Sean had barely missed the target’s head, but he’d sent a message.
While Emily ran forward toward the Venezia Tower, he’d covered the rear in case any of the men waiting behind them decided to get brave and move up. To his surprise, it looked like a woman had taken the quick look around the corner.
All of the enemies lay motionless. Suit and tie was gone, but Sean realized there was no time to look for him.
Standing twenty feet away down the hall on the right was a woman in a pair of khaki shorts and a black V-neck tank top. She was holding an HK-5 submachine gun with a silencer on the end. Over top of her shirt hung a thin, black leather coat that stopped just above her knees. Sean stared at her for a moment. Her black hair was down to her chin in the front and a little shorter in the back with tanned skin that spoke of years spent in the sun, probably on a beach. Deep brown eyes stared back at him, sizing him up. When she spoke, her lips seemed to move in slow motion. “We should probably leave,” she said in a distinct Spanish accent.
Emily was less mesmerized by the strange woman’s beauty and more by her impeccable timing. “I agree.”
Just as she spoke, a shot popped from the other end of the corridor. She tucked in behind the corner of the bridge wall. The Spaniard loaded a fresh magazine into her HK-5 and cocked the mechanism.
“What happened to the guy in the suit?” Sean asked.
“I shot him, but he got away,” the mysterious woman answered. “Follow me.”
Sean gave one quick look at Emily and nodded.
The woman took off, leading them down a long, lavish hall of the Venezia Tower. Huge windows to the left opened into a pool area filled with wrought iron fences, gazebos, and vine rails. Above, on the domed ceiling, were more ornate frescoes done in the Venetian style with more cherubim, warriors, and bare-chested women. Seemed to be a common theme. Along the walls, gas powered sconces burned flickering flames constantly. Their savior stopped and cut into an alcove where a concierge desk was unoccupied. Sean and Emily followed.
“What are we doing?” Emily asked, confused.
The chiseled, feminine face turned. Her dark eyes peered at Starks. “Making sure they don’t follow us.”
With that, the woman peeked around the corner at the five men charging recklessly toward their position.
She pulled up her weapon and trained a laser sight on one of the sconces close to where the men were running. She waited a moment then squeezed the trigger.
The candle erupted, sending a jet of flame across the room. One of the attackers was caught by the burst, his upper body disappearing in the fire. He emerged on the other side and tried to douse the flames by rolling on the floor, but the damage was done. The rest of the men stayed back, not seeing a way around the fire that continued to pour from the wall at shoulder level. All they could do was listen to their comrade screaming in agonizing pain. The Spaniard looked satisfied and glanced back at the other two. “Let’s go.”
A sharp, burning pain radiated from James’s shoulder. He’d turned just as a woman had started firing on his position. The bullet had ripped through a part of his shoulder’s skin but fortunately was not a direct hit. Amid the chaos, he’d retreated around a corner behind the restaurant, trying to take up a better position until his partner’s unit moved in to assist. He hoped they would arrive soon.
He listened as her group pursued the targets down the large corridor. Just as he decided it was safe to join them in the chase, a bright orange flame reflected down the hallway walls, accompanied by a flash of heat. Ducking back for a second, he then peeked around the corner to see the wall of flame engulfing one of Angela’s men and sending her and the others falling back. Sprinklers on the ceiling began to shower the area with water. Perhaps he would need to head off their quarry by taking a different route.
Angela had jumped back as the bright flames roared across the hall. She lifted one arm to protect her face from the sudden surge of heat. As she turned her head away, she thought she noticed something near the corner at the end of the hall but had to dismiss whatever it was. Sprinklers had come on soon after the explosion. She could hear sirens in the distance, which meant they were running out of time. One thing she liked about the casino-hotels was that most of their surveillance efforts were concentrated on the gaming floors. Very little attention was paid to the hallways or adjoining corridors, so at least they wouldn’t be identifiable.
Through the flames, she could make out the outline of the man that had been burned and knew she couldn’t risk leaving him there to possibly survive. So, Angela raised her weapon and fired two rounds through the inferno, planting a bullet into the man’s chest just as he rolled onto his side. The wailing faded away sharply. She turned to the remaining men and pointed around the corner to the rear. “That way.”
Chapter 10
Nevada Desert
Alexander Lindsey began to open the passenger door to the helicopter before it had completely touched down. He was outraged that his subordinates would undermine his intricate plans. He would need to put them both in their places so that such an occurrence would never happen again.
Rosicrucians had been extremely secretive in the Middle Ages. If the sacred bond of trust was broken, a terrible fate awaited the offender. When the Order of the Golden Dawn was founded, they adopted many of the sacred rites and rituals of the Rosicrucians, including their laws and punishments. Throughout their history there had been few challenges to authority.
In the early days of the Order, some celebrities were permitted to join. Temples were opened in various parts of England, Scotland, and France. Just like any empire, they’d overextended themselves. It was difficult for the three primary adepts to maintain control of all the different temple followers. Some of the underlings had wanted to know more than they were permitted by their sacred documents, the Cipher Manuscripts, allowed.
Lindsey strode across the stone landing platform and through a recessed entrance on the side of the mansion that led to a large wooden door. He swung the heavy thing open and stormed inside to a dark hallway. The air inside was much cooler and damper than the desert outside. One of his bodyguards hurried to keep up and closed the door behind him while the Agusta’s engine began to wind down on the helipad. “I want you to call the others and have them here within the hour,” Alexander said to the bodyguard. “They have some explaining to do.”
“Yes, sir,” the man nodded and veered off down a separate hallway.
A few steps later, Alexander turned into a much larger, vaulted corridor. It was lit with electrical wall sconces, and the illumination revealed cherry-wood paneling that matched the floor. He slowed down his pace slightly, walking by old paintings along the way. The portraits seemed to be arranged in a sort of chronological order, from oldest to newest. He’d had all of the paintings brought over from Europe. It had taken quite a bit of work to find them all. But with some diligence, he’d recovered the pictures of every Imperator of the Order since its inception.
The Imperators were the unquestioned leaders of the society. Although the two other adepts were of nearly equal authority, the Imperator made command decisions whenever the need arose. Their Cipher Manuscripts, however, never called for anything like what his two adepts had done, a fact he was going to remind them of shortly.
After making his way beyond the portraits, he turned into a room furnished with a lavish oak desk and a stone fireplace in the center of the outer wall. His feet carried him, almost unconsciously, over to the bar he’d had installed when the fortress was built. The study was his favorite place to forget everything in the outside world. It was also his favorite place to drink, usually alone. Although from time to time he would allow himself the less discreet pleasures the world possessed. He was the Prophet, not the Saint.
His bodyguard entered the vast chamber as he finished pouring himself a glass of scotch. He loved the drink. Single malt, eighteen years old. Not like the crap they served at most restaurants.
“Would y
ou like some ice, sir?” the guard asked.
He waved his hand signaling that he didn’t. Instead, he asked, “Are they on their way?”
The strong young man nodded, his expression never changing. “They should arrive within the hour, sir.”
“Good,” Lindsey said with a sneer. His eyes narrowed at the thought of putting his associates in their place.
Chapter 11
Atlanta
“Password?” Tommy wondered out loud. “I have no idea what that could be.” He leaned back again and thought for thirty seconds. Where was this all going? The last several weeks had been insane. People had been killed. And even though the discovery of the chamber had been an amazing one, part of him wished he’d never seen that stone. Then he had an idea. He leaned forward and typed in the word Akhanan into the dialogue box and hit enter. The computer screen flicked and switched to a program that Tommy had never seen. It was Nichols’s culminating work, a masterpiece of programming genius that could, apparently, unscramble almost any ciphered message conceivable, even ancient dialects. At the top of the page that appeared, it simply said Tommy’s Project.
Will leaned in closer to see what the rest of the computer had to reveal.
The translation was worked out in a short amount of time, considering the obscurity and randomness of the symbols. I’m not sure what the translation means. I’ll leave that to you. I hope this helps.
Terrance
In desert mountains above the meadows’ sand, the sunlight points the way. The lions watch the gate to the spider’s lair. Though the distance is great, take guidance from the eagle’s wings to the river between the great mountains in the southern land. Leaves of three unlock the door.
“Apparently, Dr. Nichols had solved the language problem before he was murdered,” Tommy said in a reverent tone.
“What does it mean?” Will asked.
Tommy thought for a moment. The lions watch the gate. There were a lot of things he knew and understood about history, but for this one nothing came to mind. “I’m gonna have to call Mac. He’s the expert on this sort of thing. But I’ll have to wait until the morning. He’ll be asleep by now.”
Will nodded, understanding. “Just give me a shout when you talk to him.”
“Sure thing.” Then he added, “Will?”
The two men had stood to leave the room. It was mostly quiet now. The hours of work done by a slew of detectives and investigators had come to an end, and Tommy could see the crime scene beyond the small office was now vacant save for the humming computers.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for letting me know...you know, about this. Terrance was a friend.”
Will understood. “Trust me, Tommy, I’m going to make whoever did this pay dearly.”
There was an odd sort of determination in the cop’s voice, almost sinister. Tommy passed it off and led the way out the door of the lab.
Chapter 12
Las Vegas
The mystery woman led the way down the long corridor, past the pool area outside, and to a smaller hallway ending at some stairs and elevators.
Normally, Sean would have suggested taking the stairs, but the lifts in the Venetian were so fast, he figured speed was worth the slight risk of running into more trouble. They rounded a turn that opened up into an elevator room, and Sean pressed the down button. It only took a few seconds before one of the six doors signaled with a ding that it had arrived. The three rushed in, and the strange woman hit the button that would take them to the level where they could access the parking garage.
Two older women in fanny packs and visors looked at the three of them with wide-eyed terror.
“Fake guns,” he waved the piece casually. “We’re with one of those reality-experience groups,” Sean said to the ladies with a smile as they stared at the weapons. “You know, we make you feel like you’re actually having the experience of being with a bunch of special agents.”
One of the ladies turned to the other. “Ooooh. I told you we needed to do one of those things, Beverly.” She turned back to Sean, “Which company are y’all with?” The woman’s deep Southern accent was unmistakable.
He raised an eyebrow. Before he could answer, the elevator mercifully reached their destination.
Saved by the bell.
The door opened, and the three of them exited quickly into the hallway, careful to conceal their weapons.
Fortunately, the foreigner had the coat she could use to hide her larger gun. Probably how she got into the hotel without being noticed. Well, that and any security personnel were probably not checking her out for weapons. “This way,” she said. They walked quickly past a few closed newsstands and coffee shops and through a pair of glass double doors. Once into the parking garage, they stopped, each one looking around to make sure the coast was clear. “My car is at the other end,” the woman declared.
Carefully, they started walking quickly toward the other side of the level. “Who are you?” Emily asked. “And why are you helping us?”
The woman turned her head and shot Emily a searing glance. “The second question will have to wait for now. My name is Adriana Villa.”
About eighty feet away, a door began to open up on the side of the huge area. The barrel of a gun emerged followed by a few of the men from before. Adriana and the others dropped to the floor behind a row of cars just as a muffled pop echoed off the concrete walls and floor.
“We’ve found them in the parking garage,” Angela said into her radio. Her team had discovered an alternate route to the parking level through a separate series of hallways and elevators. “Where are you?” she asked.
James answered in a quiet voice through the earpiece, “I’m right behind them.”
At the other end, Sean attempted to aim his gun through the maze of tires and bumpers, but he couldn’t get a clear shot. “How much farther to your car?” he asked Adriana as a window shattered nearby.
“It’s the black Audi SUV at the end,” Adriana replied and pointed toward a vehicle that sat another hundred feet away.
“OK. Just stay low, and they shouldn’t be able to get off a clear shot.” He hoped that was the case since he couldn’t get a clean angle either.
They began creeping along, staying low to the ground. Sean watched the feet behind the rows of cars as they split up and moved around to flank their position. Then he heard the garage access door to their rear creaking. Someone was behind them.
James eased open the heavy service door to the garage and was instantly furious at how loud the action had been. Surely the creaking had given away his position. Still, if Weaver and her remaining men did their job it wouldn’t matter. They could squeeze their quarry into a tight space and then execute them. He shifted his weight, crouching low as he led with the long silencer barrel through the slight opening in the doorway before peeking around the edge.
Sean noticed the black box of the sound suppressor easing into view. They would be sitting ducks if they stayed put. Emily and Adriana saw what he was looking at and read his mind. They needed to get out of the aisle. Moving as one, they darted out of the thoroughfare and into the next row of cars just clear of the line of sight from the opening door. The three all stayed low, watching as the newcomer moved quickly to the first set of cars in the row where they were hiding. All they could see was feet in between the tires. The villains were going to try to hem them in.
The sound of a car engine revved from the end of the room where Adriana’s vehicle waited. It was accompanied by the deep thumping from a subwoofer. Sean watched as a silver Cadillac Escalade rounded the turn into the parking area, headed directly for the men and woman who were trying to flank their position. The driver was apparently unaware of what was happening. As the odd scene of hitmen dressed in black and armed with guns appeared in front of the driver, he stopped the large SUV. Sean couldn’t see inside because of the windows were tinted far darker than most state laws permitted. For a long, awkward moment, everything in the building was fr
ozen in a stalemate. The hit squad was still crouched down, facing the oversized Cadillac. Then one of the back windows began to roll down, and Sean could see a familiar black object in the driver’s hand.
The silence erupted into a volley of shots as guns on both sides of the rear seat opened fire on the crouching assailants, who returned rounds of their own at the silver SUV. The sudden shooting sent the pursuers diving for cover. Sean glanced at the other two as if questioning whether they knew what was going on. Both women shook their heads, confused. “Get us out of here then,” he said to Villa. He didn’t have to say it twice.
Adriana bolted toward her car, using the fray behind the other row of vehicles as a moment of distraction. The parking lights of the car beeped, signaling that she had unlocked the black Audi. Emily and Sean ran after her, and all three reached her ride in mere seconds.
James watched the chaos unfold. Two of Angela’s men had already been downed. She and the others were pinned back, only able to sneak a few shots from behind a few cars. The diversion had given Wyatt enough time to escape.
But who was in the Escalade? Did Wyatt have someone helping him? Surely not. He was in Vegas—on vacation. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete and steel around him. He had to help Weaver. Sean Wyatt and his two accomplices would have to wait.
James jumped out of his position and darted toward the Escalade from the side, pounding the driver’s window and door with rounds from his Glock. Before the man in the back could react, another two bullets were sent into the dark interior. The dark hand holding the gun lurched backward violently as bullets found their target. James assumed one of his shots had found their mark and emptied the rest of his magazine into the silhouette of the driver and the remaining man in the back seat.
Adriana revved the engine, backing her Q7 out quickly then wheeling the car around the row. The tires squealed as they peeled around the drive and down into the exit tunnel.
Sean Wyatt Compilation Box Set Page 33
