The Amber Secret

by David Leadbeater

  “You must be crazy, trying to rob this house.” A disembodied voice floated from a corner of the room. “Old man Ritter will rip your spine out.”

  Bodie’s heart leapt as four armed men stepped out of the shadows, two from the left and two from the right side of the room, with weapons pointed. He hadn’t seen them, but the recesses back there were deep, the darkness thick.

  “Whoa, steady.” He put both hands in the air.

  One spoke: “We have many guests here tonight. Who are you?”

  “We came down here for a dare,” Jemma said quickly. “We are sorry. We took nothing.”

  Her words brought the guards three steps closer. Their guns didn’t waver. Bodie faced their leader, a hard-eyed blond man whose face was carved into a harsh expression.

  The man said, “I hope you are telling the truth. But even that might not save you.”

  “Save us?” Jemma allowed her voice to waver.

  “Take off the masks,” the blond man said.

  Gunn whispered in their ears: “Get ready for Heidi. Five . . . four . . .”

  Bodie shrugged, relaxing the muscles. Cassidy closed the gap between herself and two of the men.

  “Right,” she said reluctantly.

  “Left,” he said.

  Heidi initiated her distraction by throwing a flashbang over the far wall. The sound and the flash were loud and bright enough to make all four guards whip their heads around, giving Bodie and Cassidy a chance to attack.

  Bodie went left as she went right. Jemma hung at the back, reaching for her pistol. Bodie grabbed the barrel of the blond man’s rifle and jerked it straight up. The metal smashed into the man’s face, drawing blood. Bodie used him as a barrier between himself and the second man, who had managed to level his gun. With a yell Bodie ran forward, pushing the first guard into the second and propelling them across the room. They all fought and struggled and collapsed into a heap. Bodie fell between them, reaching desperately for one of the fallen guns.

  No luck. The blond man, face bloody, leveled his barrel right between Bodie’s eyes.

  “Wait. I—”

  The blond man squeezed the trigger.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Deafening noise filled Bodie’s senses. He saw the guard’s finger tighten on the trigger, heard the sound of a gunshot, then saw the blond head jerk back, blood spraying, as the gun flew upward and discharged its own deadly cargo at the ceiling.

  He saw the second guard trapped under the blond’s bulk, the weapon wedged underneath.

  Bodie breathed deeply as Jemma’s voice cut through the chaos. “I got him. Move!”

  He focused on her voice and made his limbs work. In that terrifying instant when the gunshot had rung out, he’d thought he was dead. Energy flooded through his limbs, and the movement of the second guard, struggling underneath the blond man, galvanized him some more. Bodie crawled over and punched him right between the eyes, feeling relief as the man slumped.

  Rising, he surveyed the room.

  Cassidy had already knocked one man to his knees and was fighting another hand to hand. Jemma was breathing heavily, wide eyed, distressed by what she had done. Bodie staggered to her side quickly. Jemma had never killed anyone before.

  “You saved me.” He hugged her, trying to get her moving rather than offering sentiment.

  He pulled; she acquiesced. They passed behind Cassidy, who dealt a heavy blow to her opponent’s right temple. Bodie saw the guy’s legs buckle.

  “Cass, come on!”

  She was already running, face harsh with stress. They ran to the open patio door and squeezed through. Behind them, at least one guard was groaning and reaching for his radio. Time was short. Bodie helped Jemma along until she pushed him away, still holding her gun.

  Cassidy scanned the lawns. “We’re not going to make the wall.”

  To their right, in the direction of the night’s festivities, the music abruptly paused. It was a sudden, striking absence of sound, a warning that Bodie took to be a death knell. Cassidy was right—they weren’t going to reach the wall.

  They kept running, putting some distance between the house and themselves. Cassidy spoke a word of warning just as Bodie saw guards appear around the front corner of the house.

  As they raced across the lawn, spotlights flashed on, flooding the area with light and illuminating their escape. Bodie saw three guards exiting the patio doors to their right.

  “Any ideas?” Cassidy asked.

  “Just one, but it’s a little rash,” Bodie said.

  “Rash is good,” Cassidy said. “I prefer rash to sane any day.”

  “Stay with me, then.”

  Bodie ran for the front of the house, to the left of the oncoming guards. The gap closed quickly. Cassidy and Jemma were a step behind, feet pounding the well-trimmed lawn.

  “You headed for the driveway?” Cassidy asked.

  “There’s no other way out of this place.”

  The partygoers came into view, along with the huge marquees and stage. The team had brought party clothes with them, giving them an option to mingle with the guests, but that option was now dead.

  And so will we be if they catch us, Bodie thought.

  The odds were stacked against them. Guards were converging from two directions, guns in hand, probably refraining from shooting only because the guests were watching. Despite their fast sprint, Bodie saw they would be cut off before they reached the long row of cars.

  He slowed. “Bollocks.”

  “No choice,” Cassidy said. “We’ll plow through them.”

  It was a great attitude, but it wasn’t going to happen. With six guards ahead and three behind and the open expanse of the lawn around them, they were out of options.

  “We can’t just stop,” Jemma agonized. “They’ll just take us to some basement and kill us.”

  Bodie agreed, but sometimes a change of scenery offered new options. The guards were so close now that individual faces could be distinguished. Bodie saw callousness in every expression. Was it worth a firefight out here on the lawn?

  Cassidy would think so. She’d never been a woman who would give in or let herself be taken, but that had been before Cross had died. What would she do now? She halted in front, handgun held loosely by her leg, pointing down. Bodie put a hand on her shoulder.

  “You planning to fight?”

  The guards approached, raising their weapons, shouting in guttural tones, indicating that the team should lie down on the ground.

  “I don’t do well in restraints,” Cassidy answered.

  Bodie saw another option. They couldn’t hope to beat nine armed men. Their only chance lay with the crowd that was gathering around the edge of the lawn, some with phones trained on the scene.

  “Be confident,” Bodie said and started walking toward the people.

  “How the hell is this gonna help?” Jemma asked, at his side.

  “No matter what the guards do, just keep walking.”

  Cassidy strode next to him. They skirted the guards and made a beeline for the crowd. More guards appeared ahead, making a total of twelve. Their leader shouted expletives and raised his gun threateningly, but Bodie kept his eyes to the front and kept walking.

  A guard stepped in front of Cassidy and reached out to make her stop. She grabbed his wrist, dropped her shoulder, and planted him on his back, then continued walking as if nothing had happened. The guard groaned in her wake, and the rest backed off.

  “What’s the plan, Flash?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth.

  “Stay alive for one more second,” he answered. “And then one more.”

  “Been there, done that,” the ex–cage fighter said. “Didn’t enjoy it.”

  The guards gathered, trying to create a barrier between them and the crowd, which was now only ten yards away. Bodie saw a man stalking through the throng, men and women making way for him, and wondered if it might be Ritter himself.

  This is getting riskier by the second.
r />   Some of the guests were fleeing the main building. Panicked screams filled the air. Car headlights were igniting up and down the long row of vehicles. It was only when twin beams flashed across Bodie’s eyeline that he realized someone was speeding straight at them.

  “Hey!”

  He grabbed Jemma and prepared to leap to the side. The guards whirled around, most of them now venting their anger at the oncoming vehicle. In the last few moments, the car’s hood dipped violently under braking, and then the whole left side slewed around as it went into a broad skid.

  A groundswell of soil and stones flew from under its wheels, drowning the guards in a surge of earth. They tried to hide their faces but ended up flinching or falling to their knees. Bodie had already seen Heidi at the wheel and turned his head. The moment the upsurge passed, he was running for doors that had fallen open in the wild slide. With Cassidy and Jemma, he ran past several men with bloody faces and others trying to spit earth from their mouths. Heidi revved the engine. Cassidy dived headlong into the back seat. Jemma lunged right behind her.

  Bodie spun at the last moment, aware that one of the guards was too close for comfort. He was no great fighter, but he ducked his head and lunged hard, smashing his shoulder into the guard’s sternum and heaving him backward. The man was lifted off his feet and came down hard onto his spine. Bodie leapt the last few feet toward the car. He jumped into the front passenger seat just as Heidi slammed her foot down on the gas pedal.

  He hit the seat hard and fell forward against the dash. Heidi performed a slow power slide, guiding the car gracefully until it pointed in the direction in which it had come. Earth was spat out from under the back wheels. Then she let the car shoot forward. Bodie found himself thrown back into the seat once more, thankful for the plush black leather but smacking his head so hard on the headrest that tears filled his eyes.

  Cassidy struggled to sit up in the back as Jemma lost her grip and sprawled into the footwell.

  Heidi kept the momentum up, moving rapidly along the lawn. She threaded the car through the gap where it had been parked and slewed it around so that it faced the far gate, then accelerated again.

  Behind them the crowd divided, men and women running away from the shocking scene. The guards were left staring. Bodie tried to grab hold of the seat to steady himself.

  “Are we done turning for now?” he mumbled into the leather.

  “Strap in, kids. You’ve got ten to fifteen seconds before we hit the gate and then the main road.”

  Bodie just held on tight. “Please, please, don’t flip us.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  A short while later, Bodie sipped coffee and stood near the front window of the safe house, wanting to sit down but unwilling to put pressure on the bruised parts of his anatomy. Heidi’s driving had been reckless, but she had saved their lives.

  “I’m bruised all over,” he’d said when they’d raced clear of the Ritter estate.

  “But you’re alive.” Heidi had grinned at him. “And we have the statue.”

  A good feeling washed through him now. The first part of their plan to get the Bratva off their backs had been accomplished.

  Barely. And now comes the most dangerous part.

  They had contacted Gunn, Lucie, and Yasmine, who had been back at the safe house, and driven back without stopping. Once again secure, they’d arranged to contact the Russian brotherhood. Heidi had suggested they call Jack Pantera and bring him in for his input. Bodie had agreed. Despite retirement, Jack was still one of the best in the business.

  Bodie saw his old mentor park a street away and start walking toward the safe house. “Jack’s on his way,” he said. “Hey, Cass, come here. We can watch and see if he’s lost any of his old talents.”

  Cassidy joined him, and together they followed his progress, discussing aloud what they thought he would do next, when he would check for a tail or study a suspicious passing car, how he checked the progress of a sauntering dog walker. Pantera walked by the property twice and then turned down the path and continued around the back on the third pass. A buzzer sounded. Gunn pressed a button to let him inside.

  Heidi’s phone rang. She checked the screen and then sighed. “I’m gonna have to take this. Someone at the office needs me.”

  Bodie tried not to let any concern enter his expression. The office usually called when they had a new relic to chase. This wasn’t a good time for a new relic. He looked over as Pantera entered the room and offered Bodie a hand.

  “How’s married life, pal?”

  Pantera rubbed anxiously at his bald head. “Don’t even get me started. It seems I’m to blame for everything. From the refrigerator that buzzes too loudly to the mere trickle that is the air-conditioning and the pool that smells of mold . . .” He sighed.

  “You got a pool?” Cassidy feigned indignation. “Hey, Frizzy, I want to lodge a complaint.”

  Pantera hadn’t finished. After the sigh, he put a hand on Bodie’s shoulder. “Haven’t seen you since Eli died, mate. I’m sorry.”

  Bodie swallowed dryly, caught off guard. His mind was still buzzing from the heist. “Ah, thanks, I . . .”

  “Anything you need,” Pantera said. “I’m here.”

  Heidi looked over, but then her speakerphone stopped ringing as her return call was answered. “Someone left a message?” she said.

  “Oh yeah, that was Scottie. I’ll pass you through,” an agent replied.

  As they waited, the rest of the team greeted Jack. Their old boss looked like he wanted to get right down to business, but then Heidi began to speak.

  “Hey, Scottie. What’s the problem? You know I’m with an asset right now.”

  “Sorry, boss, this can’t wait. Something big has come in . . .” He paused.

  The rest of the team focused, listening intently to the call.

  “Ah, crap, that’s bad timing,” Heidi said. “Again. What have you got?”

  “We have a man living in Italy by the name of Dante Caruso. He’s a bit of a relic hunter—nothing on your scale, just a loner picking up scraps to help feed his family. He’s a dreamer, a man who boasts to everyone who will listen that he’s just biding his time, waiting for the ‘big one.’”

  “Oh yeah?” Cassidy chortled. “Aren’t we all?”

  Heidi frowned as Scottie continued. “Caruso’s a well-known figure in his hometown of Siena. He travels far and wide and returns with baubles, trinkets. Three days ago, he came back to Siena following a two-month absence. He returned with no relics but tried desperately to gather a team together—a team he could lead in search of what he called the greatest treasure of them all. He’s not far wrong . . .” Scottie paused for breath.

  Bodie kept moving to counter bruised and stiffening limbs. The urge to devise a plan that would finally rid them of the Bratva menace was incredibly strong. It roiled through his gut like a tubful of hot sauce. And if he knew his team, they would be feeling the same. Cassidy was always eager, chomping at the bit to bring her prowess to bear. Jemma’s active mind would be sorting through scenario after scenario, separating the wheat from the chaff. Gunn’s deft computer expertise was always ready to go. Only Lucie and Yasmine were outsiders in Bodie’s team, Lucie being the historian and Yasmine . . . well, they didn’t know much about Cross’s old flame yet. They had little idea of what she could bring to the table beyond her combat skills and Interpol connections.

  Heidi spoke for everyone in the room. “Get on with it, Scottie. What treasure?”

  “Well, Caruso hit the forums when he failed to muster a team. He put the word out, asking for help, and gave a couple of vague references alluding to his discovery. He mentioned World War Two and something that ‘began in 1701.’ Now any relic hunter worth their salt should recognize these not-so-subtle references?”

  “Is that a question?” Heidi asked, turning to Bodie. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

  Bodie shrugged. “Haven’t a clue, sorry. We have much more important—”

 
; “Oh, but I think he does have a clue,” Scottie said. “If you know your relics, you will know that these two references point straight toward one of World War Two’s greatest mysteries. Which is what happened to the Amber Room.”

  Heidi stared hard at Bodie, but the thief appeared suddenly interested in his coffee mug. The last thing he wanted right now was another confrontation with Heidi when they needed the CIA to help deal with the Bratva.

  “Go on, Scottie,” Heidi said.

  “Several people sent direct messages to Caruso. He answered them with even more candor, telling of a long route through Poland, a train or a plane; he couldn’t remember which. He appears to have some kind of memory issue, though that could be feigned. He also gave them a final, indisputable clue: Catherine Palace, which was the Amber Room’s original location.”

  “So did they form a new relic hunting team?” Jemma asked, rustling sheets of paper with well-laid plans around the table before her.

  “No, no. Nobody took Caruso up on his offer. Most of his personal interactions fizzled out, with some calling him a crackpot, others a charlatan just wasting their time. Mostly because the man’s memory is a little fuzzy. I don’t know why.”

  Bodie tried to hide his annoyance. “I hope you don’t want us to travel to Siena just to see this man.”

  “You couldn’t even if you wanted to. He’s gone missing.”

  Heidi grew attentive. “Missing? Or wandered off?”

  “Missing,” Scottie affirmed. “His family has vanished too. A wife and son. Their house shows signs of a struggle, and . . . his mother-in-law was found dead at the scene. Murdered. Caruso, his wife, and his son were taken just hours after he used the forums.”

  “It’s not our job to find missing persons,” Cassidy said.

  “No, but it is your job to find missing relics. And this is one of the biggest.”

  “Bigger than Atlantis?”

  “They’re still digging Atlantis out of the ocean. The Amber Room, if it exists, would be sitting right in front of you. Ready to reveal to the world.”