The Treasures of Saint Germain

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Dahl saw Lauren come alongside the green snowmobile, her objective Sabrina Balboni, but trying to hide it. Yorgi ran his own vehicle hard in her wake. Two more motored on ahead: Webb’s and the lead one. Dahl looked over at Kenzie who now sped along at his side.

“Wanna help?”

“Not my forte. But hey, now that I have a sword I’m pretty much open for anything.”

Dahl pressed his mic. “Careful with the asset, Lauren and Smyth. Could still be useful.”

Yorgi went full throttle and swept up alongside and then past Lauren. He was in pursuit of Webb, someone they could take down with acute prejudice, and he had Kinimaka in tow. The Hawaiian weighed the back of the snowmobile down but clung on gamely, no doubt seeking any kind of vengeance being so close to Webb.

Dahl let Kenzie jump back aboard and then brought her close to the rear of the green vehicle. A sentry, brain no doubt frazzled with relentless rhetoric, actually leapt straight for them, arms and legs akimbo in mid-air like a flying lizard. The long blade he held vibrated as winds struck its fine steel.

Kenzie rushed forward, covering Dahl who didn’t bat an eye, just kept driving. She caught the oncoming blade six inches from his skull, kicked the descending man hard as he landed, breaking ribs and sending him tumbling overboard, crashing through the snow. Dahl swerved to avoid the body.

They sped up again. It would look suspicious if they didn’t attack the thief’s vehicle. Sabrina sat with her head down, eyes peering from under a hood right back at Dahl. Around her, sentries raged.

Kenzie grabbed the handlebars and shrugged. “Just shoot ’em.”

“Really? Have you had enough swordplay?”

“I want to get to Webb.”

“Yeah,” Dahl admitted. “Me too.” He fired three bullets and three men cartwheeled away. Sabrina stayed low, unthreatening and the driver didn’t even look around. Dahl gauged their submissiveness would be enough to pass them by.

“Now.” Kenzie balanced on the footrests again. “Be my rock.”

He smiled.

On to the blue snowmobile, and Dahl came up on the left as Lauren and Yorgi fought for position on the right. A swirl of sleet, a blinding blizzard, blew up all around the speeding contestants. Webb was trying to order men around. Dahl saw the confusion and despondence in their eyes. Today, they had lost a leader.

Where would they go next? At least three-quarters of them seemed to think sacrifice was a good idea. Kenzie stepped up and caught the onslaught of two men at the same time, their swords clanging together as they all hung off the sides of the vehicles. Dahl held it perfectly steady, Kenzie’s ‘rock’.

Kinimaka’s huge paw held a handgun which he used safely to pick off a robed man on their side; Smyth did the same. After that there was no more safety; the glide, bounce and swerve of the runners were always imperfect.

Ahead, Dahl saw the long slope coming up against a sparse forest and beyond it, he knew, lay the run into Zurich. It stood to reason that the Freemasons would have had a plan.

Then his thoughts were fully occupied as the treeline passed and they were suddenly among thick, branchless trunks. Kenzie knelt down to aid balance as Dahl swerved barely in time to miss one deadly obstacle and then skimmed straight past another, scraping paint from the vehicle and shavings from the tree. The white snowmobile, well ahead, came even closer, losing a mirror and a guard to an extra-wide trunk and twisting roots. The worst thing was that the hapless man just stuck there, in the roots, splayed as if caught in a spider’s web, instantly dead.

Dahl motored past, passing the command along to ensure everyone stayed low. Another huge trunk came up and then he flitted left and right past two more, a lethal chicane and one Drake would be pissed to know he’d missed out on. He grinned smugly.

The ground was terrifyingly uneven, one bump sending them high into the air, unable to steer, and aiming for low branches and the stem behind. At the last moment the runners hit the sparse snow at an angle due to Dahl and Kenzie’s desperate lean, then shot off past the tree. Their slant brought them sideways into Webb’s blue snowmobile, shunting it off course. It struck Lauren’s, then shambled back into forward position, its jarred riders stunned. Dahl was forced to veer widely away again as a giant pair of knobbled trunks blocked their path.

“You see that?” Kenzie called out.

Dahl could see nothing but snow and wood and hanging branches. “What?”

“A road ahead. If it’s the same one we came up on then it’s a direct run into Zurich. This can’t be blind luck.”

“So that’s it.” Dahl nodded. “Knew there had to be a reason.”

The snowmobiles plowed on, the fighting paused for now as the drivers struggled to keep everyone alive. The white leader took off over a ramp-shaped pile of snow, its driver standing, and came down with a double bump, now past the forest and careening toward the ribbon of black tarmac — prominent amongst the fields of snow.

Thunder shook the skies.

Dahl looked up, and although darkness stole among the white-gray clouds he easily spied the running lights of a pair of helicopters. “The cavalry,” he said.

“Or the cultists.” Kinimaka jumped on the comms.

“Too coincidental.” Dahl eased off the throttle as the edge of the forest approached. “How we doing for ammo?”

“Pretty damn good.” Kenzie wielded her sword and grinned.

The others sounded off; not bad after such outright warfare, but then they had come prepared. Not in all ways, he thought, glancing at the beast he straddled and then at Kenzie standing tall with her bloody blade. But the Swede had a soldier’s mind, a soldier’s brain, and made the next decision without pause.

“Lauren, Yorgi, you’re closest. You get Webb. We’ll go after the choppers.”

Easy to say, but the framework was clear in his mind. If they harassed the choppers before they landed the pilots would be forced to evade. He then got a look at the men sat inside the helicopters.

Not robed, not locals. Somehow Webb must have had them stationed in Zurich, and on stand-by. They wouldn’t back down.

Men leaned out of the descending choppers, feet planted on the skids, weapons pointed.

Dahl knew they were sitting ducks. But something didn’t quite sit right. Webb had called these men, sure, but where were the Freemasons going?

He pulled on the handlebars, spun the snowmobile behind a wide trunk as hellfire erupted from above. Bullets stitched the wood, driving huge splinters from the tree. Dahl and Kenzie ducked low. Through the comms he heard Kinimaka and Smyth grunting as they were shunted to safety and the remaining snowmobiles carried on.

Dahl didn’t take defeat easy. He leaned around the trunk, held the Glock in two hands and drew a bead on one of the chopper pilots. Return fire mangled his aim and the bullets shot up toward the clouds. All three remaining snowmobiles had stopped beside the road and one of the choppers was coming down hard, aiming right for the middle. As it neared asphalt mercenaries dropped out to take up perimeter positions.

“Too many.” Smyth cursed. “Too desperate. But they still have our asset.”

Dahl didn’t want to do this all again. He couldn’t fire blindly because he didn’t want to hit the master thief. “Next time,” he said, for no real reason. “We’re bringing grenades.”

Kenzie looked a little hurt, and Dahl had to admit she’d done more than her fair share for the team. Another volley of gunfire swept the treeline, keeping them pinned down. A new sound now roared out of the encroaching darkness, and bright lights flashed and bounced from earth to skies. Dahl knew that sound.

“4x4s,” he said. “Coming up the road. So that was the Freemasons’ getaway.”

The helicopters boomed, their rotors spinning mightily as one took off and the other pulled up. Dahl saw only the robed warriors remaining and the face of Tyler Webb pressed against one of the chopper windows. The man was grinning.

Got what he came for.

But Sabrina was in there too. The day wasn’t totally lost.

“Now,” he said. “Let’s go grab ourselves a couple of vehicles.”