“Francois?” she asked.
“Yes?” the Frenchman responded glaring the whole while at Lino.
“How about you turn that spear around and go at him with the wooden end?”
The older man looked at Ronnie as though he was surprised that he’d been the one tapped. She nodded. Francois then fixed Lino with a vicious smile. The Hidden Hand’s golden hair boy didn’t seem any too pleased, but equally seemed determine to not be intimidated.
“A single spark,” Lino said, low and slow.
Guess Lino wasn’t quite as ready to go up in flames as one might assume a hard-core “bring on the Apocalypse” kind of guy would be. Was Ronnie trying to leverage this fact? Or did she have something else in mind?
Francois didn’t seem to be thinking past “go at him,” though. However, the Frenchman did have enough presence of mind to turn the spear around as he charged Lino. Grabbing a piece of firewood from the cold brazier, Lino defended himself, clearly trying to angle back to the door from which he arrived.
The two men struck and parried, dancing cautiously on the other side of the room.
“What’s the exit strategy?” Zach asked as Francois was knocked back. The guy had the heart of a lion, only he didn’t quite understand that he wasn’t exactly in full-maned form anymore.
Ronnie got that look in her eye. “We are going to make some rain.”
As per usual, Zach had absolutely no idea what she meant, and as per usual, he was just going to ride it out with her.
“Open my pack and grab the largest piece of equipment in there.”
Keeping his gun aimed at the fighting men, Zach knelt, and, one-handed, opened the bag. “What does it look like?”
“Doesn’t matter. It just matters that it is big,” Ronnie said as she typed.
Um, that made no sense whatsoever. What did, though, anymore? Zach fished around and came up with an octagonal-shaped doohickey device. He couldn’t even guess at its use.
“Got it.”
“Great,” Ronnie said glancing over. “Open the plastic latch, but don’t open it, okay?”
Zach wasn’t so sure it was okay. Following Ronnie’s instruction meant holstering his gun. And with the crack of wood and groan of impact, he wasn’t so sure how much longer Francois could keep Lino at bay.
“Kind of time sensitive here,” Ronnie reminded him.
He had trusted her so far. If she wanted a plastic box opened, he might as well open it. “You going to tell me what we are doing?”
“Toss it up there,” Ronnie responded. “Have it smash against the stone as high up against the wall as possible.”
“But—”
“On my count. Five…”
* * *
Francois doubled over as Lino brought to bear his wooden log. Francois’ reflexes were not what they once were and this young man before him was fresh to his strength. Which is why Francois allowed himself to stay doubled over longer than need be. There was prowess and then there was wisdom. Let the young whelp bask in his power. Let him overreach.
“You know what they knew?” Lino said, circling Francois. “They knew you to be a Judas. They followed you to find the other betrayers.”
Francois set his jaw against such petty manipulations.
“Four!” Ronnie shouted.
He did not know what the woman spoke of. It did not matter. Ending Lino’s life was his only concern.
“Batisk. Rommey. Floret,” Lino went on to list Francois’ contacts. “Dead because you were too much of a simpleton to know they allowed you to live only so that you might lead us to them all.”
Blinking, Francois tried to deny the truth in the young man’s words. It could not be. They had been so very careful. And after Francois had left the Hidden Hand, he had been so bent on finding all the paintings that he hadn’t given it a second thought to the others. Francois had just assumed that they disapproved of his seeking the angels’ paintings on his own. To know that they all died because of him?
“Three!”
The woman’s countdown mattered not to Francois. The time to feign weakness was over. Francois cut up with his staff. The wood shaft should have connected with Lino’s chin, but the young man sprang backward, bringing his own heavy log down upon Francois’ shoulder.
Ten years ago Francois would have not have fallen to his knees. Twenty years ago Francois could have dodged the blow. Thirty years ago Lino would not still have been able to strike the blow.
As it was, Francois slammed into the floor. Only the thick carpet beneath his knees broke his fall. His mangled arm let loose of the spear as it tumbled beside him.
“Two!”
Francois looked up into Lino’s hard, dispassionate eyes. Even with all his errors and the blood upon his hands, Francois realized that he would have done it all over again, without hesitation.
* * *
“One!” Ronnie yelled to Zach, and then turned to Francois. “Get down!”
Zach’s throw catapulted the Cipher-meister, Quirk’s mastermind, toward the ceiling. Damn, that guy had an arm on him. The case flung open before hitting the stone. The plastic shattered on impact, exposing the platinum-coated electronics within.
She grabbed Zach’s wrist, dragging him down to rug level as the air sucked upward, creating a wind that lifted her hair.
“What’s happening?” Zach asked, but Ronnie couldn’t answer him. Not with Lino about to clobber Francois.
“Shoot!”
“But you said—”
She didn’t have time to explain that hydrogen was lighter than air. As the internal vortex strengthened, she simply pointed to Lino.
And even through his doubts, Zach raised his gun and fired, clipping Lino in the arm. The spark the firing pin ignited a nearly invisible flame that climbed to the ceiling as the air drafted it up, catching the tent on fire. That white-hot hydrogen flame crackled along the edge of the fabric, sparking a yellow-orange fire. This conflagration stayed suspended mid air caught by the updraft of the hydrogen flame.
Suddenly the wind shifted, pulling the flaming cloth toward the opposite wall. Lino must have exited, for he was nowhere to be seen. Francois was on the floor, but Ronnie couldn’t tell if it was because he was following her orders or if he had collapsed there.
“We need to get out of here!” Zach yelled over the growing din of wind and fire.
“No!” she shouted back, tugging him to the carpet. “We’ve got to stay down!”
Even though it was becoming harder and harder to breathe, Ronnie calculated in her head exactly how much oxygen his rescue was going to consume. Would she save them from burning alive, only to kill them through suffocation?
Zach pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as the fire danced and snapped above their heads. Even the plastic case hovered near the ceiling as sparks shot out of the electronics.
Come on, come on, come on.
Between the hydrogen displacing oxygen and the fire downright consuming it, they didn’t have much air left to breathe.
“What is happening?” Zach asked.
“Nothing, damn it,” Ronnie answered. “The platinum in the electronics should be acting as a catalyst to—”
Then an explosion rang out above, shattering the case. Anything that wasn’t platinum fell to the floor, but all of those tiny platinum-coated parts? Those stayed suspended, helping hydrogen to bond with oxygen.
Mirroring the storm outside, thunder clapped overhead as water poured down.
“How?” Zach asked, trying to catch his breath as the oxygen level lowered even more.
“ ‘H’ two ‘O,’ ” Ronnie commented. “Hydrogen just needed a little help to get together with oxygen, to create water.”
“That’s why it’s harder to breathe?” Zach commented, gulping for air now.
Ronnie nodded, trying to conserve her own air. They just needed to ride out this phase until the combustible hydrogen was consumed then they could—
Without warning, Zach rose u
p, aiming his gun at the stained glass window. “Let’s get some air in here.”
“No!” Ronnie shouted, but it was too late.
Yes, Zach’s shot blew out the window, and yes, the remaining hydrogen was sucked outside. Unfortunately, because of the built-up pressure, Zach too was pulled to the window. Ronnie grabbed hold of the heavy, gilded throne as the Khan’s body was lifted up and out of the broken pane.
Zach tried to scramble for purchase as he involuntarily headed for the window. She clutched the hem of his pants, but the wet fabric slipped through her fingers. Their eyes met as he gripped the broken edges of the window. If there were any way humanly possible, he would stay.
Unfortunately, physics dictated that he should go.
“Zach!” she cried as he vanished out the window in a final gush of air.
Tears streaming down her face, Ronnie held tight to the throne even as it was raised a few inches off the floor. Then with a thud it came back down. Rising to her feet, she rushed over to the window.
First Quirk. Now Zach.
CHAPTER 32
Cutler, Maine
5:01 p.m., EST
Zach felt raindrops hit his face, then splash off. The rain was cold—icy cold—yet Zach didn’t seem to mind. Weird. All he knew was that not just every joint in his body ached, but every attachment to every joint seared with pain as well. And what in the hell had happened to his kidneys?
Something scratchy but soft lay underneath him. He probably should check what it was, but hey. He deserved a few moments, right? Zach let the raindrops fall and splash and fall and splash.
Then a voice, sounding distant yet urgent, called his name. “Zach!” A woman’s voice. A determined voice.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and peered through a hole in the wooden roof to find a woman leaning over a stony ledge. He smiled. She burst into tears.
“Hang on!” she yelled. Why was she crying? Then she turned to the room behind her. “No! Francois! Don’t leave without me.”
The woman turned back to Zach. “I’ll be right down.”
“It’s okay,” he said even though he wasn’t quite certain that was true. “Go after him.”
“Are you sure?” she asked from the second-story window.
Even though it made his head spin, Zach sat up, at least partially. “I’m sure.”
She gave him a radiant smile, despite the tears, and then bolted from view. He was sad to see her go and had a hard time remembering her face. He loved her. Of that there was no doubt, yet it felt as if he had only met her a few days ago.
Again. Weird.
Still, he could feel her lips against his. Wait. Could he remember that? They had kissed, right? With all of this passion built up inside, they had to have consummated it, didn’t they?
That mystery could probably wait though since his priority might be to figure out exactly why he had fallen out of a castle window into an apparent hay shed. He might want to start there.
Rolling to his side, he stopped short. There lay a mummified corpse. A corpse with a crown.
Memories flooded back as Zach pushed away from the dead man.
Khan. Genghis’ grandson if he wasn’t mistaken. Who died from the plague. Urgency fueled Zach’s muscles. Time to get the hell out of here. But another sparkle of gold caught his eye. A gilded dagger. How many innocents had died by that blade? Given the fact he’d lost all his weapons, Zach didn’t have time to be choosy.
Taking the dagger off the corpse’s belt, Zach rolled out of the hay and onto the slick paving stones. The rain now beat down, streaking down his face, dripping from his nose.
Things were still a little hazy, but he knew one thing for certain.
Ronnie needed his help.
* * *
Ronnie raced down the passage, trying to catch up with Francois. Forget bell or leash, the guy needed a freaking cattle prod. To make her leave Zach like that? Sprawled out, who knew how injured? But not even her feelings, her big time feelings for Zach, could matter now that they were so close.
Sprinting, she heard Francois going up another flight of stairs. Normally, she would ask why in the hell he was going up the stairs instead of down them toward the vaccine vault, but she already knew why. Lino.
The Hidden Hand’s boy toy. The plan had been to draw him out, but not quite this far out, and certainly not up.
And why in the hell couldn’t Francois trust her? She had a plan. Yes, it was dangerous, and yes, given every statistic and probability, it was going to fail spectacularly, but which of her plans didn’t have those riders?
Francois’ lust for revenge overshadowed their need to secure the vaccine.
Ronnie wished she could say she was running after him because of some warm connection. Like he had become her father figure or something, but the fact of the matter was, she feared he would take on Lino and succumb too quickly. They needed Lino distracted until they made their move.
Which had been explained to Francois like ten times. Clearly, Francois did not understand exactly how hard it was to break into one of the world’s most safeguarded mainframes while running down a stone hallway.
Ronnie checked her lenses. Her hack was nearly complete. Well, it looked nearly complete. She’d never really gotten this far before to know where “complete” lived. She only needed a few more minutes to be sure.
Then a cry. Angry, pained, and aged, echoed off the walls.
Francois must have found Lino.
* * *
Lino stalked along the edge of the roof, eager to meet this betrayer hand to hand. So much preparation had been made for this day. None could spoil it. God’s word would be uncontroversial. Who could challenge the Hidden Hand once it completed its stunning act of faith?
Francois, less sure-footed than before, stepped onto the roof of the castle. The area had originally been fortified as a helipad, but the men had taken to using the flat surface as a training ground. Given the lack of retaining wall and sheer drop, three stories down, the danger added some excitement to morning exercises.
Lino knew each and every crack in the stone underfoot. Each spur of rock that might trip one unawares. And what of his opponent?
While fury seemed to burn in the traitor’s veins, exhaustion etched his features. Long, gray hair matted by rain framed a craggy visage. Wrinkled and old. Burnt out by a life dedicated to thwarting God’s will. To think that once this feeble, failing, faltering man had once occupied Lino’s position. No wonder the Hidden Hand’s success was only borne now.
Still, Francois strode toward him as the woman lingered in the doorway. Once he dispatched the old man, Lino had a delicious plan awaiting her. He might be able to be lenient with Francois. The burden of carrying God’s will weighed heavily. Most could not bear it without cracking. For Brother Loubom, Lino would send him swiftly to his maker. The woman, though? The infidel? She would feel God’s wrath…personally, and intimately.
But first, he must dispatch the old man.
Francois spoke over his shoulder to the woman. “May I use the steel end?”
“Go for it,” the woman remarked as she typed against the stone wall.
The old man tossed the spear, catching it in midair, then tucking the shaft under his arm, preparing to strike. Lino would need no weapon other than his hands. He allowed Francois to lunge and commit to strike. Stepping to the side, Lino not only avoided the attack, he brought his elbow down at the bend of Francois’ arm, knocking the spear to the side.
A perfect opening. Spinning, Lino brought his hand and base of the palm forward, slamming into Francois’ solar plexus.
Only, instead of the old man dropping to the rain-soaked ground, it was Lino who had to stumble back.
* * *
Francois looked down at the vest Ronnie had provided. A perfect handprint was at the center, etched in gray metal. The fabric had become steel under Lino’s thrust. A blow that should have shattered Francois’ sternum nearly broke Lino’s hand.
For perhaps the fi
rst time in his young life, Lino’s face registered shock. His eyes dilated as he clutched his hand to his chest. So the whelp did feel pain. Francois pounced as Lino shook out the injury.
Francois stabbed forward with the spear, trying to gouge the wound from the stone knife. However, he missed Lino’s midriff. Instead, he only tore his clothes. As Lino pivoted away, Francois yanked the spear back. The sharp edge was equally capable of cutting on the way back. This time the blade caught skin, tearing a thin line of red across Lino’s side.
The boy’s head snapped around, his glare piercing.
Not feeling quite so immortal?
The boy was nothing if not persistent, though. Lino twisted, bringing his leg around, slamming his foot into Francois’ knee. The joint buckled, forcing Francois to use the spear as a crutch.
A backhanded slap from Lino split Francois’ lip. Blood spewed across the slick stone. Francois brought the spear around low, trying to trip Lino. but the younger man jumped over the wooden handle then danced out of range.
Nearly panting, Francois let the cold rain soak into his skin. He had not come up here to this rooftop thinking he would ever leave the castle. All Lino had to do was outwit Francois’ aged joints.
So with each swipe, Francois forced Lino closer and closer to the ledge.
To end one, the two must die.
* * *
Ronnie typed like a madwoman. Really, really mad. As rain streaked her glasses, adding a watercolor effect to the screens, Ronnie cracked the last firewall. She was in. She had the controls. Or at least, she thought she did. Once she rang this bell, there would be no un-ringing it. She would reveal to Lino and the Hidden Hand her entire plan.
If Quirk wasn’t doing what he needed to do… If Zach wasn’t in position... If she did this and it didn’t work…
Encrypted: An Action-Packed Techno-Thriller Page 34