A Tsar's Gold (Parker Chase Book 6)

by Andrew Clawson

  “Get your gun,” Alexander shouted. He reached into his bag and came up with a weapon. Pistol in hand, he fired toward the front of the police car where the officers had last been seen. “Shoot back. Get that rifle under control.” More shots, the last one followed by Jane screaming. Alexander shoved her to the floorboards with an order to stay put.

  Parker grabbed his gun, checked that it was loaded and then nearly had his head taken off. A bullet pinged around the interior, breaking the far window on its way out. Parker hit the deck. Stay down. Think, dammit. Use your head. From the sound of things Alexander had already taken out one cop and was hard at work on getting the other. Jane was buried in the footwell, as safe as you could be in the middle of a gunfight, with the undercarriage structure offering protection. All of which meant nothing if he didn’t take out the rifle.

  A lifelong hunter, he knew the sound of a .270 when he heard it. From this range it would punch through the car with ease. Which meant he had to be smarter than that guy. With their car facing into the woods, front end plowed against the cop car, he decided to take a chance. If Parker knew the rifle could blast through the car frame with ease, so did the shooter. He opened his door and kicked it out. A second later the door had a baseball-sized hole in it, right where Parker would have been if he had crouched behind it for cover.

  Which is why he darted out the other side. Toward the cops engaged with Alexander. The last thing they’d expect him to do. He dropped to one knee and peered around the open door to find one cop dead on the ground and the other locked on Alexander. Parker pulled the trigger twice, aiming for the legs. The first shot missed. His second was true. The cop screamed, clutching one knee as he fell to the ground and dropped his pistol.

  Parker kicked the gun away, then before he could react Alexander flew over top of him and thumped the fallen cop’s neck with the flat side of his hand, karate-style. The guy stopped screaming.

  “Grab his belt.” Alexander shoved the pistol in his waist, working to remove the man’s belt. “He is only stunned.”

  The fallen cop was still breathing. His knee was a mess, though it wasn’t bleeding terribly and Parker doubted his life was in danger. Then the rifle boomed again. The cop may be safe, but they sure weren’t. “Here.” Parker pulled off the wounded cop’s belt and handed it to Alexander, who proceeded to tie his wrists together before removing the dead cop’s belt. “If we tie his legs as well, we are safe.” A moment later it was done. “There. Now, what about the rifleman?”

  Jane peered at them from around the Mercedes door. “Get back,” Parker said. “Stay in there.”

  “These men are not real police officers,” Alexander said. “Look. Their uniforms do not match. These are civilian clothes. And the badges are fake.”

  “Worry about that later,” Parker said. “They could have backup on the way. The rifleman probably has a phone to call for help.” Another shot, the bullet banging off asphalt. He looked inside the police car, which they could now see was nothing more than a car with a blue light slapped on top. Same model as the local cop cars, but that’s as far as it went. Whoever these guys were, they threw this bogus road stop together in a hurry. Then sunlight flashed off the keys hanging from the ignition. “Get in here.” He leaned close to Alexander as the rifle fired and told him the plan.

  Parker shimmied into the car first, staying low. Alexander followed into the driver’s seat. He turned the key, the engine fired, and he punched it. Parker was thrown back as the car leapt forward, metal screeching as they scraped along the Mercedes front end before the cop car bucked free. Alexander accelerated toward the trees. Their windshield spiderwebbed into a thousand pieces when a bullet punched through it. Another shot ripped through next to the first, though the windshield glass held. Parker couldn’t see the trees approaching, but Alexander shouted an instant before slamming the brakes. “Go for it.”

  The Russian threw his door open, leaned out and started shooting. As the covering fire flew, Parker dove out the other side and army-crawled into the woods. With Alexander keeping the rifleman busy he should be able to get around the guy and take him out. Cool shadows enveloped him as the made it past the first trees, his passage silenced by the thick bed of dirt and lush grass below. Alexander kept firing, Parker kept crawling, and moments later he spotted the rifleman.

  He had perched flat atop a Volkswagen to fire from an elevated position. A bookbag provided steadying support for the rifle. Parker rose to a knee, slowly, heart thudding as he fought to keep his hands steady. Alexander’s barrage continued. The rifleman hadn’t spotted him even though Parker was fifteen yards away at best. Parker reached for his gun at the same time Alexander’s magazine ran dry. Shots stopped coming long enough for the rifleman to look up and return fire, his shots forcing Alexander to turn and disappear around the rear of the police car. Parker stood, bringing his gun around, and then dropped it.

  The pistol slipped out of his grasp. His movement caught the rifleman’s eye. The gunman turned, bringing his rifle to bear on Parker. At this distance he didn’t bother with the mounted scope, looking Parker directly in the eyes as he took aim. Parker dove for the nearest tree. It was too far. He’d never make it.

  A blast filled the air. Parker fell, his mouth falling open in disbelief. The guy missed. From this close. And not only that, but for some incomprehensible reason he was gyrating, almost as though a seizure had taken hold. Only when Parker hit the ground did he see why.

  Jane was on the other side of the parked Volkswagen holding what looked to be a gun. Two metal wires protruded from the rifleman’s body, leading back to the Taser Jane was using to blast him with electricity. Not until her finger came off the trigger did the rifleman cease jerking in fits. He collapsed onto the roof for a moment before sliding off to land on the ground with a gentle thud.

  It all happened in seconds. Parker grabbed his gun and ran over. “Jane, are you hurt?”

  Footsteps from behind. He turned to find Alexander racing over. “Is he dead?”

  “No,” Parker said. “Jane shot him with a Taser. Where did you get that?” he asked her.

  “From one of the cops. I didn’t want to hide in the car and do nothing.”

  “You saved my life.”

  She looked to the ground, then up at him. “You’d do the same for me.”

  Alexander grabbed Parker’s arm, breaking his focus on Jane. “We must go. Now. Help me secure this man first.” After the rifleman was tied with a belt and some shoelaces, Alexander pointed to the Mercedes. “We cannot use that vehicle. There is too much damage.”

  “What about their car?” Jane indicated the Volkswagen. “If the keys are around, that is.”

  Alexander dug through the rifleman’s pockets. “Found them. Get in.” Parker jumped into the rear seat as Jane took shotgun. Alexander floored it, sending him backwards like a rollercoaster. The anonymous Volkswagen sedan was like most European cars, heavy on the gas mileage and light on power. Alexander had the engine redlined as they hurtled into Austria. “Salzburg is less than thirty minutes from here. We cannot worry about what happened here; we must carry on. Time has become our enemy.”

  The gravity of their situation hit Parker with a near-physical force, pushing him back into his seat. Whoever these Germens were following Claus’s trail, they had friends in high places. False police creating a bogus kidnapping checkpoint, complete with a hidden sniper? Alexander was right. This was a race, and in this kind of contest, you didn’t get a medal for second.

  Chapter 17

  Salzburg

  An hour later found the trio utterly lost in Salzburg. Alexander had taken them directly into the city, where he’d parked on a quiet side street, away from the main roadways. They walked into an underground parking lot, separated, then took three separate stairwells to ground level before disappearing into the mass of pedestrians walking the winding streets. Ten minutes of circling later they were in an indoor shopping center. Alexander paid a vendor cash for three hats.
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  “Put these on.” The Russian handed them each a baseball cap. “We’ll leave through different entrances and get taxis. Hand the slip of paper I gave you to your drivers. It is an address two blocks from Salzburg Cathedral.”

  Crowds flowed past as they stood in the mall, gathered outside a shuttered news store. Mostly couples heading for dinner or out to one of the many bars. “Lots of people out tonight,” Parker said. “I hope they’re not all going to the cathedral.”

  “Not at this hour,” Jane said. “Remember, this isn’t a normal dinner crowd.” She pointed to one of the German-language newspapers on display in a window behind Parker. “The political rally is tonight. It’s across from the cathedral.”

  “Hold on.” Parker squinted at the front page. “Is that the German politician Otto told us about?”

  “Frank Weidel,” Jane said. “His far-right party is losing ground. He’s a star of sorts in Germany and the Freedom Party of Austria brought him here to rally the troops. Their platforms are similar.”

  “Easier to get lost in big crowds than small ones,” Parker said.

  “Agreed.” Alexander pointed them each to an exit. “Stagger your departures by one minute. I will see you inside the cathedral.” With that, he slid into the flowing stream of people and vanished.

  Jane left a minute later, leaving Parker alone. A police officer passed as Parker busied himself studying a newspaper he couldn’t read. The gun tucked in his waistband felt like stone. At least he’d unloaded it so the damn thing wouldn’t go off on its own. Now the only risk was getting caught with it.

  His mental countdown reached zero. Time to go. Forcing himself to keep an easy pace, he made it outside and to the street without incident. Taxis rolled by at a steady clip; he hailed the third one he saw and handed over his destination. The driver barely glanced at it before swerving back into traffic. When the cab stopped, Parker paid cash and then jumped out. He faced a sea of humanity.

  Freedom Party of Austria shirts were in abundance. Blue was the color of choice, from hats to signs to the myriad flags flying on poles and sticks. Spontaneous chants broke out as he walked. The crowd ranged from young to old, a mix of men and women, though nearly everyone in sight shared one common trait: light skin. Parker skirted the worst of the throng, one hand on his wallet and the other protecting the firearm as he headed toward the cathedral. As luck would have it, the public square hosting this rally ended at a small road several hundred feet in front of the cathedral, a natural barrier to keep most of the rally-goers on the far side.

  He dodged a single car as he crossed, stopping when his feet hit the far sidewalk. Parker couldn’t help but gawk at what waited. The Baroque edifice soared over a hundred feet in the air, rising like a gate to heaven. Two bell towers flanked the main entrance, the bright marble façade glowing with the reflected brilliance of ground-level spotlights. The towers were damned high, and one of them had Maria in it. He pushed that thought away and admired the Virgin Mary statue in the plaza’s center, the robed lady standing atop a marble globe and clouds.

  Three curved archways opened to a covered courtyard. Parker pushed through the lone open door and found himself in a room that called to mind the grandeur of St. Peter’s Basilica. Enormous stone arches supported a curved ceiling rising to untouchable heights. Intricate carvings and vivid murals decorated every surface. Soft light fell from hanging sconces, some on chains attached to the ceiling and others affixed to the wall. Pews outnumbered worshippers five to one, with perhaps ten of the faithful seated before the main altar.

  “Parker.” Alexander appeared at his elbow. “Jane is by the stairs.” He inclined his head, and Parker spotted Jane huddled against a wall in the distance, close to a small door. “That door provides access to the upper levels. From there, we can climb the bell tower to Maria.”

  “That door doesn’t happen to be open, does it?”

  “It is. The church staff are quite vigilant, though. Be careful not to draw their attention.”

  The marble floor gleamed as they crossed beneath painted saints and statues of angels and joined Jane by the door. Nobody was within fifty feet of them. Jane had one hand on the door handle. “Are we good?” she asked.

  “Act as though you belong,” Alexander said. “An excellent first rule of breaking others.”

  Jane pushed the door open and slipped through, Parker and Alexander following suit. “It’s all up from here,” she said. A stairway switch-backed into the darkness above, fuzzy dots of sterile white light breaking the gloom on every landing. As tall as this staircase was, however, Parker could see that it climbed barely halfway to the bell tower.

  He pictured the exterior in his mind’s eye. “I bet that top landing leads to another hall, which should connect us to the tower.”

  “Which is where we find Maria,” Jane said. She took the lead and jogged upstairs, Alexander on her heels as Parker brought up the rear. The creaks of the ancient wood echoed off the stone walls. A door on the top landing proved to be unlocked, and before Parker followed the others through, he looked back down the stairwell, listening carefully. No one had followed them in.

  “You were right,” Jane called. “This hallway runs straight to the bell tower.”

  Parker stepped through the doorway and caught up with Jane and Alexander. Their path was lit by a string of safety lights tucked into the ceiling. At the far end was another door. Jane gave it a push and it opened. The three of them stuck their heads through and peered up.

  “That’s not too far,” Jane said.

  Stairs rotated around the interior walls, ten steps up to a square platform, then ten more steps, repeated until the last one, far above them. From there, a ladder topped by a hatch led to what had to be the belfry floor.

  They climbed in single file until Jane stood in front of the ladder. There wasn’t enough room for them all to stand with her.

  “Should one of us stand guard?” she asked.

  “You plan on jumping off the tower to escape?” Parker pointed down. “We’ve trapped ourselves. There’s only one way out. I say we all search for whatever Claus left. The sooner we find it, the sooner we’re back on the ground – if it’s still here to find.”

  She glared daggers his way. “It’s here. It has to be.”

  Parker lifted his hands. “I’m not saying it isn’t.”

  “I am sure it is here,” Alexander said. “And Parker is correct. We have put ourselves into a perfect trap.” He gestured to the ladder. “Jane, after you.”

  She hurried up without responding, throwing the hatch open with a resounding thud before disappearing through it. Alexander followed, and Parker went last, grabbing the Russian’s outstretched hand to be hauled onto the belfry floor. He sidestepped a storage chest before flipping the hatch shut behind him – one wrong step through that hole and it was a long way down. Only after the hatch slammed home did he focus fully on what they had come all this way to see: the cathedral’s famous bells.

  “There’s six of them.” The massive bells were arranged three in a row, stacked two high, the countless tons framed by wooden posts.

  Warm night air rustled his hair and carried the muted sounds of the rally with it. Openings on all sides gave a bird’s-eye view across the width and breadth of Salzburg. The rally was in full swing, and as Parker grabbed hold of a support pillar a man’s amplified voice crackled to life. The wind picked up. Parker latched onto the nearest wall and didn’t let go.

  “Two from the seventeenth century, the rest from the sixties.” Jane’s voice came from across the room as her cell phone flashlight clicked on. “I’m trying to find Maria.”

  “Turn that off,” Parker said. “This place is open. If anyone sees a light flashing up here and calls the cops, we’re done.”

  Alexander removed a penlight from his pocket, which he shielded before turning on. “Use this instead, and cover the light.”

  Jane snatched the light from Alexander and went back to work. Parker studied the room
as she flitted among the bells without worry. He kept one hand on the wall, stopping as soon as he reached the first corner. “That is the biggest damn bell I’ve ever seen,” he said, pointing to the one closest to him.

  “Second biggest in Austria,” Jane’s disembodied voice told him. “Fourteen tons. But it’s not the one we want.” A moment later she said, “A-ha. Found you. Guys, come over here.”

  Jane pointed her flashlight at the second-biggest bell.

  “This is Maria.” The metal had an aquamarine hue in the gloom. “I’ll check this side. Parker, you take the other. Alexander, look for anything written on the stones around this room. Remember, Claus would have left a note or relic where his sister could find it. Start at the floor and work your way up.”

  “As you command, Dr. White.” The Russian handed Parker a second penlight, then took a third from his pocket, crouched down, and played the light across the walls.

  Parker clicked on his penlight and began inspecting the bell. A new voice rang out from the rally, and judging by the crowd’s reaction, this was the main event. Fervent cheers followed each clipped speech. Not that Parker understood a word of it, apart from the occasional Deutschland reference. He glanced to the crowd, then stood stock-still, task nearly forgotten, staring out over the view. The whole city stretched out beneath him; there were clusters of bright lights in spots, likely residential areas, then rolling fields of darkness lit by nothing except street lamps along the roadways.

  He squinted. Blue and red lights lit the trees lining the street immediately below the bell tower. They flashed off and on, giving the leafy trees an otherworldly appearance as they moved. Police cars. Headed toward the cathedral. It could be anything, he told himself: security for the rally. A motorcade. Anything unrelated to three people trespassing in a bell tower.