The Goddess Legacy

Chapter 9

A dark SUV idled at the rear of the hostel, and the gunman ran to its rear fender and beckoned to them to hurry. He slid through the passenger door and turned to the driver, a white-haired man with a gray pallor who reeked of nicotine, as they piled into the rear and pulled the door closed.

“Get us out of here, Roland.”

The driver floored the gas and the SUV lurched forward, its big engine propelling them down the alley like a rocket. He slowed at the last possible minute and skidded around the corner onto a larger street, nearly colliding with a rickshaw, which swerved and struck a bicyclist, sending the hapless rider sprawling. The motor revved as the driver worked the gears to maximize traction, and then his eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

“We’ve got company,” he said in French-accented English.

“Damn,” the gunman said. “We have to lose them.”

“Hard to outrun a radio,” Spencer remarked from the backseat.

The gunman ignored him and whipped a phone from his shirt pocket. He thumbed the screen to life and tapped at a menu. A map filled the display and he zoomed in. “Take the next left,” he ordered.

The Frenchman didn’t hesitate or slow, rounding the corner at sufficient speed to send the SUV into a controlled drift as the tires protested with a howl like a wounded animal. Allie’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the door handle, and Drake watched grimly as they narrowly avoided slamming into the back of a bus. Roland braked at the last possible instant and downshifted like a Formula One champion, and then they were past the bus and barreling along the street. The SUV’s passenger-side fender slammed into a cart that appeared from between two cars, sending fruit flying and splattering against the windshield. The driver swore as the glass cracked, and then cursed again when the wipers merely smeared orange goop across half the windshield, effectively blinding him. He pressed the washer button repeatedly and some of the covering dissolved enough to see.

“I hope you’ve got some ideas,” he muttered.

“There’s a right coming up in sixty meters. Take it, and then slow down,” the gunman said. “There’s a canal on the left — there may be a maintenance gate or something. It’s worth a try.”

Roland dared a glance at the gunman. “If they get choppers in the air, we’re in serious trouble.”

“Remote chance they can respond that quickly. I like our odds.”

“It will occur to them soon enough.”

“By which time we’ll be gone.”

The heavy vehicle leaned precariously as it made the right, and the Frenchman had to fight to bring the steering back under control before decelerating to a more sane speed. All eyes were on the chain-link fence that ran alongside the dark canal, and Roland slowed further when he saw a gate.

“Can you blow through it?” the gunman asked.

“You pay the insurance, not me.”

He pointed the hood at the gate and accelerated as the SUV neared it. The gate exploded off its hinges and flew off to the side, and then they were bouncing down a rutted dirt track. Dense vegetation surrounded them, and branches scratched at the windshield and body as they tore by.

The canal was full of rushing brown water, but the driver managed to keep the vehicle’s wheels clear of it enough to achieve reasonable progress. The gunman’s phone trilled and he answered it, spoke a few hushed words, and then terminated the call. He turned to the driver.

“Can you get us to the Yamuna River by the Nizamuddin bridge?”

Roland’s eyes darted to the mirror and then back to the road. “Anything’s possible.”

The gunman gave him further instructions. “Everything’s ready.”

The Frenchman considered him. “You may wish to take a taxi. Split up. That way if we’re stopped, they’ve got nothing.”

“No time. They may be slow, but they’ll mobilize, and we could see roadblocks, at least overnight.”

The driver shrugged. “Your call.”

“That’s right, it is. Get us back on a road as soon as you see an opening. They’ll tumble to the broken gate eventually.”

Spencer and Drake watched the exchange without comment. Drake took Allie’s hand and was relieved when she didn’t pull away. Any anger she’d felt at being subjected to immediate danger after arriving had apparently been forgotten, although Drake was only cautiously optimistic.

“Who are you?” Spencer asked the gunman as the driver swerved onto a concrete ramp that led to a street above.

“I’ll explain later.”

“How about now?” Drake tried.

“Right now, the less you know, the better. If you’re captured, you know nothing. That’s the way I like it.”

The gunman’s tone didn’t leave any room for argument, and Drake settled back into the seat as the SUV accelerated and shredded through another gate. The passenger-side mirror blew off from the impact and the cracked windshield frosted on the gunman’s side, but if the Frenchman cared about the damage, he gave no sign.

The gunman checked his phone map again and nodded. “We should be there in ten minutes. Fifteen on the outside,” he said.

“We’ll want another vehicle.”

“I’ll arrange it by morning.”

“Where are we going?” Allie asked.

“Somewhere nobody will think of looking for you in a million years.”

Spencer tried again. “Why are you helping us?”

The gunman laughed humorlessly. “Obviously, because I want something.”

“Money?”

It was the driver’s turn to chuckle. “I’ll take some if you’re offering.”

The gunman shook his head. “I’ll tell you soon enough.”

“What do you want?” Drake demanded.

The gunman twisted around in his seat and studied Drake for a long beat, and then turned back around.

“I asked you a question,” Drake said.

The gunman nodded. “I heard you. Now hear me. We’ll discuss it once we’re off the road. Until then, you’re to keep your mouth shut so you don’t distract us. That’s not an option, and if you don’t like it, you can try your luck out there,” he said, pointing at a slum to their left. “You’d last about ten minutes. They’d cut your throat for your shoes, much less any money you might have, and you’d be praying for the police to find you and drag you off to prison. Want to test my patience? Because I’m in a seriously bad mood, and I’m getting tired of being interrogated like a schoolboy while I save your sorry ass.”

Drake decided to err on the side of prudence and sat back. Allie squeezed his hand, which was slim comfort as they bounced along to an unknown destination in a country he’d already grown to hate in only a few short hours.