The Atlantis Cipher

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“But I need to explain about Poseidon and the kings of Atlantis,” Alessandro said. “About men so influential they later became gods.”

“Listen.” Bodie helped him up. “During tenure were you ever shot, stabbed, or decapitated?”

“Umm, well, no, I don’t think so.”

“Let’s keep it that way. This is what Heidi does, what we do. We’ll keep you safe.”

Alessandro went with him. Lucie came around the table and bumped into Heidi. Bodie saw Cassidy emerge from the crowd.

“Your ten o’clock, thirty meters,” he said. “Heads down and walk straight across the square.”

They complied, trying to maintain a pace that was brisk yet blended with the crowd. Jemma met them and joined in. Soon they were level with the side of the cathedral and moving past its arched windows, unable to ignore its imposing vertical walls. It lessened their escape options for now, but once they were past, it would increase them.

Cross’s voice filled their heads. “Hey, Yasmine. Come with me.”

Bodie cursed aloud. The man was jeopardizing everything. “You’re putting lives at risk,” he hissed. “Get the fuck away from her.”

“How did you find us?” Cross asked.

Yasmine’s voice was clear as crystal. “Run, Eli! Run. They will kill you.”

Bodie skidded to a halt. He could see Cross through shifting figures to the left and Yasmine just a meter away from him. He couldn’t leave his friend behind no matter what the odds were.

“Come with us,” Cross begged. “Why are you with these monsters?”

“This is not the time. It’s deep, Eli, my story is very deep. If I get the chance I will explain. But you must go now. They will kill you.”

“Please join us.”

“I can’t. Not now. Look, they’re coming. Just go!”

Bodie neared Cross, then met Yasmine’s eyes and saw the faces of the men approaching her. One was the bald, spindly-armed man, flanked by three tough-looking henchmen. Bodie grabbed Cross and steered the older man out of there, arrowing clear of where he’d left the rest of the team.

“Stop it,” Cross said, struggling.

“This is your one fucking pass,” Bodie hissed at him. “Any more of this shit and you’re done. You hear me?” Even here, even now, his chest hurt when he spoke that way to his friend.

Cross deflated. “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it. I know we’re the original members of this team — we can tell each other and work through anything — but you’re becoming a liability. You’re drawing attention to the whole group, to Alessandro, chancing a firefight here, in this crowded square. Get it together, Cross, or go home.”

“I hear you, I hear you. She’s just… the love of my life, Bodie. I need answers. Isn’t there anyone from your early years that you’d give anything just to talk to again? To find out… why?”

There was, but Bodie knew this wasn’t the time for an in-depth conversation about it. He continued to force the pace, cutting through the crowd. At first he didn’t look back, because looking back tended to get you spotted, but then Cassidy confirmed his worst fears through the comms. “They’re coming after you.”

“How many?”

“All five.”

“Good. That means they didn’t see you. Keep on going and we’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

“You sure you don’t need backup?”

“I’m good. We’re headed for the Galleria. There’s a thousand ways out, I hope.”

“Roger that. Speak soon.”

Bodie sped up as they passed underneath the triumphal archway that led inside the shopping mall. Wide and airy and incredibly high, it was and always had been one of the most important Milanese meeting places. The glass and iron roof consisted of four barrel vaults crowned with a large dome, and effected an eerie atmosphere that held sway over the masses below.

Despite the crowd, Bodie felt that a respectful hush permeated the interior of the building. It was as if something sat coiled in the heights of the vault, devouring the clamor.

They pushed past glass displays and a restaurant, paused briefly at an intersection where the Louis Vuitton, Versace, and Prada establishments created a soft, golden glow of enticement, with the colorful glass dome high above. Bodie turned to see the bald man only steps away and didn’t hesitate. A swift right was blocked but his hard left met kidneys and doubled the man over.

Bodie caught Cross’s arm and ran.

They raced past Prada and fled up the arcade, looking for a large shop that might have multiple exits. Bodie didn’t have to look back; he could see their pursuers’ reflections in the windows. Four grim, intense-looking men and one woman. All around, curious patrons made way. A tall, thin woman in a tight-fitting dress pulled her young son by one hand and barely looked up. A tourist with two cameras whirled to take photos. Pigeons flew overhead and roosted on the architecture.

Bodie reached the end of the Galleria, emerging onto a street. Shockingly, the rest of the team was right in front of him, and they were in trouble.

The sudden scene of violence shocked him. Heidi was struggling in the grip of a Chinese man. He brought a knee into her groin, head-butted her, and then spun and flung her into a window all in the space of two seconds. Heidi hit hard, and Bodie saw the window crack from end to end behind her. She sank to the ground, dazed.

Cassidy fought two of them, holding both at bay, but the two-pronged attack was harsh. She tried to escape and help Jemma, but the men sidestepped and blocked her. She scowled, frustrated. Cassidy was bleeding and her pants were torn.

Jemma and Gunn tried to defend Lucie and Alessandro as best they could, standing tall and striking fists into the most vulnerable areas they could see. Twice Jemma connected with soft flesh, but then she struck bone. She cried out, backing away. She was no match for this man and he knew it.

Bodie saw Heidi’s aggressor aim a kick at her head as she rocked from a heavy blow. He was too late to prevent the kick, and saw her skull slam against the wall. A line of blood appeared on the stonework. Bodie flew, adrenaline boiling, leaping and coming down with an elbow on the nape of the man’s neck.

“She was already down, asshole.”

The Chinese man staggered but used Heidi’s head to steady himself before pushing off. He led with a spinning elbow, which Bodie blocked, then a left punch, which Bodie dodged. The ribs were vulnerable, so Bodie delivered hard knuckles to them. A fist connected with his skull, a knee slammed his stomach. He fell back, wondering how he could possibly beat these guys.

Chinese Special Forces. Isn’t that what Heidi said?

We’re in deep shit here.

Bodie kicked the bastard in the knee. Dirty tactics applied now, and he knew more than a few. When the man hit the ground, clutching his burning joint, Bodie sent a boot into his Adam’s apple, further debilitating him.

Around them, civilians screamed.

It’s all falling apart.

A brave young man ran up to Heidi and tried to inspect her bleeding head. The man Bodie had just felled struck out at him. Bodie waded in again, finally rendering the attacker unconscious, but didn’t have time to check the groaning CIA agent.

Jemma screamed. Bodie whirled, expecting anything, but even then caught his breath. Mayhem ensued. Jemma knelt before a Chinese Special Forces man, blood running down her cheek. He had a hand tangled in her hair and was holding her close while fending off both Lucie and Alessandro. Gunn was on his knees, doubled over, wheezing in pain. Despite the admiration he felt for Lucie and Alessandro, his heart leapt for Jemma and Gunn. Ten steps away, he sprinted as if he was trying to outrun a bullet.

But then Cross ran past him, and the original five Bratva were just a meter away, piling out of the arcade and into the fight. Bodie couldn’t avoid them. One man careened into him, knocking him off his feet and winding him. Bodie landed hard and rolled, shouting into his earpiece.

“Jemma. Fight him! Get up and fight!”

“You’re kidding!” Her voice came across weak and muffled.

Bodie used the brick wall to gain his feet, looked over, and saw Jemma turn her head and sink her teeth into her opponent’s thigh. Bodie cringed, because it wasn’t the thigh at all.

Her opponent pulled away, letting go of Jemma’s hair. It was one of the few times Bodie had seen her without her bun, and the difference was striking. She wiped her face. Bodie flat-armed a Moroccan in the nose and rushed past, leaving Cross to engage them.

Jemma forced Lucie and Alessandro back against the wall, shielding their bodies. Now Bodie saw Gunn, lying flat out and hopefully just unconscious. Cassidy continued to engage both opponents, her ripped pants now matched by a ripped shirt, and all covered in blood.

Heidi was barely moving.

And here they were, pitted against properly trained soldiers. They were no match. They were battered, not superhuman, having met more than their equals. Bodie hoped they could get out of it alive.

The Bratva’s chaotic arrival had helped. In particular, the way they had poured out of the mall in disarray, just plowing into the brawl. The bald man engaged Cross hand-to-hand, while the others set about the two soldiers in combat with Cassidy. The redhead, allowed a moment of respite, collapsed onto her bottom, panting and wasted, arms hanging listlessly. Bodie stumbled under the bald man’s assault, then spun and shrugged him off. The man fell into the street, striking the curb. The crowd watched, some crying out and others filming. A man in a wheelchair tried to ignore the entire fracas and force his way through, but was pulled aside a moment before Yasmine’s stumble would have sent him flying.

An engine roared. Bodie whirled to see a black van flying up the road, knocking some pedestrians aside. With horror he saw it run over a man’s legs and then saw two Chinese soldiers through the windshield.

No way out.

Fight, then.

The van roared past and stopped adjacent to Jemma. Sliding doors were flung open. Four men poured out like black lava, faces and bodies entirely covered. Bodie saw them reach for Jemma and felt a new level of fear.

“No!”