Dane raised his hands — one of them still entwined with Alex’s — and backed away from the mouth of the passage as John Lee Ray, with Scalpel and three other men in tow, filed into the chamber.
“You fellows look like hell. Take a wrong turn back there?” There was an edge to Bones’ voice, and Dane could hear the barely restrained rage behind the sarcasm.
Bones wasn’t wrong. Ray’s handsome face was merely streaked with sweat and grime, but the others appeared to have gone through the wringer. One man appeared to have escaped from a fire; his clothes were scorched and there were angry red burns on his hands and bald head. Another had a makeshift bandage around his head. His thigh was also bound tightly, and whatever injury he had suffered had evidently left him barely ambulatory. Scalpel was there as well, bent over as if every step was agony, the relative higher altitude of the Alps doubtless exacerbating the lingering symptoms of his decompression sickness. The sufferings of the rest of Ray’s men were almost certainly, as Bones had intimated, the result of Templar traps, but their wounds in no way lessened the lethality of the pistols they brandished.
Scalpel twisted around in Bones direction and took aim. Dane tensed, certain that the man was about to pull the trigger, and he sensed that Bones knew it too. They were both ready to move, ready to take whatever punishment Ray and his men could throw at them, and fight through it if meant a chance for payback.
“Put it away,” said Ray, sharply. “We are not uncivilized. Whatever misfortunes have befallen us, we cannot attribute them to Mr. Maddock.”
He turned to face Dane. “I am actually quite impressed, Mr. Maddock. How ever did you deduce the correct path through the maze?”
“It was a group effort.”
“Well, remarkable. I myself did not immediately recognize the nature of the test, and you can see the result.” He gestured to his men, none of whom looked terribly pleased by their employer’s behavior. “But then I saw this place for what it was; a spiritual test. Walk the true path of God, and the way will open. Now only one test remains, and I think you have earned the right to lead the way.”
Dane wasn’t fooled for a second. “Drop the act. You just want us to go first to clear any traps.”
“You seem to have a knack for avoiding them. I would be a fool to dispose of someone with your talents. My offer to you stands. We need not be foes.”
“We’ve heard this crap from you before,” Bones spoke up, his tone still as sharp as a knife edge. “You kind of ruined any chances of that happening when you killed Gabby.”
Ray waved dismissively. “She betrayed you. You should thank us for repaying her treachery in kind.”
Bones was about to say something more, but Dane held up his hand. “Bones, let’s do what the man asks. I’m kind of curious to see what’s up there, and it’s not like things will get any worse for us if we do.”
Dane hoped that Bones would hear the unspoken message: Wait for it. We’ll get our chance. Bones didn’t say anything more, and Dane decided to take that as an indication that the message had been received.
He turned and moved without hesitation to stand beside Bones. “Just in case, remember the count. Every third step.” He shone his light up the steps meaningfully, and in a low voice added, “Quick time.”
There weren’t any visible murder holes and Dane was fairly certain that, at this stage in the game, the Templars would have assumed that any unwelcome intruder would have figured out how to avoid triggering such a trap. But if Ray and his men were focused on watching their steps as they brought up the rear, it might provide the distraction needed for Dane and Bones to turn the tables.
Bones nodded and managed to mostly hide a grin, then took an easy stride to the third step. Instead of bringing his feet together there, he brought his trailing foot up to the sixth step, and continued in this manner, setting a quick pace that was more than Ray’s injured men could match. In a matter of seconds, Scalpel and the man with the thigh injury had fallen behind by half a turn of the spiral.
“Slow down,” growled Ray.
Dane looked over his shoulder. Ray had the barrel of his gun just inches away from the small of Alex’s back, but Dane sensed that this might be the chance they had been waiting for. As he turned back around, he made eye contact with Alex. “Watch your step. Whatever you do…” He nodded his head three times, hoping that that she would catch his rhythm. “Don’t…trip.”
There seemed to be a look of comprehension in her eyes, so he nodded out the rhythm again. One…two….
And on three, he threw himself forward, onto the stairs. Alex matched his movements, and for the briefest of moments, Ray had no target.
Dane kicked back, driving his feet into Ray’s chest. His pistol discharged, the report ear-shattering in the confines of the underground chamber, but the bullet struck only the curving wall and ricocheted harmlessly away. Ray flailed his arms uselessly, trying to keep his balance while avoiding a potential trigger step, and started to go over backward. Dane didn’t wait to see how that would play out, but sprang to his feet, pulling Alex up, and bounded forward. Bones, was already racing ahead, still taking three steps at a time, though probably not because he was afraid of setting off a trap.
They completed a full circuit of the spiral before Ray could muster pursuit, but because the mercenaries were so spread out, there was no place on the spiral where they were not at least partially exposed. More shots sounded, some of the rounds striking close enough to pepper the fleeing trio with tiny stone projectiles.
Bones reached the top and slid to a halt, confounded by one last obstacle. Dane and Alex reached his side a moment later and saw another arched doorway, blocked by a wall of blank stone. The arch appeared to be constructed of stone blocks, rather than carved from bedrock, and each one was decorated with a different symbol. There were the usual Templar marks — the distinctive cross, the Dome of the Rock, the fleur-de-lis, two knights riding one horse — as well as others that appeared to be heraldic seals — a lion, a gryphon, a two-headed eagle. There were astronomical signs and there geometric shapes.
“The final test,” breathed Dane.
One of the symbols was an obtuse triangle, exactly like the key, though larger. Clearly, the key was not meant to fit here.
“Maybe it’s like a key pad,” suggested Bones.
The shots had momentarily stopped, but the sounds of shouts and footsteps were getting louder.
“Here goes nothing.” Dane pushed the block with the triangle. It slid back an inch or so, but that was all that happened.
“Nothing is right,” muttered Bones.
“It’s a combination lock,” suggested Alex. “Try the cross.”
Dane found the distinctive Greek-cross with its equal arms flaring slightly at the end, and pressed that block.
Still nothing.
“The circle.” Alex, frantic, didn’t wait for Dane to press the block, but instead pushed it herself. There was thud from behind the slab and then it abruptly moved out of the way.
They bustled through, heedless of any further traps. Once through the arch, they saw that the slab was actually a circle, like an ancient tombstone. There were square holes cut in it, corresponding to several of the blocks on the doorpost. The correct blocks had evidently nudged the stone just enough to cause it to roll down a very slight decline. Pushing the wrong blocks would have locked the slab in a closed position.
“Get the door!” shouted Dane
Bones seemed to comprehend the message. While Dane pushed the three combination blocks back out of their recessed position, Bones braced himself against the stone circle and started pushing. It took Dane only a moment to complete his task and then he added his strength to Bones’ endeavor.
Through the arch, Dane saw the glow of lights growing brighter as Ray and his men bounded up the stairs, closing the gap. The circle began to move, slowly at first, but once its inertia was overcome, it picked up speed. Dane caught just a glimpse of a human outline, blazing flashlight in hand, before the great round slab rolled back into place, sealing out the pursuers.
Dane and Bones both slumped with their backs against the closed portal, panting to catch their breath after the exertion.
After a few moments, Bones said, “Tell me again how that improves our situation.”
“They’re out there. We’re in here.”
“I’m still not clear on exactly how that works in our favor.”
“Me either,” confessed Dane. “It was the best I could come up with on short notice.”
He got to his feet and shone his light at the door slab. Because of the decline, it would take only a little effort to roll the door out of the way again. Dane didn’t think he could rely upon Ray mistakenly pushing one of the locking blocks into place.
“We need to wedge this thing shut.” He searched the area with his light, looking for something — a loose rock or piece of debris — and finding nothing, checked his pockets. His fingers closed on the copper facsimile of the medallion. It seemed somehow appropriate to use the Templar’s key to lock the door. He slipped it into the rolling track and wedged it under the round slab.
“Look!” whispered Alex, directing her own flashlight into the far reaches of the chamber in which they now found themselves.
It wasn’t nearly as big as Dane had expected. The ceiling was perhaps twelve feet high, the room appeared to be a square at least fifty feet on each side. There were shelves along the side walls and a few tables arranged haphazardly about the center, but no other furnishings.
And no treasure.
The shelves and tables were bare. If this was a treasure vault, it had been picked clean.
The room however, was not empty.
Alex’s light fell up nine figures standing motionless in the center of the room. They might have been mannequins, posed suits-of-armor, but for two important distinctions.
Instead of armor, their attire was modern; a grayscale urban camouflage pattern uniform. They wore black tactical vests, with pouches for spare magazines and a brace of hand grenades, and a black beret with the seal of the Templars on the decorative flash. Instead of swords, they had machine pistols.
They were also alive.
Alex’s light fell up on a familiar figure in the center. He stood taller and straighter than Dane remembered, but maybe that was the effect of the uniform. He also wore a holstered pistol though his right arm was in a cast and slung across his chest.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show,” said Edward Lord Hancock.