your vocabulary.”
The couple exited the apartment and the complex close to the Pentagon, heading into work, and not a cloud marred the horizon. Drake saw the great calm now that the rain had stopped and felt it in his emotions too.
The problem was, what came next?
Smyth looked up as Lauren walked through the door. The expression on her face was breezy, innocent, but he knew where she’d been.
“Traffic bad?”
Lauren struggled with an answer. He wondered if she’d lie to him. “It was okay.”
“Thought you’d have been back an hour ago. You remember we have to be at work for half-six?”