Raiders

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Deep in Paddington Green Police Station, Eva tipped the ancient copper tube up and the piece of old, yellowed paper slid into her hand. The building is the most high-security police station in the United Kingdom, infamously known as the interrogation center for the most dangerous terror suspects, but today it was hosting a very much older and more dangerous threat.

Checking the tube was empty she set it down on the side of Inspector Henderson’s desk and carefully unfurled the paper. It felt fragile in her hands, but she was very familiar with ancient documents and how to handle them, which is why she had requested a pair of latex gloves from the police. They weren’t optimal, like the nitrile gloves she usually wore, but they were better than nothing. God knows how much damage had been inflicted on it since the Hidden Hand stole it.

Mason spoke first. “Is it okay?”

Eva looked at him and sighed heavily. “Hope so. Looks like some idiot has slopped coffee on it.”

Mason shook his head with disappointment. “Some people…”

Ezra stepped in. “What does it say?”

“Yes, what’s this all about?” said Inspector Henderson.

“Is it the map?” said Milo.

Eva read the words on the old, yellowed, paper and shook her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe this.”

“Come on, Eva,” said Mason. “Put us out of our misery.”

Eva handed it to him, a look of consternation on her face. “Take a look for yourself.”

Mason took the paper and his eyes danced over the neatly written words. “What the hell is this?”

“Not the codex,” said Ella with a frown. “That’s for damn sure.”

“Check out who wrote it,” Eva said. “It’s signed right at the bottom.”

She watched Mason look down at the signature. A vague smile played on his lips and he slowly shook his head in disbelief. “Is this for real?”

“Is what for real?” Zara said. “Someone needs to tell me what’s going on or I’m going to start practicing cat kicks on Milo’s swamp nuts to pass the time, dammit.”

Milo looked horrified. “Hey!”

“It’s a note,” Mason said. “Written by one Napoleon Boneparte.”

Zara looked over at them both. “As in the French dude with the big hat?”

“Your grasp of history is astonishing,” Virgil said. “But yes, the French dude with the big hat.”

Caleb gave them a concerned look. “And what does it say?”

Eva shrugged her shoulders apologetically. “Search me,” she said. “It’s not written in any language I understand.”

Zara sighed. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of walking brain or something?”

“It’s impossible to know everything,” Eva said, looking the former LAPD cop up and down. “Or in your case, anything, I suppose.”

Zara fronted up to her. “You wanna say that again, sister? I dealt with more shit before I was ten than you’ll get in your whole life.”

Eva looked aghast, but Ezra broke it up and smiled at them to diffuse the tension. “Eva, if you’re unable to translate it, please tell me you know a person who can.”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Napoleon was very interested in secret codes and cryptography,” she said, almost talking to herself. “No one knows more about the subject than Ambrose Lloyd in Oxford.”

“And you know this man?” Ella asked.

It was obvious she did, but she explained that the relationship was only professional. They had met at a few conferences over the years.

Mason looked at his watch. “Oxford — they have an airport there. If we can get back to London City we can be there in an hour or so. That way we can get to wherever’s next without coming back into the city.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Caleb said.

Mason took the lead at once. “First, we need to call this Ambrose Lloyd bloke and warn him that his life’s in danger. Although they only had Napoleon’s note for a short time, we have no way of knowing what they got from it. It’s perfectly feasible that they read it and if this Ambrose Lloyd really is the leading expert on him and his codes, it’s only a short step from this note to his front door.”

Caleb nodded as he flipped out his phone. “Jed’s right. I’ll get on it.”

Eva spoke up. “Ask him to get out of his house and go somewhere neutral where we can meet him and show him the note. I know Ambrose and he’ll probably suggest the Ashmolean.”

“Does he work there?” Milo said. “That could be just as dangerous.”

“Not any more,” Eva replied. “He retired last year — early, too. Wife inherited a fortune.”

“All right, Ashmolean it is,” Mason said. “And Cal, make sure to tell him to check he’s not being followed.”

Taking the lead came as second nature to Mason, but he was starting to feel out of his depth. Having a crew like the Spiders to deal with wasn’t a stretch for any of them — their line of work had pulled them into the orbit of men and women like Linus Finn and his team many times, but Occulta Manu was another kettle of fish altogether.

What Ezra Haven had said about them had chilled Mason and the other Raiders to the bone, and he’d felt the weight of their organization on his shoulders since the start of the mission. Every stranger he saw had the potential to be an agent of the Hidden Hand, watching them, stalking them.

After the army he had built a solid international reputation in asset recovery and everyone in the business knew who to call when something, or someone, needed extracting and rescuing. But that was dealing with thieves, smugglers and kidnappers, not a force as deep and dark as this. This was different.

This wasn’t famous art works or the kidnapped sons of billionaires being held for ransom. This was something more sinister than any of that. He could just about get his head around SPIDER but the Hidden Hand crew was something altogether different — a bunch of freaks with some pretty shady ideas about world history and politics.

Caleb stepped over to Eva and cupped the phone in his hands. “He wants to talk to you. Says I sound dodgy, apparently.”

Eva took the phone and talked with Ambrose Lloyd for a few seconds. She cut the call and handed the phone back to Caleb. “He’s fine. Wherever Kiya and the Raven are, they’re not in Oxford yet. He says everything’s quiet there and no one’s contacted him. He’s going to cycle down the hill from his place in Headington and meet us at the Ashmolean. He took some convincing to leave the house. Says he just sat down for his dinner.”

“Is he freaking kidding?” Zara said. “He’s about to get hunted down by the world’s most dangerous secret society and he’s worried about his goddam roast beef getting cold?”

Eva shrugged. “That’s Ambrose. And it was lamb.”

“I think we’re going off on another tack here,” Mason said. “It’s good that he’s safe and leaving the house. There’s no reason for Kiya to track him to the Ashmolean. He retired there last year and it’s shut right now anyway, right?”

Eva nodded.

“Good. Then let’s get to the plane. Milo, get onto the pilot and make sure he gets a flight plan scheduled to Oxford. It’s a short flight but I don’t want any delays — and I want a car for the eight of us ready when we land.”

“On it, boss.”

“Seven,” Ezra said coolly. “Titanfort has recalled me back to New York so count me out.”

“You’re leaving us?” Zara said.

He nodded.

“And just when things were getting dangerous, too,” Mason said.

“I’m sure a man of your abilities and experience can handle it,” Ezra said firmly. “It’s important that I go back, and I’ll coordinate from there.”

“How kind,” Milo said.

“Take it or leave it.”

“Let’s get to the plane,” Mason said. “We have to get to Oxford before OM or Lloyd’s a dead man.”