Crusader's Gold

THIRTY SIX

Alicia jumped from the train before it had entirely stopped, dragging a merc along with her. She let him collapse to the floor and picked up his superfluous gun, then spun and took aim at the melee.

Another window shattered, but this time it was Russo lunging out of the way of Kenzie’s sword. Both Crouch and Caitlyn advanced up the aisle, guns raised and firing when they saw a clean shot. A merc jumped out of the other carriage door and stared at her.

“Get down,” she said with a warning in her voice.

Predictably, he came at her. She fired two shots into his vest and then rendered him unconscious. Kenzie attacked Russo on the train with the sword. Alicia saw it thrust through the shattered window. She ran to the door.

“Get your fat ass out here, Bridget! We have something to settle.”

Enraged, Kenzie swung away from Russo and clambered toward Alicia. Backing away, she gave herself space out on the platform, probably a bad idea because it gave her opponent room to swing.

And maybe not.

Fighters who relied too much on a single move or a preferred weapon never understood that in addition to it being their great strength, it was also their Achilles heel.

Alicia allowed Kenzie a few practice swings, eyeing her all the while, both women circling. She threw her gun to the floor. She smiled into Kenzie’s eyes.

“They’re gonna love you in prison, Bridge.”

Kenzie stepped and sliced the katana downward in shallow thrusts, again and again, each one aimed at Alicia’s shoulders. There was no full swing, only stabs. Alicia danced aside, backing toward the archway and the stairs beyond in case she needed to reduce Kenzie’s space. The tip of the blade sliced across the top of her chest, just tearing the jacket slightly. Kenzie changed the backswing into a sharp lunge.

Alicia didn’t try to dodge, just judged and stepped back a little. The edge of the katana drove into her vest, penetrating hard but only so far. Alicia’s perceptiveness was perfect. The blade stuck for a moment, throwing Kenzie off balance, its tip not quite reaching Alicia’s bare skin.

Swatting the katana aside, she struck with devastating skill and speed. A heel into Kenzie’s knee, the front of a boot to her sternum. Stepping in, she deployed missile-like strikes to more weak spots, making Kenzie’s ears bleed as she slammed fists into them. A groan escaped the Israeli rebel. On her knees she tried to lunge for Alicia’s discarded gun.

“Desperate to the end.”

Alicia stood on the fingers, though careful not to break them. She was no sadist. Kenzie withdrew her arm quickly. Russo suddenly came lumbering up.

“You okay?”

“Oh, now you ask? When the crazy sword wielder’s kneeling at my feet.”

Russo skimmed the train with his eyes. “Just mopping up in there. So this is the end of the line, huh? The Ritz?”

“Who knows?” Alicia wondered where the staircase might lead. “Could be an old passage. The owners might not even know of its existence.”

Crouch joined them. “Everyone okay, I see. Let’s grab this piece of crap and head on up. And see what we can see.”

Alicia reached down and, with Russo’s help, took her time restraining Kenzie. At first, threat was simply not enough. The feisty Israeli gave as good as she got. Alicia saw a little of herself in the woman’s eyes. Shit, I need to bury that thought as far down as it will go! Russo took a blow to the thigh; Alicia two to the head. In the end it was the gun that calmed Kenzie down, along with the mad glint in Alicia’s eyes.

Calm the fuck down or I will shoot you.

The threat was clear between gazes. Clear as crystal.

Healey came up panting, Caitlyn alongside. The black-haired girl didn’t realize she was spattered with blood and Alicia wasn’t about to point it out to her. Little steps, she thought. Taken one by one.

Crouch passed through the archway, ignoring the elevator. Even now they might be on some kind of covert CCTV but the rising car would surely announce their arrival. The stairs were the better choice. He rose steadily, followed by his team. At the top the staircase opened onto a half-circle landing, constructed of stone and overlaid with Italian marble. The surface was slippery.

Before them stood a cage door like an old elevator, and beyond that a set of high double doors, clad again in Italian marble. Crouch paused. “This wasn’t just built for the Hercules,” he said. “I imagine the route between here and Hyde Park has existed for longer than we thought.”

“Do you think the Duke utilized it this way?” Caitlyn asked.

Crouch pulled a face. “It’s possible, but I’m doubtful,” he said. “More like a secret group possibly even with connections to Napoleon and ancestors who viewed the Hercules back when Constantinople was of consequence. But I do believe he looked upon it. And that leads us to another point…” he glanced around at Kenzie. “How did you find it?”

“A door inside the Wellington Arch,” she whispered. “Don’t look so shocked. I know everything about you. Do you remember when your unit was destroyed?”

Crouch clenched his fists. “Of course. The Ninth Division was ambushed, usurped.”

“Save it. Because one man survived. One you left for dead.”

Both Russo and Healy ducked forward now, having believed they were the only survivors. “Who?”

“I want a deal.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Alicia pushed Kenzie toward the cage door. “You and your deals. Take a walk.”

“One man knows all your contacts, all your moves. We knew what you knew almost as you knew it. Paris, London. The congress and the poem. You really need to learn to keep your mouth shut.”

Crouch had almost stopped her, but now realized Kenzie would be better dealt with later. They waited for Russo to break through the lock and then pulled the cage doors apart. The high doors beyond had but a single lock near a single handle. Alicia pushed hard at the tiny gap.

The doors didn’t budge.

“We may have a problem.”

Crouch and Caitlyn cast around but found no way of opening the door.

Russo clicked his fingers. “One of the mercs was carrying a shotgun,” he said. “I’ll nip back and grab it.”

“Cool,” Alicia said. “And if it doesn’t work we’ll use Kenzie’s ass to mow it into rubble.”

Kenzie hissed at the Englishwoman. Russo moved off to a final call from Alicia: “Hope you don’t get scared on your own, Robbie!” to which Crouch ordered Healey to follow in case any of the mercs had been faking.

Minutes passed. Alicia passed the time bating Kenzie and strapping the woman’s sword to Caitlyn’s back. At last Russo returned with the shotgun and angled it at the small lock.

“Take cover.”

The boom resounded in their eardrums. The doors shattered apart. Alicia passed through the ruins very carefully, to find herself in an abandoned ballroom, emerging from behind the stage. They looked to the walls and saw no windows.

“Basement.” Crouch nodded. “As expected.” He studied the destroyed set of doors at their back. “Looks like it was concealed behind a hanging mural like the walls of the rest of the room.”

How many other secret passageways lay concealed around them?

They trooped on, climbing more stairs and finally emerging at the end of a long corridor. The Ritz was extensive, one of the world’s most prestigious and famous hotels. An icon for high society and extravagance it was well known during the war as a place where secret meetings were held.

Now, the team passed along a rich and sumptuously appointed carpet, following a winding corridor that appeared to be somewhere near the back of the establishment. A tour up a winding staircase and another two corridors and they began to hear the sound of hushed conversation and chinking of fine tableware. A waiter passed them by, at first confused but then quickly accepting, and then two more. Alicia whistled at the high chandeliers, the ornate trimmings and lavish flower arrangements.

Crouch stopped. “This is the Palm Court.” He stood at the entrance to a luxurious restaurant. Cream-colored walls, gilded armchairs and gilt bronze mirrors greeted them. The clientele all spoke quietly, leaning over their tables or delicately prodding their veal sweetbreads and fruit soufflés. Alicia saw a path toward the exit.

“Shall we make a run for it?”

“I think so and quickly,” Crouch responded. “All this excess is about to make me ill.”

Kenzie leaned in close to Alicia’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t you prefer to linger? Maybe grab some quail?”

It was so incongruous that it made Alicia hesitate. What the hell…

Then her gaze fell upon the table to their right. Somebody waved. Alicia made out the face of Daniel Riley.

Crouch stiffened.

Next to Riley sat Beauregard Alain.