At night, none of the buildings shone with the vibrant colors that sunlight unleashed. Instead, everything was dark, save for the streetlights and windows twinkling in the night.
A sudden movement behind her caught her attention. Two lights shifted from the left lane behind a car she’d passed minutes before. The passing vehicle accelerated quickly and then merged in behind Adriana.
She shifted a little to wake herself up, but she didn’t panic. Adriana never panicked. There were times, of course, during her adventures when she’d been filled with concern or been worried to the point of almost becoming irrational, but her lifetime of training had solved that issue.
Her heartbeat remained steady as she kept her eyes flashing back and forth between the road ahead and the car behind. The city began to fade out the window. The darkness of the countryside took over. Stars twinkled brighter with every passing second.
The car behind her, however, didn’t change. They remained a safe distance behind, probably four car lengths, and never wavered.
Adriana knew that was a problem.
The other driver had seemed eager to get around the slower vehicle, but not Adriana. She knew exactly what to do next. Killing the cruise control, she allowed her rental car to slow down by five kilometers per hour. She kept a keen eye on the driver trailing her to see if that would instigate a pass from them, or if they would simply slow down and stay in line.
Her suspicions proved correct when the other driver likewise slowed, matching her speed. She knew that her move would tip her hand in less than a minute when the other driver realized she’d slowed down on purpose. So, she sped back up again, this time accelerating to a speed five kilometers per hour faster than her original speed.
Again, the tail increased and matched her pace, staying right around four to five car lengths behind her.
Adriana swallowed hard and ground her front teeth. Great, she thought. How did I pick up a tail? Who even knows I’m here right now?
The list of people with the correct answer to that question was a short one, and she didn’t like the names appearing on it—one being her father, another Miyamoto. But was there another way to find out where she was? As far as the airport officials knew, she was not Adriana Villa. They likely wouldn’t even know about her true identity, save for a previous trip when she’d used it. Her collection of false papers and passports were updated regularly to make certain she kept her profile as low as humanly possible.
When she met Sean, he’d immediately understood her need for such clandestine tactics, even though she wasn’t part of an international agency as he had been in his previous life. He’d used aliases many times during his missions with Axis, but when Sean left the agency to join the IAA, he left all those identities behind. Or most of them, at least.
Diego Villa had impressed upon her at an early age that trust was a luxury, not a privilege or a right. For her to trust someone with the truth could mean her undoing. Throughout most of her life—indeed, all of her adult life—Adriana had dipped in and out of foreign countries while going by names created from thin air, as far as she knew. It had been beyond habitual. It became normal for her. Only later in life had she realized that her normal was far different.
But it was that sense of normal, those instincts that had been bred into her from an early age, that now kept her completely calm while they hunted her.
A second car emerged from behind the one following her and cut into the passing lane. She watched intently in the side mirror as the second vehicle hurried to catch up. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that this one was going to simply pass her by and continue on into the night. A few drivers here and there at this hour was one thing. But three in such a brief span, and with two clearly intent on breaching the speed limit? What could their hurry be?
Adriana peered into the mirror, careful to watch the lane in front of her. She already knew how the attack would happen. They would use a swoop-and-squat move. One car would drive around. The other would pull up close behind, then merge over to the left lane, effectively cornering her. Then the one in front would slam on the brakes, forcing her to brake and probably swerve into the other lane. Except there would be a car there. The other vehicle would slam into her, forcing her off the road, and with brakes applied she would lose control and careen into the ditch.
Right on cue, the car behind her sped up to match the pace of the one catching up on the left.
She knew there would only be a second, maybe two, to make her move. The car on the left passed. She kept its occupants in her vision without looking directly at them on the off chance they decided to shoot at her while driving. That wouldn’t be a first.
Her relief was short-lived as the other sedan sped past. She knew there would be no turn signal before they merged. The other vehicle, as expected, cut into the left lane behind the other. As the first car in line merged right, Adriana steered the wheel gently to the left. Her timing had to be perfect. At this speed, performing a maneuver like this was dangerous for all involved. But she had the element of surprise, and the element of control.
She stepped on the gas and twisted the wheel.
The front bumper didn’t need to do much. It rubbed against the back corner of the first vehicle’s bumper and immediately sent the car into a fishtail.
The driver slammed on their brakes—first mistake—and over-corrected, which was the second and fatal mistake.
The sedan slid sideways for a second. Adriana watched as if in slow motion as the vehicle skidded fully sideways until the tires bit into the asphalt. Then it lifted off as though an invisible giant hand had flipped it.
Adriana’s attention shifted immediately to the second car still approaching on her left. She knew the sudden and unexpected turn of events would momentarily distract the driver, and they would have a slower than normal reaction to her next move.
She stepped on the brakes and cut the wheel hard to the left again. Through the tinted windows, she could see the passenger in the front of the second car raise a pistol, but it was too late. The Jaguar slammed into the other car and plowed it off the road and onto the shoulder.
The driver was able to push back enough to keep from crashing into the ditch, but as he shoved the wheel back toward her, she pressed the brakes harder and watched the other vehicle shoot across the road and slam into a concrete barrier.
The first car finished tumbling down the road before it rolled over onto its roof and rocked to a halt.
Adriana stepped on the brakes and stopped her sedan on the side of the road near the car that crashed into the barrier. The innocent driver everyone had passed previously slowed down as well until they were only a few car lengths away from Adriana’s ride.
The driver rolled down the window as Adriana climbed out. The young man behind the wheel must have only been in his early twenties, probably heading back to the country after a party with friends. He looked more awake than she felt, and a terrified expression filled his face.
He parked his car behind hers and started to get out, but Adriana stopped him. She held up her hand and took a warning step toward him. “Stay where you are,” she ordered.
He shrank back in his seat. “Are you okay?” he asked in accented English.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Do you have a phone?”
He nodded.
“Good. Call the police and report the accident. Keep driving and don’t come back.”
“What?”
She took another step toward him, this time with menace burning in her eyes. “I’m trained to deal with this,” she said. “I have a feeling you’re not.”
The young man nodded absently, confirming her assertion.
“Call the police,” she repeated. “And keep driving. We’ll handle this.”
“Are you with the police?”
“Obviously,” she said unconvincingly.
He looked confused but took out his phone and made the call.
“Go,” she commanded, then turned and stal
ked toward the smoking car on the side of the road.
The young driver did as told, and as he spoke to someone on his phone, explaining what he’d seen, he weaved around the broken glass, plastic, and chunks of metal that had ripped free from the tumbling car on the road ahead. He slowed just enough as he passed the upside-down car to get a look inside. What he saw must have unnerved him because the young man sped away.
Adriana reached the car and approached cautiously. The driver was halfway through the windshield, his bloody head and neck hanging limp against the windshield wipers near the tip of the hood. The other passenger had gone completely through the glass, as evidenced by the torso-shaped hole in the windshield.
The smell of gas, coolant, and antifreeze lingered in the air as the liquids leaked into a greenish blue puddle on the asphalt. Steam rolled up from the wrecked engine block.
As Adriana drew near, she saw a tattoo on the man’s neck. She puzzled over the mark for a moment, then looked off to her right to locate the second occupant.
She switched on her phone light and vaulted over the K-rail and into a grassy field. The fescue was only knee high, and she found the second body within thirty seconds. The man had been thrown forty feet from the car. He lay prostrate in the grass, his head bloodied and his neck bent at an impossible angle. Black eyes stared out at the grass in front of them, not seeing anything in the realm of the living.
He, too, bore the same tattoo as the other man.
Adriana noted the gun in the man’s hand and considered taking it. Uncertain of the fates of the other car’s occupants, she decided it prudent to be armed and took the pistol from his limp fingers. The Walther 9mm was an elegant weapon and felt oddly natural in her hand as she sifted through the dead man’s pockets. All she found was a wad of euros and a cell phone. She took both and stuffed them in a pocket, then hurried back to the road.
A quick scan to the left revealed no more traffic, but she knew that would change soon. She got back in her car and drove up to the next wreck, climbed out, and inspected the wreckage.
One occupant was very dead. His legs stuck out from underneath the roof that had crushed his entire upper body. The other man was still inside the car, barely breathing and laid out in the back. His eyes remained fixed on the sedan’s back seat overhead. When she approached and leaned in, he didn’t move. Soon, his breathing slowed, and he released one last gurgle before dying.
His shaved head gleamed in the headlights of her rental, and she noted the same tattoo as the others.
Adriana didn’t have to wonder who they were or whom they worked for. Her father had been right, as had Miyamoto—not that she questioned their correctness. But the reality of the truth struck her hard. What made matters worse, the Cult of Thoth had somehow discovered who she was and where she was heading. Despite her best efforts at concealing her identity, Adriana was now on the radar of the most dangerous organization in history.
The words her father and Miyamoto had uttered rang in her mind.
Trust no one.
26
Sweden
Adriana parked the Jaguar outside Sorenson’s mansion. She stepped out and inspected the damage on the side where the other sedan had scraped and rammed her. Good thing I got full coverage, she thought.
The door to the mansion opened, and she smiled at the sight of her husband at the top of the steps. He reflected her emotion and ambled down the stairs to meet her at the bottom. They embraced, and he kissed her on the lips before taking a step back.
“Are you okay?” He looked over at the car, wondering what she was doing.
“Yes,” she answered with a vague glance over her shoulder at the sedan. “Ran into a little traffic.”
Sean cocked his head to the side and lowered his eyebrows in suspicion. “At this hour?”
She sighed and noticed the butler standing in the doorway with a welcoming smile on his face. “I’ll explain everything. In private.”
Sean’s confusion deepened, but he didn’t press her for more, trusting there was a reason behind her suddenly coy demeanor.
“Okay. Sure. Come on inside. We were just getting ready to retire for the night.”
The two walked up the stairs and into the manor, allowing the butler to close the door. “Will you be needing anything else this evening, Mr. Wyatt?” the man asked.
“No, thank you,” Sean said. “I think we’re all going to bed soon. I’ll tell Magnus you’re calling it a day.”
The butler bowed and thanked him before turning away and disappearing down another corridor.
“Thank you for letting me know where you would be,” Adriana said. “It would have been more difficult to find you without that little tidbit.”
He looked over at her as they strolled down the passage. She was as beautiful as ever, though she looked tired—from so much travel, he suspected. Her accent still drove him absolutely crazy, especially when she spoke her native Spanish to him. But her English was still just as sexy as it had been the first time they met in the hotel in Las Vegas.
“You would have managed,” he said with a sideways wink.
She smirked. “Yes, that’s true. But having things easy now and then is nice.”
They slowed when they neared the study, and then Adriana stopped. He followed her lead and turned to face her. “What’s wrong?”
She could hear voices from inside the room discussing something, but the details were a touch fuzzy—muted.
“I….” She faltered for a couple of seconds.
He put his hands on her shoulders and held her with a reassuring grip. “It’s okay.” He searched her eyes for answers, wondering what could have shaken her or jumbled her thoughts in such a way. She was the most resolute person Sean knew, and for something to rattle her it must have been pretty big. “You can tell me anything.” Then his face blushed and his eyes widened. “Wait. Are you…pregnant?”
She abruptly pressed her lips together and laughed inwardly, her shoulders and head falling forward in amusement. Then her mouth opened, and she flashed her white teeth in a wide smile.
“No, dummy. I’m not pregnant.”
“Okay. I mean, it’s fine if you are. Would put a damper on all the travel and adventuring.”
“I promise. I’m not.” She hesitated. “At least I don’t think so.” She raised a playful eyebrow to tease him.
“Now you’re messing with me.”
“Am I?”
Sean licked his top lip, suddenly uncertain.
“Yes,” she continued. “I’m messing with you.” Then her face darkened again. “But I do have something important to tell you.” She glanced at the open door to the study again.
“I do, too,” Sean said. “But maybe if we both have something so big to share, we should wait until we get to bed. I think the crew is about ready to hit the hay for the night.”
She nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”
“Come on,” Sean said. “There are a few new people for you to meet.”
Adriana narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t one for opening her circle of trust so whimsically. Keeping a low profile, managing her identity, and being slow to trust others had been an effort in persistence and vigilance, but as tiring as it could be at times, she had remained safe from those who might try to hunt her down.
Over the years, Adriana had recovered dozens of lost masterpieces that had been stolen during World War II. The living embodiment of the Monuments Men—the Monuments Woman, as it were—she’d infiltrated dangerous locations where some of the worst scoundrels in the world lived and worked. Adriana’s missions had taken her into the underbelly of the art world, a highly secretive, high-stakes black market. More than once, she’d barely escaped with her life. That didn’t stop her from continuing the cause, always searching for the next piece she could recover and restore to either the world or to the people who rightfully owned it.
Most of the original owners were long gone by now, but their families could still be made whole, and
if not, there were more than enough museums who would happily accept an anonymous donation that just happened to be a missing masterpiece.
Sean sensed her apprehension. He had a nose for that sort of thing, perhaps in part due to his degree in psychology. But like his favorite professor once told him, “Great counselors are born, not trained. You either have it, or you don’t, Sean. You have the gift.”
The ability to read people, to feel what they were feeling, transcended mere body language or tone of voice. It was an almost ethereal vibe that he drew from others. It occasionally made people nervous.
“If you’d rather go to bed, I can show you to my…our room,” he corrected.
“No,” she shook off the suggestion. “Thank you. I’ll be fine. If they are here with you, then I’m sure they’ve been properly vetted.”
He bobbed his head once and then led her into the study.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my wife, Adriana.”
She nodded at the others. “Hello,” she said smoothly.
Tommy and Magnus glided over to give her hugs. The latter squeezed her extra tight.
“My dear,” he said, taking a step back, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Just tired, Magnus. I’m fine. Thank you.”
Adriana noticed Kevin in the corner and smiled politely. “Dr. Clark, it’s good to see you again.” She offered the greeting genuinely. Adriana understood Kevin’s opinions about Tommy and the IAA, and while she disagreed with his assessment, she could respect the man and his opinions as merely misplaced from a differing perspective.
“You as well,” Kevin said. “Please, call me Kevin. I think we’re well beyond the formalities now.”
She nodded her understanding.
“I’m Special Agent Tabitha Strong,” Tabitha said, stepping forward to offer her hand.
“She’s MI6,” Tommy whispered, pretending to be impressed.
Tabitha shot him a warning glance and shook Adriana’s hand.
“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Adriana purred. Then she turned to Sean. “I apologize for being so direct, but I heard about the attack on Kevin’s camp.”
The Milestone Protocol Page 22
