Heidi agreed with Cross but said nothing. She watched their pursuers closely as they whipped through more streets. Another few minutes passed. The road broadened and Lucas was able to stamp on the gas pedal.
The car behind veered wildly as it pushed hard to keep up. Men hung out of the windows, losing scarves and weapons as they bounced around. Heidi saw a ragtag organization, a reckless one, but nonetheless dangerous. At the first sign of a raised gun she would—
The car swerved left, making her lose her balance. She was flung against Cross, knocking him into Jemma. Reaching out, she managed to grab the seat back and haul herself up. “A little warning next time,” she panted.
Copacabana Beach appeared ahead. The broad, white sands arced away to the left, a vast expanse leading to the foaming surf, mostly empty now apart from a few lone strollers. Thousands of lights illuminated the curve, bright and golden and reflected in the far waters so that they appeared to bleed into the sea. High-rise buildings rose to the right, their own lights blazing, and between them a wide roadway stretched, following the line of the beach. Rows and rows of cars were parked in front of the hotels.
They hit the Avenue Atlantica at speed. Heidi knew it would only be a matter of minutes before they were seen by cops.
That can’t happen.
The op would be busted before it had a chance to even begin.
The car raced hard down the beachfront highway with Sugarloaf Mountain at their backs. The area before the beach and the road was packed with bars and refreshment stands, hordes of tourists, and locals lounging around on their motorcycles. Palm trees and barriers flashed by. A man was forced to dive out of the way, rolling headlong into a bush. Another man climbed a metal fence, his right foot almost brushing the top of their car.
Heidi pointed at the rows of parked cars to their right.
“Stop. Either we’re gonna kill someone out here or we’re gonna get arrested. Just pull in there.”
Gunn squirmed uneasily. “Won’t the bad guys catch us?”
“Not if you run fast enough. You all ready?”
Lucas didn’t wait; he spied a row of empty parking spaces and swerved the car. Tires screeched. The vehicle skidded sideways, then straightened. Doors flew open. Heidi and Gunn were out first, closely followed by Cross, Jemma, and Lucas. The hotel area stretched for miles and was packed with people. Heidi knew she’d made the right choice, especially when she saw the two motorcycle cops a few blocks down.
“Run,” she said. “Try to keep up.”
They flew away from the car as the chase vehicle pulled up. Its own maneuver was ungainly and it ended up across two parking spaces. Nevertheless, seven men climbed out and gave pursuit.
Heidi mingled with the crowd, but they weren’t far enough ahead to slow down. Their enemy would see them running. She flitted left and right, wishing she knew the layout of the hotels. Then she remembered.
Turned to the driver.
“Lucas? Do you know this area?”
He nodded. “Some,” he said, panting.
Heidi sidestepped through a crowd. “We need one hotel or restaurant,” she said. “Multiple exits. Do you know of one?”
“There’s the Toledo,” Lucas said. “But any of these restaurants will have a rear entrance.”
Heidi knew that. But she didn’t want them ending up in some dark back alley. Thinking fast, she decided to stay with the crowds. Gunn and Jemma were not fighters; neither would be able to handle a confrontation like this. They raced across a narrow intersecting road, then slowed past the motorcycle cops. She glanced back, getting the first proper look at their hunters.
Two with ponytails, others with short hair. All were well muscled and wore tight clothing. Heidi might have thought they were part-time models if it wasn’t for the twist to their faces, the scars on their exposed skin, and the weapons they concealed.
They left the cops to stare at the men and turned into the next restaurant. It was worth the risk to put some ground between them. Putting on the pace, she sped between tables and chairs, alarming guests. Quickly they reached the far end and she checked that everybody was together. They were, Gunn panting and clinging to his tablet like it was an Uzi. She slipped through to the back and then found herself in a gleaming kitchen. Pots and pans hung everywhere, and the surfaces of sinks and worktops glared under bright lights. The noise was tremendous, several cooks not even noticing them as they squeezed by.
The far door was ajar. Heidi pushed through, leaping into the warm night. As expected, the team found themselves in a narrow alley stinking of old food and trash. Happily, though, both ways were unblocked. She turned back the way they had come, found the rear exit of a neighboring restaurant, and pushed inside. A man crouched close by, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette.
She turned to Lucas. “Pay him. Tell him to say we went the other way.”
Lucas explained in rapid-fire dialect. Heidi reversed their earlier run through the restaurant, ending up back on the main street. The thugs were nowhere to be seen.
We still need to get out of here.
A good crew would have spotters on the street. Heidi doubted this particular crew had the guile to forward-think that, but every scenario had to be considered. She spied a cab arriving by the side of the road and quickly pushed her way to the front of the queue.
“Emergency,” she said as she hopped inside, urging the others to come quickly. Shouts went up from angered civilians, but the driver never blinked.
“Where to?”
“Just drive.” Gunn’s voice cracked a little.
They were all breathing heavily, sheened with sweat. Heidi watched the windows, looking for the thugs, but saw nothing until the very last minute. A ponytailed individual appeared, looking both ways, shouting at the sky, and looking very distressed.
She grinned.
“Well,” she said. “Wasn’t that fun?”
“Oh yeah, let’s do it every day.” Gunn could barely speak.
“You should. It’d help you reach your ten thousand steps.”
Gunn paused for a second. “What? You’re talking about my Fitbit, right? That’s not because I’m putting on weight. It’s to help regulate my body’s routines.”
Heidi grinned wider. “I said nothing, dude. Nothing. That’s all on you.”
Jemma nudged him. “I’d sit straighter too. When you slouch like that it looks like you have a paunch.”
“I do not have a paunch.”
“Those guys didn’t look happy.” Cross had been staring through the back window. “Mean, yeah; happy, no.”
“Local motley crew,” Heidi said. “We come across gangs like that all the time. Some are a joke, but all are incredibly dangerous. When they fail, the first thing they do is resort to violence.”
“Let’s hope we don’t cross them again,” Jemma said, shivering.
“That depends on the significance of these statues.” Heidi tapped her phone, where the pictures were stored. “And if we can decipher their real provenance.”
“We?” Jemma looked surprised. “We’re not history buffs, and even Gunn here won’t find an answer to ancient statue markings on the internet.”
“Don’t worry,” Heidi said. “I have that covered, remember? We just have to get back to DC first.”
“And contact Bodie,” Cross said. “What the hell is going on with him?”
“I just tried Cassidy too,” Jemma said. “No reply.”
“Bodie will be fine,” Heidi said. “I haven’t known him long, but I get the feeling he could handle anything.”
Cross shrugged. “Anything but Jack Pantera. They go back a long way. Jack, I believe, once wanted Bodie to take over when he retired.”
“Take over?”
“You know, look after Jack’s clients.”
Heidi stared at him.
Cross adjusted his seatbelt as he changed position. “Jack’s a rogue. A deceiver. A man who could confront the Devil and talk his way right out of Hell, a
nd then back in again whenever he wanted a visit. He’s Bodie’s one weakness.”
“Shit, well, I’m sure nothing’s wrong. And he has Cassidy too.”
The team went quiet and Heidi sensed their worry. That was easy, of course, because she felt it too.
CHAPTER TEN
Bodie led the way out of the window and down to Pantera’s rear lawn.
Pantera fretted all the way. Bodie had never seen him like this, but then Bodie had never seen a man whose family was being threatened before. Pantera checked and rechecked the visuals despite knowing they were out of line of sight. Even as they flitted back toward the hedge he stopped and again rechecked.
“Jack,” Cassidy growled. “You’re acting crazy. The more you dick around, the worse our chances are.”
Pantera knew it, and shook his head. Bodie led the way over the hedge and back to the car and then buckled himself in. Winter Park was a good drive away.
“Hit 192 and then the turnpike.”
“I don’t know what the hell that means.”
“Just drive.”
Cassidy twisted in the passenger seat from which she’d had to kick Pantera to the back. “I’m guessing you got about forty-five minutes to tell us the background on this. Then, we’ll decide whether to help you or not.”
It was a hard ultimatum, a gravel road of a choice. Bodie knew without any doubt that he couldn’t refuse to help a mother and child in danger, but Jack Pantera wouldn’t be too sure about that. Pantera hadn’t seen Bodie for many years and had then betrayed him.
“Oh hell, it was the worst choice of my life. In the end, though, obviously, it was no choice. If you had kids you would both know that. Doesn’t matter who you are. The president of the United States. The worst gangster in New York. The newest dictator in Africa. If you’re human, you’d do anything to keep your children safe. Anything.”
“Why don’t you explain it from the beginning, Jack?” Bodie said, keeping the road both ahead and behind in his sights.
“You just keep checking we’re not being followed,” Pantera said. “And I’ll explain. Maybe a year ago, this big fellow came to see me. I was practically retired, living off our ill-gotten gains, as you know. I was passing you—what?—maybe two jobs a year by then?”
“You were severing ties,” Bodie recalled.
“Yeah, but the right way. Over time. Allowing my name to fade. I didn’t need anything more. But this fellow—he cornered me in the Walmart parking lot, of all places. You know, the one off Turkey Lake Road? Anyway, it was early one Saturday. It was quiet. He pulled up alongside, handed me an envelope, and stared like he was studying something dead under a microscope. Those eyes.” Pantera shuddered. “They’d seen death. They’d seen murder. And they would again. Sometimes you just know. Sometimes you can see a man’s face and you know he has not one moral bone in his body and that killing you or your family wouldn’t even register on his radar.”
Cassidy nodded, tight-lipped. “I’ve fought a few. Even in the ring. Had to put them down real quick.”
Pantera nodded. “This life-or-death situation registered with me immediately. The fellow just sat there, waiting. I opened the envelope and my heart fell through the floor . . .”
Bodie saw tears glistening on Pantera’s face through the rearview.
“It was a photo of Eric. And one of Steph. They were taken inside our old home.” He paused. “This home. Winter Park. They were both asleep on the sofa, the TV playing in the background. Someone had broken in and taken the photo so shamelessly. So blatantly. They just didn’t care. These people, I knew, would kill with no inhibition.”
Bodie kept his eye on the time. They were fifteen minutes from Winter Park and the more he heard Pantera talk, the faster he drove.
“Then the man spoke. Russian accent. Told me without being asked he was a member of the Bratva. He said there was something like a suffer-and-kill order out on you, Guy. He mentioned the job you took—which I remembered—and then explained what had happened to the old man. He said they wanted you and would watch me closely until you were dead. They said if I delivered you then my family would survive, but if I didn’t—” Pantera swallowed drily. “Well, then he showed me pictures of what they did to another family that upset them. It was . . . horrific. I folded, Guy, I folded and I gave you to them.”
Bodie saw the truth of it all in Pantera’s eyes, in his choked voice. He saw the terrible gravity in it too. The guillotine hung over them, just waiting for the favorable time. There was no way out. He felt the anger at Jack simmering below the surface, but he also saw with perfect clarity the man’s reasoning.
Cassidy looked over at him. “I’d say our chances against the Bratva are even less than against the CIA.”
“The CIA?” Pantera looked confused for a moment but then let it go. “I’m so sorry I betrayed you, Bodie. I ran it all through my head time and time again, a thousand times. I keep remembering when we first met—you were so green. Easy pickings, really. I taught you the body-language thing all over the West End, remember? How to tail a mark. We even practiced on a mews house in Knightsbridge that night. I haven’t forgotten any of it, Bodie. I just can’t believe I fucked up so badly.”
Bodie agreed with the man but shrugged it off for now. “Get ready. We’re five minutes out.”
“The satnav will get you close,” Pantera affirmed. “But not to the door.” He didn’t need to elaborate. Bodie knew Jack would never program his own or a family member’s real address into the GPS and create an open invitation to a thief.
“Quickly,” Cassidy said. “Which job was it, Jack?”
“You’re asking in case I lose my memory in the next five minutes?”
“Don’t be silly. It’s in case you get shot to death.”
“Oh, that’s all right, then. I’m guessing you only did the one job in Miami recently?”
Bodie remembered it well. “The word ‘Bratva’ was certainly never mentioned.”
Pantera sighed. “I know, mate, I know. It was never mentioned to me either when I offered you the job. Nothing came up in the checks.”
Bodie knew that if the Russian Bratva were living lavishly in Miami then they certainly wouldn’t shout about it. Sometimes a criminal organization was a victim of its own cunning. And sometimes, he thought, they make others pay for it.
“We always tried to be better,” he muttered. “Thieves yes, but better. We changed our ways to victimless crimes. We stop being so solitary, so antisocial. We try to be real members of the real world. And look where it gets us.”
“Right here.” Cassidy looked out the window. “Racing to save a little kid on a dark night. With an asshole in the back seat.”
Pantera said nothing. The GPS announced their arrival.
“Where?” Bodie asked.
Pantera pointed. “Seventh house down there. White window frames. Oak tree in the front. Double garage with a horseshoe motif.”
“All right. I suggest we move fast but stay hidden. We don’t know the situation and we have no time. Ready?”
They exited the car and found cover near a dense row of trees and bushes. The greenery ran the length of the road, so Bodie found the place where it pushed up against a strong fence and made his way along, avoiding tree roots and climbing the odd branch. As he walked he whispered to Cassidy.
“I don’t fancy running from the Bratva my whole life, Cass.”
“Ditto.”
“We may have to resteal that statue and make amends. I know they have a code of honor.”
“Easier said than done. You know who bought it?”
“Pantera said they killed him.”
“I know. But his family still has the statue, yes? They’re worse. Violent. Crazy.”
“Nevertheless, the Bratva do have this odd code of honor. We’ll discuss later, but I feel they will appreciate the gesture.”
Cassidy pursed her lips, never trusting, always questioning. By now they were opposite Pantera’s old home and stopped
to take a look.
The place stood in darkness save for a single light in the downstairs living room. The property was large, with all rooms facing the road, four across the top floor and three across the bottom. Bodie noted that the garage was attached to the house. All along the road in both directions cars were parked.
He didn’t like it. “No telling who’s watching. The place is highly exposed.”
“I know,” Pantera moaned.
“You chose it?” Cassidy asked.
“No! Steph chose it. I couldn’t exactly state my reasons for dismissing it at the time.”
No shadows crossed the burning light. Bodie calculated the risk of a quick dash to the front door against the time they’d lose sneaking around the back. “I’m thinking we bring the car up, storm the house, and get the hell out of here.”
“Unfortunately,” Cassidy said, “so am I.”
“If they’re watching the front they will be watching the back. We don’t have a few days or hours to recon, to plan. We could go in tomorrow dressed as workmen, but Jack . . . they may know we’re coming by then and be ready.”
Pantera would have to make the final call on his family. “They’ll hate me for it either way. Hate me forever. Eric, my son—he’s such a good lad. Small for his age and works hard at school. He’s a little hero, taking on the big boys at soccer and”—Pantera allowed a grin that completely transformed his face—“winning, more often than not. Scoring. Running circles around them. I can’t let them take him. I say go. Do it now.”
Bodie nodded. “I agree.”
And then their outlook, and their world, changed. A pair of dark-gray SUVs came screaming around the corner, engines roaring and tires squealing. They powered down the road before slewing to a sideways halt in front of the house.
Doors flew open, slamming back against their hinges, and four men jumped out of each vehicle, leaving the drivers behind the wheel. The men carried automatic machine guns, fully exposed, and raised as if ready to fire. They wore no head gear. Bodie could see their faces clearly, their tattoos, and it reminded him of the Mexican prison.
The Atlantis Cipher (The Relic Hunters Book 2) Page 6
