The Illuminati Endgame (The Relic Hunters 7)

by David Leadbeater

  “We’ll do a quick reccy,” one said in a north London accent. “Make sure it’s all clear.”

  With that they crept away, slinking among the stones. Bodie felt a bit redundant. A quick look at Cassidy found her looking the same way, and Jemma gave him a bored expression.

  Standing there, though, in the shadow of Stonehenge, he sensed a dark and mysterious energy in the air, a profound and unknowable power. The stones, the setting, the very earth emitted an enigmatic strength, something that set his nerves tingling.

  “It’s odd,” Yasmine said. “But there is something here. I doubt you’d feel it during the day, surrounded by hordes of snap-happy tourists, but right now,” she shivered, “the night feels alive.”

  Bodie saw a faint light at the eastern horizon, the false dawn. Salisbury Plain lay around them like an alien landscape, shaded in silver. Lucie bit her lips in anticipation as Pang’s team returned.

  “All clear,” came a muttered report.

  “Then let me at it.” Lucie strode through them, reached the first huge stone and paused to touch it. Bodie was at her side a moment later. Lucie was smiling. Bodie stretched out a hand and touched the next stone, feeling the smooth hard surface. If he’d been expecting something—a faint charge, a trembling, a tremor of suppressed force he was disappointed.

  “It’s a stone,” Cassidy whispered in his ear. “Get moving.”

  He followed Lucie, noting that Pang and Heidi were close behind, not openly watching them but not straying far either. Ahead, Lucie drew out her phone and strode painstakingly to the exact spot she’d already plotted.

  “Shovel,” she said, holding out her hand like a surgeon.

  Yasmine took the small tool from Butcher and handed it over. Lucie started to dig a hole close to the center of Stonehenge’s inner circle.

  “It feels wrong,” Bodie said.

  “It is wrong,” one of the English agents said. “This is sacred ground.”

  Right then, as Bodie saw the first flash of a true dawn creep above the horizon, a bank of storm clouds to the left caught his eye. Forks of lighting speared from the dark toward the ground, a silent storm centered on a tiny area. Bodie saw no sign of rain, just flickering silvery bolts marching across the skies. A whiff of ozone saturated the air, which was suddenly as fresh as anything Bodie had ever known.

  “I’m done,” Lucie said, standing up.

  Bodie gazed at the standing stones surrounding them, the ancient monuments rearing like great gods and sentinels from a time when values were very different. He didn’t move a muscle, because he felt deep down that any kind of movement right then might be disrespectful.

  Lucie nudged him. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

  “This place,” Bodie said. “It got to me for a second. It’s extraordinary.”

  “Yes, there’s that sense of ancient, silent mystery that shrouds a lot of places. I think it’s because they belong to a different time and exist despite modern advancements. They’ll still be there when we’re all gone.”

  “Not the stones,” Jemma said.

  “Maybe not, but then again maybe this site isn’t just about the stones,” Lucie said.

  Bodie understood. Bit by bit, the whole team rounded up and turned back toward the visitor center. Spreading crimson rays fell across the landscape as the new dawn flourished. Sunlight touched the higher edges of the stones, playing with the shadows that had claimed a temporary ownership through the night, but Bodie was done with Stonehenge. The tenth and final sanctum had been successfully visited, enabling them to move on. Now they could put all their energies into finding the crucible.

  Passing the final stone, he studied the lay of the land in front of him. He pulled up short. Something was wrong with it.

  Something out of place.

  Gradually, the creeping, silent crowd emerged from the pool of darkness still covering the plains. There was a great spread of them, an army, Bodie thought, as they paced forward. He saw a line of Hoods stretching from east to west backed by mercenaries carrying guns and, behind them, even people dressed in civilian clothes.

  At the head of the army stood a tall, striking redhead dressed in a tight black robe and carrying a dagger. By her side was Nimrod, the leader of the Hoods. An M4 Carbine rested easily across his shoulder.

  Pang, his CIA agents and the British Intelligence officers all stopped as if they’d been hit by a sheet of ice. Pang sent a quiet message back to the men they’d left on lookout at the visitor center but received no reply.

  “How do you want to play this?” a man asked.

  “Loud,” Pang growled. “Very fucking loud.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Bodie couldn’t believe his eyes.

  They were spread out across the plain, a force at least fifty strong, some carrying high-powered weapons, others holding knives, baseball bats and hammers. They gave the appearance of Hoods, sent by Bacchus and led by Adelaide and Nimrod, who had cobbled together every supporter they could and ordered them to fight. It was a mishmash, but it was a deadly, intimidating mishmash.

  Cassidy caught the flavor of the moment by whistling and growling, “That’s a fucked-up crew if ever I saw one.”

  Adelaide raised a hand and pointed it toward them. The Hoods started running, the mercs keeping pace. The civilians came last, cursing and waving their weapons as if they’d had one too many crazy tablets for breakfast.

  Pang took charge. “Take ’em out,” he said.

  “What?” One of the British Intelligence officers glared. “We’re gonna have to get clearance.”

  “I’m your clearance,” Pang said. “Either you start shooting or they’re gonna tear us apart.”

  It was a strong argument. It was reinforced when two of the lead mercs opened fire, on the run. Their wild bullets didn’t physically bother Pang and his men, but they drove home a solid mental point.

  “Move,” Pang said.

  Bodie retreated behind the nearest standing stone, a four-meter-tall megalith. New sunlight flashed across the plain from the east, crimson rays irradiating the landscape. Wild and terrifying screams stung the air. Gunshots rang out.

  The Hoods, clad in their menacing cloaks and with their faces concealed, ran in a capable group. Adelaide and Nimrod slowed to let their soldiers take the brunt of the initial attack.

  Kneeling behind the stones, Pang and his men took aim and picked off attackers. They were good, identifying a target and firing two short bursts to bring it down.

  People collapsed to the ground and went sprawling. The Hoods clung to the darker areas: the dips and valleys along the grass and the shadows. The mercs fell to their stomachs and fired back. The civilians scrambled for cover.

  Their fire was returned, bullets pinging among the standing stones. Lucie cringed at the foot of one, as rock fragments covered her. Bodie put a hand on the one he was sheltering behind. Gunfire laced the air around Stonehenge.

  “Those fuckers,” Lucie hissed uncharacteristically. “This is a spiritual, five-thousand-year-old shrine!”

  Bodie agreed. Another salvo of bullets bombarded the stones, many passing through but several striking the upright trilithons closer to the middle of the circle.

  Pang and his men returned fire, standing, kneeling or lying down for cover, using the stones. So far, no one had taken an injury.

  Bodie waved at Pang. “We need guns.”

  “Do I look that stupid?”

  Bodie opened his mouth to object, but Cassidy got a barb in first. “All day long, asshole.”

  “Listen,” Bodie shouted. “We need to protect ourselves. Protect the ore.” He nodded at Lucie and her backpack. “It’s all for nothing if they kill us or grab her.”

  Heidi was already scrambling to Pang’s side and grabbed his wrist. “Give them something.” She ducked as a spray of bullets peppered the stone they were hiding behind. “He’s right.”

  “We’re a team,” Bodie said. “Until we beat these bastards.”

  Pang
pulled a face but held back any comment. He reached behind his back and plucked out a small Glock that had been nestling in his waistband.

  Heidi reached into her boot and came up with a matching weapon.

  “Nine .40 caliber rounds,” Pang said. “And one spare mag. Be frugal.” He threw his Glock to Bodie. Cassidy caught Heidi’s.

  “Me too,” Yasmine shouted from behind another stone.

  Pang swore and ordered a CIA agent to surrender his backup, which he threw at Yasmine. The Moroccan plucked it out of the air before it struck her face. All the while, their enemies crept closer.

  Bodie took a swift glance at the scene, wondering if there might be a different way out.

  The first thing to register was the contingent of Hoods creeping along to their right, seeking to outflank them. Still clad in darkness, they crept low to the ground in a low, slithering huddle. The mercs were closer, the civilians chancing it behind them, alternatively lying flat and then sprinting in short bursts. It became obvious to Bodie that Pang’s men were almost entirely targeting the mercs: the only enemy actively firing back at them.

  He understood. Nobody wanted to shoot at a hammer-toting civilian, and the Hoods weren’t threatening. But that kind of thinking wasn’t going to bring the Illuminati to their knees.

  This was. He fired three times into the cluster of Hoods, knowing they were the real threat. Yasmine joined him.

  The moment the bullets impacted, the Hoods scattered and charged the circle of stones from the north, stopping only when they found cover behind the oblong columns. Three British agents kept them pinned down with automatic fire.

  Bodie shouted that they’d been flanked. The mercs laid down a hail of fire, the standing stones rattling as bullets smashed into their exposed sides.

  A British agent died as he peered out at the wrong time, his blood painting the rock to his left. Bodie figured he’d hit at least two Hoods.

  “This isn’t gonna work,” Cassidy said. “We can’t just hope and see who runs out of people first.”

  “They’re preparing an attack,” Bodie said. “A proper attack. They have to be.”

  The Hoods fired enough rounds to make their presence known, nothing more, the rounds poorly aimed. The mercs and their civilian followers crept closer. The gaps were closing. Bodie felt the ring of safety dwindling even as the sun finally reached him with a surge of warmth.

  “We’re retreating,” Pang said. “This way.”

  They were planning to move south, away from the Hoods and to the left of the mercs, leaving the inner circle to the Illuminati. It was a defensive move, but by far the safest. Pang led the way, dashing from stone to stone as his men and women covered his movements with bursts of fire. Heidi, Butcher and others followed.

  Bodie grabbed Lucie’s arm. “Steady but quickly,” he said. “You know the way.”

  Lucie nodded. Bodie was about to make his first move when a rush of movement caught his eyes.

  The Hoods were attacking.

  They came in a long row, separated, through the northern edge of Stonehenge, their cloaks and hoods hiding any exposed flesh, an assortment of weapons in their hands. Bodie guessed twenty feet separated them.

  At the same time the mercs opened fire, their weapons set to fully automatic and targeted ahead of the running Hoods to pin down their enemies.

  “They’re coming in for the kill,” Cassidy said.

  Bodie nodded. “They don’t just want the ore. They want all of us dead.”

  He had six bullets and a spare mag. Yasmine and Cassidy were in a similar situation. They stood behind the stones, assailed from their left but protected by the rocks, and aimed their handguns as the Hoods approached.

  Bodie opened fire. A Hood collapsed. The distance closed to ten feet. Bodie backed up but couldn’t go too far. The Hoods aimed their own guns and opened fire.

  Bodie threw himself headlong, covering Lucie. Cassidy dived forward and rolled at her opponents. Yasmine had no alternative but to step around the nearest stone, shielding her from the Hoods but placing her in clear view of the mercs.

  Who chose that moment to attack in some deliberate, pre-arranged pincer movement.

  They rose from the ground as one and charged, still thirty feet distant. The civilians yelled out a warning shout and followed them.

  Bodie stayed atop Lucie and looked up.

  The Hoods adjusted their aims.

  Cassidy tripped three, who sprawled forward, landing on their faces at full pace.

  Bodie managed to shoot one in the gut.

  It was mayhem, a messy, deadly brawl. Pang and his men had fanned out at the southern end by now and were able to catch the Hoods’ attention with well-placed shots.

  Then the mercs and civilians surged among the high stones and, following them, Adelaide and Nimrod came, their faces eager.

  Bodie rose up to make a stand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Bodie found himself facing two Hoods. The first came at him, nimble and deadly. Bodie, a capable street fighter but no trained combatant, squared up and was considering a straight-up charge when the Hood’s head exploded just three feet in front of him. Bodie flinched. The Hood’s body tumbled to the floor, still twitching.

  The second Hood dived and rolled past Bodie before darting to the nearest stone and taking cover. Bodie was left facing the civilians.

  It was both crazy and surreal. A man wearing a black, three-piece suit, navy tie and golden cufflinks came at him with a gleaming machete. The deadly blade cleaved the air where Bodie’s head had been seconds before.

  Bodie, ducking low, drove two fists into the man’s gut. There was a surprised grunt as the man folded. Bodie rose, kicked out and left his opponent groaning on the ground.

  Another figure filled his vision. This time it was a woman wearing a long dress and a leather jacket. Her hair was blond and tied into two loose buns that looked like an extra set of ears. She wore her jewelry and a snazzy gold watch... and carried a baseball bat studded with nails, which she swung at Bodie’s face.

  He leaned back. The bat skimmed his nose. Bodie jabbed her hard in the throat, watched her collapse, then bent down and threw away the baseball bat. The woman, hands at her throat, kicked out at him. A look on her face spoke of rage, hatred and immense superiority. Bodie finished her participation with a kick to the knee that made her wail.

  Next, two more civilians converged on him, one from each side.

  Bodie was caught in a dilemma. By his count he had four bullets and one spare mag of nine in his gun, but didn’t want to use them against civilians. It was a bizarre mix of emotions. The Hoods, yes, they were trained and enjoyed killing. The civilians... he had the impression they’d been called on at the last minute, rounded up and handed weapons. Yes, they were true to the Illuminati cause, but Bodie doubted they’d ever expected to be fighting the authorities with bats and knives at the center of Stonehenge.

  Luckily for him, they were simple enough to dispatch. The man from the left reached him first and was treated to a fast palm strike that broke his nose and sent him rolling back and forth across the ground in true Neymar fashion.

  The second found his legs taken from underneath him and spun momentarily through the air. He landed heavily on his left arm and let out a pained gasp. Bodie heard something click and thought the man’s shoulder might have come out of the socket.

  He moved on. Gunshots still split the air. Hoods and agents were exchanging fire among the stones. The crimson dawn shot rays of light from the east, illuminating more and more of the landscape by the minute. Bullets struck rock, men and women screamed, and the tall, ancient monoliths stood watch over it all.

  Yasmine had felled three civilians; Cassidy three more. The women turned to take in the rest of the battle. Bodie still stood close to Lucie, who had scrambled to the nearest stone. Jemma held a baseball bat of her own but hadn’t used it yet. Further to the east, Bodie spotted Pang and Heidi crouched behind stones and exchanging fire with the Ho
ods.

  Several agents were down along with half a dozen Hoods. Bodie turned to check the route back to the visitor center.

  It was clear.

  Bodie hesitated. His team were in a good position to escape while Pang and Heidi were pinned down. Seconds passed. Did they have any allegiance to the CIA?

  A Hood targeted Cassidy, forcing her to take cover behind one of the civilians she’d knocked out. The Hood didn’t hesitate on firing three bullets into his own accomplice. Cassidy dropped the unfortunate man and fired back, killing the Hood.

  Bodie gritted his teeth and cursed. He couldn’t run, couldn’t leave the agents to fight this battle alone. Beckoning the others, he waited until they had crossed over to the largest standing stone nearby, achieving some suitable cover.

  “We hit the Hoods from the back,” he said.

  “The way out is clear,” Yasmine pointed out.

  “I know, but this is our fight too. We can’t just run away.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Cassidy said. “We owe nothing to Pang.”

  “Agreed. But we do owe Heidi and those other agents. If they get shot while we run. If we could have helped...” He shook his head. “I don’t want to live with that.”

  “Hey,” Jemma broke in. “Look over there.”

  Bodie followed her gesture. To the north, somewhere around where Lucie had dug their hole to extract the ore, both Adelaide and Nimrod were on their knees, digging. Bodie narrowed his eyes.

  “If we can stop them...”

  “Leave it to us.” Cassidy tapped Yasmine and started out across the circle, the latter leaving her gun with Jemma, seeing that the cat burglar needed it more than she did.

  Bodie moved out of cover too, attentive in case they needed backup, but the Hoods’ attention seemed to be on Pang and his agents.

  “We can’t attack from the back,” Jemma said. “We could get shot by the agents.”

  It was a fair point. They had no way of contacting Pang. Unless... Bodie thought. Maybe... It was worth a try.