“Hey, let’s keep it friendly,” Cora wagged a finger at him. “I’m checked in all by my lonesome.”
“Trying to figure out who keeps beating you to the punch on these artifacts?” Lucius asked, meeting her gaze with knowing eyes. The fire in them danced and turned as she stared.
Cora wouldn’t be swayed. She smiled and got back to work on her breakfast. “One of yours?”
“I’m afraid not,” he replied. “She’s one of yours, but you’re a smart girl. You already figured that out.”
Cora pointed at him with her fork. “You said ‘she.’”
“It helps if you think of the EU as a country, as I do,” Lucius said, sipping his juice. “Germany would be the capital, as it should be, and these other nations are like states. It’s my job to know what is going on in my backyard.”
“How presidential of you,” Cora rolled her eyes.
“I will, of course, let you continue your little game here in Paris,” Lucius replied. “I can’t go playing whack-a-mole with every endeavor your side makes. I have my own things to do. I hope she finds whatever she is looking for before you draw too much attention, however. Thanks to you destroying Project Phoenix and starting our game early without even knowing what you’re fighting for, I’ve had to move up the timetables. Soon, no museum in the world will be safe from either one of us. People will talk. Governments will worry. Things will escalate.”
“Well, we could always go around back and have an old-timey duel,” Cora quipped. She made a show of patting herself down. “I left my Predator upstairs, though.”
Lucius laughed. “Perhaps another time, then. A word of warning, though. If you’re here for more than the artifacts, I assure you our next meeting will not be as pleasant.”
Cora played dumb. “I don’t even know what you mean by that.”
Lucius bowed his head. He looked down at his wrist and swiped from his Arcadia in the direction of the kitchen. Patting the corners of his mouth with his napkin, he stood up, towering over her. His frame was wide enough to cast a shadow on her twice over. Adjusting his cufflinks, he looked down at her as though she were a child.
“You make me regret everything I’ve ever done,” he said, a revelation he made as plain as commenting on the weather. “It’s too late for us to stop now. I just wanted you to know that. I wish it could be different, too, for what it’s worth.”
“I’m sorry I keep ruining your plans for world domination or whatever the hell you have planned,” she replied with a shrug.
“Enjoy Paris, Cora,” he said with a nod. “I hope I do not have to see you again anytime soon.”
“Goodbye for now, Lucius,” she replied with a bow of her head.
Crowley. He was willing to trade the artifacts and the ninja to warn her away from Crowley. That had to be it, but how he could know that she was even interested in him was beyond her. She watched him walk out the front door, joined by his security detail back to his limousine. As it sped away from view, Cora let out a deep, cleansing breath. She may not have feared him, but he sure did make her edgy as all hell.
She got up and left the cafe, grateful for the fresh air between the buildings. All the while, she analyzed and pored over his every word to her. Where Still River’s prophecies were cryptic, Lucius was measured. The truth of what he knew hid among details that seemed innocuous. She was starting to understand to read between the lines of everything he ever told her.
Halfway across the lobby, she stopped in her tracks. The epiphany came racing at her like a freight train.
“Oh, shit,” Cora said, tapping the comm button on her earpiece. “Call Gideon.”
He answered, his robotic voice sounding annoyed. “Yeah?”
“I just had a rather uncomfortable meeting with Lucius,” she said, getting into the elevator.
“He’s in Paris?”
“Yeah, we can get to that later. He said something that made me realize what we’re missing about this ninja. She’s looking for an artifact, but she can’t break into these museums herself.”
Gideon paused. “That makes sense. She’s only one person, there has to be a limit to what she’s capable of. Some of these museums Julian hit have security that would be a challenge even for me.”
“Get the word out to Julian and the rest of the team. If we want to catch her, we have to go for the artifact for real. Tonight we’re going to break into the Louvre.”
Beautification
According to Gideon, even with Julian’s limitless bank account, the best intel they gathered on Louvre security after hours came in the form of ‘I know a guy whose cousin...’ stories. Cora rolled her neck and stretched. The Apex camouflage bodysuit was skintight and hot. She always hated wearing these things. As long as she stayed still, however, the suit projected real-time images of the area around her, leaving her invisible to the naked eye. A magic bubble over her form cooled the air around her, rendering her invisible to thermographic detection, as well. She adjusted the goggles on her mask and tapped the comm button on her ear.
“Alpha team, breach on your word.”
From the roof of the Richelieu wing, Cora oversaw the glass pyramid that marked the main entrance in the courtyard. Somewhere below, Julian’s team hid near the enormous fountain, their own Apex suits keeping them from her view.
“Alpha-3,” Michael called in over her comm. “All units in position. You are go.”
“Affirmative. Going dark,” Cora double-tapped her comm button. “Computer, set timer for two minutes, forty-eight seconds. Also, play break-in mix.”
“Time begins now. Playing break-in mix,” her Arcadia assistant chimed back in a pleasant, friendly woman’s voice.
The vintage portable music player in her pocket, a relic from the 20’s, started her off with Sade telling her what a smooth operator she was. Cora found the whine of a saxophone kept her mind off the fact that she’d be killed on sight if she made a single mistake. Reaching over the stone banister, Cora’s hands and feet clung to the wall, the magic of the spider flowing through her. She already primed the window below her with a small plastic patch device that prevented the alarms from triggering. Still, she had no interest in blasting through like some thug on a smash-and-grab.
The window divided into four sections, the lowest two large enough to squeeze through. Cora pulled a pen-sized laser from the belt at her hip, each movement measured to avoid disrupting the Apex camouflage too much. With hundreds of cameras all around the museum, the artificial intelligence in the security office would alert the guards if it detected any telltale signs of a cloaking suit. Julian supplied her with the most bleeding-edge version Apex had, even more advanced than the one the NSA had her using only three months ago. She clicked the pen laser and traced around the edges of the window pane. As she rounded the final side, she pressed her fingers to the center of the glass and pushed forward with a feather touch. The glass remained stuck to her hand even as it left its home of well over a hundred years.
Cora stepped inside the museum’s top floor and set the glass beside the window. The first chorus played in her ear. That only left little more than a minute before her timer went off. She was running behind. Shutting her eyes, she grabbed hold of the ball of warm energy in her stomach with a thought. Sending it down to her feet, her soles tickled for a moment as the spell took hold. As she held the magic within her, a silent command went across the tethers in her chest. Vincent swooped in through the open window and took off down the hall, skimming near the ceiling where most cameras wouldn’t be looking for him.
Sprinting down the gleaming wooden floor, her feet didn’t make a sound as they struck. Her Apex suit, however, skittered and rippled as it struggled to compensate for the rapid movement. Anyone looking in her direction would notice the distortion, and the guards on duty were no slouches. Each of them were a part of the same PMC contracted by the French government and well-armed. The camera system’s AI would take a few moments to analyze what it was seeing before relaying it as a
warning. In twenty seconds, a guard would confirm it through a replay. Ten seconds after that, he’d hit the comm button implanted behind his ear and radio every person inside the museum to converge on her position.
Cora raced to the security office, a hidden room where the Richelieu wing met the museum proper at Sully. She hit the door at twenty-two seconds and pressed her gloved hand to the biometrics panel. The fingertips of her glove lit up as Gideon remotely transmitted a fingertip scan that would unlock the door. Within seconds, she grabbed the handle at the click of the lock and pushed in. Without having the internal layout, rotation schedule of the guards, or even the position of the computers in relation to the door, Cora expected she’d have to improvise as soon as she crossed the threshold.
As she opened the door, her other hand swung to her back and yanked out an AX-38 Taser pistol from her holster. The first guard came into view at a desk ten feet ahead. A klaxon chirped away on his holographic screen, trying to warn him of danger. His brow furrowed as she tried to understand why the door opened on its own. Cora already had him in her sights, pulling the trigger before he realized what was wrong. The muscles in his body tightened as he shook for a split second. The electrical surge overwhelmed him into unconsciousness. His forehead dropped onto his desk.
She could have reached out and touched the wall to her right as she entered the doorway. It was a relief, leaving only one angle to sweep from. Her eyes traced left, across the enormous room, the far end lined with dozens of small, interlocked holovid monitors, all capturing real-time 3D video from all over the museum. Two guards stood with their backs turned to her, checking on the glowing red flag blinking on the monitor of the hall she came from. She fired on one quick, adjusted aim, and took out the other.
By the time she realized there was a fourth man in the room, he was already coming at her full speed from her peripheral vision. He slammed into her like a truck, throwing her sideways against the wall. Rattled, she still had enough time to see the follow-up punch coming. She let her knees go limp, sliding down along the wall into a squat. She heard the crunch and pop of his fist, breaking bone as he collided full force against the reinforced wall. At waist-level with him, his groan would rise to a scream as the pain caught up with him. Too much noise, which in turn would bring too many guards. She said a silent apology and punched him in the groin with everything she had. She heard the air escape his lungs in a gasp, the only reflex she could count on every single time. He backed away a half-step, clutching himself before Cora laid a taser round into him to end the misery.
Vincent swooped in and landed on the first guard’s desk. Cora closed the door behind him.
“Caw,” he said, congratulating her.
Cora weaved around the desk and eased the unconscious guard out of his seat to the ground. She took his place at the computer station. A sudden beeping broke into her song, its pitch making her wince. She double-tapped the comm button on her earpiece.
“Computer, stop timer,” she said with a huff. “Open channel to Control.”
“You’re late,” Gideon said over the comm.
Cora pulled a receiver the size of her thumbnail from a pocket on her belt and placed it into a port on the computer’s base.
“Seconds, man, seconds,” Cora replied. “You’re in.”
“Accessing,” he said. “Alpha team, prepare for breach at primary entrance.”
“Alpha-1,” Julian chimed in. “Ready on your mark.”
Cora stroked her hand down Vincent’s back. “Ready to get back to work?”
“Caw,” he replied, disappointed.
Vaulting over the desk, she ran for the door. With the radio chatter gone, her playlist resumed full audio, dialing down the world around her until it felt more like a video game. Carly Nice rapped over a thumping beat about the mean streets of Detroit circa 2027, before it became the manufacturing capital of the United States. Throwing open the door, Vincent took off ahead of her to scout for guards on patrol.
The artifact was located on the floor below, where Julian’s team would rendezvous with her. She only hoped Michael was the crack shot he said he was. Any guard between their two paths that hit an alarm would bring every security detail in all of Paris down on them like locusts. She moved swift and certain, her every step muted by magic. She rounded the corner for the staircase to the floor below, and found Vincent lingering on the banister. She froze and wheeled back, ducking low.
“Comment un oiseau est entré ici?” a man’s voice called out, each word drawing him closer to her position.
“Caw,” Vincent called out. Cora couldn’t get a read off his cry. Perhaps he was holding out and knew French.
She waited until she could hear the fabric of the guard’s pants move. Spinning out from cover, she snapped a quick shot on the guard. His body convulsed a brief moment before tipping backwards, frozen in position like a statue. She grabbed him by the wrist, hoping there wasn’t enough charge left coursing through him to transfer to her. Like a dance, she pulled him in with a turn and dunked him, setting his rigid, unconscious body to the ground.
“Cameras are down,” Gideon said over the comm. “Working on the alarm system now.”
“Three tangos are down at pyramid,” Michael replied in a whisper. “Rendezvous with Alpha-3 in one minute, God willing.”
“Alpha-3 descending to first floor,” Cora whispered, creeping down the stairs.
Vincent swooped down to the floor below, checking for patrols. With each step down, Cora’s head was on a swivel, the Apex suit’s goggles scanning on the thermographic wavelength. No heat signatures were turning up anywhere near her. It was either a sign of great luck or grave misfortune. With only one guard at the major entrance to the second floor, something felt off. She couldn’t place it, other than a feeling in her gut. Lucius’ Project Ashes server room was guarded by six men per floor in a building that employed two hundred. The Louvre saw over ten million visitors a year.
“Guys, something is happening outside,” Gideon said. “Three black vans just rolled up and men are piling out in a hurry.”
“Lucius, you lying asshole,” Cora whispered to herself. She hopped over the banister, skipping the last ten steps. Careful needed to go out the window. The few guards in here were there to slow them down, not to put up any measure of resistance. She shook her head as she ran for the ground level. Michael said there were three tangos at the pyramid entrance. She should have known then. It should have been more than a dozen.
Vincent flew at top speed down the hall ahead of her, yet he did not stop. Not as much as a croak out of him the whole way down, Cora finally accepted the fact that there were no other guards she’d find.
“We have contact!” Julian shouted over the comm. “Bauer Securities at our six! What are they doing here, Control?”
Cora panted as she tried to cross the entire museum to play backup. No one on the team had a tenth of her experience with fighting the most elite PMC in the world. Gideon’s robotic voice came in over the comm, alarmed and confused.
“I’ve got nothing, Alpha-2,” Gideon said. “No comm traffic, no chatter on Undernet, no public contract, not even an ABP with the French police.”
“Alpha-3 en route to your position,” Cora said.
A gunshot echoed through the ancient halls. Then another, and again. Screaming in the distance, yelling and barking orders until the noise was so chaotic it drowned out everything else. Cora hit the stop button on her music player and ran to the voices.
“We’re being pinned in the lobby!” Michael shouted.
She was close enough that she heard his voice even without the comm. More gunfire ensued. Cora shoved her Taser pistol into the holster at her back. In its place, she grabbed out the Predator on her hip.
“We have a new problem!” Gideon shouted, his voice sounded frazzled with the number of issues he was juggling. “Alpha-3, a bolt of lightning just struck the roof near your insertion point!”
Cora froze, breaking her sprint. What
ever she chose next would shape the fate of this mission. If she went to break up Lucius’ surprise party, Julian’s team would be down another artifact, one of the last ones known to be in Paris. Doubling back to beat the ninja to it, though, would mean facing her alone. She shut her eyes and took a breath, reciting her mentor’s words.
Assess, calculate, breathe, and act, always in that order.
She spun on her heels and tore off for the stairs. She tapped the comm button her earpiece.
“Alpha-1, fight your way back out of pyramid,” she said. “I’m going for the prize.”
“Negative!” Julian replied, his commanding, regal tone enough to make her question the decision. “This had better not be a double-cross, Alpha-3.”
“You’re just going to have to trust me,” she said, closing the comm channel.
Up the stairs to the first floor. Turn left, enter the Richelieu wing. Down the hall, fourth exhibit on the right. She went over the plan in her head, reciting it. Her foot hit the top step. She wasn’t alone on the floor. Twenty feet ahead, mid-stride, the ninja stood staring at her approach. The flat, black visor in her helmet obscured any details of her face, and it was undoubtedly loaded with some kind of advanced HUD system to assist with combat.
Cora holstered her pistol and dropped her hand to her side. Her palm held position as though she gripped a ball. Orange particles of light coalesced and swirled around her hand, forming an orb. The ninja did not move, even as Cora stepped forward.
“Stand down!” Cora warned. “Do not make me use this!”
Gideon’s computer analysis of the ninja, based on surrounding scale, put the ninja at five feet, two inches. In person, she may have been shorter, but no less intimidating. She ran at Cora full speed. She had to be crazy or completely oblivious to what a magic-user’s Stunbomb would do to her. Cora cocked her head to the side and decided to show her. She whipped the ball at the ground beneath where she would be as it landed.
The orange orb shattered at her feet, a gale-force wind blew out of the shockwave a split-second later. The explosion of magical energy hit the ninja. Instead of blowing her backward or leaving her dazed, blue energy glowed and clung tight to her suit like a protective bubble. Lights blinked and flashed on her wired gauntlets. The light flickered like a strobe as it took the full concussive force of the blast. A spark burst from her wrist and the shield vanished with the last of Cora’s Stunbomb dissipated. She continued running for Cora without missing a step.
The Pendragon Codex Page 11