Seeing her team up ahead, Alicia stopped the cab and paid the driver. Russo saw her first, swinging that enormous head like a lumbering prehistoric carnivore. Was that a smile on his lips or a slight grimace? Did he move to protect his extremities?
“Lovely,” Alicia said as she came up to them. “A friend spots you in the crowd and then winces. How’s it hanging, Robster?”
Russo winced again, this time more openly. “Just waiting for the bullets to start flying, Myles. They always seem to accompany you.”
Alicia accepted a hug from Caitlyn and a smile from Healey. Crouch introduced the man he had been talking to.
“This is Naz. The man who brought Rolland in on the hunt. Naz is an archaeologist and one of the men who’s been risking his life on a daily basis to uncover the secrets of the old dock.”
Naz grinned at her. “Yes. Tunneling is not my forte. Especially when I witnessed government soldiers bringing down a thirty-day food supply in case the tunnel they built collapsed.”
Alicia shook her head. No surprise there, mate. Naz was a swarthy, lean individual with a thick beard and bright eyes. He wore a maroon T-shirt with holes around the neckline, dirty jeans and tattered trainers. The man looked more like a student playing at archaeology than a specialist.
“Where’s your dad?” She looked around, shielding her eyes against the glaring sun.
Naz looked momentarily confused before catching Crouch’s wry smile. “Oh, I see. Well, I am older than I look and very good at what I do. You will see.”
“All I see is a great big piece of old rock. You wanna explain it to me?”
Naz turned toward the Hagia Sophia. “Oh really? There are countless books written about this old thing. My interest lies in what hasn’t yet been found. The mysteries that still lie in wait for us, waiting to be uncovered.”
“So why are we here?”
Naz glanced quickly at Crouch, as if gauging the newcomer’s importance and her blunt persistence. “Well, we are here because this church has a significant impact on our quest. The secrets it possesses and has witnessed since its construction in 537 AD are limitless. It is the personification of Byzantine architecture, once referred to as ‘changing the history of architecture’. Before the crusaders attacked in 1204 it contained numerous holy relics but then slowly began to fall into disrepair, then became a mosque and later a museum. This is what you see now. Of course, out of all that colorful history, I mention the crusader sack of 1204 for a particular reason.”
Crouch nodded. “The Fourth Crusade was a turning point in history.”
“Yes, and for many reasons. But for us, it marks the last known sighting of the treasure we seek—the Hercules Tarentum.”
“Rolland mentioned that you found a bill of lading relating to the statue.” Crouch remembered.
“Never heard of it.” Alicia coughed.
“Yes, I found the bill. And to put it as succinctly as possible—the Hercules would be the only surviving piece sculpted by Alexander the Great’s only sculptor, the same man who created the famed Horses of St. Mark and whose pupil built one of the ancient wonders of the world.”
Alicia raised her eyebrows. “Gotcha.”
“I thought it basically disappeared from the ship discovered at the ancient docks,” Caitlyn said. “The history books said the Hercules was ‘thought to have been hidden from the crusaders under Hagia Sophia’.”
“No.” Naz shook his head. “Many books from the History of the Crusades to Enrico Dandolo’s Attitude Toward Byzantium make mention of the crusaders actually melting down the great statue for its content.”
Crouch considered this carefully. “You mention Dandolo, as did Rolland. He was the only leader of the crusade who actively tried to prevent other crusaders from destroying the treasures.”
“Exactly. It is what he did with the Horses of St. Mark, much of the interior of Hagia Sophia and countless other relics. Or so history tells us.”
“So he saved them by stealing them?” Caitlyn said. “That doesn’t exactly make him this city’s great protector.”
“Certainly not. Some believe Dandolo, once the Venetian ambassador to Constantinople, had his sights set on certain treasures long before the crusaders came knocking at Constantinople’s formidable door.”
“Which might include the Hercules?” Caitlyn asked.
“It stands to reason. Dandolo led his Venetians in search of treasures. He did not take part in the destruction, desecration and murder of its inhabitants.”
“All right,” Crouch said. “So what makes you believe the statue wasn’t melted down?”
“Beyond Dandolo’s search? His deceptions? His obvious knowledge of the city? Just one thing—the Horses of St. Mark.”
Crouch’s gaze searched the middle-distance, wandering off in the direction of Istanbul’s ancient Hippodrome. Today it was an intriguing city square with very few fragments of the original structure surviving, yet was still home to the pink granite Obelisk of Thutmose III, once erected at the Temple of Karnak in Luxor. It has survived nearly three thousand five hundred years of turmoil in remarkably good condition.
“Why do those Horses keep on cropping up?” Russo grumbled.
Naz smiled. “Because they are inextricably linked to the Hercules, mostly through their maker—Lysippos—but also by history and circumstance. It is no coincidence that both ended up in Constantinople at the same time, my new friends.”
Alicia considered all she had learned and then spoke up. “Let me catch up. It shouldn’t take too long. You found proof that this statue came to Constantinople, and then you called Rolland Sadler. Now we’re here and we’re all friends. Is that it?”
Naz grunted. “Well when you put it like that you take away the excitement and mystery of it all.”
“Oh dear. I’m sorry. So what’s next?” Alicia remained straight-faced.
“Hagia Sophia,” Naz said. “You have to understand that, to many, this church is as important as the Vatican. Tunnels twist underneath it that stretch all over Constantinople, and it was here that treasures were secreted during sieges. Until recently the Turkish government have never properly acknowledged that any tunnels exist beneath her. But then access was granted to a team of divers for just one day—”
“One day?” Crouch repeated, amazed.
“Yes. It’s an odd government with an odd motive that would grant such a thing, don’t you think? So we’re left with thousands of years of speculation. People say that a cistern exists underneath her so large that a galley might sail through it.”
“So the tunnels are flooded,” Caitlyn reiterated.
“The ones we know about are,” Naz said cryptically.
“So where does that leave us?” Crouch asked.
“Actually in a very interesting place . . .” Naz winked. “I would not bring you here without just and major cause. You see, the mystery deepens dramatically in this treasure hunt when you take into account the role of Enri—”
“Whoa!” Alicia suddenly exclaimed, eyes still surveying all perimeters. “Heads up, guys. There’s some crazy-looking uber-bitch headed our way who I do not like the look of.”
“Funny,” Russo said, turning. “Those were my exact thoughts when you turned up.”
The woman, Alicia saw, wore a bulky figure-concealing, knee-length coat even in such hot weather and was backed by a small force of gritty looking men, similarly attired. With dark hair and a dark complexion she might have been of local origin, or from anywhere east of Austria for that matter.
Alicia made ready, ignoring the ache of bruises that hadn’t yet healed from her last battle, the pull of tendons overused. She had to be ready. It was her experience that violent conflict might strike at any time, from any angle and any person.
“Maybe she’s lost and looking for directions,” Naz ventured.
“She’ll be heading straight down,” Alicia murmured. “If she comes any closer.”
The woman halted before them, a playful smile on he
r lips, eyes as cold as a natural predator locked onto those of its prey’s.
Alicia recognized confidence, danger and death among other things. Her entire system instantly flooded with adrenalin.
“Hand over your archeologist,” she said quietly. “If you want to live.”
FIVE
Alicia was suddenly conscious of the many buses lining both sides of the road, the overhanging trees and small dome at her back, the swarms of people hailing from every culture all around. The new arrival patted her bulky coat at the hip and then motioned toward a nearby bus, the first in a never-ending line parked nose to tail.
“I’ll gladly open fire,” she said. “Makes no difference to me.”
Alicia believed her. It wasn’t the set of the face, the language of the body. It was those psycho eyes, void of all human emotion.
“We’re unarmed,” Healey said without thinking, probably trying to play the tourist card.
“Thanks for the confirmation, kid. Get behind the coach.”
Alicia had already evaluated their position. Even counting Caitlyn and the archaeologist they were six versus nine. By no means insurmountable odds but highly risky without firearms.
Of course there were more ways to commandeer a gun than there were elitists staying at The Ritz. Alicia’s calculating gaze swiveled between the woman’s cohorts, determining the weakest of them.
Naz was the first to back away. “I do not know why you want me.”
“Because he does.” The woman shrugged in Crouch’s direction. “I’ve had my hooks into you people since the Aztec affair. You liberated an awful lot of gold that day. An appetizing slice of money and wealth. I’m here for the main course.”
“Clearly, you’re deranged.” Alicia moved to the woman’s left ever so slowly. “Don’t you have any idea who we are? What we could do to you?”
“Clearly, I don’t care.” The woman swept aside her coat to reveal a terrifying weapon—an Uzi Pro SMG; Israel Weapon Industries’ latest design. Alicia knew it fired 9mm ammunition from the closed bolt and used the same blow-back operating system as the original Uzi design. Twenty-one inches long with stock fully extended and less than twelve inches in its most compact form, the Pro used a 25-round magazine and could be switched between semi- and fully-automatic fire. Here, among the tourists and the history, it was as deadly a weapon as the woman could ever have brought to bear.
Alicia hesitated. Were her goons sporting the same hardware? If so, the Gold Team’s odds were falling by the second. Perhaps it was time for Plan B.
“So you’re what? Another bloody stalker?” Alicia played for time. “Believe me, I’ve had more than my fair share of those recently.”
“I bet. But you can call me Kenzie, and we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other during our treasure hunt, I’m sure. Though you might hate the chains.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .”
“Now hurry up. I’ve already had to kill one of my men today and, despite his infinite ineptness, the death of a paid employee always festers in my gut.” Kenzie spread her hands. “I mean, what happens to all that dead money in his bank account? Dead merc equals dead money and a waste of resources.”
Alicia couldn’t stop fleeting shadows of surprises sweeping her features.
“Yes, yes.” Kenzie waved it away. “He failed me twice. I beat him, shot him in the gut, watched him bleed out. No fun in that. The coach is that way, blondie.”
Alicia studied her adversary, not quite able to recall the last female criminal she or any of her teams had come up against. Was there one? To keep the woman happy she backed up a few steps, still with Russo and Healey at her side. Soldier’s intuition told her they would be waiting for her move; an intuition not only born of expectation but also of mutual respect and experience gained from fighting together during the Aztec escapade. Naz already stood by the coach, Caitlyn and Crouch a meter to his left. Every second they stalled gave rise to the possibility that a distraction would present itself.
The driver of the lead coach leaned out of his half-open window, sleepily asking if he could help them out, and Alicia sensed the whole dynamic change. Kenzie’s concentration shattered, leaving her irresolute for a short moment. Her men grew cautious, all of a sudden aware of how public they were.
Alicia had lived her life seizing the moment, and this one was no different. Striking hard, she bruised Kenzie’s cheek, then sent her stumbling away with a jerk of her big coat.
Spinning past, she engaged her first crony, a man wearing a long leather jacket. His gun, secreted beneath, was instantly clasped between her hands and wrenched away. Above his shocked visage the extensive dome of Hagia Sophia loomed large, reminding her of their setting. Alicia doubled him over with a well-placed knee and threw his gun under the bus.
To her right and left Russo and Healey were backing her to the hilt. Russo smashed an elbow with the force of a boulder into one man’s face, sending him into instant oblivion. Healey wrestled with a more competent foe, both men struggling for control of a weapon.
Alicia took another usurped Uzi and tucked in close to Kenzie. No one would dare fire on her now, even if they were mad enough to try out here. And these were not fanatical terrorists bent on destroying a larger world they had been brainwashed to hate; these were paid mercs intent on securing a larger pay day. Kenzie had said as much, betraying her hand. And though eyes now swiveled murderously in her direction all noted the presence of Kenzie mere inches away . . . and paused.
Russo threw a man against the side of the nearest coach, the impact itself turning a few heads. Healey slipped and scrambled away, pursued by his adversary. Crouch disappeared around the vehicle’s blind side, drawing a contingent of mercenaries after him.
Alicia smashed a man on the bridge of the nose, watched him wobble before crashing to the ground, then rubbed the back of her spine against Kenzie’s.
“Hey girlfriend. You ain’t gonna shoot anyone out here. You’ve been outplayed.”
Kenzie didn’t move. “No. Not now. But I do see this treasure hunting game as a way of making money, far better than my previous drab existence of looting in the Middle East and fighting over a slab of ancient fucking rubble. And I will pursue you hard. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”
“I don’t need luck.” Alicia pushed away from her, swiping another man as she spun. “I have skills. We were all well trained.”
“And you think I wasn’t?” Kenzie actually looked hurt. “The Mossad train the best, Alicia Myles. Remember that. And I was the cream of the crop.”
Alicia noticed several passersby now staring, one man already tugging out a cellphone. “You need to get the hell out of here,” she told Kenzie. “Before you’re arrested by the Turkish police. You’ll also be best served by forgetting you ever heard of our little team.”
Kenzie snarled a little, eyes still set to frostbite. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
Alicia grinned happily. “Oh, I should hope the fuck not! We’ll call this a skirmish. A fracas.” She smashed a heel into Kenzie’s midriff, sending her grunting backwards, then spun fast with a high kick that noisily cricked the tendons in a merc’s neck. Holding onto the gun, she waded amongst the remaining men with Russo beside her.
“Don’t hold back, will ya?” he muttered with mock anger.
“Not in my nature.” Alicia fought hand-to-hand, jabbing, deflecting and reversing blows with two of Kenzie’s men. Crouch came back around the side of the coach, struggling to fight off three adversaries with Caitlyn’s help. The newcomer was being coached by Healey in their down time but still had a long, long way to go. Even as Alicia glanced over Caitlyn took a blow to the temple that staggered her. Healey noticed and almost yelped in anguish, tearing away from his current opponent to jump to her aid. Alicia gave chase, but found her way suddenly blocked by a returning Kenzie.
“Get you next time, Myles.”
The Israeli sent a parting shot at Alicia’s ribs, fast and arrow-straigh
t and impossible to block. Alicia felt the impact, grimacing, knowing—as Kenzie had wanted her to—that here was a vicious, capable opponent. She exhaled carefully, ribs bruised.
“Only if you buy a set of muscles, bitch. I’ve had hugs that hurt more than that tap.”
Kenzie struck again, not blinking, not conveying any kind of tell.
Alicia backed away this time, feeling the other woman’s knuckles graze past her cheek. Now at her back she sensed another enemy, turned briefly and saw a tall bearded man reaching for her. As his fingers grabbed her throat she copied Kenzie’s move of moments earlier—this time feeling the fracturing of bones.
“A lesson,” she breathed and slipped away.
Kenzie barked an order, for the first time, it seemed, aware of the loitering passersby and the many visible cellphones. Her men rallied around, careful to conceal what weapons they still carried and started to slip away.
Alicia slipped to Crouch’s side, inventorying their new cache and confident they had secured at least three Uzis. “So we’re not going to be alone on our quest,” she said.
“Never thought we would be.” Crouch gave her a resigned smile. “If a legitimate search for buried treasure does one thing it always draws the rats from their burrows.”
Caitlyn gasped a little as Healey applied a pack of tissues soaked in cold bottled water to the raw swelling on her temple. “At least she’s not totally ruthless,” the Englishwoman said. “And not totally competent.”
Alicia stared after the already departed woman. “I’m reserving judgment,” she said. “That little antic felt almost like a shot across the bows. An opening challenge. If she’s as seasoned as she says she is and a veteran of the Middle East she’ll be more than ruthless. But, hey, it could be worse.”
Alicia Myles 2 - Crusader's Gold Page 3
