The Relic Hunters

CHAPTER TWELVE

Bodie took a seat in the jet and closed his eyes. Spending time in a Mexican prison sure took it out of you, and he hadn’t taken the time to recover properly yet. Physically and mentally drained, a little alone time was just what he needed.

Then Cassidy Coleman plonked herself right down beside him. “Y’know, Bodie. I said time and time again that I wanted to hit that place and break the door down. They said it was too risky, but in the end that’s just what the frizzball did and, hey, it worked!”

Bodie sighed. “Frizzball?”

“That CIA chick with the hair.”

“Ah, Heidi. Well, I appreciate the sentiment but I’m sure you all had my best interests at heart. And no harm done.”

“No harm. You look worse than crap on toast.”

“Aww, thanks. But Cassidy, I know you — impetuous, hard, physical and always wanting to be the hero. You need somebody like Cross to temper your recklessness—”

Cross leaned over the aisle as the engines began to spool up. “Don’t forget she’s thirty now too.”

Bodie smiled despite his pain. “Ah yes, the big three-oh. I’d forgotten.”

“Yeah, and you’d best forget again. Any more of that shit and I’ll personally dump you both back into that prison. Or worse.”

“Well, I was about to say, next in our merry band of hunters is Cross. Career-thief, slow, redneck, slooooow.” Bodie grinned as Cross turned away in disgust. “Somewhat, paradoxically, he needs you to keep from getting stale. You guys feel like a great mix. So, between you and the backroom staff — Jemma and Gunn — I’d say we have a compact, useful and effective team.” He paused. “Bit slow on the uptake though.”

Jemma turned around in her seat. “Backroom staff?”

Cassidy shook her head. “Are you pitching us for a job?”

“I think we already have one. Is anyone else in shock about what they just heard?”

“Wait,” Jemma said with a little venom. “Backroom staff? Really? And you put me in the same sentence as Gunn?”

Bodie shrugged. “Been a while since I saw you in the field, Jemma. But I guess Gunn’s never been out there.”

“Gunn’s a pussy,” Jemma grumbled. “And lately, I’m often more useful as the overseer, back at base.”

“All very true,” Bodie said to Gunn’s annoyance.

“So maybe I’m not backroom staff? And Gunn’s still a pussy.” She laughed.

Cassidy lowered her voice. “Steady on, girl. Gunn’s still not entirely sure what that means.”

“Ahh.”

Gunn clearly decided it was time to make a stand. “I think you will find my work is invaluable to the team.” He ran a nervous hand through gelled hair. “Isn’t it?”

Cassidy bounced in her seat, sensing prey and always happy to work on a new victim.

Bodie guessed it was time to stop teasing Gunn. “Don’t play into her hands, Sam. She’s a predator; the only way to shut her down is to stand up to her. Cassidy — you happy with the new arrangements?”

The redhead shrugged. “Not fussed either way so long as we’re together and working hard. Jemma and Sam are the ones with morals.”

“We all have our honor,” Bodie said. “Ex-soldiers come ex-criminals come… what? Government agents?” He laughed.

The jet sliced through the air, buffeted by high winds. Heidi used the seatbacks to climb her way along the aisle and get close to them. “Watch the TV,” she said. “If you need any more persuasion.”

Bodie sat in silence as a news report came on: coverage of the Athens museum. The team sobered quickly. Devastation filled the widescreen, drifting smoke and shattered walls, ambulances and police cars strewn to left and right; those structures still standing casting a sad shade over the whole scene.

“If the Illuminati did this,” Jemma said. “Their membership truly needs to expire.”

“Yeah, in every way possible,” Cassidy said. “And some that aren’t.”

Bodie waited in respect until the broadcast finished and then turned to Heidi. “Any news on this Hood we’re tracking?”

“We should be able to intercept the bus somewhere around the final Greek stop. Of course, the whole op is unbelievably delicate. We’re depending on you.”

Bodie accepted the pressure without question. “We’ll make it work.”

“Remember, this Hood is the best of the best. Maybe even better than you. Do not underestimate him.” She paused. “And his bosses.”

Cassidy choked on an olive. “Better than us? What you smoking, bitch?”

Heidi laughed, taking it in the spirit it was meant. “Just be careful and fight hard.”

“Story of my life.”

“We’re not fighters,” Gunn spoke up then. “We’re thieves.”

Many pairs of eyes stared at him, but none laughed. For the first time since he’d met him, Bodie saw real surprise and acceptance finally dawn on the young man’s face. Finally, he was starting to understand the kind of people he’d fallen in with.

“I like to consider myself an ‘all-rounder,’” Cross broke the silence. “Able to adapt to any situation.”

“All the best thieves can and do,” Bodie said. “I started young. Parents died whilst I was at a birthday party. Orphans adapt or die, and they do it very quickly. They learn to live with what they get, and forget what they once had. Except sometimes…” He closed his eyes. “Late at night.”

For a moment the only sound was the rumbling jet.

Then Bodie went on: “Adapt to hatred. Adapt to prison. Adapt to real life again. Hatred. The cycle, it never stops. I—” He clammed up, conscious he didn’t want to reveal too much and that Sam Gunn was also an orphan — a fact Bodie found hard to live with because the few orphans he’d ever dealt with turned out to be selfish, untrustworthy and downright repugnant.

In their favor though, the children of his foster families were far, far worse.

“You’d better adapt now then,” Heidi said. “We’re about to land.”