The Last Bazaar

CHAPTER THRTY ONE

As Ramses rambled on a little more, Alicia threaded her way through the crowd. Though this mission necessarily entailed a constant level of watchfulness, a level that soon became stressful to a point where she couldn’t even wisecrack properly, the blonde was actually reveling in it. Different, yes, but then so am I.

For the first time she could remember she was totally focused, able to push all other considerations to the back of her mind and work on a new future. With Drake? The thought came fast and unbidden, and with surprise. She’d been trying to suppress that profound nugget until she could figure out a way to understand her own feelings.

The two of them had been burned enough in this lifetime. Neither of them needed a new heartache.

Alicia stopped close to Beau, but the bodyguard was focused entirely on his charge and the areas around him. Also the jungle, where Alicia fancied she saw a flash of something or someone on their way to the bazaar. It was gone before her mind could form an opinion, fleet and fast like smoke and rain, but maybe Beau had noticed the same thing. Alicia found her mind wandering, and for a moment old fears started to fight their way back to the surface, claws flashing above the still waters, but then she thought back to Arizona and their quest for the ghost ships, and remembered her own storm amidst the mega-storm. Decisions had been made that day, a willingness to try, and try she bloody well would.

Beau was staring at her, face betraying his surprise.

Alicia inclined her head. Beau would understand. He immediately nodded at Webb though, indicating that he would only draw attention by leaving the madman’s side. Alicia wondered what expression Webb’s face would snap into if he saw Kinimaka approaching and desperately wanted to see that darkly comedic scene, but understood it couldn’t happen.

Not yet.

Just then, Ramses finished his ridiculous tirade and several people rose quickly and moved toward him, needing perhaps some clarification or just trying to bask in his wicked magnificence. Webb was one of them. Alicia followed Beau, grabbing his shoulder and moving him a few feet away from Webb as the Pythian king stared up at Ramses, his lips working quickly as he tried to grab some attention.

“What do you know?” she asked. “Webb. The Pythians. New York. All of it.”

Beau glared. “And nice to see you too. Do you know how many nights we have been here? I have been,” he rolled his hips suggestively, “saving it all for you.”

Alicia coughed. “Well, that’s very nice of you, Beau, but you’re gonna have to tie it off around your waist for now because we’re in the middle of a crisis. Too many targets and no time. We’re struggling. Your input and help is required.”

The Frenchman checked his ward, who had sidled right up to Ramses by now, and turned back. “It is very bad.” His manner changed on a dime. “For New York, it is very bad. The last Pythian, Julian Marsh, is smuggling a suitcase nuke into the country, into the city, with an intention to prove its authenticity and then extract many dollars from the American government. What he doesn’t know is that Ramses’ men intend to hijack the bomb once it’s in the city and set it off.”

Alicia took a moment to digest that. “What? And you haven’t communicated that to anyone sane yet? Fuck!”

Both looked to the ground as heads turned their way. Then Beau said, “I didn’t know where you were sleeping. There are many men’s tents.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. But you obviously did not know where I was sleeping, since you have not come to visit.”

Alicia breathed deeply, annoyed and confused that Beau was making this about their relationship. It was pure jadedness, she knew, from a man who had seen it all and lived it all almost every day. Familiarity bred contempt, yes, and also complacency. Cynicism. She resisted the urge to shake the Frenchman.

“Marsh doesn’t know Ramses’ intent,” Beau clarified.

Alicia thought about their very immediate future. “Tell me where your tent is.”

Beauregard began to smile and then realized her mind was working in an entirely different way to his. Quickly, he explained, then sighed loudly.

“I also think you should know Webb’s true intent for being here. It wasn’t the nuke. Nothing like that. He’s bought some kind of scroll that was part of a journal compiled by Leopold — a German who spent his whole life researching Saint Germain.”

“Fuck, that wanker again. What is it with old bell ends and their bloody secret lives? I’m pretty sure that in fifty or a hundred years, someone will be studying the secrets of people we see as famous now.”

Beau blinked. “Really? Who?”

“Dunno. Terry Wogan? Jay Leno? Jennifer Lawrence?”

Beau grimaced. “Now who is kidding around?”

Alicia tended to agree. “All right, but New York has just taken priority.”

“Of course. That was always Webb’s plan. Distraction so he can focus entirely on the journal, working out its secrets.”

“That man is a devil with a demon’s heart and mind,” Alicia said. “I’m really gonna quarter the bastard and bury the parts at separate ends of the earth.”

“I will help you.”

“We’ll see. Now, is there—”

Alicia stopped abruptly as she saw Beau check on the whereabouts of Tyler Webb — now physically talking to Ramses — and then lean in, put an arm on her shoulder and his lips to her own. Alicia immediately felt a rush of heat and an urge to drag her own personal python off into the jungle, but then stood stock still and forced it all down. Gently, she pushed Beauregard away.

“Not now.”

“Not now?” He watched her. “Or not ever?”

“I don’t know. Damn, being normal is so complicated. I’m trying to be different, a new person, and I won’t lose my way in that stuff anymore. Does that make any sense to you?”

“I am not sure. All I offer is hot, sweaty sex.”

Alicia gulped. “Stop it. I need more than that. Longer lasting emotions and some kind of commitment. Is that what you’re offering too?”

Beau turned away, torn, as Webb wound his conversation up with Ramses. Or had he averted his eyes because of Alicia’s question? His next words illuminated her. “I can’t offer that. I don’t think so anyway.”

“Well, make your mind up fast. Because one day, I’ll be gone.”

The Englishwoman slipped away, already thinking about their targets and New York and how to get a message to Hayden on the boat. People had to be made aware. How long had Marsh been on the road anyway?

He might already be there.

Drake stared at her when she returned, reminding her of Beau’s own expression as she left. Mixed feelings plagued every nerve in her body.

“What happened?” Drake asked.

“Yes, he tried to kiss me,” Alicia blurted. “Yes, he succeeded. No, we didn’t slip off for a short interlude. Not that anything’s ever short where Beau’s concerned, if you get my meaning. Yes, he wants me and yes, I have no idea what to do about it.”

Dahl touched her. “We meant — what does Beau know?”

Alicia patted the gun holstered at her waist, and then explained everything she knew. “All I know,” she finished, “is that we need to roll the credits on this shameful bazaar and get our beautiful butts en route to New York.”

Her comrades were still reeling from the shock. Alicia held her hand sup. “Don’t worry, we have time. Ramses is still here, yes? And he wants to be the orchestrator of New York’s final symphony.”

The team gathered a little closer, sensing a new and terrible severity to their already challenging mission.

“We’re on the edge,” Drake said. “If that bomb goes off…” He shook his head. “We’re on the edge of Armageddon.”

A shout brought their heads up fast. Ramses had taken to the podium again and was calling for attention. Guards moved up behind the small structure, partially hidden, and Alicia strained to see why. They had caught some prisoners, it seemed. Maybe they had captured drug runners in the surrounding jungle and were about to execute them as a final gesture.

Ramses’ eyes swept the crowd. “Some of our guests, it seems, are imposters.”

The crowd went deadly silent. Alicia felt Drake stiffen and saw Dahl’s face turn to white granite.

“But how do we find out who they are?” Ramses made a show of clicking his tongue in thought.

Alicia saw Beau turn, his face appalled. Then she watched in horror as the prisoners were dragged into view — Smyth, Lauren and Hayden were escorted around the side of the podium, hands tied and pushed along by a dozen men.

“If you want my input,” Ramses grinned, “I say we feed their friends to the caimans and see what shakes out.”

He laughed uproariously.

“To the pit!”