The Rome Prophecy

135

The huge temple doors are turning black.

But they’re not burning.

Valentina can’t believe it.

Why doesn’t the wood catch fire?

She guesses it’s to do with the age and strength of the oak. The fact that the flames from the torch are just not powerful enough to set it ablaze.

Maybe she’s being impatient.

She places the torch on the floor, where the two doors meet.

It has no effect.

Snapping point.

She pulls out the Glock and heads towards the pulpit.

If she can’t burn their way out, perhaps she can blast them out.

The old woman is still there.

Hands on the glass, scowling down at Valentina.

Well, screw her.

Valentina swings the pistol up and lets off a shot.

The glass doesn’t even splinter.

It’s like throwing pebbles at the windscreen of a truck.

She lets off another two shots, grouping them near the first.

The crone smiles.

It would take a SAM missile to blow the glass, and both women know it.

But Valentina’s not giving up.

She gathers more torches from the walls and stacks them by the door.

At least the flies don’t like the smoke, or the flames.

She hugs the child close to her and reassures her again. ‘We’ll get out, Sweetheart, don’t worry. I promised you. Any minute now, we’ll be out of here.’ She kisses her cheek and hugs her again.

At the far end of the temple, a hidden door slides open.

Five of Mater’s most trusted guards enter.

Sweetheart sees them and silently screams.

Only when she points at the armed men wearing scarlet hoods and robes does Valentina realise the full extent of the trouble they’re in.