The Amber Secret

by David Leadbeater

  Bodie stared at them. “Surely the Bratva already have everything they will ever need . . .”

  Carl shrugged and then waved his hands. “We may not need you,” he said. “But we are careful men who enjoy options. Your friends can let you through now. Bring the statue.”

  Both Heidi and Cassidy held their ground, reluctant to trust the Russians, but Bodie pulled the statue from the redhead’s grip. He shouldered his way through the group into open space, feeling as if the weight of worlds had been lifted from his shoulders—the burden of worry for his friends, for himself, coupled with a new feeling of freedom.

  “Agreed.” He handed Aslan the statue, who then passed it along to Carl. “Are we done here?”

  “We are.” Nikolay spoke for his brother, who was lost in the statue and the memories it represented. “You may go.”

  Bodie let out a huge sigh of relief, turned, and smiled at Heidi, Cassidy, and the rest of the team. Finally, they could move forward.

  And that was when gunfire exploded inside the building, the sound of dozens of automatic weapons destroying the stillness both inside and out. Bodie felt the terrifying sense of betrayal just as the Bratva opened fire on an unseen enemy. Someone else had crashed the party.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Cassidy collapsed to the floor. Bodie dived down alongside her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, you fool. I’m just ducking.”

  Bodie rolled away. Gunn and Jemma were on their knees. Yasmine was crouched down but staring at the entrance door, the sunlight that streamed through it, and the shadows that bordered it. Not the Bratva. Bodie knew that. Even distracted he’d registered that the Russians hadn’t started the firefight. Two Bratva soldiers had already fallen, and the rest were returning fire. Aslan was shouting at the top of his voice, ordering his men to guard the brothers. The heads of the Bratva were to be saved at all costs.

  Bodie already knew the best cover inside lay to the left side of the building. He’d noted it on arrival. A collection of old desks, filing cabinets, collapsed timbers, and two old outboards lay scattered across an area of twenty square feet. Bodie had also spied a pile of tools that might yield at least one makeshift weapon.

  “Move,” he cried out.

  The Bratva retreated toward the rear of the building, firing constantly to cover their bosses’ escape. Another soldier had collapsed under fire, making three in total, but the remaining men stayed in control, backing away. The new figures at the building’s front door fanned out, slipping through shadows. Bodie rolled again and then crab walked as fast as he was able, approaching the left side. The gunfire was unrelenting, echoing from wall to wall, riddling the already-spoiled timbers with ragged holes.

  The interlopers were closing in. Only a minute had passed since the attack had started. Miraculously, none of Bodie’s team had been hurt. But they were bunched up, defenseless. They were ideal target practice.

  “Who the hell are these guys?” he asked.

  “No clue,” Heidi said. “But they haven’t hit us yet, so we might as well run.”

  Bodie cast a last glance at the Bratva—Carl and Nikolay were being bundled through an opening in the back wall—and then they ran, heads down, toward the meager cover. Everyone arrived together. Bodie rooted out a hammer and a crowbar from the mass of detritus, shaking his head.

  “I don’t fancy our chances.”

  “We’ve faced worse,” Cassidy grunted.

  Bodie hefted the crowbar. “You’re mistaking us for SEAL Team Seven, love.”

  He counted four enemies closing in and another four still at the front doorway. Four more had pursued the Bratva. Bodie was aware his team was outflanked, outgunned, and outnumbered, but he retained hope simply because they hadn’t been shot yet.

  “Time to get the hell outa here.”

  Using the clutter of upturned desks and filing cabinets as cover, Bodie yelled at his team and charged headlong toward the nearest wall. It was an all-or-nothing gamble, but their situation was desperate. It felt like they were being hunted for sport by men who knew they had no weapons and nowhere to go. He picked the weakest spot he could see in the rotting timber wall and hurled himself at it.

  The timbers broke under impact, snapping off and falling away. Bodie plunged through into daylight, hit the dirt, and then rolled, ending up on his knees, facing the way he had come.

  The hole he’d created was barely large enough for him to fit through, but then Pantera crashed through, widening it, tearing timbers away to left and right. He staggered and fell as he came through, ending faceup on the ground. Bodie rose to his feet, still holding on to the crowbar, feeling the sharp pain of splinters and light cuts on the backs of his hands and arms. In another moment both Heidi and Gunn came through, leapt over Pantera, and rushed toward him.

  Bodie cast around. The boatyard was enormous, but the path to the exit was clearly delineated. Problem is, he thought, it’s undoubtedly guarded too. He saw a narrow track between two enormous hulking wrecks and directed Heidi toward it. “Go, go, I’ll watch your back.”

  Bodie helped Pantera along and then watched Lucie and Jemma leap through the rough gap. More timbers fell away. He saw Cassidy on the other side, practically shoving Yasmine through before following so closely she might as well have ridden piggyback.

  “Move your ass, Flash!” she cried. “They’re not handing out toothpaste.”

  Bodie backpedaled, staring grimly as an odd-looking weapon was thrust out of the hole. It had all the appearances of a rifle, but the barrel was different. A man’s head came next, and then Bodie turned his back on the gun and chased after Cassidy.

  To the left, a shout went up.

  More assailants, he saw, who, judging by the weapons they held, were part of the same crew. He counted five, stumbled on an unseen rock, and then turned his head forward. The boatyard was in chaos, but he had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. The roar of two motorbike engines cut through the air. Bodie heard a shout from behind, someone yelling at them to stop. He ran even harder, gaining the narrow trail between large boats a second after Cassidy.

  The gap was so constricting it felt a little claustrophobic. The boats towered high, one on top of another, all the way ahead. The path was overgrown and strewed with garbage. Bodie saw the top of an abandoned crane to the right, a boat hanging from its rusting jaws.

  At the front of the pack, Heidi suddenly shouted, “They’re coming this way too!”

  Bodie swore. When he focused, he could see quite far ahead. Two attackers were motoring up the path on small dirt bikes. They wore black helmets and motorcycle jackets and carried standard handguns.

  Heidi turned tail. There was nowhere to go; the boats were too closely crowded. Bodie was very aware there were over half a dozen men closing in from behind.

  “You have to take them down in front,” he shouted.

  He saw Heidi nod, her face grim. The motorcyclists swerved to a stop in front of her. Their tires kicked up a surge of dirt toward her. Before the man could leave his seat, Heidi had grabbed hold of his shoulders and used every ounce of strength to shove him against the hull of the nearest boat. The noise of his spine striking wood was dull but satisfying. The bike toppled, and the man cursed heavily. The second man leapt clear of his bike, but then Bodie’s attention was diverted entirely away from the fight.

  What the hell was that?

  Timbers were snapping again, but this was a sound far deeper and more ominous than any smashed wall. It was the sound of something incredibly heavy shifting, coming apart. Bodie saw the big boat that the biker had hit; the timbers that held it in place had shattered, years and years of decay exposed by the impact, and now the entire boat was listing to the side. Not only that, but the one resting on top was moving too, transferring weight as the one beneath it collapsed.

  The process would only gain speed. Bodie cried out a warning, then shoved Yasmine and Lucie past him, locking eyes with Cassidy.


  Nowhere to go.

  To make matters worse, the insecure boats were sliding into those beside them. The entire area around the relic hunters was shifting, turning more treacherous by the second. Bodie backpedaled as a chunk of rotted hull crashed down near Heidi, cutting her off from the second biker. Fear crossed her features, and she started to run toward Bodie, urging on those in front of her.

  Bodie ran. Menacing groans and creaks came from his right, where decomposed wood and rusted metal warped and buckled. He reached the last boats and dashed out into space, again coming face-to-face with their attackers. The breath he heard so close to his right ear belonged to Pantera, and Cassidy was close to his left. The rest crowded behind. A horrendous grinding sound split the air as four boats collapsed along the path they had just escaped. Two vessels that had been loaded on top came crashing down. Particles struck their backs, a debris-and-dust whirlwind. Gunn folded, struck by flying timber, but didn’t collapse. Holding a hand in the air, he managed to say, “I’m okay.”

  Bodie paused behind half a boat and stared at their enemies, the same four men they had encountered inside the building. “Let’s attack these bastards.”

  Lucie stared back in horror. “Are you crazy?”

  “It’s that or we let them get closer, and then we’re at their mercy anyway.”

  “Fair point.” Heidi grabbed a length of pipe just as Pantera picked up a thick, jagged piece of timber.

  “Stay behind us,” Bodie said, motioning at Gunn, Jemma, and Lucie. “We ready?”

  They were. Bodie abandoned cover, buoyed by two things—only four men faced them, and despite their guns-up stance, none of them had opened fire. He waved the crowbar and charged, rapidly closing the gap to twelve and then eight feet. Heidi was at his side, Pantera a step behind.

  It was then, as he came closer, that he overheard a few snatches of the attackers’ comms chatter.

  “. . . in sight. Target clear. Should we engage?”

  “Engage now. Take them down.”

  Fingers tightened on triggers. Bodie dived headlong and yelled out a warning. Even as he did, he realized that these weapons were not quite right. Something different . . .

  Then he hit the ground and rolled into the legs of one man, toppling him. When he folded, Bodie swung with an elbow, catching him in the right cheek. The man flinched. Bodie saw Cassidy grab hold of another attacker, lifting him off his feet. He grabbed hold of his opponent’s rifle, forcing the barrel down toward the ground, and delivered a headbutt. There was a grunt of pain and then a headbutt in sharp reply. Bodie reeled, head ringing. Fleetingly, he took in the surrounding scene. Jemma and Gunn and Lucie were down, crawling along the ground, but they were practically flat on their faces. Gunn held a yellow-feathered dart in one hand, regarding it with an accusatory glance. Pantera lay on his back, a similar yellow dart sticking out of his chest. Cassidy, still standing, heaved her opponent off his feet so that he fell back onto his spine, crying out in agony.

  Then she whirled and half stumbled as a yellow dart struck her neck.

  Bodie warded his attacker off with one raised hand, the other still clinging onto the rifle. Now he could see one of the men diverting his attention toward him as Heidi struggled with another, losing her grip on the man’s gun and falling away. As she fell, she kicked out, but her blows weren’t enough to fell him. Mercilessly, he aimed the barrel of his weapon down at her.

  What happened here? How did they know about this meeting? What the hell do they want with us? Who . . .

  The questions flashed through his brain a moment before the dart struck his heart. There was no pain, no shock, no sensation at all. Bodie wondered for a second if the man had missed, but then something warm and overwhelming swam up to his brain.

  Bodie’s vision clouded. The last thing he saw was two figures standing over him, one talking into a radio.

  The last thing he heard was: “Sir, we have the relic hunters.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bodie came to consciousness and was immediately aware of a thick odor. Engine oil and mold, with a dank, cloying undertone. His head throbbed so painfully that he closed his eyes again, searching his memory for a clue as to what had happened.

  Then it hit him. He sat up too fast. The room swam. The heavy aroma continued to assault his senses, and he fought down nausea. Bodie tried to breathe and took a slow look around.

  They had been dumped unceremoniously, it seemed, onto a dirty garage floor. Dark shapes stood to left and right, vehicles in a state of semirepair, mostly shadows under the dull glow of a single ceiling light. He took a moment to count the other figures that lay around him—oddly there was one too many.

  Bodie wondered if he was still under the influence of whatever drug they’d used back at the boatyard. His head felt fuzzy; his vision swam. The others started stirring. Bodie gave them a few seconds before explaining what he could see.

  A minute later, Cassidy was on her feet. “We should search this place. Find out where the hell we are.”

  Bodie nodded and then wished he hadn’t. “First, though . . .” He indicated the extra figure in their midst. “Any guesses?”

  The figure was dressed in dark clothes—old jeans and a heavy jacket. Even from a few feet away, Bodie smelled an unwashed stench emanating from him. His hair hung limply, speckled with dirt and dust. Jemma, who was closest, reached out to shake him but then flinched away. “Wow, he needs a bath.”

  “We’re locked inside a small auto repair shop,” Cassidy said, returning from her recce. “Windows are small and grubby, but I can see a few houses and other businesses out there. Their names are not written in English. I see a road. The sun’s shining. And the door’s heavy steel; I guess we could break a window—”

  Pantera rose, rubbing his bald head. “I’ll take a look at the door.”

  Bodie knew that if anyone could use their skills to escape this room, Pantera was up there with the best of them. He climbed to his feet and brushed himself off.

  “I don’t get it,” Heidi was saying. “Why are we here? The Bratva were satisfied. Who were those other guys?”

  Bodie didn’t have the answers. All he knew was that his association with the Bratva had grown more complicated. He now owed them a debt for lifting the blood feud and worried that when the time came, he might not be able to deliver. In addition, he couldn’t have arranged the meet without the CIA’s help—which put the relic hunters in their debt, also. The team’s lives were becoming more complex by the day.

  “Give that guy a shove, Gunn,” Bodie said, referring to the dusty stranger. “He might know what’s going on.”

  The computer geek frowned in distaste but crawled over to the anonymous figure and reached out. Right then, the figure sat bolt upright. Gunn let out a small shriek and lurched away. Cassidy grinned at the youngest member of the team.

  “Classic Gunn,” she said. “Scared of everything that doesn’t connect to a keyboard.”

  “Yeah?” Gunn replied. “Have you seen yourself lately?”

  Bodie eyed the stranger closely. His face was, not surprisingly, dirty, his forehead streaked with soil. His eyes were the only bright thing about him—piercingly blue, like sapphires shining under a shroud.

  “What . . . what happened to me?” he muttered in what sounded like an Italian accent. “Where am I?”

  “We were hoping you might throw some light onto that,” Heidi said, scraping straightened fingers through her curls to remove the loose grime.

  “I don’t . . . remember. I . . . but they have my family!”

  Bodie shared a glance with Heidi. “Who has your family?”

  “I don’t know,” the man admitted. “Men. Bad men from the internet. Wait—you could be working with them! Do not talk to me.” Quickly, he shuffled farther away.

  Bodie watched as Pantera evaluated the locked door. “If they have your family, mate, they don’t need us to work on you.”

  The man considered that and then nodded, holding a palm to
his temple. “Yes, yes, you are right. But it’s so hard to remember everything. It all . . . clenches . . . right here.” He tapped his head.

  “Clenches? Like stress?”

  “Wait.” The man stared at Bodie. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

  “That,” Lucie said, sitting propped up against the wheel of a car, “is the best question yet.”

  “The people who messed with us took a huge risk,” Heidi said, feeling around her pockets for credentials. Bodie knew she’d carried them to the Bratva meeting, staying as transparent as possible—the Russian soldiers had been aware of everything. Finally, she shook her head. They’re gone.

  Bodie was about to speak when the garage door rattled. At first, he thought Pantera was trying something, but then he saw the older man step back, still scratching his bald head. Bodie’s senses came alert, and he stepped behind one of the cars. Cassidy grabbed a torque wrench as a weapon.

  “Get ready,” Bodie said.

  Bodie waited as the door screeched outward, its bottom edge grinding on stones. A moment later he counted ten figures entering one by one. Five carried weapons and fanned out while the others waited in a group just inside the door. Bodie took careful note that this time, the guns were equipped to fire bullets, not darts.

  One of the unarmed men waved a hand. “We want to talk now. You will have many questions, I am sure. Come forward.”

  Bodie saw no reason to remain hidden. The speaker was about six feet tall with a ponytail. A network of scars crisscrossed his face. He was slim, but the T-shirt he wore revealed an abundance of stringy arm muscle and several faded tattoos.

  “Why are we here?” Heidi stepped in front of a car, facing the speaker. “Who are you?”

  “I am Gurka. We”—he indicated the four unarmed figures at his side—“are known by the alias R24. Meet Belenko, Dudyk, Vash, and Nina.”

  Bodie saw by Heidi’s face that she knew exactly who R24 was. It didn’t appear to be a good thing. He joined her in the center of the garage, studying the members of R24 and the positions of the men with guns.