The Circle of Eight (14 page)

“Keep
your head down, princess,” he said to Jenny. “Crawl on the floor like a snake,
okay?”

The little
girl dropped to her belly and pushed herself with her elbows. As they cleared
the pew Red reached forward and grabbed Jenny by the blouse, yanking her forward,
then pointing to the door they had come through.

“Go
toward the door, just the way you’re doing it.”

Another
shot tore into the floor about five feet away. Outside shouting could be heard
as the police assembled tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Overseer,
Bravo One, we’re taking fire from a sniper, over.”

“Bravo
One, we’re trying to pinpoint him now, over.”

“He’s
got a bead on us through the south side window. Look for him south of our
position, less than a mile, then phone it in to the locals outside, over.”

“Roger
that, Bravo One.”

He
stepped forward on his haunches, his upper body lowered over his sister to
protect her and his own head as he inched forward, his thighs burning with the
effort as the parishioners crawled for the door and hopefully safety, Red
guiding them along. These were all elderly people, people who had been through
hell, people whose joints and muscles were no longer meant for this level of
exertion.

But none
said a word of complaint, and it wasn’t until several minutes of crawling that
he realized three of the men had intentionally positioned themselves between
his sister and the window, providing cover for her with their own bodies. He
met the eyes of one of the men, his expression grim, and gave him a nod of
gratitude, the man returning an expression that immediately told him he was
dealing with a vet.

They
reached the altar at the front of the church and another shot rang out,
blasting apart one of the pews behind them.

“He’s
got no angle, BD!” yelled Red, standing by the altar, pulling up the people as
they reached him.

“Let’s
go!” yelled Dawson as he pushed to his full height, every muscle in his body
screaming for relief as he sprinted the final few paces toward the door. He
burst through it, little Jenny standing on the other side rushing forward and
hugging his leg. He placed his sister on the floor and examined their
surroundings. Where they were assembled had no windows so they should be safe,
but his sister was pale, far too much blood having been lost. He knew she only
had minutes before she would die without a paramedic.

“Bravo
One, Overseer, we’ve got him located. He’s in a grove of trees south-east of
your position, on the move. Locals have been informed but they’re taking their
sweet time responding, they’re just taking cover, over.”

“We’ll
take care of it. Tell them to get paramedics inside now, over!” He turned to
his sister. “I’ll be back.”

“I
know.”

Dawson
sprinted for the rear entrance, Red hot on his heels. Reaching the door to the
outside, Dawson activated his comm.

“Overseer,
report!”

“Still
on the move, now swinging south-west of your position, advancing. Locals are
starting to redeploy as we update them, over.”

“Roger.”

He
pushed open the door then rushed for the trees, taking a knee behind the thick
trunk of one of them. If he were the sniper, he would take the same route as he
and Red had taken earlier. He couldn’t spot him, the tree cover and fences
blocking the view, but if they acted quickly, they could get the drop on him.
He turned to Red, pointing at a large building south of the church.

“Let’s
end this thing. You take position at the three-four corner there, I’ll hold
this position. Whoever gets the shot, takes it. I want him alive though.”

Red
nodded then sprinted toward the corner, taking cover, the cop covering the
south side of the church long gone. Dawson watched several police cars pulling
away, racing toward the road their SUV was parked on.

“Overseer,
report.”

“We’ve
got you and Red in view now. He’s coming right toward you, hundred yards. You
should see him when he clears the next fence, over.”

Dawson
shifted farther behind the trunk and into the shadows, only a slight bit of his
profile showing as he waited for his target to come into sight. Suddenly a head
leapt into sight as a pair of hands grabbed the top of the fence and a set of
very fit legs swung over in a smooth motion. The man’s feet hit the ground and
his MAC 10 was at the ready nearly instantly.

This
guy’s a pro.

The man
advanced cautiously, but blindly, the eye in the sky not helping him. Suddenly
he raised his weapon and fired at the very corner Red was behind causing
Dawson’s friend to leap backward as the man’s weapon swung toward Dawson. He
could feel the tree vibrate as the trunk was torn apart by perfectly placed
shots.

Dawson
held his position then noticed the sound changing as the man repositioned
toward the building Red was using for cover. Shifting to the left, Dawson tried
to maintain the angle between him and the shooter so the trunk would continue
to protect him.

He
knows exactly where we are.

“Overseer,
he’s got a spotter somewhere, over!”

Dawson
glanced over his shoulder and saw Red falling back, taking up position behind a
large HVAC unit attached to the building. The bullets stopped slamming into the
tree and Dawson took the time to flip around so his stomach was now against the
trunk, then switched his Glock to his left hand. He poked his head out just as
the gunfire resumed, the man having reloaded quickly.

This
guy is definitely Special Forces trained.

Dawson
got a bead on where the man was heading by the sound of his shots, the shooter
angling toward the same line of trees Dawson was using as cover, increasing the
angle he would have to engage Red with.

“Red,
get ready. He’ll be in your sights any moment.”

He
watched Red take a knee, poking out from behind the metal HVAC unit.

“Don’t
worry about taking him alive. Just take him,” added Dawson.

“Roger
that.”

A shot
every couple of seconds continued to slam Dawson’s position, keeping him pinned
down and helpless to return fire.

“Got
him.”

Red
opened fire, rapidly emptying his clip at the target as Dawson jumped out into
the grass, rolling and firing at the same time, coming to rest with a clean
shot.

He
squeezed.

The man
dropped to his knees, then forward onto his face. Red rushed him as did Dawson.
Red, arriving first, disarmed the man just in case he wasn’t as dead as they
assumed, then Dawson quickly began to search his body for anything that might be
of use. He found nothing but a cellphone. He stuffed it in his pocket just as
several police officers rushed their position, weapons raised.

“Freeze!”
yelled the first. “Don’t move a muscle or you’re dead!”

Dawson
lowered his left hand to the ground, placing his weapon on the grass, then
slowly raised his hands, clasping them on top of his head, Red doing the same.

“Is
there a Detective Lewis with you?” asked Dawson.

“I’m
Lewis,” said a voice Dawson recognized from the phone conversations he’d had. “Are
you Dawson?”

Dawson
nodded.

“I think
you have some explaining to do.”

St. Paul’s University, St. Paul, Maryland

Niner’s phone rang and he answered it, walking away from the two
professors and Jimmy. Laura’s heart was pounding a little harder than normal
now that she had been brought up to speed on what was happening. And once again
she knew they were going to get caught up in something as usual.
What is it
about us?
She had thought about it once and realized it wasn’t her and
James that were the problem. It was the people they had met during the incident
with the Triarii and the crystal skulls.

They
were the ones attacked, and in the process met their now friends from Scotland
Yard, DCI Reading and DI Chaney. Her mind flashed to Chaney, still in a coma,
wondering if he’d ever come out.

And
what was his message?

They had
also met these Delta Force soldiers and the rest of their unit, under orders to
kill them, being told they were on a termination list of terrorists. It wasn’t
until after they realized what had been happening and how they had been
manipulated that these men had become their closest allies over the years,
going out of their way to help them when needed, in their minds perhaps atoning
for the horrors they had committed during that mission.

The
Brass Monkey incident she certainly couldn’t blame on Scotland Yard or the
Delta Force, but they had dragged James into it, albeit willingly when he found
out what had happened to her.
The Broken Dove incident was pure Chaney!
Same
with that Templar relic
. Now China, that was nobody’s fault.
We were on
vacation!
Same with Egypt, though it was a dig.

She
sighed.

Maybe it
wasn’t always someone else’s fault. Maybe they were cursed to live this life.

And she
had to admit it was thrilling every time it was over, but terrifying while it
went on. She sometimes debated whether or not she would rather lead the nice,
simple life she had before—a mega-millionaire archeologist teaching eager
students and funding various digs around the world—or her current lifestyle,
which was much the same, except for the number of bullets, grenades, fighter
jets and tanks.

And
nuclear weapons.

And
James.

If it
weren’t for all this, they never would have even met.

And she
loved him with all her heart, more each and every day. She had popped in on a
private jet a few days ago to surprise him, their dig in Egypt put on hold due
to the upheaval there. And they had celebrated.

She
tingled.

“And
what do you intend to do about it?” asked Acton.

“We’ve
been suspended and are all on vacation,” replied Jimmy.

Laura
smiled slightly.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning
we’re going hunting.”

Laura
bit her lip then looked at her fiancé.

“And
what do
you
intend to do about it?”

“Well, I
was thinking of going with them to help. Just in case they need my advice on
anything else that might help track down where the Rosicrucians have been
hiding.”

Laura
shook her head. She knew James. Knew him far too well. He was a fabulous
archeologist, fabulous teacher, fabulous fiancé, and he had a penchant for
doing the right thing, even if it meant risking his own life to save others’,
including her own.

And she
knew there’d be no talking him out of it, because he secretly loved the
adrenaline rush the action brought.

The
professor in her also understood the intellectual intrigue. To find the
Rosicrucians, to prove they still existed, would be incredible. But once found?

“So
you’re going to kill them?” she said, turning to Jimmy.

“Yes.”

“All of
them?”

“I’m
thinking just the head is all that’s necessary. Those eight doctors you
mentioned might be a good place to start.”

Niner
returned.

“BD’s
sister’s family is secure. He wants us to join Spock and his team and head to
Geneva.” He turned to James. “Are you coming?”

James
nodded.

“Yes.”

“And so
am I,” said Laura. She expected objections perhaps from the Delta team, but she
knew her love wouldn’t bother. It was an argument he would never win.

“Happy
to have you aboard,” said Niner, “I’ve seen you shoot. This should hopefully be
a little tamer than China was.”

“God I
hope so,” said Laura and she felt James take her hand and squeeze.

Köln, Germany

1472 AD

“Do you require time, or are we finished with this evening’s
business?”

Dietrich stood in his master’s chambers, his head bowed,
his eyes almost closed, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, and though
he knew it was impossible, he could still feel Heike’s soft fingers between
his.
This evening’s business?
Is that all it was to him? A little bit of
business? The death of an innocent woman whose only crime was to love a man in The
Order?

His blood boiled.

“No, it’s over,” he replied, his voice calm, cold, his
emotions held in check by the knowledge there was nothing he could do to bring
her back.

“Excellent.” His master stood from the chair he had been
occupying, his arm extending, quickly finding its way across Dietrich’s
shoulders. “I have tremendous news.”

“What news, my master?”

The hint of excitement in his master’s voice had him
intrigued. He was usually devoid of most emotions, as were most in The Order
that he had met that weren’t young like him. Those who had been in for decades
like his master seemed strangely subdued. It was as if emotion were the enemy,
something to be purged from your soul so you could function better, could
understand the forgotten sciences better and fulfill the goals of The Order to
one’s fullest potential.

“We have been bestowed a great honor,” said his master
as he led his apprentice down a hall toward the stairs that led to the
basement, and an area all were forbidden to enter except for he and his master.
His master produced a key from around his neck and unlocked the door, then,
taking a lantern from the outside wall, he descended the stairs into the
darkness, the sole light the flickering flame from within its glass enclosure.

Dietrich followed, trying to keep within the circle of
light so he could maintain his footing on the tight stairs. A sigh of relief
escaped his lips as he felt the floor under his feet. His master struck a flint
hammer to his right, igniting a thin trail of black powder that ringed the
basement. As the trail burned along its route, various torches sprung to life,
and within minutes the entire basement was bathed in light.