by David Wood
“Stone,” Kasey prompted. “Let’s move.”
He nodded, surprised by his reaction and seized hold of the iron spear head. There was no discharge of holy fire, not even a sense of touching something forbidden. It was just an inanimate hunk of metal. He thrust it into a nylon duffel bag he had brought along for just this purpose, and then slung the parcel over one shoulder.
“Done,” he said, though he knew that, in reality they were only halfway to their goal. They had succeeded in acquiring the Spear, but the victory celebration would have to wait until they were safely out of the palace and back on more familiar ground.
He carefully repacked the crate so there would be no outward sign of disturbance, and then led Kasey out of the vault. Their exit was methodical. Stone knew that, with the end of the endeavor almost in sight, it was all the more important to pay attention to details. He gathered the rest of his surveillance cameras, and then they retraced their steps back to the stairwell.
Using the iPad, he brought up the security interface and isolated the alarm for the door leading back into the palace complex. But as he reached out a finger to disable the alarm, the screen suddenly flashed red. At almost the same instant, a harsh claxon sound began to reverberate through the hollow metal door.
“What did you do?” Panic tinged Kasey’s voice.
Stone’s brow furrowed. As he studied the screen, he could hear the rasp of security gates dropping in the hallway beyond.
Avery’s voice sounded in his ear, echoing Kasey’s question. “What’s going on in there? Did you trip an alarm?”
Tam chimed in as well. “Stone, what’s going on?”
He ignored them all, focusing instead on the information being relayed through the security network. An alarm had been tripped, but not by him. He pinpointed the source of the alert. It was coming from the Imperial Treasury. He tapped the controls to get access to the closed circuit cameras, and on an impulse that might have been a premonition, checked the Treasure Room.
There was a haze in the air that might have been static—Stone knew it was smoke—and through it, he could make out the case where the relics of the True Cross were kept.
The case had been shattered and the Spear, or rather the replica, was missing.
Stone felt his pulse quicken. Something was very wrong about this.
Avery’s voice sounded again. “The place is crawling with guards now. It looks like they’re doing a sweep of the entire palace. There are security gates down all over the place. You won’t be able to get out.”
Stone continued to stare at the feed from the Treasure Room, trying to make sense of the theft. Was this all a Dominion ruse? A trap set to catch them in the act of stealing the Spear?
The pattern eluded him. He simply didn’t have enough information.
The alarm had been sounding for less than a minute. The thief had to still be on the premises. He broke his silence. “Avery, watch the cameras for anyone that isn’t a guard.”
“Which cameras?”
“All of them. Tam, you need to watch the exterior. There’s another intruder in the museum and he’s going to be looking for a way out.”
“There’s only two of us Stone,” Tam replied. “We can’t watch every exit.”
“Watch the places where there aren’t any exits. He won’t be leaving out the front door.”
There was a flurry of noise as Tam relayed the order to Greg, then she spoke directly into her mic. “What about you?
Stone turned to Kasey and nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging gesture. “We won’t be leaving out the front either.”
CHAPTER 9
Tam Broderick’s gut was churning. From her vantage at the edge of the Heldenplatz, she could hear the alarms going off inside the palace grounds. The disturbance had already drawn the notice of passersby out for a stroll in the wintry evening. She could also hear the noise of police sirens, growing louder as they closed in on the palace. Meanwhile, Stone and Kasey were trapped inside, sealed in behind a sequence of heavy steel security shutters that could only be opened manually by the contingent of guards who were already sweeping through the palace. While the situation had not yet reached the point where she could justifiably forego her self-imposed ban on blue language, the trajectory of events was not cause for hope. As Stone might put it, there were too many variables in play right now.
If there was a bright spot though, it was Stone himself. She had known him for years, almost all her life. If anyone could think his way out of a tight spot, it was Stone.
She spoke into her concealed microphone. “Greg, you see anything?”
She had sent Greg on foot to the southeast side of the palace. His reply, when it came, was slightly out of breath. “A lot of people gawking.”
“Keep your eyes peeled.”
Avery broke in. “Tam, I’ve got something. There’s someone in the library.”
“That’s not much help. Where is the library?”
“In the Neue Burg wing… right in front of you.”
Tam scanned the expansive neoclassical exterior for any sign of activity and after a few seconds, glimpsed a shadow moving behind the columns on the north balcony. She followed the shape—definitely a man—until it reached the far end, only a few hundred feet from her location.
“I see him,” she reported.
A burst of static filled her ear, but through the haze, she could make out Stone’s voice. “Don’t let him escape.”
Tam breathed a five dollar curse. The intruder, whomever he was, obviously had the wrong Spear. What difference did it make if he got away?
“Greg. Get back over here.” She drew a compact Makarov from a holster at the small of her back and started for the edge of the building. Although CIA officers were discouraged from carrying weapons in the course of normal operations on foreign soil, Tam’s crusade against the Dominion had too often escalated into open combat, so carrying a concealed sidearm was now Myrmidon SOP. For her own part, it had been a long time since she went anywhere without the Russian-made semi-automatic pistol.
High above, the shadowy figure had just swung out over the balcony rail. A pair of dark lines trailed beneath him, and as she watched, he leaped out into space, rappelling down to the snowy ground below. The man moved with a smooth, unhurried professionalism, reeling in the rope so that there would be no physical evidence left behind. He was average height, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. He wore all black, with a ski mask covering his head, and a small pack was slung across his back.
Tam charged forward, drawing a bead on the dark figure. “Keep those hands where I can see them!” She didn’t know if the man spoke English, but her stentorian command was unmistakable in any language.
The man stiffened and let the coiled rope fall. His arms came up slowly, empty hands rising to shoulder level, and then he turned toward her. When he caught sight of her, the eyes, barely visible through the holes in the mask, went wide in surprise. Then he started laughing,
“You are a shade too dark to be Austrian police, I think.” The voice was gravelly, but there was no mistaking the man’s harsh Slavic accent. Russian? “And you are definitely not one of them.”
“One of who? The Dominion?”
The man laughed again. “American. CIA, I think, which means you have no authority here. Run along before you get hurt.”
She waggled the gun. “This is all the authority I need.”
“You would kill me? I think your government would not like that.”
“If I couldn’t handle the heat, sugar, I would’ve stayed out of the kitchen. Besides, I don’t need to kill you. A round in the knee is a lot easier to explain. So unless you want a permanent limp, how ‘bout you take that mask off, nice and slow, and let me get a look at your ugly mug.”
The man inclined his head, and then with exaggerated slowness, reached up and peeled back the ski mask. Ugly mug was putting it mildly. The man had the battered features of a veteran brawler and a lunar landscape of pockma
rk scars on his face, but there was a dangerous glimmer of intelligence in his eyes. His lips curled into a humorless smile.
“Are you enjoying Vienna?” He gestured toward the palace behind him. “Is beautiful, tragic city.”
“You’re talking, but you’re not saying anything I want to hear. Let’s start with a name.”
He ignored her. “Do you think Emperor Franz Josef saw what was coming? Saw that it would all end with him? One day, this is center of world. The next, is a tired nearly forgotten museum. Just like America.”
Tam did not like the soliloquy one bit. The man was stalling, trying to distract her, and she knew it.
“You think is your destiny to rule world,” he continued. “You don’t even realize that sun is setting on American Empire.”
“Destiny?” Tam was unable to completely hide her surprise. “Let’s talk about that.”
There was a flicker of understanding in the man’s expression. “Ah, you know this word. Then is not coincidence that you are here.”
She lowered her aim a few degrees, putting his left knee in her sights. “Name. Who the hell are you?”
“Makarov,” he said. “A good choice. I have one, too.”
“I hope you’re not stupid enough to go for it.”
“I don’t need to,” the man said.
His gaze flicked subtly to his left. Tam thought it was an attempt to distract her, but a moment later she heard the roar of an engine.
She reacted without hesitation, whipping her gun arm in the direction of the noise and firing two shots in quick succession before her brain could even register the car speeding toward her. As soon as the second shot was loosed she threw herself backward.
Not quite fast enough. The front bumper clipped her foot, spinning her in midair, to send her reeling into a snowdrift. A sharp pain shot through her ankle, and the impact with the ground drove the breath from her lungs.
Behind her, the car slid to a stop. She heard someone shouting—definitely Russian—and a door slammed. The engine revved, and there was a rasping sound as the tires hissed on the wet pavement, then it was moving again, accelerating away faster than Tam could gather her wits. She rolled over, ignoring the pain, fumbling for her Makarov. She aimed at the retreating taillights and squeezed the trigger. The red light winked out. Tam adjusted her aim, walking the rounds lower in hopes of taking out a tire, but an instant later, the car reached the street, slewed right, and vanished.
“Tam?” Greg said in her ear. “Where are you?”
“North edge of the lot,” she said, the words coming out in little gasps as she fought to catch her wind. “Bring the car. Hurry. He’s getting away.”
“On it.”
She cautiously rose to her feet. The ankle held her weight, barely, but her dignity was in worse shape than her foot. She muttered another five dollar curse and hobbled in the direction of the approaching car driven by Greg. The tumble in the snow had left her clothes damp and the frigid night air had chilled flesh and bone, causing her to shiver uncontrollably.
“Lord, let me never complain about the Florida humidity again,” she muttered as she settled into the passenger seat.
Greg accelerated out of the parking lot and hit the street, a narrow lane that ran along the northeastern edge of the plaza. There was only one way to go—north. Two hundred yards ahead of them a dark shape with only one working taillight was turning west. “I see him,” Greg assured her.
Tam keyed her microphone. “Stone, we’re in pursuit of the burglar. What’s your status? Have you found a way out yet?”
There was no answer.
Greg reached the turn and took it at a speed slightly in excess of what could be called safe. The rented car fishtailed and nearly went into a spin, but Greg deftly steered out of it and a moment later was closing the distance on their quarry.
“Stone, do you read me?” When there was no reply, she spoke again. “Avery, is there any sign of them?”
“No,” Avery said. “I think they’re in the sub-basement again. But the guards are heading to that section. They’re going to be trapped.”
Tam drummed her fingers on the dashboard. Stone and Kasey were in trouble. And they had the real Spear, which made it doubly critical to ensure that they were not caught. But what could she actually do to help them?
The Russian burglar, whomever he was, had the wrong Spear, which meant her Myrmidons had already foiled the Dominion’s plans, whatever they were. But stopping the Dominion was a defensive game. Catching the thief, or better yet, following him to learn more about the operation, would give her a chance to go on the offensive, perhaps shut the European Dominion down, even as they had the American chapter following the Atlantis incident a year earlier.
She tried the radio again. “Stone, do you read me?” Talk to me, Stone, she thought. What do you want me do?
He had already told her what to do. Go after him. She didn’t know why, but Stone clearly thought it was important. And he had sounded confident of his ability to find another way out of the Hofburg.
I’m gonna trust you Stone. Don’t let me down. She turned to Greg. “Go!”
Although her curiosity burned, Kasey Kim was too much of a professional to ply Stone with questions as they ran through the maze of corridors. He seemed to have some kind of plan, and given the circumstances, that was good enough for her. For the moment, at least.
Stone came to an abrupt halt and raised a hand, signaling her to stop. Or be quiet. She wasn’t sure which, but figured both were good. He tapped his night vision goggles, signaling her to put hers on, and then switched off his headlamp, plunging their world into darkness.
With her goggles on, she simply watched Stone, waiting for an explanation. A few seconds later, she got it.
She saw the lights first. The night vision optics worked by amplifying available light, so even though the source of the illumination was faint, and made fainter still by the corners and angles of the tunnel system from which it was imperfectly reflected, the green glow was bright enough for her to recognize it for what it was. Then she heard the voices.
“I thought only a few people even knew about the sub-basement,” she whispered.
Stone nodded. “Unfortunately, one of those people was in the building tonight.”
“You think Zanger sent the guards down here?”
“Thieves are naturally suspicious. He’s got to be wondering if this is related to what he’s been up to.” He motioned down the corridor. “Come on.”
Stone padded quietly but quickly through the halls with such confidence that Kasey was completely shocked when the passage through which they were moving ended suddenly at a brick wall. Stone halted and placed his hands on the wall, tracing the mortar seam, as if trying to figure out why the barrier had been placed there.
“Is this new?” Kasey whispered. “Something added after your map was made?”
“Not exactly.” He shrugged off the duffel bag and took something from it. Kasey’s eyes widened when she saw that he was holding the Spear of Destiny.
“What are you going to do with—Shit!”
With a savage thrust, Stone jammed the point of the old lance into the wall. There was a bright flash in Kasey’s night vision device as the iron blade threw off a friction spark on contact. Stone stabbed the wall again, striking it repeatedly. Motes of dust and smoke swirled in the air, glinting in the monochrome display like fairy sparkles from an old Disney movie.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kasey’s voice was louder than a whisper, but not nearly as loud as the noise of the impacts. She knew the answer. Stone was trying to chip his way through a brick wall. What she couldn’t understand, or even articulate in a question, was why he was doing it, and why he was using the Spear of Destiny as his chisel.
Stone stopped his attack as abruptly as he had begun it, and without looking, thrust both the Spear and the empty pack in Kasey’s direction. She stared at it in mute disbelief for a moment, unable to comprehend his intent.
The tip of the relic was now blunted and slightly bent, and there were deep scratches in the black iron, but aside from that, it was in surprisingly good shape.
“Take it,” Stone said, shaking the items. “I need my hands free.”
Kasey took the Spear, remembering her earlier superstitious determination not to touch it only after it was already in her hands.
Oh well, she thought. Too late to worry about it now. If we manage to get out of this alive, Tam’s probably going to kill me for letting him mangle the Spear, anyway.
Stone lowered his shoulder to the wall and lurched forward, slamming into it like a linebacker hitting the scrimmage. There was a muted thud and an odd scraping sound upon impact. Stone drew back and charged again, and this time, the wall buckled, filling the air with noise and more dust. When he pulled away from the wall, Kasey saw that the place Stone had attacked with the Spear was gone. Now, there was just a dark hole, big enough for her to put head and shoulders through. Stone slammed into the bricks again, and this time the entire wall collapsed, sending him crashing into the darkness beyond.
Stone was on his feet in an instant, though she could barely see him amid the cloud of dust raised by the demolition of the wall. “This way,” he said, and then turned and disappeared into the gloom.
Kasey shoved the Spear into the bag and carefully picked her way through the rubble. Beyond the hole, the tunnel continued though the walls were rougher, and the air smelled of dampness and decay. “What is this place?”
“Secret passage,” Stone said without looking back. “There are all kinds of tunnels and crypts running under the whole city.”
“How did you know it was there?”
“I guessed.”
“You…what?”
With each step, the passage became less like something from a medieval fortress and more like a naturally occurring cavern. “The layout made me think that the original underground portion of the palace was originally much more extensive.”