Alicia Myles 2 - Crusader's Gold

by David Leadbeater

  “There is no Hippodrome anymore.”

  “I know. But in Dandolo’s day. When the Horses of St. Mark surmounted it.”

  Naz looked like he’d experienced a sudden revelation. “Of course! The tomb was built here, in full view of the windows that stare out at the object of Constantinople that he coveted most, and stole.” The archaeologist did a quick mental shuffle. “Those.” He pointed and raced off.

  “Slow down.” Crouch caught him fast. “If anyone is watching . . .”

  Naz’s quick exuberance dissipated. “You mean the crazy woman?”

  “Yes. And who knows what other trolls we may have picked up along the way.”

  “Trolls?” Naz’s tone was confused.

  “Trolls, yes. Those who seek to upset and destroy. From the one-star reviewers to the social media scavengers and nuisance hackers. Our intentions may be good, my friend, but that doesn’t mean those we attract feel the same. So take it steady and look like a sightseer.”

  Gradually, the group gravitated over to the group of windows in question. As Caitlyn already knew they were made of stained glass and colorful—an arch of greens and blacks forming over individual panes tinted various hues of blue, red, white and green. As a whole each window was a simply stunning vision, but taken by individual panes and dissected, each one painted a different picture. Caitlyn counted eight separate panes to each window on the wall, which amounted to thirty two different scenes. Nonchalantly, but more carefully than she could have believed possible, she examined each one.

  “Do you see it?” Healey muttered. “Anyone?”

  “It would be easier if we knew what we were looking for,” Naz admitted. “But I see nothing yet.”

  Caitlyn scanned the panes of glass, seeing dozens of religious images but nothing relevant. It took twenty minutes but eventually neither she nor Naz nor Crouch felt anything short of disappointment. The team knew they had already lingered a little too long.

  “Back to the drawing board?” Alicia asked. “Well, one thing’s for sure, all these failures will soon bore the arse off your bloody trolls.”

  It was then that Crouch’s eye caught on a flash of color. “The Doge of Venice,” he said carefully. “That could be it.”

  “What?” Naz asked, squinting toward the top row.

  “A glass pane quietly dedicated to Dandolo near his tomb doesn’t seem too out of place now does it?” Crouch murmured.

  “Quietly?” Caitlyn questioned.

  “It would have to be,” Naz said. “Otherwise later generations would smash it. What are you seeing, Michael?”

  “I’m thinking of the coat of arms of the Republic of Venice in Dandolo’s day and the colors therein,” Crouch said. “And I’m seeing them right at the very top there, dead center.”

  Naz inhaled swiftly. “Looking toward the Hippodrome, a pane of deep red and yellow with the lion symbol. That has to be it.”

  “But what does it portray?” Caitlyn squinted hard. “I can’t make out the figures.”

  Crouch removed his cellphone and held it up, focusing the lens but still blending perfectly with the hundreds of visitors all around. Taking his time he snapped several photos, careful not to stick to the same area. A few minutes later he was staring at the screen, blowing the most relevant picture up to full size as Caitlyn and Naz looked on.

  “What do you see?” Alicia asked, curious despite her apparent indifferences.

  “I see a male holding—” Crouch squinted. “Two items. I also see a miniature city perhaps? And, four horses. I definitely see four horses!”

  “And the male,” Naz breathed. “Look closer. Though small it is a man of strength holding up a key in one hand and a cup in the other. It is a depiction of the Hercules Tarentum. It is the statue as Lysippos sculpted it.”

  “And the city?” Healey asked.

  “Where else?” Crouch smiled. “It is unmistakably Venice.”

  NINE

  Alicia’s elation was short-lived.

  When Kenzie’s now familiar face momentarily materialized out of the surrounding throng she knew their time inside the Hagia Sophia was up. She also knew that their new antagonist could not possibly be carrying any serious weapons. The entrances, halls and exits of the ancient church might appear antiquated but they were actually crammed full of the latest detection devices. Alicia signaled a hasty retreat and the team pulled together, drifting toward the nearest exit.

  Kenzie must have caught on immediately, because she emerged from the crowd with her unattractive entourage. “I know you found something,” she called across the busy space between them. “Just tell me what it was.”

  Alicia waved the others by, her and Russo trailing. Tourists milled all around. Within seconds Kenzie was tapping at Alicia’s heels, leaning in to whisper into her ear. “Gloves are coming off real soon, bitch. You people are not going to know what hit you.”

  Alicia thought about all she had overcome and accomplished during the past few years and laughed. Kenzie’s threat might not be an empty one but it was spoken with such outlandish bravado, such egotistical belief. Alicia’s laugh only served to pour fuel onto the fire.

  Kenzie slammed the bottom of her foot onto the back of Alicia’s thigh, causing a jolt of flame to travel from the point of impact to her brain. Alicia pulled up abruptly, spinning to face the Israeli.

  “You wanna eat the floor, sweetheart? Just say the word and I’ll put you down in front of all these people and their cameras.”

  “Put me down then, bitch. If you—”

  “Amen, motherfucker.” Alicia struck before the woman completed her sentence, a jab to the solar plexus and the throat. The first struck true, the second was deflected even as Kenzie doubled over, a sign that proved she’d at least gone through intensive training. Alicia stepped back, then brought a knee into Kenzie’s head as her backup moved in.

  At any other time, in any other place, soldiers and mercenaries might have backed off, remembered where they were and what they were doing. But not today. A challenge had been thrown down and nobody was prepared to yield.

  Healey found himself barged backwards, fell down a step and realized he was at the top of a winding flight of stairs. A boyish enthusiasm creased his face and when the next man attacked he stepped briskly aside, allowing his opponent to sprawl headlong down the punishing flight.

  Russo sent a man crashing against the stone balcony, its height the only thing saving him from toppling over. Naz backed down slowly, fronted by Caitlyn and Crouch.

  Alicia found her attention partly distracted by Caitlyn. During the last few months Healey had been quietly and carefully training the young girl in an effort to at least give her the basic skills to defend herself. The team, and especially Alicia, weren’t expecting any miracles but at the same time they were all hopeful. Caitlyn had controlled herself very well during the last adventure when she’d been abducted but Alicia didn’t want to be called on for another gung-ho rescue any time soon. She’d had enough of those after saving Mai bloody Kitano from the hands of the Yakuza.

  Now, as Caitlyn was forced to shield both herself and Naz alongside Crouch, the twenty-one-year-old was moving admirably, cutting down her target area and shifting in sync with the boss. Again, she looked calm. Alicia, and certainly her new opponent, wouldn’t now have guessed she had no real fighting or military experience. When her opponent feinted at Crouch and struck at Caitlyn she defended by stepping away and kicking to the knee. Not bad. With the man on his knees, though, Caitlyn should have stepped in fast for the incapacitating blow—finish ‘em off, Alicia had told her, doesn’t matter how or where. Just end their ability to do harm to you or anyone else. Preferably forever. Countless times on the TV and in films she had seen the hero or heroine leave a capable opponent groaning behind them as they ran.

  In real life you finished them off.

  Heads were already swiveling toward them. Alicia had watched Kenzie pick herself up, knowing she could have injured the woman badly as she d
id so but feeling it might be a somewhat sadistic act.

  See. I’m growing.

  An Alicia during the Bones of Odin campaign would have struck first and thought about the consequences later.

  Kenzie rose to her feet, trying not to gasp. Alicia held out a hand. “You okay? Want me to find you a chair?”

  “This isn’t over. The time will come—”

  “Save it. Makes you sound like a friggin’ supervillain. I’m thinking Thanos, especially with that massive forehead of yours. And the craziness. You can get tablets for that. So I’m told.”

  “One day.”

  “It’s a bad girl’s world, sweetie, and I’m way badder than you.”

  Kenzie held up a hand, forcing her men to back off. Too many heads were aimed their way, too many eyes and ears focused.

  Alicia watched the play of emotions across the woman’s features. Then, carefully, she also backed up, taking her team with her down the long staircase. The two units separated. Alicia headed for the nearest exit, already wondering how they could make a quick, clean escape. Crouch was a step ahead of her.

  A door yawned to her left, already open.

  The team surged through, hearing no shouts from the guards and taking it as a sign of good fortune. Outside, a bright sun flooded the day. Crouch held up his camera as he ran.

  “We know where we’re going. They don’t. Let’s make sure we leave them in Istanbul, guys.”

  Soon they were headed away from the church, a tree-lined path marking their progress toward a large contingent of cabs. Alicia and Russo guarded their every step, mindful of followers. Alicia thought she spotted Kenzie once, standing far away upon the basilica’s steps, an expression of rage on her face.

  Best place for you. Far away from me. You really have no idea . . .

  And then, unexpectedly, Michael Crouch stopped.

  The breath fell out of his body. The color washed right out of his face. Alicia saw it happen in an instant, saw the terrible, devastating shock attack his body and followed his gaze.

  Heard his voice edged with terror, a sound so alien to him, so out of character.

  “R . . . Riley?”

  An older man faced them, probably in his early fifties, with the hard weathered face of someone who had seen too much, and fought too much. Well built, tall, and closely shaven from his chin to his scalp there was no mistaking that this man was or had been a soldier, and a very good one in his time.

  And maybe still.

  Crouch still continued to stammer. Alicia saw the rest of the team pause, unsure what to do, and knew the only action required now was to move forward. Nothing else mattered.

  “You’re in our way, bozo,” she said.

  The man switched his unreadable gaze toward her.

  “Alicia Myles,” he said. “I know you. And I heard you had changed. Why would you join forces with this killer? This criminal?”

  It took Alicia a moment of staring from left to right to realize the newcomer was referring to her boss.

  And Michael Crouch looked terrified.

  TEN

  Crouch finally found his tongue.

  “Me? You have to be joking! There has never been a killer like you, Riley. At least not one I’ve ever come across.”

  Riley’s stern face twitched with what might have been satisfaction. Alicia studied him, already shocked at Crouch’s words and wondering why she’d never heard of the new dude. His hair was short-cropped, military style, and he held himself with a confident ease, portraying power, poise and intense training. Probably around fifty, he appeared fitter than most of the men at his back, young mercenaries all. But it was his gaze that held Alicia’s attention—not just the frozen apocalyptic glare of his eyes but the wintry madness that shone forth, the controlled craziness that promised mercy would never enter the equation and bystanders were always accepted collateral.

  “You thought I was dead?” Riley growled.

  “I hoped you were dead.”

  Nobody moved. Tourists meandered around them, unconsciously giving the group a wide berth, perhaps sensing the intense, barely coiled violence that might erupt at any moment. Alicia noticed the arrival of Kenzie and her crew, and saw the woman’s sudden realization that something huge was occurring here and to interrupt might cost a whole bunch of people their lives.

  “When I found out you had turned treasure hunter I stared tracking you down. Yeah, it took a while, but good things always come to . . . you know the rest. Found you briefly in Vegas, lost you during that Niagara Falls thing—”

  “And now you’re making your move?”

  Riley gave Crouch an incredulous look. “My move? Do you really think this is my move? That you or any of your cretinous crew would still be alive? Believe this, Crouch, when I make my move you will be the first to know.”

  “So go fuck off then,” Alicia couldn’t help but say, bristling over being referred to as “cretinous”. “Come back when you’ve grown a pair.”

  Kenzie drifted to within hearing distance, but well behind Russo, mostly hidden by the giant.

  Riley sent that insane look toward Alicia. “This is the beginning,” he said. “Your warning. Make no mistake, you’re all already dead whether you leave this bastard’s side or not, but I’ll take it easier on you if you do. You’re not under protection of the British Army anymore, Crouch. You’re in the bigger world now. You’re in my world.”

  “Always have been,” Crouch said, but without true conviction. “I’ve always been around.”

  Riley blinked. “We’ll see how different it is now. You of all people should know—I make the rules.”

  “Look,” Alicia saw the already deadly anger between the pair starting to escalate to a point where it might become unstable, “let’s save the testosterone. Looks like you boys’re gonna need it later, not exactly being spring chickens and all. Riley—you ain’t gonna try anything here among all these people so just back the fuck off.”

  Riley again transfixed her. “Believe me, Myles. These people, their lives, their children, mean nothing to me. I’d just as soon see them all blown into dust. This is all about Crouch, and watching him shit himself in the street. This is all about what’s to come. This is to heighten the anticipation. Because when it happens—it’ll go big.”

  Alicia searched Riley’s face as he spoke, seeing only truth and disaster there, not a scrap of bravado. Suddenly the quest for Dandolo and Lysippos, Venice and the Hercules Tarentum seemed very far away. Devastation had just arrived on their doorstep.

  “How come I’ve never heard of you?”

  Riley blinked for the second time. “I am this man’s nemesis. His dirty great secret. You think a big shot like Crouch ever lets the most terrifying skeletons escape from his closet? Well, this one just did. Ask him all about me. How we trained together. Marched together. Drank together. Ask him how he killed others just to try to get close and kill me. But the gloves are off now, as they say, and I will wage a vendetta, a bloody war, to destroy him and all that he loves.”

  Crouch didn’t move, although all around him shifted to give themselves space. Alicia took in her surroundings without moving her head. “Bit over the top, dude.”

  For the first time Riley showed a trace of emotion in his face. A dreadful expression of hate distorted every feature.

  “I will destroy entire cities to kill him if I have to, Myles. The game, the chase, is on. Take this as your warning before Armageddon.”

  And then, without the slightest hint of an order being passed, Riley and his entire team backed carefully away, expertly assessing their perimeter and withdrawal as they went. Alicia watched them a while and then turned to Crouch, a look of incredulity on her face.

  “What in the name of the Downstairs DJ was all that about?”

  ELEVEN

  Bridget McKenzie stalked back to the vehicle that would return her to her headquarters, beaten and abused but only by conflicting emotions. Her plan had been one of intimidation, in true stalker fas
hion. Start low-key, build up steadily to the real violence—it all preyed on the victim’s mind so much deeper that way, took them down quicker. And, of course, helped preserve her anonymity from the authorities.

  What now?

  Never, in her seven years as a dangerous rogue sinner had she had to confront a situation like the last one. This Riley had shaken her, surprised her with his intentions, the sheer animosity that radiated from him. Crouch appeared visibly shaken and though she knew him very little, Kenzie did know that the ex-leader of the Ninth Division was as battle-hardened and experienced as any soldier she had ever known.

  Ex-Mossad, Kenzie had once been considered the best of the best. Israeli intelligence agents were highly trained, capable of feats even regiments like the SAS admired. The incident that turned her against them and against authority in general, and those that led up to it, changed her forever—giving her a belly full of anger, a burning mission, and a new desire to garner immoral power of her own.

  The men who surrounded her now were mere guns for hire, or at least the majority of them were. One thing she knew about power—once you’d bought and fought for it you needed a few hand-picked individuals to help you keep it. Her inner circle was comprised of four strong men she trusted almost as much as she trusted herself. Beyond that she saw her men as an unruly tribe, a paid-for gang of thugs who might just as easily turn on her as follow her orders. With that thought in mind she carefully watched them, spied on them, bugged them, even paid outsiders to come in and pretend to be one of them, just so they could report all the heated conversations and secret intimations straight to her.

  She trusted no one.

  Not anymore.

  With her plans for Crouch and Co. upset she settled back for a short drive and, upon arriving outside a dilapidated abandoned warehouse, slipped out of the car. With a look she summoned Ajax, a powerful, bearded American and part of her inner circle.