Phoenician wreck. There was one exit straight ahead, which he kept an eye on as he opened the phone and called Agent Wagner.
“Renée here,” she answered. “What did you find?”
Whispering, he said, “Not sure yet, but—are any of your people inside?”
“No, why?”
A shadow flitted across the light in the doorway. “Have them look in on my location. I think I’m being tracked. Someone’s here.”
Caleb backed further into the shadows while keeping a clear view of the corridor.
“Nothing, Caleb. My snipers aren’t seeing a thing, and I’m tracking you with the GPS signal on your phone. We can see you in that room through the western window.
“There’s someone in the hallway behind me.”
“Impossible.”
“Maybe someone hid during the evacuation, or there’s a secret passage or something. Someone waiting for me. Maybe it’s him.” Or worse, Caleb thought. It’s Nina, and I’m as good as dead.
“Okay, listen Caleb. If you think you can chance it, run through the other door and keep running. It’s a long hallway, but with a lot of windows, and—”
Another sound, and a silhouette filled the doorway.
Caleb hoped Renée knew what she was doing. He snapped the phone shut, ducked his head and started to run for the door—just as a dark figure eased into the room before him.
#
Caleb froze, raising his hands, still holding the cell phone. Completely covered in black like a ninja, the intruder glided toward him. It said something incomprehensible from under a black facemask and then did a strange thing. It stopped, and bowed.
Caleb didn’t know how to react. Should he run, laugh or return his bow? Instead, he shifted a foot to his right, concealing the scansion behind his back.
When the stranger’s head raised, his gloved hands rose, and were now holding long curved daggers.
Caleb reached behind him, gripping the cool metal. “Wait, let’s talk a sec.”
The attacker leapt. Caleb ducked and spun around, hauling the heavy scansion up with him and taking his unaware foe in the chest.
A dagger dropped as he grunted, fell, but then sprang right back up. Only two feet away, the dagger beckoned within Caleb’s reach as he let go of the scansion, but he had already made his move toward the door and the long passage.
He ducked and lunged forward, just as something clanged off the granite wall where his head had just been. Then he was sprinting, weaving slightly side to side. Panting, passing each window and getting a glimpse of the towers and walls, the trees, the hills.
Come on, somebody take a shot.
The footsteps behind him were gaining. Maybe preparing another knife for the back of his head. Caleb crossed in front of another window, the last one before the next doorway and a steep winding staircase inside the German tower.
He lunged like an Olympic sprinter at the finish line just as he heard the distant pop and, as he skidded into the tower, angling for the stairs, he heard a grunt and a flopping sound.
Behind him, his pursuer was down, his mask half-blown off, brains and bits of skull obscuring what was left of his face.
Caleb turned, biting his hand and wheezing for breath. He reached for the cell phone, flicked it open. “Good shot,” he said when he finally found his breath. “Thanks.”
“That’s it. We’re getting you out of there. Sit tight, there may be more.”
He glanced out the windows where he half-expected to see the Sultan and half the Moslem army massed at the front gate. “I’ll be back in the Centaur room. Give me cover and another ten minutes.”
“It’s not safe, we have to—”
He hung up, then was about to redial Phoebe when he saw something on the assassin’s neck, above the collar and the torn mask: a gold tattoo that looked like a trident, except with nine flowing things attached to the staff. Frowning, Caleb stared at the configuration for a moment before positioning his phone, pressing the camera function, lining up the shot and taking a
“Renée here,” she answered. “What did you find?”
Whispering, he said, “Not sure yet, but—are any of your people inside?”
“No, why?”
A shadow flitted across the light in the doorway. “Have them look in on my location. I think I’m being tracked. Someone’s here.”
Caleb backed further into the shadows while keeping a clear view of the corridor.
“Nothing, Caleb. My snipers aren’t seeing a thing, and I’m tracking you with the GPS signal on your phone. We can see you in that room through the western window.
“There’s someone in the hallway behind me.”
“Impossible.”
“Maybe someone hid during the evacuation, or there’s a secret passage or something. Someone waiting for me. Maybe it’s him.” Or worse, Caleb thought. It’s Nina, and I’m as good as dead.
“Okay, listen Caleb. If you think you can chance it, run through the other door and keep running. It’s a long hallway, but with a lot of windows, and—”
Another sound, and a silhouette filled the doorway.
Caleb hoped Renée knew what she was doing. He snapped the phone shut, ducked his head and started to run for the door—just as a dark figure eased into the room before him.
#
Caleb froze, raising his hands, still holding the cell phone. Completely covered in black like a ninja, the intruder glided toward him. It said something incomprehensible from under a black facemask and then did a strange thing. It stopped, and bowed.
Caleb didn’t know how to react. Should he run, laugh or return his bow? Instead, he shifted a foot to his right, concealing the scansion behind his back.
When the stranger’s head raised, his gloved hands rose, and were now holding long curved daggers.
Caleb reached behind him, gripping the cool metal. “Wait, let’s talk a sec.”
The attacker leapt. Caleb ducked and spun around, hauling the heavy scansion up with him and taking his unaware foe in the chest.
A dagger dropped as he grunted, fell, but then sprang right back up. Only two feet away, the dagger beckoned within Caleb’s reach as he let go of the scansion, but he had already made his move toward the door and the long passage.
He ducked and lunged forward, just as something clanged off the granite wall where his head had just been. Then he was sprinting, weaving slightly side to side. Panting, passing each window and getting a glimpse of the towers and walls, the trees, the hills.
Come on, somebody take a shot.
The footsteps behind him were gaining. Maybe preparing another knife for the back of his head. Caleb crossed in front of another window, the last one before the next doorway and a steep winding staircase inside the German tower.
He lunged like an Olympic sprinter at the finish line just as he heard the distant pop and, as he skidded into the tower, angling for the stairs, he heard a grunt and a flopping sound.
Behind him, his pursuer was down, his mask half-blown off, brains and bits of skull obscuring what was left of his face.
Caleb turned, biting his hand and wheezing for breath. He reached for the cell phone, flicked it open. “Good shot,” he said when he finally found his breath. “Thanks.”
“That’s it. We’re getting you out of there. Sit tight, there may be more.”
He glanced out the windows where he half-expected to see the Sultan and half the Moslem army massed at the front gate. “I’ll be back in the Centaur room. Give me cover and another ten minutes.”
“It’s not safe, we have to—”
He hung up, then was about to redial Phoebe when he saw something on the assassin’s neck, above the collar and the torn mask: a gold tattoo that looked like a trident, except with nine flowing things attached to the staff. Frowning, Caleb stared at the configuration for a moment before positioning his phone, pressing the camera function, lining up the shot and taking a
Similar Books
