Raiders

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Commissario Nichetti kept his eyes focussed on the display above the elevator which showed the position of the car. “They’ll be here in seconds,” he said. “Guns ready.”

Behind him, the uniformed men inside the Gregorian Tower stood without expression, their eyes shaded by the peaks of their caps. On Nichetti’s belt was a Beretta 92, a semi-automatic pistol issued to police officers in Italy as their standard service weapon.

“No one’s breaking into the Vatican archives on my watch,” he said coolly, and then drew his weapon.

The Vatican Police Corps was formed two hundred years ago in 1816, and today there were only 130 members within its ranks. When the Pope wasn’t present, the famous square was under the jurisdiction of the Italian State Police but when he was in the city the Gendarmerie took over once again. This had been the way of things for a long time. The rules were set out in the Lateran Treaty, a series of agreements made between the Holy See and the Kingdom of Italy back in 1929 when fascism ruled the country, but today things were much more peaceful.

Except for the criminals who had just broken into the archives.

The elevator arrived and the doors opened.

“Fire!”

Nichetti and his men opened fire.

Mason and the others heard the sound of Nichetti’s gunfire as they sprinted up the stairs above the elevator motor room. Climbing up through the open hatch and riding on the roof of the elevator had bought the four of them a valuable few seconds, and as they hit the top floor and burst out onto the roof, Mason blinked in the bright sun and spoke to Milo.

“All right, we’re out.”

“The codex is still safe?” Eva said over the radio.

“Of course.”

“Thank God.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Zara said. “That’s kind of what we do for a living.”

“I can’t wait to see it!” Eva said.

Mason’s voice was calm, but he spoke quickly. “Are the bikes in place?”

“Exactly as planned,” Milo said. “You’re welcome.”

“Get everyone in the van back to the plane,” Mason said. “We’ll meet you there when we’re clear of the police.”

“The raid’s already on the internet,” Milo said. “Pretty soon all of Rome’s going to be on lockdown.”

Mason, Caleb, Zara and Ben Speers sprinted along the apex of the tiled roof connecting the Vatican Library to the museum in the north. Reaching the edge of the roof, they opened their bags and started to pull out rappelling equipment. They quickly sorted the small collection of ropes and clips and then positioned their anchors to make the abseil safe.

“Man, that’s a lot of police sirens,” Ben said.

“You don’t say?” said Zara. “Anyone would think someone just knocked off the Vatican.”

“Point taken,” he said.

“Less chat, more work,” Mason said firmly. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

With the screwgate carabiner attached to the anchor, Mason looped his rope into a clove hitch and clipped the doubled loop into it. Fixing the other end of the rope to a figure-8 descender, he then attached the descender to a second screwgate carabiner attached to his harness. Clipping the rope to another carabiner to a leg-loop, he lowered himself over the edge of the roof and started to rappel down toward the ground in between the Vatican library and the city wall. He was fast and efficient. He had done this countless times before.

Following his lead, Caleb, Zara and Ben went over the edge on their own rappel lines and ten seconds later all four of them were unclipping themselves from their harnesses and sprinting to where Virgil had parked the bikes.

Mason turned the corner and sighed with relief when he saw the two motorbikes — a Kawasaki and a Suzuki, parked up in the shade of an umbrella pine. How the hell does he do it? he asked himself. He and Zara climbed on one and Caleb and Ben took the second.

“Now we split up,” Mason said. “Meet at the destination after we lose the cops.”

Caleb kick-started his bike and Ben climbed on the back. Seconds later they were skidding away to the northeast.

Mason then fired up his bike, but nothing happened. “Shit!”

“What’s up, Jed?”

“Flat battery!”

Zara kicked the bike’s rear tire. “I’ll fucking kill Virgil for this!”

“Steady as she goes,” Mason said. “He’s never let us down before.”

“Over there!” Zara said. “I believe you were looking for a powerful superbike?”

She was pointing to a Ducati Panigale in a small car park outside the museum. It had two large panniers attached to it.

“Just one problem, Z — the driver’s sitting on it.”

“I don’t see that as a problem at all.”

They ran to the bike, and the man gave a cheery wave, but that all ended when Mason dragged him off the bike and jumped astride it, tossing the codex and his bag in one of the panniers.

Zara climbed on the back and rode pillion as he revved the 1.2 liter engine and skidded away into the traffic. In his rear view he saw Nichetti kick over a Vespa in rage and reach for his cell phone. The Italian police chief didn’t exactly look thrilled with how his week was turning out — first the Director of the Vatican Library had been brutally murdered and now the culprits of the worst robbery in Vatican history had escaped and were on the run in Rome.

“Better hold on tight,” Mason shouted. “Things could get nasty.”

“You don’t have to tell me that!” Zara said. “They’ve got guns and I’m the one sitting on the damned back!”

They took off into the backstreets of Rome, racing through the warm summer air as Mason negotiated the foreign city’s maze-like roads. Zara slipped a Glock from inside her jacket and aimed it at the pursuing police.

“Bloody hell, Zara! Ezra said no guns.”

“What can I say? I always come prepared for fubars like this.”

“Just please don’t kill anyone, Dietrich.”

“Oh, ok then. I’ll aim above their heads.”

“That’s what worries me.”

Zara ignored the slur and fired a warning shot over the heads of the police. They ducked and scattered behind a line of parked cars for a few moments, but seconds later an irate Nichetti waved two men on police motorbikes rapidly forward to give chase.

Kiya watched the Fiat Talento with passive eyes as Tekin followed Milo and the rest of the second team. They were still in Rome, and it looked like they were heading for a destination somewhere to the city’s southeast.

“Keep on their tails,” she said.

“I won’t let them out of my sight,” said the Raven.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Looks like they’re aiming for the military airport.”

“Where they go, we go. I just hope Mason can escape from the police.”

“He just broke into the Vatican Secret Archives with a few hours’ notice,” she said with respect. “He’ll escape, all right. Keep up with the van.”

He changed up into fifth, and pushed the stolen Alfa Romeo another hundred meters closer to the Raiders’ Fiat van. “We’ve got them this time.”

Kiya blew out a breath but her shoulder muscles were tight with stress. “Somehow Mason has somehow relieved the Vatican City of the Nectanebo Codex, and that will lead them to the Book of Spells, but if we lose them now… just one more error from us and we’re dead.”

“No more mistakes,” Tekin said. “Soon we will have what is rightfully ours, and the gods will be revealed to us.”

But Kiya wasn’t listening to him. She was already dreaming of her elevation to a Hidden Hand Soldier. All she had to do now was hold her nerve and let Mason and his team lead her to the greatest prize of all.