The Atlantis Cipher

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Bodie felt his heart stop as the bullet flashed past his face.

Still fighting his better judgment, not wanting to kill anyone, he fired back, hitting the man in the left shoulder. The gun fell and he twisted away, groaning. Bodie hefted Eric in one arm and turned to flee.

Straight into the bulk of the Russian he’d dragged clear of the SUV.

“Where you going, assboy?”

The man shoved him back into the car’s frame, jarring his spine.

Assboy?

Bodie easily blocked another punch but didn’t expect the man to then start pressing right up against him. The strain built and he lost his grip on Eric. The boy hit the ground on his knees, crying. The gun was trapped between them, pointed down. Already, the driver was opening his door.

This rescue attempt was disintegrating by the second.

Bodie head-butted, and felt the other’s blood spray across his eyesight. The pressure only increased. Where was the bastard’s gun? The Russian driver then climbed out alongside his assailant, weapon ready and a grim smile on his face.

“I wish I had time to let him crush you”—his accent made the words hard to decipher—“and watch. But sadly it is not to be.”

He raised a handgun, pointed it at Bodie’s head. The blur of motion that occurred next confused Bodie, but no shot came, which was promising. Then he saw Pantera grappling with the driver. Relief flooded his body. Pain and energy galvanized him and he fought back against his opponent. To his credit, Eric read Bodie’s situation and aimed constant kicks at the Russian’s shins. Still, the man bore down.

And now the passenger, despite being shot, was coming around the back.

Bodie let his body hang, hoping for space, but his opponent only pushed harder. Cassidy passed him by, focused completely on the passenger. Bodie didn’t blame her. The passenger was three feet away from Eric.

The knife clattered to the asphalt at Bodie’s feet. The Russian saw it and his eyes went wide. Bodie saw it, too, but was starting to get double vision as the breath was crushed out of him, the edges slowly blurring to black. Eric stopped kicking for half a second, mesmerized by the blade and knowing what had to be done.

“Don’t you do it, kid,” the Russian grumbled. “This assboy deserves what we do to him. We take you to better place.”

Young as he was, Eric knew bullshit when he heard it. He raised the knife, which made the Russian move, pulling away from Bodie. The thief welcomed the easing of the pressure but still gulped for air, unable to take advantage. Eric raised the knife but then saw his wrist grabbed by an enormous hand.

“Let go, or I break bone.”

Suddenly, Eric’s mother flew in, an avenging angel. She wrenched the knife free with the brute strength of parental desperation, reversed it, and plunged it so quickly into her enemy’s ribs that he didn’t have the time to react. Still screaming, she scooped up her child and backed away.

Bodie now saw the man reaching for the knife as full vision returned. Though weak, Bodie concentrated on lifting the gun.

By the time the Russian had plucked the knife from his ribs, grunted at the pain, grinned, then turned back to face Bodie with the blade in an underhand grip, the thief had leveled his own gun.

“Assboy?” he repeated, and pulled the trigger.

Now completely free, he breathed huge gulps of air. Energy flooded his body. Cassidy was dealing effectively with the passenger at the back of the SUV while Pantera grappled with the driver — all fighters evenly matched. Bodie breathed deeply and went to help Pantera.

The driver was strong, young, and wiry; proving to be a handful. Pantera was going at him like the man that Bodie used to know — fitter, faster, and with the ability to land debilitating punches. The kid waited until Pantera overcompensated, then hit hard, wearing him down. Bodie saw a gap and entered the fray, charging in with a heavy front kick that was blocked, turned aside. But Bodie was ready for that. As the kid angled him away, Bodie swung fully around, left elbow out, landing a heavy blow on the cheek. Staggering, the driver grunted and raised a hand toward the point of pain. Bodie waded into the exposed area, pummeling flesh and making sure the spine connected solidly again and again with the car’s framework.

Pretty soon, the driver was sliding to the ground in agony, all clear thought receding.

Pantera knelt down and finished him off. Bodie’s first thought was for Cassidy. He looked over to see her grab her opponent by the shirt and slam him into the back window of the SUV. Glass shattered. The Russian’s head lolled. Cassidy wiped blood from her cheeks and her hair.

“You took your time,” Bodie murmured, breathing hard.

“Hey, what can I say? He was cute.”

Bodie walked over to Steph and Eric. “Any injuries?”

Pantera’s wife shook her head, tears flying like raindrops, but the steely glint in her eyes telling him she was ready to do exactly as she was told.

“Get back in the car,” he said. “We should get out of here and make a call.”

Cassidy and Pantera came up to him. “A call?” Cassidy asked.

“Bratva keep coming,” Bodie said. “They will never stop. There’s only one person in the world who can help us now.”

“Don’t tell me.” Cassidy exhaled. “Your goddamn girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. But if you mean Heidi — then yes.”

“Right.” Cassidy controlled her breathing as she headed back to the battered Challenger. “Right.”