The Rome Prophecy

137

Valentina pushes Sweetheart behind her and drops the first of the Galli with a body shot.

Two other guards are coming up fast behind him and another two are spreading wide to outflank her.

The front two open fire.

A marble pillar soaks up their shots.

Valentina fires around it. Two rounds to the right, three to the left.

One of the bullets wings a guard in his leg. He falls clutching his upper thigh and screams like a trapped pig.

Valentina sees Sweetheart standing open-mouthed behind her.

She pulls her tight behind the pillar, while blindly pumping off an arc of covering shots.

More gunfire rips into the marble by her face.

She sinks to the floor – sniper level – and scans the smoke and swirling flies for the remaining three gunmen.

The doors crash open behind her.

She wheels around and is about to let off a volley of shots when Tom sprawls on to the temple floor.

She spins back round, knowing that his intrusion will also have distracted her attackers.

Two of them are rushing her.

Blunderers.

Her trained soldier’s hand pumps out four shots, two apiece.

They drop like flies.

Something for the flesh-eaters to snack on later.

Three down – two still to go.

But she can’t see them.

Tom grabs Sweetheart and carries her out of the room, her feet wriggling in the air.

Outside the burning door he pulls up quickly.

He’s face to face with Mater.

A gleaming ancient sword is raised in her right hand.

It slashes downwards.

Tom swings Sweetheart out of the way.

The sword nicks the top of his right hip.

He turns to face the blade.

When she makes the next swipe, he’ll move back a pace and disarm her.

He never gets his chance.

A burst of automatic gunfire rakes Mater’s legs.

Tom turns.

Three black-uniformed soldiers are rushing towards him, sub-machine guns still spilling smoke. He guesses they’ve overwhelmed the Galli guards at farm level and worked their way down.

He lifts Sweetheart into his arms and covers her eyes. Just the sight of the troops in combat gear is enough to terrify her.

Lorenzo Silvestri recognises Tom from the intel he’s been given. ‘Where’s Valentina?’

‘In there.’ Tom holds Sweetheart tight to his chest and points to the temple.

Lorenzo and one of his team don’t break stride as they rush the room.

The third soldier peels away to attend to Mater. He glances at her, then shouts into his radio for paramedics.

The bullets have shattered her kneecaps.

Within seconds, more troops appear.

From inside the temple comes the ripping sound of rapid gunfire.

Tom kneels, and tries to reassure Sweetheart that she’s going to be safe. ‘Don’t be frightened. These soldiers are good men. Whatever horrible things have happened to you, it’s all over now. All over.’

And it is.

Lorenzo Silvestri walks back through the charred and splintered double doors, smoke swirling behind him, his sub-machine gun slung low.

He smiles at Tom and steps aside.

Valentina is a pace behind.

Her face is covered in blood. Her hair is messier than it’s ever been. But to Tom she looks wonderful.

By the time she sees him, he is already next to her and holding her.

They kiss and cling to each other as though the world has just begun. And in a way, it has.

They hold on tight and become aware of a strange feeling, one not at all linked to their emotions.

Tiny hands are wrapped around both their legs.

Hands that are holding them every bit as tightly as they’re holding each other.