Raiders

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Gaston Majerus picked up the telephone in his office and moistened his lips as he dialled the number. Outside his window, police were swarming around the museum in response to the shootout, and yet more were driving in the direction of the Champs de Mars where the Raiders had last been seen chasing the Spider crew.

“Shelto?” he said in a solid, single tone, coldly spoken.

“Yes.”

“Your life has been saved by serendipity.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Guess who walked into my museum a few moments ago?”

“Mason?”

Gaston could almost hear his Lion thanking God. “Yes. Turns out I know one of them. When he called me I simply couldn’t believe it, and they seem to have more enemies than just us. They were attacked in the museum by a team in riot gear.”

“Who?”

“Could be anyone, but it wasn’t us. No point in catching them until they have what we desire.”

“Do you know where they’re going?”

“Yes. They’re heading to Rome.”

“Leave it to me,” he said. “This time, they’re mine.”

“No. They have run rings around you too many times. This time you are to order Kiya and the Raven to hang back and trail them. No more interventions. When they know precisely where the Book of the Dead is, I will give the order to kill them, and not before.”

“Yes, Amadeus. As you wish.”

“Good hunting, Lion — and don’t let me down again.”

“No, Persian.”

Gaston cut the call and considered reporting to Benedict, but instead he lit a cigar and watched the police as they crawled over the museum in search of the Raiders and their attackers. He knew they would never find them — they were too good for the gendarmerie, and he didn’t want them to find them either.

They were going to lead Kiya all the way to Thoth’s Book of Spells.

Kiya felt her skin crawl as the man rubbed her shoulders and gave her what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. Schelto Kranz, or the Lion, as he was more properly known, was a weak but greedy man. These were two qualities that never mixed well and she always felt unnerved in his presence.

“Please, Kiya — take a seat.”

Kranz released his sweaty grip and indicated a low, leather couch running beneath a window in his office. When she sat down on the soft, worn leather, she prayed he would not sit beside her. Her prayers were answered when he took one of the chairs opposite the couch, behind a small, glass coffee table.

“You’re my third in command, Kiya. I trust you. I admire your skills, but you have let me down on this mission.”

“I know.”

“I’m covering for you as best I can, but Amadeus the Persian is starting to ask awkward questions about your performance. Tekin’s failure to deliver for OM has also not gone unnoticed.”

Kiya maintained her composure as she felt the sweat from Kranz’s grip cooling on her shoulders under the ceiling fan. “I will not allow them to beat me. I have never failed a mission and I’m not about to start now.”

He nodded but her words of reassurance had failed to lift the concerned frown on his face. “In Amadeus’s eyes, Dariush is not seen as a hero, dying for the Order in a brave way, but a fool who lost us Napoleon’s note. This is also how you and Tekin are being judged, and you have only one chance left before I will be forced to cut you loose. Without my protection, it will not take the Order long to hunt you down and have you neutralized.”

“I understand, but I will not fail. What are my orders?”

“You are to go to the Vatican Secret Archives and wait for Mason there. The Persian believes the codex is somewhere in the archive, but we do not know its exact location. He forbids you from engaging with the enemy until they have found the tomb and the Book of Thoth. Only then are you to execute them and secure the Book. Is that clear?”

Kiya listened carefully to the Lion’s words as he spelled out the Persian’s orders. She felt a wave of disappointment that she was not trusted to take the codex from them in Rome.

But orders were orders.