Raiders

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The Raiders pretended to be tourists as they meandered around the Belvedere Courtyard. Mason recalled a story he had read in a British newspaper about Joe Hawke and the ECHO team hunting notorious Mexican drug lord Silvio Mendoza across this very courtyard and creating a diplomatic storm after a shootout in the Sistine Chapel. Ezra Haven had been very clear about not providing an encore to that particular performance.

“This is where we split,” Mason muttered. “Ella and Virgil, you go south to the Basilica. You know what to do. Just wait for the word.”

“Can’t I come with you?” Virgil said. “The library has a vast collection of incunabula I’ve been dying to see for ages.”

“You’re going with El,” Mason said. “That’s the way we rehearsed it.”

“If you insist,” Virgil said, and the two moved away with another group of tourists heading toward the world-famous Basilica dome.

Walking with Zara at his side, and Caleb and Ben a few paces behind, they crossed the courtyard and stepped into the shade of the Vatican Apostolic Library. The library had been in here for over five hundred years and contained vast bequests and collections from across the centuries.

“If Virgil were here he could tell us all about this place, I bet,” Mason said.

Zara nodded. “Thank heaven for small mercies.”

They reached the northern exit and emerged into another smaller courtyard. “There it is,” Caleb said under his breath. He nudged his chin up at the Gregorian Tower, or Tower of the Winds, standing on the western perimeter of the palace. Taking two years to construct, the tower was finished in 1580, and its original purpose was to encourage the new science of astronomy.

Making their way into the tower, they checked their comms one more time. All of the crew were in radio contact with Milo and Eva back in their hired Fiat Talento via invisible Bluetooth wireless headset earpieces.

“Still with us, Miles?” Zara said quietly.

“Always, Z. Just think of me like your own personal God, always in your head.”

“Piss off, Milo.”

“That’s no way to speak to the voice of your conscience, is it?” He lowered his voice to an eerie whisper. “You love Milo… you love Milo.”

“Can it, Milo,” Mason said. “We’re on a job. You know the rules.”

“Sorry, boss.”

Inside the Tower of the Winds, it didn’t take long to follow the route they had studied and reach where they needed to be. Occasionally, a priest walked past, but among so many tourists no one gave them a second look.

“I see the lift,” Ben said.

“Got it,” Zara confirmed. “Elevator at one o’clock.”

Mason spoke into his mic. “You reading me, El?”

“Clear as day.”

“Time for a smoke.”

“Got it.”

Ella Makepeace and Virgil Lehman were walking arm in arm across the floor under the dome of St. Peter’s when Mason’s order came through their earpieces: time for a smoke. Rising over four hundred feet above their heads, the enormous, breathtaking structure dwarfed them like nothing either had ever seen before.

Mingling with the tourists, they broke apart and each reached into their bags. Pulling out what looked like two cans of Coke, they moved to separate parts of the dome before sitting down to take a drink. Placing the cans at their feet, they got up and wandered over to each other again before linking arms and strolling back out along the nave and emerging into the bright Italian sunshine.

Virgil pushed a button on his cell phone and looked at Ella. “Three, two, one…”

The first reaction was a woman screaming, and then several Swiss Guards left their posts and rushed inside to see what was going on.

“Smoke grenade diversions successfully deployed, Jed,” Virgil said.

Mason spoke rapidly but calmly. “Good. Get out of there.”

“That should keep them busy for a few minutes,” Ella said. “Time to get back to Milo and the van.”

Ella and Virgil walked around to the Viale Vaticano and reached the safety of the Talento which was parked up adjacent to the Vatican Museum. They climbed inside through the side door and slid it shut behind them. Taking a seat behind Milo’s mission control they nodded at Eva who was in the driver’s seat up front and gave each other a silent high five for a job well done.

“All good?” Milo said without looking up.

“All good,” said Virgil. “Even when they work out it’s just harmless smoke grenades, they’ll take ages to check the place for anything else. Protocol demands that they sweep the whole place.”

They all heard Mason’s voice over the speakers. “We’re going toward the lift shaft, Milo. Check comms.”

Milo silently adjusted the headphones on his head and checked the frequency of the radio signals to the team. “You guys inside yet?”

“Going in now.”

“Still reading me?”

The replies came back clear and loud.

“This is Mason, check.”

“Caleb here.”

“I hear you, Milo,” Ben said.

“I can hear everyone, but damn it…this thing isn’t easy to wear,” Eva said from the front seat, readjusting her headset. “Keeps falling out.”

“Push it in harder,” Mason said.

“Said the priest to the football coach,” said Milo.

“Jesus, Milo,” Mason said. “This is not professional.”

“Sorry,” the young man said. “What about you, Dietrich?”

“Yeah, I’m professional.”

He sighed. “Are you reading me?”

“Kinda obvious, no? But yeah, clear as crystal, Schnookums.”

“You sound weak,” Milo said.

“Say that to my face and see what happens.”

“No, I meant your signal. I’m increasing the gain. Gonna shrink the bandwidth but should boost the signal.”

“Feels kinda good without a sidearm,” Zara said. “Like I’m naked.”

Mason gave a heavy sigh. “Keep it professional, Zara. We’re almost there.”

Mason led the team through the door behind the elevator shaft and headed to the motor room, but a few meters in, a security guard appeared from a small room on their right and started to wave his hands. “Non… non! Back. Go back! No tourists here.”

Zara apologized and stepped closer to him, pulling a map from her pocket and unfolding it. “Mi scusi…”

He looked at her and offered a smile, but then she struck, placing him in a lightning-fast chokehold, and squeezed until he gently passed out. “Thirty seconds until he wakes up,” she said calmly. “Duct tape, please, Ben.”

Ben Speers reached into his bag and pulled out the tape, and seconds later the guard was trussed up like a Christmas turkey under the desk in his office. He regained consciousness and started to squeal and writhe, but Zara gave him a loving pat on his head and then held her finger to her lips and gave him the hush sigh. “When we’re done I’ll call your boss and he’ll come get you.”

“All right, Milo,” Mason said. “We’re in the motor room.” It was a small space, filled with equipment and smelling of oil, and in the center of it all was a large orange-painted electric motor. “What now?”

“There should be a trap door behind the motor,” Milo said. “You see it?”

“I got it,” Caleb said. “I’m opening it now.”

“Well don’t!” Milo said. “It’s attached to an alarm!”

Caleb frowned. “What the fuck?”

The sound of Milo’s chuckling drifted over the airwaves. “Just kidding, Cal. You can open it.”

“You asshole, Milo.” Caleb heaved the trap door open and they all peered inside.

“All right, that’s the roof of the lift,” Mason said. “And there’s the hatch.”

He pulled the hatch open and the empty elevator was revealed. One by one they lowered themselves into the car. When everyone was in the elevator, Mason hit the down button. “I want everyone on standby. When this shit goes down the whole Vatican’s going to be on fire. If we don’t make it, I want Milo and the van crew out of here, clear?”

The confirmations came in one by one.

Mason nodded once and slid on his gloves and mask. Caleb, Zara and Ben followed suit, and then attached their night vision goggles. “Good. Then here goes nothing.”