Raiders

CHAPTER TWENTY

Kiya looked back at the American archaeologist for a second and turned and fled. She had what she needed — the Nectanebo Codex. All she had to do now was deliver it to the Lion, and with luck she would never see these people again. But who were they? Their fighting and persistence was impressive. Perhaps the Hidden Hand would reach into their lives and find out everything about them.

“Venite!” she whispered urgently, and without warning she turned on a dime and walked with purpose toward the street, a gun held tightly in her right hand. Walking in the rain-soaked London night, the cool rain felt good on her face as she filled her lungs with the damp air and decided what to do next.

They fled through the London crowd, bobbing and weaving as she went but never drawing attention to her presence. With each step she took, she brought the future that Occulta Manu wanted for the world a little bit closer to reality.

With the codex in her pocket, Kiya looked over her shoulder and watched the chaos unfolding back at the museum. Turning into Oxford Street, she saw a police car screech toward her and pull up on the sidewalk.

She saw her two Ravens in their long black trench coats reaching for their lethal M6s and lifting them into the aim. The policemen fired first, but the Ravens ended the gunfight in seconds. They all heard the screams of innocent pedestrians now running for their lives on the sidewalk and then she saw a cab driver who was distracted by the sight of the gunfight; the taxi mounted the sidewalk and crashed into a bus stop.

Havoc exploded all over the street now. People whipped out their phones and called the police, others ran for cover wherever they could find it. One party of Chinese tourists on the top deck of an open-top bus leaned over the side and started filming it as if it were a movie.

Leaving Ezra and the others back at the museum to deal with the authorities, Mason, Zara and Caleb sprinted after the thieves, stumbling out into the night to find the corpses of the dead anti-terror policemen and Dunford sprawled on the steps of the British Museum. Somewhere in the distance they heard the sound of car alarms and panicked people screaming.

“Bastards must be over there,” Mason muttered, and he knew he had only seconds before they would be gone forever. “This way.”

They moved faster now, speeding up the pace until they were almost at a jog. As they reached the bottom of the steps they saw several more armed policemen outside the entrance. They crossed the road and ran toward the sounds of chaos. Turning a corner they found themselves on Oxford Street in the middle of a scene of terror — a cab had smashed through a bus stop and its crumpled, smoking wreckage had come to a stop inside a store’s window display.

Passing a bus, he kept his gun raised as he cut over the road and hit the other sidewalk. Caleb and Zara were now crossing the road ahead of him, each keen to be the first into the fight.

“You see them?” he called out.

Zara shook her head as she scanned the mayhem. “No sign of the assholes yet.”

“Dammit!”

“Over there!” Caleb said. “They’re heading toward the underground station — and I see the codex!”

Mason saw it too, clutched tightly in the hand of the man the woman had called Dariush. “It’s now or never, guys. Let’s end this.”

Walking faster now, Kiya turned her head and located the tall man with the black hair and blue eyes. He seemed to be their leader — or was it the thin man in the suit with the American accent they had left back at the museum? She had to know more about them.

“Keep them busy!” she yelled and then snapped pictures of the three of them on her phone as Tekin and Dariush unleashed a savage volley of automatic fire from the two weapons.

Tekin aimed at the front tire of another bus and blasted the rubber to shreds. The bus collapsed down like a wounded dog and swerved into the center of the busy road. The driver struggled with the steering wheel but it was too late and the enormous vehicle struck the front of a black cab, shunting it around in a circle and pushing it in the path of more on-coming traffic.

A bright yellow Ferrari F12 raced into the mayhem. Aimed straight at the carnage in the middle of the road it was going too fast to stop. The driver spun the wheel hard to avoid a collision with the black cab but crashed into a Suzuki motorbike who was pulling out wide to avoid the same fate.

The smash was fast and hard; the motorcyclist sailed over the top of the sports car and landed on his back with a sickening cracking sound. The Ferrari crashed into the front of a shop with the Suzuki wedged under its front grille.

Kiya was satisfied that Tekin and Dariush were performing properly. They were defending their Bride at all costs and doing everything they could to make the mission a success. She was optimistic the Lion would also be satisfied. Chaos from order was the Hidden Hand’s precious gift to the world, and the high-ranking members of the order thrived on it. The mayhem was their sustenance. It gave them life to see others struggling to survive, and Kiya wanted to feel it more than anything; breathe in that sensation of total power that only the highest members knew.

She sprinted and jumped on to the roof of the Ferrari to get a better view of the assault. The confused and dazed driver pushed down his window and pulled himself half out to yell at her.

“What the fuck do you thi…”

She powered her knee-high boot into his face and knocked him out cold. She hadn’t even looked at him, and as he slumped back down inside the luxury car she kept her dark eyes fixed on the battle raging across the street. The Ravens were forcing the enemy back toward a newly formed police cordon.

“Nunc, imus!” she said.

Tekin and Dariush heard the sharp, almost metallic voice and obeyed at once, turning in their coats and running back toward the Bride.

Kiya turned and leaped from the roof of the Ferrari. The tails of her black trench coat flicked up into the air as she landed with a gentle thud on the oil-soaked sidewalk.

Flanked by her Ravens, she slid her unused gun back inside her holster and marched swiftly through the crowd. She ordered the men to knock out the CCTV as they weaved in and out of the panic, and they followed the orders to the letter, each choosing a different side of the street.

In perfect synchronicity, they blasted out every CCTV camera in their vision, and then, unseen, they followed their Bride toward Tottenham Court Road underground station.