The Treasures of Saint Germain

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Dahl squeezed the trigger, loosing shot after shot, aiming for central body mass. The wave of attackers didn’t slow, a dozen men and then more flooding toward him with swords brandished high. From the left came even more, the remainder of those who had exited the front door.

Dahl’s team were spread out, but still coming and fighting hard. Kenzie slashed at those seeking to join the new wave. Kinimaka and Smyth ran low, firing constantly, trying to reach the Swede’s side. Yorgi and Lauren stayed several feet back, surveying the battle from a different, cooler perspective and picking off threats the others didn’t have time to see.

At the side of the mountain, engines roared. The big treble garage was open and swarming with active bodies. The first sign of a vehicle emerging was when a short white nose eased out straight onto the ice. Dahl knew immediately that they had problems.

“Oh, shit. That’s a—”

He didn’t have to finish. Three more vehicles shot out, all different colors. Blue, green, midnight black. Snowmobiles, loaded with people and revving, ready to go. Dahl took off like a streak of lightning, firing constantly. Two sword-wielders came close. He barged one in the chest, hurling him backwards and hit the next practically head on. A withering sack of meat bounced off the Swede and shriveled away to the floor. Another came close, swinging his sword. Dahl ducked under then caught the arm and threw the man overhead, not able to spare the time to see where he landed. Kinimaka was behind now, ducking the airborne attacker and locking onto the snowmobiles.

“No time!” he cried.

The white tracked vehicle shot forward, one of the less popular two-man versions. Not content with that, two robed assassins also clung to the vehicle, somehow perched on the back and holding onto a leather loop. The driver still held his sword but squeezed the throttle with his spare hand and held on.

The second snowmobile, light blue, held Webb and three guards; the third — green — Sabrina and three guards. The last held the thin man and a gaggle of sentries. All at once all four snowmobiles were speeding across the ice and churning up plumes of snow, engines bellowing like angry charging rhinos.

Dahl saw them coming but was still fifteen meters away. He couldn’t shoot with any accuracy on the run and the snowmobiles were already up to twenty miles per hour. They would race past him and be gone before he got anywhere near. A quick glance back showed Kinimaka and Smyth right behind and Yorgi and Lauren tracking them to the side. The robed killers had amalgamated now and were still chasing. Kenzie flitted around their edges like the shadow of death, administering lethal judgment wherever her steel chose to kiss.

He kept running. Never give up. Most of the guards around the garage were gone now, clinging to the protesting snowmobiles, so the interior was open and clear. The view inside was galvanizing to say the least.

Dahl grinned. He turned. “Cover the perimeter,” he said.

Dahl ran as Smyth and Kinimaka laid down a screen of lead, quickly whipping a mag out and slamming in a fresh one. Yorgi and Lauren came around the back, whilst Kenzie broke away and jumped over a kneeling Smyth, holding her new sword high.

Dahl roared up atop a new snowmobile. “Ya got one of those things spare?”

Kenzie hopped on board. “Why? Are you about to go wild?”

“It’s never far from the surface.”

Kenzie found a discarded blade quickly, plundered from the guards they had shot whilst the tracked vehicles made their escape. Then, a sword in each hand, she leaned over Dahl’s right shoulder, her lips close to his ear.

“Ride it hard, Torsten.”

The snowmobile pounced faster than a striking panther. Kenzie’s head whipped back and Dahl hunched over the controls. He jerked a hand at Smyth. “Four more back there. Get a move on, mate.”

The vehicle felt heavy, tracking over the packed ice and then the soft snow, but the handlebars turned easily and the windshield offered good protection. He ignored all the little buttons, trusting that all he needed was speed and power. He already knew where the brake lever was, but had no intentions of using it. In the mirror he saw Yorgi and Lauren emerging from the enormous garage, both astride snowmobiles and angling them toward Kinimaka and Smyth, who continued to hold off the robed sentries. Their job was made easier by dozens more men heading into the garage to view what was left.

Should have disabled the rest.

No time!

Gliding and springing over the snow and unseen bumps, he swerved in the tracks of the rearmost vehicle. They were gaining as their enemies were heavier, hampered by unbalanced men, and having to closely follow three other vehicles; clearly with no distinct plan in mind.

Dahl tried sighting over the windshield whilst guiding the handlebars with one hand, found it didn’t work and almost sent them somersaulting into a tree. Kenzie rapped him on the top of the head.

“Get closer, idiot.”

“Thanks. I figured that one already.”

They raced closer. Behind, Kinimaka clung to Yorgi whilst Smyth looked, not surprisingly, rather unhappy seated behind Lauren. The New Yorker chewed her lips like gum as she concentrated hard to steer and keep them safe. A horde of sentries screamed after them, but now with no chance of keeping up. In the far distance Dahl heard the sudden roaring start-up of more engines.

“We have to end this.”

“Just get me close.”

The tracks slipped and leaped, never still. Dahl shifted the handlebars, taking the bumps in his stride. Lauren roared a bit closer, prompting Kenzie to slap him hard on the back. He pushed it to the absolute limit, sensing he’d held off a little for safety’s sake. He could see the thin man now, the voluminous robe wrapped around him and yet still billowing out. Swords bristled all around him. Dahl was conscious that they had to get past almost every snowmobile to reach Webb’s.

“Don’t worry,” Kenzie said as if reading his mind. “It’s a long way back to Zurich Town.”

“The light will start failing soon.”

The day was dwindling away, he knew. And although a vast illumination of light guided their way now, revealing every pitfall, he’d hate to be forced to take this route by night. Something told him the guards knew the way.

“Get ready, Kenzie.”

She rose, black-haired and lithe, a sword in each hand. She balanced on the footrests as Dahl squeezed a drop more power from the screaming engine. They came alongside the black snowmobile; the closest sentry swung his sword down in one hand whilst holding on tight with the other. Unbalanced, he appeared ungainly, but the blade came down no less sharply. Kenzie deflected it and sent her second sword thrusting into his midriff, then withdrew quickly. The man grunted and fell away, bouncing in their wake and spraying blood across the snow.

Another took his place.

Dahl inched the vehicle closer, tracks almost touching and spray pluming up all along the sides. The thin man merely stared at him. Kenzie fenced with the rear guard, deflecting and searching for an opening. A sharp hill made her stagger, their snowmobile catching air for three seconds alongside the other, but on landing she caught herself and sliced down at her opponent’s wrist.

The sword fell away, still attached to the hand.

The man jumped over at her, hitting their vehicle with a crash. She caught him and dropped a shoulder, sending him spinning over the seat. His remaining hand managed to catch hold of her foot, but the rest of his body dangled over the side, his feet scraping chunks from the earth.

Kenzie kicked him point blank in the face and turned her back as he tumbled away.

The next guard didn’t bother holding on, just came at her with both hands clasped around the hilt of his sword. Kenzie blocked as the two snowmobiles blasted over a stretch of level ground. Dahl saw an opening, steered again with one arm, and raised his handgun in the other.

Sighted on the driver.

The thin man — the High Master — suddenly came to life. His frail-seeming hands, until now clasped together, twitched and sent a black object spinning at Dahl. It struck the gun arrow-straight, made him drop it to the floorboards and let out a grunt of shock. What the hell? He’d seen the flash and gyration of a ninja star and was grateful it hadn’t lodged in his neck. Another twitch of the fingers and Dahl ducked, inadvertently swinging the snowmobile away. Kenzie staggered and the Swede felt a nick across the side of the face.

Don’t fuck with the Mad Swede, bro.

Kenzie was screaming in anger and surprise, but Dahl had no time for that. Teeth grating, he swerved the vehicle sharply with a quick turn of the handlebars.

They came together hard, ice and snow exploding all around the impact, sparks kicking off the engines and chunks of metal ripping free. Dahl clung on grimly, shouting at their enemies, still turning the handlebars so the vehicles stayed together. Kenzie grabbed hold of her opponent and tugged him free, jumping up as he tumbled clear off the back.

The last guard engaged her. That left the High Master and the driver.

Dahl took that responsibility.

At that moment, Lauren came speeding past, gliding along at high speed and then Yorgi, struggling with Kinimaka’s bulk but tweaking the throttle gamely to hang on to Lauren’s slipstream.

Dahl leapt across to the black snowmobile, planted his feet on the floorboards and faced the High Master. With one hand, and without looking, he made a motion. Kenzie’s spare sword flickered through the turbulent air, spinning, catching light, and then his fingers were clasping around the hilt and bringing it slicing down in a single motion.

The thin man held up a hand as if to ward off the blade.

Dahl shuddered as his sword came down on a heavy metal wristband, making it ricochet away. A thin stiletto appeared from under the black robes and darted at Dahl’s midriff. He fell back on the long seat, and brought his legs up under the man’s chin.

The head whipped back hard, neck muscles creaking. The driver glanced back, eyes terrified as they met the Swede’s. Dahl rose, sword high and brought it down hard. Behind him Kenzie parried and thrust, every second a blow, until her enemy was run through and falling, falling like an old marionette whose strings had all frayed away.

Dahl skewered the High Master, then bounded up beside the driver.

“One chance,” he said. “Jump the fuck off right now.”

The man complied. Dahl saw their own snowmobile, miraculously still attached to the black one, was now starting to drag, presenting a danger. He glanced back at Kenzie.

“Hop over there, love, and set that thing free. And throw me that handgun.”

Ahead, the battle raged.