Raiders

CHAPTER FORTY

The elevator doors opened to reveal a narrow concrete corridor stretching away from them, just as Milo had seen on the schematics. Mason scanned the area for a moment and then raised his palm-mic.

“Milo, cut the juice.”

The reply was immediate, and this time there were no jokes. “Consider it done.”

One second later the corridor was plunged into darkness. “Let’s go,” Mason said. “The vault’s at the end of this corridor on the right.”

Using their night vision goggles, they walked the length of the corridor, silently passing under a series of CCTV cameras, all reduced to meaningless plastic by the lack of electricity to power them.

“And Milo’s sure the vault has its own power system?” Ben said.

“Dead sure,” Zara said.

“It’s a security feature,” Mason said. “A failsafe in case anyone gets caught inside during a power cut.”

“I bloody well hope so,” Ben said nervously. “Because if I get caught down here the next thing I know MI5 will be giving me my P45.”

“Huh?” Zara said.

“It’s the reference code of the form you get when you lose your job,” Mason said.

“Got it. Don’t worry Benjamin — you’re in safe hands with us, and just think how impressed Ella will be when you pull this off.”

They continued along the corridor, but Ben still didn’t look too convinced.

Mason pulled up at a set of enormous steel doors. “We’re at the vault, Milo.”

“Let’s hope your voice voodoo worked, Miles,” Zara said.

Caleb shrugged, and raised his iPhone to the mic. “Proof of the pudding, and all that — ready, Jed?”

Mason nodded and typed in the forty-seven digits that Milo had hacked. Immediately, a countdown began just as the young hacker had briefed them it would.

“All right, do or die, Cal,” Mason said.

Caleb pushed his iPhone closer and played the Bishop’s reconstructed voice: Qui custos es mei…

And the vault clicked open.

“Jesus, Miles,” Zara said. “It actually worked.”

“This is what I’m paid for, hun,” he said smugly. “Tell me, what are you paid for again?”

“Take a long walk off a short dick, Milo.”

Mason said, “Remember the Fubar Protocol, right, Milo?”

“I got it — if it goes pear-shaped then we make tracks and meet in Tahiti.”

“Tahiti?”

“I added that bit to the plan. Always wanted to go there.”

Zara sighed. “What the hell are we waiting for?”

They stepped inside and got their bearings. It was a vast space, bigger in reality than what they had imagined from Milo’s hacked schematics, and mostly filled with documents packed into endless stretches of shelving. All of it was behind an enormous glass screen running from the ceiling to the floor, just as Milo had warned them. The purpose of the screen was to control the humidity and other aspects of the climate within the archives, but getting inside was simply a matter of punching another twelve digit keycode and popping open a door.

Inside the Secret Archives, Mason held one thought in his mind above all others, and that was how little time they had before the ruthless might of the Pontifical Swiss Guard came crashing down on their heads. A life spent in an Italian prison cell, serving time for one of the most notorious break-ins in history was not part of his plans for the future, so they had to work fast.

“How’s the diversion going, Milo?”

“Like a dream, but it’s not going to last forever.” They heard the sound of tapping as he typed on his keyboard. “I’m just checking the monitors now and it won’t be long before they work out they’ve been duped.”

“We’re going as fast as we can,” Zara said. “And if anything goes wrong I’ll find a way to blame you, Miles.”

“I know you will, Z.”

“It’s in Aisle 17,” Mason said. “Let’s go.”

They reached their destination and started to search for a cassone similar to what they had seen back in Paris. After a few minutes with no luck, Mason was starting to get nervous. He glanced at his watch as the team kept up their search. “Milo?”

“You don’t have much time left,” he said. “I can’t keep blocking out the CCTV up top and our friends in the Swiss Guard have just sussed out our little diversion.”

“Damn it!” Mason said. “We have to get out of here, codex or no codex.”

“Wait.” It was Zara. “What about this thing?”

Mason watched as she pulled an old dust sheet off a pile of furniture in the corner of the chamber. “Am I the best, or am I the best?”

Mason’s eyes widened like saucers. “I think you found it!”

Stepping over to Zara, they beheld another magnificent fifteenth century cassone marriage chest with solid oak panels and gilded around the edges with fine gold leaf.

Zara ran her hand along the lid. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s priceless,” Caleb said.

Mason grinned. “And with a bit of luck it’s got Parennefer’s codex inside it.”

“So we got the fucker,” Zara said. “Excuse my Castilian.”

Mason stepped up and lifted the cassone’s lid. Inside, his eyes feasted on a vast jumble of luxurious clothes, books and jewels. This was without a doubt part of Napoleon’s private belongings accidentally brought back to Rome after his death.

He rummaged around for a few moments and then pulled a tattered and stained hardback book from the chest. It was covered in jewels, and an ankh-shaped groove was carved into the heavy, leather front. “We got it,” he said, holding the codex in his hands. He spoke to Eva over the mic, a smile widening on his face. “I only hope you can make sense of the damned thing.”

As he stared the ancient codex, the American archaeologist’s voice drifted over the radio. “Sure, but I’ll need time.”

“Which is something you’ve just run out of.” It was Milo’s voice.

Caleb gave Mason a sharp look of concern. “Swiss Guard?”

“Yes,” Milo said. “But they’re calling back-up as well, the Gendarmerie Corps — just as we knew they would.”

“All right, everyone,” Mason said. “Back to the lift.”

They exited the vault and jogged back to the elevator. “Power on, Milo.”

“Got it, boss.”

The lights came back on and they stepped inside the elevator. Mason hit the button to send it up out of the archives and they all said a silent prayer and as it jolted to life.