Probably best just to make sure nothing came to pass with Rebecca.
They were only five minutes out.
Make that four as Brandt accelerated in front of him, his bike spitting out smoke as the sergeant pushed the engine again.
Guess they would take their chances getting stopped for speeding.
Davidson didn’t blame the sergeant. Something felt wrong. The kind of wrong you felt right before bullets started flying. He hoped his gut was wrong, out of tune after being absent from action for so long.
But he doubted it.
* * *
“If you did not like coffee you could just have said,” Osip said as Rebecca hurried to clean up the coffee she had spilled all over the table.
Lopez dabbed an already dirty dishcloth on the books.
“When you said Ten Commandments,” Rebecca asked slowly as she wiped, “did you mean the Ten Commandments?”
“Da,” Osip stated matter-of-factly as he moved his Yivo journal out of the way.
Rebecca stifled an urge to shake the old man. You didn’t just announce the fact that you had a piece of the Ten Commandments and then go on with your day as usual. If Osip was going to act so casually, she would as well.
“Did Amed say where he found the tablet?”
“Probably Stephen Spielberg’s backyard?” Lopez interjected.
She elbowed the corporal as Osip frowned.
“If you speak of the Ark of the Covenant, young man,” Osip stated, “that particular box held the second set of commandments.”
Lopez shot an eyebrow at Rebecca. “Second set?”
“Correct,” she confirmed. “The Bible is very clear that the first set was broken by Moses. Another, second set was created as a replacement to seal the covenant of God and eventually put into the ark. What happened to the first, broken set isn’t mentioned.”
Almost on purpose, Rebecca realized. Given that her mentor Lochum had been obsessed with the crucifixion saga, they really hadn’t dissected out the Old Testament as deeply as they had the New. Perhaps that had been a myopic mistake.
“So what’s to say that fragment wasn’t just an Indiana Jones gift shop knockoff?” Lopez asked.
Osip stopped wiping the table. “Amed did his homework. He had the fragment isotope tested.” Osip’s voice shook. “I did my homework. The piece verified back to 1400 BCE.”
“Lopez,” Rebecca urged. “Why don’t you get the door?”
The corporal shrugged as he moved off. “No worries.”
In silence, Rebecca helped Osip straighten the table. The old man seemed to be comforted by the action. The red in his cheeks subsided. His nose though stayed a bright red. The red of a long-term alcoholic. Rebecca should know. That nose could have belonged to her father. It seemed that Osip might have added a bit of something else besides cream in his cup. Could she judge him though? He had been ostracized from all that he loved. Left in this dingy apartment to fade away into obscurity.
Osip sighed. “I know it is hard to believe.”
Actually? After everything she’d seen? The Ten Commandments were not out of the ballpark.
“I get you more,” Osip said, picking up her coffee cup.
“No, it’s okay,” she answered as she grabbed the cup handle. As the old man’s face clouded over she rushed on. “It’s just a little strong.”
“Ah, Americans,” Osip groused. “I will get sugar.”
Rebecca hated to tell him that no amount of sweetener in the world was going to make that cup drinkable, but she didn’t stop him from going back to the kitchenette. He brought back a sad, grimy bag of sugar and set it on the table. He had to use a knife to cut out a chunk and put it in her cup.
“Thanks,” she said as he moved behind her.
“Let me close these,” Osip suggested, moving to the window. “The light hurts my eyes.”
As he fiddled with the curtains, Rebecca’s mind turned over the facts in front of her. Where had Amed gotten the stone carbon dated? Better yet, where had Amed found the fragment? And what did he care? Even if it were the true stone the Ten Commandments were written upon, what use did Amed have with it?
She went to ask Osip exactly those questions when he turned sharply toward her. Rebecca thought he’d stumbled and reached out to catch him when Osip jerked her to her feet, placing the knife against her neck.
“What the—” Lopez said, raising his weapon. “Let her go, old man.”
Rebecca squirmed only to have the blade bite into her flesh.
“You think to steal this from me?” Osip hissed into her ear. “You think to steal the glory of God?”
Careful not to move too much, Rebecca whispered, “I don’t want to steal anything, Osip.”
“I will drop you,” Lopez warned the old man as he took a step forward.
“Just because you outwitted the Knot, the infants, the arrogant babes, you think that you can take the Disciples of Moshe?”
Disciples of Moshe? What in the hell was he talking about?
“Osip, I don’t want to take on anyone or steal—”
The blade bit into her neck. She could feel a dribble of blood down her skin.
“What’s your exit plan, old man?” Lopez demanded. “Let her go and we can talk.”
That only seemed to inflame Osip more as his fingers dug into her arm. “Do you think I care what happens if I am not allowed to hold the word of God?”
“Osip’s right,” Rebecca said, begging Lopez to back down. The old man was clearly demented. Paranoid. “Osip,” she spoke gently. “We only want to know where Amed hid the Rinderpest. We can work together.” As his grip loosened slightly on her arm, Rebecca continued. “We find the Rinderpest virus and you get the tablets.”
“Do not try to trick me,” Osip hissed. “No one would give up such a piece of history.”
“Trust me,” Rebecca sighed. “I am the last person who wants to hoard a religious treasure.”
“What need I have of you?” Osip asked, although his tone wavered.
Rebecca gulped, dragging the knife against her neck. “Amed came to you how long ago, Osip? A week? Ten days?” The old man didn’t answer, yet she had her answer. “And you have stayed here with your books and your articles.” As Lopez moved to the side apparently to get a better shot, Rebecca continued. “We can get you out of the country. We can take you to the tablets.”
While his fingers didn’t let go of her arm, he also didn’t restrain her. The blade moved away from her neck. Okay maybe it was just an inch, but he was having second thoughts. She could feel the struggle within him.
But there was a window to be reasoned within. Just a few more moments and—
Osip screamed as glass shattered. Blood sprayed across her face. It wasn’t her blood, but his. The old man pitched over, held up only by her arms.
“Lopez!” she cried. “Why did you shoot?”
The corporal ran forward, tugging her down. “I didn’t.”
Another pop as more glass shattered. Rebecca didn’t fight Lopez dragging her down to the floor. The curtains fluttered open to reveal the tree line at the end of the wide greenbelt. Someone was shooting from outside. Not someone. Some sniper.
* * *
Aunush jerked the binoculars from her eyes. She could not have just seen what she had seen. Osip could not have been holding the researcher by a knife. It couldn’t be.
Blinking twice she tried to wipe the sight from her eyes. But no matter how hard she tried to wish away the facts they were the events. Her carefully crafted plan smashed beyond recognition.
Looking up amongst the foliage, Aunush sought her sniper’s eyes. Even camouflaged in dappled green, bracing himself against three branches, she could still make out his bright blue eyes. Their slight dilation confirmed her worst fear.
Damn the old man. Aunush could have easily justified killing the traitor after he had withheld vital information to the Disciples and then was about to divulge their greatest secret to the enemy.
> But now? Killing Osip when he was defending the honor of the Disciples? That would not be understood in certain circles. Circles that would have her and the sniper killed.
He looked to her, his eyebrow rising a millimeter. His orders?
There was no putting the bullets back into rifle. Osip was gone. And her team was already on the move to breach the apartment. The only upside to the situation was the fact that the only people who knew the circumstances of Osip’s death were her, the sniper, and the enemies. However, who knew how many of her team would interface with the enemy. Who knew what words would be exchanged?
Knowing the sniper would read her lips, she carefully spoke the words…Kill them.
All of them.
With a curt nod, the sniper went back to his rifle. A shot sounded, then another. They must crush the enemy and then silence the rest of their team.
No one could know how Osip had died.
How the master’s father had died.
* * *
Rebecca put pressure on Osip’s chest wound, but blood gushed between her fingers. The old man tried to speak. “Shh…” Rebecca shushed as another shot zinged through the window, hit the door, and disappeared from view.
“It’s going to be okay,” Rebecca murmured to Osip as his lips went from pink to gray to ash to white. It wasn’t going to be okay. She’d seen another colleague’s lips do the same thing. Back in Rome. Nothing would be okay for Osip ever again.
He muttered something in Russian.
“Lopez, what is he—” Rebecca looked up to find the corporal shoving the refrigerator over. Before she could ask what he was doing, he pushed the heavy appliance in front of the window. Suddenly the shots pinged on the metal, however they did not come out the back.
“We’ve got to go,” Lopez said, trying to urge her up.
“We can’t. He’s still alive.”
The corporal frowned. They both knew that statement wouldn’t be true for much longer. Rebecca rushed on. “He’s trying to say something.” She grabbed Lopez’s hand and pulled him down. “Please just translate.”
As Lopez leaned over, Osip licked his lips. Still they trembled as he spoke barely above a whisper. Rebecca couldn’t understand a word of it, and apparently the corporal was having an equally hard time.
He shook his head. “I don’t think he’s thinking straight. He’s talking about virgins and staircases.”
Osip raised his voice, sounding more and more urgent.
“And now a moot?” Lopez translated. “He’s just repeating the same words over and over again.”
A string of pings filled the air, and a bullet sliced through the refrigerator.
“He’s cut out a window,” Lopez said as he tugged on her. “We’ve got to bug out.”
She knew she needed to leave, but how could she? What little blood Osip still had inside his body was due to her hand over the wound. If she left…?
Then Osip’s finger curled around hers. “Go,” he said in perfect English, then pushed her from his chest. Blood gushed like a fountain as Osip coughed red foam.
“No!” Rebecca yelled. Lopez grabbed her, jerking her to her feet.
“You heard him. Go!”
Lopez spun her toward the door as more shots made it through the refrigerator blockade. Before she could make it to the front door, it sprang open. Luckily Harvish’s bright red hair signaled it was a friendly entering.
He kept the door open a crack, firing into the hallway. Unfortunately it did not look like good news he carried. “We’ve got company. Lots of company.”
Rebecca looked to Lopez, who spewed out a litany of Spanish curse words.
“What?” Harvish asked. “This apartment is defensible. We can hole up—” A shot came through the refrigerator door, hitting the front door straight in the peephole. “Or not.”
Rebecca gulped. Looked like the sniper’s accuracy was actually going up.
Not good.
“They’re just going to tighten the noose,” Lopez said as Harvish fired down the hallway as the sniper punched several more holes in the refrigerator. Harvish had to dance back from the door as he was now in the sniper’s line of fire.
Lopez glanced to Rebecca as they huddled beneath the windowsill. Clearly he didn’t have a plan. But who would under these circumstances?
Except Brandt. Brandt would have a plan, but where in the hell was he?
* * *
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Brandt cursed, but the wind whisked his words away though as if it didn’t care that there was a fucking sniper out in those trees. The same trees that Talli said would be impossible to shoot from.
Really? Because all those muzzle flashes told a different story.
He was pushing his bike as fast it could go, yet it wasn’t even close to fast enough. There was no doubt in his mind whoever the fuck it was had ground forces moving to take the apartment. He’d sent Rebecca into a goddamned kill zone.
Suddenly Davidson’s bike shimmied and then skidded out. What the hell? Brandt braked, swinging his motorcycle to the right as Davidson hit the pavement hard and rolled away. Bullets dug into the ground beside him.
That fucking sniper. He’d shot out a moving motorcycle’s tire.
Davidson scrambled to cover as Brandt revved his engine. The kid wasn’t a member of his team. Hell, he was a damned traitor. Still. Brandt couldn’t leave the man defenseless. Releasing the brake, Brandt’s bike sprang forward into the alley. He reached his hand out, but Davidson refused it.
“Do you have a rifle in your pack?” Davidson asked.
Of course Brandt had a rifle in his pack. The question was would he, could he give it to Davidson with a clear conscience? What were the odds that the weapon would be turned on them in the end?
“I’ve never hurt Rebecca,” Davidson stated. “And I never will.”
Brandt scanned the ruined mask of features. Could sincerity really be found there? With shouts and cries filling the streets, Brandt really didn’t care. He needed that fucking sniper taken out. He didn’t have time to unpack the rifle though. Brandt unhooked the bag and tossed it to Davidson. “You better not.”
The kid was already at work getting the rifle out. “I’ll head to a perch and give the sniper something else to worry about, then swing round to covering your exit.”
Gunning the engine, Brandt nodded, not believing what he was about to say. “The fallback rally point is Kvratel six, but—”
“You won’t wait for me,” Davidson said, checking the sight of the rifle. “Wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Good,” Brandt answered before opening the throttle and letting the bike do its thing. So he could do his thing. Racing toward the screaming.
* * *
Davidson dug the feet of the rifle stand into the roof’s gravel. He loosened the swivel and scanned the area. To hit that apartment there were only about three trees to make your nest within the line of sight. And make that shot? The guy had to have a nearly perfect perpendicular angle on the building.
A muzzle flashed amongst the green leaves.
Gotcha. High up in the poplar tree sat the sniper. There was no way Davidson could hit him though. The distance was simply too great, and the wind cut across the meadow.
However, killing the sniper wasn’t why Davidson came up here. They simply didn’t have time to get him to a proper perch for the distance rating on this rifle. Now if he had the M107 LRSR, well that would be a different story. Now though this wasn’t about eliminating the enemy, it was about flustering the enemy. Forcing him to act defensively rather than offensively.
Davidson tilted the rifle down and scanned the area beneath the tree. The sniper probably had a spotter. Someone to keep an eye on the surrounding area so the sniper could focus on hitting a window nearly half a mile away.
A bit of black against the green. And from the curves under that black bodysuit the spotter was a she not a he. Interesting.
Again he couldn’t hit her, but damn if he couldn’t distract her
.
* * *
Aunush ignored the birds that flew up and out of the trees. Since the sniper began shooting, they had startled numerous animals. It was of no concern. Her only concern was the sniper regaining a window into that apartment. They needed to squeeze and squeeze that whore’s hideout until she was crushed. Along with the knowledge of how Osip died.
“Move in, now,” she insisted to her men inside the building.
The loud clatter of gunfire fired her ear. “We’re taking heavy fire.”
All the better, Aunush thought but did not voice. She did not need her men knowing that she really did not want them surviving this battle. “Then return fire and advance.”
Aunush put her binoculars back up to study the sniper’s progress when something flew past her sightline. She refocused and watched again. There it was. Something small but fast. Birds cried out, scattering from the trees.
What was happening?
Then something bit into her cheek. She fingered the wound. A tiny dribble of blood came back. Then another particle nicked her chin. Taking a step back, Aunush turned her attention to far closer to home as a bullet struck the tree to her left, sending bark as shrapnel.
She glanced up to her sniper, whose eyes crackled. He so hated it when another dog entered the fight.
But it could not be. Yet clearly it was the same sniper from back in London. Who was he? Aunush had studied Brandt’s team file. Kark Talli was a skilled sniper. He had to be if he wanted to be on a Special Forces unit. However, he did not possess this kind of mad skills.
Mad skills or not, he did not have the equipment he needed on this mission. If he was busy taking potshots at trees rather than executing precise kill shots at the sniper up in the trees, then he did not have as long a range rifle as her sniper.
With a fierce grin she nodded. The intent clear.
Take him out.
* * *
“Did you hear that?” Lopez asked Rebecca.
Hands over her ears, she answered, “What? The barrage of gunfire?”
The Betrayed Series: Ultimate Omnibus Collection Page 61
