“It fought back,” Luther growled. “And like everything else — it lost.”
Drake pushed him into the apartment, the team fanning out as they entered. A quick search revealed it was empty and that the Chain of Aphrodite was not present.
“Shit.” Drake halted. “All this for bloody nothing.”
“We’d best move,” Alicia said. “Or prepare a warm welcome for the Tempest boys.”
“Maybe they’ve already been,” Kenzie said.
“Nah, they’d have smashed this place to pieces.”
“Agreed,” Drake said. “And see there? The remains of Doukas’ breakfast. I think he left this place of his own free will.”
“Hey.” Luther walked over to the phone and switched the answering system on, replaying the last message. It was a brief request that Doukas help out for an extra few hours at the museum that afternoon.
Drake shook his head. “It’s never easy, is it?”
“Could be just what we need,” Mai said. “Kill the answering machine and then let’s head over to the museum. Hopefully, we’ll get this man to ourselves.”
Drake glared at her. “You had to say it, didn’t you? Now we’re gonna have a fight on our hands.”
Luther grinned as he deleted all the messages, outsize digits threatening to smash the plastic every time they pressed down. “Music to my ears.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hayden held on, every muscle tensed, as the helicopter swung from side to side, trying to evade errant gunfire. The train raced along the track below them, a fearsome, destructive metal titan already frighteningly close to being out of control. Bullets resounded off the chopper’s exterior despite the pilot’s dexterity, and one window was smashed. In truth, the chopper’s presence had distracted the terrorists from their bloody deeds, but Hayden knew it wouldn’t last.
“They ain’t blowing up that train,” she said, “until they find the dagger. Get us down there.”
The pilot dived. Terrorists screamed up at them, brandishing weapons and hurling captives from one man to the other. When a captive objected or fought back they threw them off the top of the speeding train, laughing whilst they did it.
“Let me lie down,” Molokai snarled murderously. “You don’t know it but my main job used to be sniper, just like the man on the island. It’s another reason I wear all this crap; I’m used to it.” All the time he was shifting and rolling, getting comfortable, lining up his shot.
The terrorists yelled and waved the chopper away. Hayden could only see their eyes over brightly colored scarves, their faces were obscured and they wore bulging jackets. It was hard to tell their gender, let alone identify faces. When one terrorist dropped to a knee and lined a Beretta up with their cockpit, Luther opened fire. His shot took the terrorist high in the forehead, avoiding the vest, and released a gout of blood. The man toppled backward instantly, his gun flying away, the body then flopping off the top of the train. His companion looked aghast, then turned and ran, throwing his gun up into the air and leaving a captive behind.
Hayden listened to the chatter.
“This train is thundering toward Dallas!” a sensationalist reporter eagerly told his loyal followers.
“Authorities are gathering,” another said. “Trying to work out a plan to stop this train in its tracks as the minutes tick down.”
“Passengers tell of terrorists with bomb vests, handguns and knives,” someone else stated. “Photographs from inside the train are flooding social media. The terrorists don’t appear to care. The challenge has been issued and now America must watch helplessly to see what happens to the train, its passengers and crew, and the city of Dallas.”
On quieter channels, Cambridge reported without emotion: “The ideas being floated range from ludicrous to extreme. Someone is trying to talk them into blowing the train off the tracks.”
Hayden shook her head sadly. “Have they mentioned us?”
“You’re barely on their radar right now, but somebody did order that the damn idiot reporters should be cleared from the airspace. You don’t have long.”
“We’re ready to go. Can you help us?”
“Whitehall has as many feeds as possible up and running. Train CCTV, piggybacking from the helicopter’s Wi-Fi, television broadcasts, social media photograph and video uploads, and more. You just have to go in fast before the suits cock it all up.”
Hayden again instructed the pilot to dive for the top of the speeding train, and watched as the helicopter’s skids came closer and closer. The team prepared themselves in the standard manner and then hooked their arms around anything sturdy to get ready for the coming impact.
“Can you land this thing on top of a moving train?” Molokai asked.
“Dunno, bud, but I’m willing to give it a go.”
“That’s inspiring.”
Hayden closed her eyes briefly as the chopper nosedived toward the train and then struck its ungiving surface.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They found the archaeologist, Adrian Doukas, without too much trouble, but offered up no challenge. First, they wanted to scout the area. The civilian jackets they’d thrown over their military gear, whilst helping them blend in, shouldn’t have passed careful scrutiny, but the meagre security on the door was bordering on absurd. Five-strong, they spent twenty minutes scouring the corridors, exits and various floors before putting Luther on exterior guard duty and Mai on Doukas-watch.
A large part of their attentiveness and prudence was due to the ongoing terrorist situation in Texas. Hayden was a big part of it, and Drake didn’t want something on the same scale occurring here. Athens National History Museum had recently been the target of a bad attack and Greece didn’t need another.
Luther took seven minutes to report in.
“All clear out here. I’ve checked the perimeter twice. It’s gonna be hard even for me to keep an eye on all three entry points though. I could do with help.”
Drake wondered if he was hoping for Mai, and sent Kenzie out. Both he and Alicia then headed down a bright corridor to where Doukas worked. Mai was seated on a bench outside the room, reading a brochure. She stood up when they walked past.
“He speaks English,” she said. “I heard him relating a story to a tourist.”
They had expected as such. Such well-traveled archaeologists usually spoke at least passable English.
“We’re American agents,” Drake told Doukas for simplicity, his brain focused on a dozen relevant concerns at that moment.
“You are?” Doukas peered at them. “You don’t look it, nor sound it.”
Drake acknowledged Alicia and Mai. “Aye, ya got that right. Bad start. Listen, let me get straight to the point. You’re in danger. We’re here to help. Problem is — we need the Chain of Aphrodite to make that happen.”
Doukas stared fixedly, trying not to let an ounce of emotion leak into his face. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“The tomb of the gods,” Drake said quickly. “It was destroyed, but not before several archaeologists like yourself removed some smaller, more collectable items. Well, somebody found out. And that somebody wants them. All of them. They’ll happily kill you and a hundred others to get just one of them.”
Doukas looked scared, but still didn’t cooperate. “If that were in any way true I would go to jail.”
“Look, pal, we’re not here to arrest you. Just tell us where the chain is, and then disappear. As I said, people are coming to kill you.”
Alicia unzipped her jacket then, sweeping the folds aside to show Doukas her weaponry. Mai followed suit. The archaeologist swallowed heavily.
“I heard… I heard this from another man, third-hand really…” He paused.