The Treasures of Saint Germain

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO

Hayden fought in the burning pit.

With the raging sunlight beating down from above, the melting asphalt radiating it from below and the glaring brightness all around, she battled her way close to Amari. The Arab and his remaining four acolytes were weak but crazed, untrained but desperate, which made them as dangerous as their mercs in her eyes. No telling what they might do.

She leapt at a man with a facial scar and goatee beard, fired first and sensed him fall away. Her vision filled with another jacket, another merc, always another. Kinimaka moved between crates and drums to her right and Smyth to her left. Lauren and Yorgi were paces behind. Hayden came around another metal barrel, ducked a blow and fell backwards.

Kinimaka took the merc out as he strode after her. She picked herself up, moved forward. A chopper skimmed low overhead. A bullet zipped right through an oil drum, ricocheting past both her and Smyth before either could blink, spilling out viscous liquid in a thick stream. They reached the end of the barrels and Amari was right before them, facing away, facing the jet that carried Tyler Webb.

“Stop it! Stop that plane!”

His acolytes screamed and surged forward, a cluster of grenades held in their hands.

“The Ascended Master must not be disturbed!”

Four acolytes, four men loyal to Amari and his madness, held the grenades aloft.

“Master of Alchemy! Mystic Adventurer! Masonic Guide! I implore your forgiveness for I have failed you!”

Pins were pulled. One grenade in each man’s hand to make eight in total. They would either hurl them or run onto the plane with them. Their dice were cast long ago.

Smyth was on one knee. “All we need is the front runner.”

He breathed, let it escape, and then fired. His bullet took off the top of the lead man’s head, sending his body sprawling and his primed grenade bouncing. Anyone close by scattered except for the other acolytes. Their mission was divine… and blind.

Two grenades exploded, shrapnel shredding the remaining three acolytes in their steps and sending their own bombs into the air. Then came explosion after explosion, flames gouting and fragments flying. Amari watched it all with an open mouth and a face awash with tears. Whether for his friends or for the Count Saint Germain, Hayden knew not.

Amari turned to her, shrieking.

Hayden trained her weapon and stepped forward.

Amari ripped open the front of his shirt to reveal wires, dynamite, and duct tape.

“No! We can—”

Kinimaka flung his entire bulk over her as Amari detonated both the bomb, and himself.