Mystic Warrior

by Alex Archer

  “That has been taken care of.”

  “How?”

  Suddenly, a van pulled into motion only a short distance from the airport turnoff. For a moment, Annja thought it was one of the people who followed her, either de Cerceau or Sabre Race, and prepared to take evasive tactics.

  But the van sped past her and turned suddenly to block the street behind her. Armed men with weapons boiled out of the vehicle.

  In a way, Annja wasn’t surprised that Roux had prepared so well. The old man had been around a long, long time, and he never quite embraced halfway measures when a show of force had to be mustered. When push came to shove, the body count exploded.

  The lead SUV tried to steer around the van, but one of Roux’s band fired a rocket launcher at it. The warhead detonated against the front right wheel and flipped the vehicle over in a slow roll that left it upside down. The SUV spun on its top while flames licked out around the ruined wheel. Black smoke trailed up from the burning rubber.

  The dark blue luxury sedan slid to a stop a couple car lengths back. Annja saw that as she made the turn into the airport security area.

  “There.” Roux sounded pleased with himself. “That should make things easier.”

  “Thanks, Roux.” Annja rolled toward the checkpoint and ignored the looks of disapproval and disbelief directed at her.

  “You’re welcome,” Roux said. “I have to admit, your present situation is...interesting. There have been several rumors of the Merovingian treasure, but I never believed in them. Garin always seemed interested, though. Have you heard from him?”

  “No.” Annja continued to slow and watched as the security guards spread out at the checkpoint. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Of course. Be safe. I will see you soon.”

  Ignoring the impulse to ask Roux what he meant, Annja hung up the phone and replaced it in her pocket.

  “Who are those men?” Racz peered through the side window at the new arrivals.

  “Friends of a friend.” Annja got out her identification and asked for Racz’s.

  The professor took out his passport and handed it over. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to his nose and mouth. “I suppose it’s good to have friends.”

  “Some days.” There were times, though, when Roux and Garin had worked against Annja. She never knew for certain which way they would end up regarding different events. She stopped at the checkpoint and raised her hands, then smiled as disarmingly as she could.

  * * *

  “GET US OUT of here.” De Cerceau glared at the battered SUV trundling across the airport tarmac. He’d hoped it would be held up by security for a time, but it hadn’t been. Annja Creed had been almost within his grasp and had somehow managed to get away. It was galling.

  Gerard turned the car quickly, pulling around the SUV that had followed them. “We may be in for some trouble, Colonel.” He left one hand on the steering wheel and reached for his pistol with the other.

  Down the street, two SUVs pulled into view and stopped. Although de Cerceau couldn’t see inside the vehicles, he felt certain Sabre Race would be in one of them.

  “Let’s avoid them if we can.” De Cerceau watched the cars. “Take a side street and see what they do. They’re more interested in the woman than us. Have the SUV with us stay between us and them.”

  Gerard communicated the orders and tapped the accelerator to get them going again. He pulled into the nearest side street. Neither of the Black Legion vehicles tried to follow.

  De Cerceau gazed back at the airport as police cars with flashing lights arrived on the scene. He opened up his comm to Orayyed. “The woman has made it to the airport. Evidently, she has a flight scheduled out of there. Can you find out her destination?”

  “I am trying.”

  “Let me know the minute you do, and find out what Sabre Race is doing, as well. He may know more than we do at this point. Otherwise he would be focused on retrieving the crystal.” Recognizing that made de Cerceau uneasy. The crystal possibly was no longer the main artifact in the search for the treasure. Whatever the key was now, it lay in Annja Creed’s head. And Sabre Race already knew that.

  “Of course.” Orayyed hesitated. “You should also know that the Los Angeles Police Department has issued a warrant for your arrest.”

  That wasn’t surprising, but it made staying in the United States problematic. De Cerceau chose to focus on Annja Creed. Wherever she was going, he felt certain she wouldn’t be staying in America. All he had to do was follow her out of the country.

  * * *

  “THE ONLY THING I can confirm is that Annja Creed has a private jet waiting for her.”

  Frustrated, Sabre Race watched the satellite feed of Annja Creed getting out of the battered SUV and walking toward a sleek Gulfstream jet. “You don’t know who owns the jet or where it’s going?”

  “Not yet, but give me time. Ownership is hidden behind several shell companies.”

  Sabre let out a breath and hung on to his self-control. After all these years, after all those stories, to know that the Merovingian treasure was out there and he didn’t know where it was proved almost unbearable. The woman was hot on the trail of it, following leads he had no way of knowing.

  And Istvan was there with Annja Creed.

  His phone rang but he didn’t recognize the number. However, the area code confirmed that the call was coming from a German registered number. Heart beating a little faster, and feeling a little more hopeful, Sabre answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Sabre,” a deep voice said. “It’s been a while.”

  Smiling, Sabre nodded as Meszoly drove them away from the airport. Watching the jet take off would have only provided more frustration. “Mr. Braden. Thank you for calling me back. I would never have reached out if it wasn’t something important.”

  “It’s always good to hear from you.”

  Sabre felt that Garin Braden was telling the truth, but there had been some harsh words spoken during the time Sabre left DragonTech. Mr. Braden, and that was how Sabre thought of him, was a good employer who rewarded loyalty. Unfortunately, loyalty didn’t allow for someone to leave to start his own business. Getting over that had taken a while.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Braden said.

  “Have you ever heard of Annja Creed? A television personality with a cable show?”

  “I have.”

  Sabre wasn’t surprised. Braden kept abreast of many things, which was why he was so good in business. “She’s on the trail of the Merovingian treasure. Do you remember me telling you about it?”

  For a moment, only silence sounded at the other end of the connection and Sabre thought the signal had dropped.

  “Mr. Braden?”

  “I’m here. I do remember what you told me. Have you discovered that the treasure is real?”

  “I didn’t, but Annja Creed has. I believe she’s on her way there now.” Sabre clenched his fist. “I don’t want to miss the opportunity to recover that treasure. You know what it means to me and my family.”

  “I do, and I’m going to help you. Just let me know what I can do.”

  Sabre glanced back at the airport and watched as a jet screamed into the sky. He didn’t know if it was the one that carried Annja Creed as a passenger, but one of them would. Or had.

  “I need to know where she’s going,” Sabre said.

  “I can find that out.” Braden sounded coolly confident, as though he knew something Sabre didn’t. And that had been true more times than Sabre could count.

  * * *

  “WELCOME ABOARD, MS. CREED. I am Ian.” An elegant young man in a fashionable pinstripe suit stood in the open doorway of the jet. His blond hair lifted gently in the breeze and his smile was brilliant. His accent was British.


  “Thank you, Ian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Annja pulled herself up the rolling metal stairwell to the door, acutely aware that she was an open target for a sniper. “I wasn’t expecting a jet this big.”

  “Mr. Roux wanted to ensure you would be traveling in comfort. The flight to Spain will take just over twelve hours. He thought you might not want to lay over anywhere.”

  “I don’t.” Annja felt guilty at being so demanding. The flight was expensive, and it wasn’t her jet to begin with.

  “Understood. We have extra fuel tanks to ensure that we can safely travel that distance.” Ian nodded happily. “May I take your bag?”

  Annja kept hold of the backpack. “No, thank you. I can manage.”

  Ian peered past her at the damaged SUV sitting on the tarmac. “I take it there is no other luggage?”

  “We’re traveling light today.” Annja stepped past Ian and into the jet. She looked into the pilot cabin and saw two young women seated there talking to the tower. “You’re not the pilot?”

  Ian smiled again and shook his head. “You wouldn’t want me to be the pilot. I’m simply here to make sure your flight is comfortable.”

  Racz stumbled after her, still holding his handkerchief to his face.

  “And you are Dr. Racz?” Ian placed a hand on the man’s arm to steady him.

  “I am.”

  “Welcome aboard, sir. We have just a few minutes before we clear for takeoff. May I help you clean up and make you more comfortable? I’m also medically certified, if you should need any emergency attention.”

  Racz nodded and allowed himself to be led toward the back of the jet.

  “Please sit anywhere, Ms. Creed.” Ian waved at the wide, comfortable-looking seats that made Annja suddenly realize how tired she was. “There will only be the two of you. If you require a shower, there’s one in the back. We’ve also made up two bedrooms. They’re small but comfortable. If you want to sleep.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s no problem.” Ian reached into a pocket as he passed her with Racz in tow. He took out a satellite phone and handed it to her. “Mr. Roux asked me to make sure you called once you were safely aboard.”

  Annja put her backpack in one of the seats and took another for herself, grateful for the plush cushioning as she settled into it. She punched in Roux’s number from memory.

  “Annja?” Roux sounded slightly tense. “Are you all right?” He spoke in French and she responded in the same language.

  “Thanks for the jet, Roux.” She tried not to think about how odd it was to say that, but she couldn’t help it.

  “My pleasure. You are all right?”

  “Yes. The men you sent are well trained.”

  “They’re paid to be.”

  Annja leaned over to the window and stared out at the street scene. LAPD patrol cars blocked either end of the street and a standoff appeared to be going on. “They’re also going to be in trouble with the police.”

  “Nonsense. Those men are security personnel going about their business. It’ll just take time to get it all sorted. I have lawyers for that. No need to concern yourself.”

  Annja leaned back in her seat. She didn’t know what was more alien about Roux: his seeming immortality or his ability to throw money at problems without a care. Nothing seemed to faze him.

  “The flight crew is exemplary, so they’ll get you to your destination safely,” Roux continued. “However, given the inconvenient lack of privacy in this modern world of yours, there is every chance that the men following you will be able to find you shortly after you arrive in San Sebastián.”

  “San Sebastián?” Annja hadn’t even had time to consult a map. She took her tablet out of her backpack and powered it up. “I need to be in Ordizia.”

  “There are no airports in Ordizia. Thankfully, there are a couple dozen airports around that city, so the men following you won’t be able to watch them all. Still, they may figure out where you’re heading. Be careful.”

  “I don’t have to do anything for the next twelve hours or so.”

  “Try to remember that and get some rest.”

  “I will.” Annja broke the connection and focused on the tablet, looking for anything that might have turned up on her search sites.

  A few minutes later, Ian reappeared with Racz in tow. The professor’s wounds had been cleaned and he looked much better, though his nose and mouth were still swollen. He was also wearing a fresh shirt that replaced the bloodstained one he’d had on.

  He sat down gingerly across from her, and Ian made sure the professor was belted in.

  “Ian.” A woman’s voice broadcast in English from an overhead speaker.

  “Yes?” Ian stood waiting.

  “We’re leaving now.”

  “Very good. Thank you.” Ian turned to Annja and Racz. “Would you care for anything to drink? We have a fully stocked bar and an impressive selection of wines.”

  Annja asked for water and Ian nodded.

  Racz asked for whiskey. Ian disappeared as the jet trundled down the runway to set up for takeoff. He returned only a moment later.

  Settling in with the bottle of water, Annja stared out at the tarmac, where the police officers had men from all the vehicles lying facedown. Even if those people weren’t arrested, she hoped they would be detained long enough to allow her and Racz to quietly disappear at the other end of the journey.

  26

  Not only had the jet come equipped with a shower and bedrooms, but there had also been a selection of clothing in Annja’s size as well as Racz’s. Ian had shown her the small closet when he’d turned down her bed. She supposed he had done the same for Racz and had also offered him a selection of clothing. That explained where the shirt had come from earlier. Roux was nothing if not thorough.

  Despite her efforts to stay awake, Annja had finally given in to the need for sleep. She’d talked to Racz briefly, but he’d told her he didn’t know anything more than he’d already told her. She had the definite impression that he was holding something back, but she didn’t challenge him. She wasn’t always forthcoming with her information, either. Part of the thrill of discovering lost history was being the one to do it.

  She’d showered and slept and now felt almost human again in fresh clothing after a generous breakfast.

  Annja stared out the window at the sparkling waters in the Bay of Biscay. San Sebastián occupied a stretch of the coast and lay only twelve miles west of France. Pleasure boats sped and sailed across the blue-and-green watery expanse. Even though they’d left Santa Monica just over twelve hours before, it was still afternoon when they arrived but was a full day later because of the time change.

  Red tiled roofs covered the houses and buildings that ringed the bay. A tan stripe of beach separated the city from the water. Green vegetation clung to the low hills under a flat layer of fluffy white clouds that held the dark promise of impending rain.

  “Beautiful city.” Racz leaned over Annja and stared through the window, as well. Deep purple bruises ringed his eyes, and she knew that was going to be a problem because people would notice them wherever they went. “Have you been here before?”

  Annja nodded. “A few times. I was always in a hurry, though. I’ve never spent much time here.”

  “You’ve missed a lot.”

  “You’ve been here?”

  “Several times.” Racz pulled back and returned to his seat across from her.

  “Were you searching for the treasure those times?”

  Racz smiled. “No. Despite the excitement you’ve seen in me since yesterday, I haven’t lived my life looking for the treasure. My grandfather did that.” He frowned. “In the end, that anticipation robbed him of much of his life. I know my grandmother would have been happier if he’d stayed ho
me more.” He paused and took a breath as he recollected. “I came out here because I was in love. Spain is a country I love to fall in love in. The Spanish women are exciting and different. And there is nothing comparable to a Basque woman.”

  Annja smiled. “I’ll take your word for that.”

  “They have long ancestral ties to this area. They’re believed to be indigenous people, here long before the French or the Spanish.”

  The pilot called back over the speakers that they were beginning their final descent.

  After she buckled her seat belt, Annja felt the descent push her against the straps. She watched out the window as the jet swooped closer to the bay.

  * * *

  “I HOPE YOU enjoyed your flight with us.” Ian stood to one side of the jet’s doorway.

  “I did.”

  Ian handed her a small valise. “Some more clothes and sundries for you, should you need them.”

  “Thank you.” Annja took hold of the valise. She’d planned on getting extra clothing soon since she’d left her other clothes in Los Angeles, but this would work, and it would save her time and trouble later on. She settled her backpack across her shoulders and looked down at the hunter green Jaguar XF waiting only a few feet away. “Who’s in the car?”

  “Your driver.”

  “My driver?”

  “Mr. Roux thought it would be best if you had a car while in the city and didn’t have to depend on public transport. And renting a car would leave an electronic trail.”

  Annja wasn’t sure about that. It was often easier to vanish while taking public transport than driving a rental.

  “I can drive myself.” It was one thing to be flown into the country, but Annja wanted some control over her movements.

  “I’m sure you can, Ms. Creed. However, I don’t think you know the local terrain well, correct?”

  Reluctantly, Annja agreed.

  “I assure you that you’re in good hands with your driver.”

  Whoever was sitting behind the wheel impatiently blasted the horn a couple of times. Evidently, the good manners maintained aboard the jet were now going to be forgotten.