The Lost Relic

Chapter Forty-One

Ben was making slow progress, and he wasn’t happy about it. His muscles were quivering with pent-up adrenalin as he inched his way up the dark passage.

His heartbeat jumped up a notch as he heard the sound behind him and whirled round. Torchlight flashing from around a bend, just fifty metres back. He moved faster, but he was running blind and his pursuers weren’t. Seconds later, the torchlight filled the tunnel behind him.

The sound of a woman’s voice cut sharply though the dead atmosphere. Hard, calm, controlled. ‘Armed police. Stop right there. Get your hands where I can see them.’

Ben stopped, turned, strained his eyes against the searing white light. The woman wasn’t alone. He could make out her silhouette in the torch beam of the man trotting to catch up with her. Her arms were bare, the muscles toned and tight, and the gleaming steel in her fist was as rock steady as her voice. She was breathing hard and looked like a panther ready to spring at him. Even without seeing her face, he could tell this was no lightweight they’d sent after him.

‘I’m Commander Darcey Kane of SOCA,’ she said. ‘Ben Hope, you’re under arrest.’

Two heartbeats went by and nobody moved. Then Ben raised his hands to chest level.

‘Lose the weapon,’ she said.

As Ben slowly hooked out the Ruger from his jacket pocket and let it dangle from a finger through the trigger guard, he was wondering what a SOCA agent was doing on a case that should have been a matter for Italian police. He tossed the pistol down in the dirt near his right foot.

‘Kick it away. Hands high.’

Ben nudged it a few inches with his toe. ‘I didn’t kill Tassoni. He was dead when I got there.’

‘Innocent men don’t run.’ Her tone was matter-of-fact. Someone just doing their job.

‘You have the wrong person, Darcey.’

‘Then you have nothing to fear.’

‘There’s more to it.’

‘I don’t want to know. Tell it to the judge.’

As she spoke, she stepped closer to him. Now just a few metres away, he could see her more clearly by the torchlight bouncing off the stone walls in the narrow space. Her jaw was set tight and there was a glint of quiet ferocity in her eyes. A stray wisp of black hair had broken out from under her cap. Without letting the gun waver a millimetre, she tucked her torch under her right arm. Reached into her back pocket with her left hand and fished out a pair of cuffs. Her partner was just one step behind. Ben didn’t think he looked as confident as she did. Then there was more clamour behind them, and torchlight flooded the passage as a whole pack of uniformed Carabinieri appeared around the corner guns drawn. Seeing the situation ahead, they crouched and took aim as more came up from behind. It looked like a whole army of them.

The odds were definitely getting interesting, but Ben guessed he had more to worry about from Darcey Kane than from the rest put together. He moved forward a step. To his left, the hundreds of piled skulls watched like silent witnesses from an alcove as he held out his wrists to be cuffed.

‘Looks like you got me.’

She smiled. ‘Wasn’t hard, either.’

‘No bones about it,’ he said.

And lashed out with his left foot. His shoe connected with one of the supporting struts holding up the tall wooden framework on which the human remains were heaped. A few centuries ago, the wood might have been solid. Not any more. Ben’s kick cracked it in two with an explosion of dust and the whole towering edifice gave a lurch and came crashing down in a splintering bony avalanche that filled the passage. Ben threw himself back out of the way as a hundred bouncing skulls rained down where he’d stood a second before.

Darcey barely had time to react before she was swiped off her feet and half buried in the slide. Her torch fell and rolled away from her, cutting a milky swathe in the billowing dust. Her face and hair were white with it. Coughing and spluttering, she tried to struggle to her feet. Her partner was down on his knees and elbows, a streak of blood above his eye where a section of the falling wooden framework had caught him a glancing blow. The passage behind them was almost completely blocked with debris and swirling dust.

Ben snatched up Darcey’s Maglite and swung it like a club, knocking the Beretta out of her hand. She cried out in pain as the weapon clattered away from her.

‘Sorry, Darcey,’ Ben said. ‘Maybe another time.’ His Ruger was buried. He grabbed her Beretta instead and bolted away up the passage, leaving the agents floundering among the wreckage.