The Pandora Chronicles - Book 1 (A Scifi Adventure Thriller) (16 page)

“Don’t worry, it’s very simple,” she said with a wink. “What could go wrong?”

Nick smiled and shrugged out of her grip.

“I guess we’ll find out,” he muttered, as he walked away.

Chapter 23

The mask irritated Nick to no end. He kept fidgeting with it, somehow making it even more uncomfortable than before. Locksmith walked next to him, wearing an Armani suit and an equally ostentatious mask, and smirked at the archaeologist.

“What are you smiling at?” Nick muttered. “You look like an extra from Rocky Horror.”
 

Locksmith said nothing, but raised his champagne glass and he flipped him the bird with his other hand.

“Play nice, boys,” the woman’s voice crackled through the Bluetooth earpiece in Nick’s ear.

Before exiting the barge, Circuits had outfitted them with an earpiece each, while he stayed on the boat not far from where the party was being held and hacked into the mansion’s mainframe.
 

The entire team was impeccably dressed and wore a traditional Venusian mask. They were issued with an invitation and entered separately. The Italian couple were the first to enter, instantly attracting everyone’s attention.

Nick and Locksmith were forced to stick together, much to their chagrin. The old man made his dislike of Nick clear. Or maybe it could be the old age and a lifetime of looking over his shoulder.
 

That would make anyone cranky.

“Whatever,” Nick said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit,” Locksmith said.

“Just shut up and lead the way,” Nick replied. “Circuits, are we clear? Distraction, you guys set?”

“We are fine over here,” the woman replied. Nick observed the couple from his peripheral vision, and the disturbingly attractive man gave him a nod before joining his equally attractive female companion in an animated chat with some very important-looking people.

Locksmith put his champagne glass away and motioned Nick to follow him.
Just like a scene from Pink Panther
, Nick mused as he followed the old Australian to a less populated room.
 

Once they were completely alone, Nick tore off his ridiculous mask and stuffed it into the jacket of his suit. He hated dressing up like that. Give him a t-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket any day over the uncomfortable monkey suit.

“Second door to the right, gentlemen,” Circuits’s voice crackled through Nick’s earpiece. “I’m disabling the security feed and booting up the loop video. Locksmith, it’s up to you now.”

The two men followed the directions and stopped in front of a thick, ornate, oak door. Locksmith extracted a pouch from his inner pocket. It looked like a first-aid kit, but was instead full of miniature lock picks. He extracted a small, spoon-shaped one with a flat, reflective circle at the end, like the kind dentists use to check around the tooth, and slid it under the door.

“Tripwires,” he grunted by means as an explanation. Satisfied, he put away his tool and instead took out a couple of standard lock picks.

“If there is one thing these aristocratic slime balls love,” Locksmith said as he pried the door’s keyhole, “it’s their antiques.”

The door clicked open, and the pair quickly shuffled inside.
 

The room they found themselves in was a vast collection of paintings and literature, most of it original.

“You got that right,” Nick said, as he ran over to a shelf. His curiosity got the better of him and he ran his fingers over a stack of paper. His eyes widened as he read the title.

“What is that?” Locksmith asked.

“An original draft of Mary Shelley’s
Frankenstein
,” Nick replied, almost reverently.

“The monster book?”

“Yeah. This thing was auctioned off a few years ago. In the right market, this could be worth hundreds of thousands.” Nick looked around, wondering what other treasures he might stumble upon. “There must be at least four or five million bucks worth of stuff in this room.”

A sly smile appeared on Locksmith’s face. “Yeah, now this is more like it. How much do you think you can stuff in your pocket?”

Nick put the manuscript back in its place. “We are not taking anything. Let’s just find what we’re looking for and get out.”

“And what would that be, Professor?” the Australian asked.
 

Nick extracted his phone and tapped the screen, until he found the picture of the red ledger that Astrid had sent him.

“Another bloody book,” Locksmith complained.

“Just spread out and find it,” Nick said.

“Don’t boss me around, kid.”

“Hey, guys.” Circuits’s voice came through their earpieces, interrupting their cat fight. “You’ve only got a ten minute window, of which you already wasted three. Seven minutes and the alarms go back online.”

Locksmith glowered at Nick one final time and walked away. Nick took the other direction, looking amidst works of art and antiques, each one more valuable than the next.

“Oy. Over here,” he heard Locksmith loudly whisper. Nick hurried over to the source of the sound and saw the man standing next to a glass display.

Inside, was a thick ledger bound in red leather. The cover was heavily stained, clear proof of the book’s many voyages. The parchment inside was faded and yellowed, but there were pages that were clearly less ancient than the rest. Nick guessed those were later additions to the red book.

On the cover was an imprint, the same one as the coins in Astrid’s collection: several men praying to a multi-headed, multi-limbed deity, standing in the upper center like the sun. The image of the monstrosity burned itself into Nick’s eyes until he was completely absorbed by it. Background sounds and other senses were blocked out, and all he could do was stare at the creature’s multiple visages. Something stirred inside his head. He suddenly felt singled out, as if he had a spotlight on him.

“Oy, Professor.” Locksmith was doing his best not to let his voice carry as he shook Nick violently and whispered loudly in his ear.
 

Nick shook out of his daze and blinked awkwardly. “What the hell-?”

“You spazzed out on me,” Locksmith hoarsely whispered. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Nick said. “Blood pressure or something.”

Locksmith shook his head. “You kids these days. Can’t even handle a simple heist without fainting.”

“Just get the case open, all right?” Nick rubbed his forehead. What on Earth just happened to him?

Locksmith deftly opened the glass case and handed the book over to Nick.

“Careful, Professor. It’s heavy,” he mocked.

Nick ignored him and examined the book. It was locked on the side with some sort of brass clasp, which meant Locksmith’s job wasn’t over just yet. Nick couldn’t properly authenticate it without examining its contents. However, the connection he felt to the image on the cover was proof enough that whatever secrets this ledger contained were not entirely of this world.

“It’s the real thing,” Nick said over the earpiece and turning to Locksmith. “I just need you to get this thing open-”

He never finished his sentence. Alarms and sirens suddenly went off, their screech hitting Nick in the pit of his stomach. Beyond the sounds of the alarms, he heard the panic downstairs.

“What in the blazes is going on?” Locksmith yelled. He pressed his Bluetooth earpiece. “Circuits, what happened to our ten minutes?”

“They must have overridden the program somehow,” Circuits replied, his voice barely containing his panic. “Get out of there, now! If no one is back on the boat in an hour, I’m leaving.”

“Wait, Circuits,” Locksmith shouted. “Don’t you bloody dare leave us behind.”

But the earpieces were now dead and the only voices came from across the corridor, on the other side of the door.

“
Fermateli! (Stop them!)
”

Nick heard gunfire and bullets tore through the wooden door. He pulled Locksmith behind a shelf for cover and saw blood trickling from the old man’s shoulder. Nick toppled the bookcase over, blocking the door.

“I’m all right. Just a scratch,” Locksmith said. More shots rang against the door, and the angry voice who issued the order was yelling for them to stop firing.

Nick looked around for an escape route. “‘What could go wrong?’” he said in a high pitched voice, repeating what the beautiful woman had told him on the boathouse. “She had to jinx this, didn’t she?”

Chapter 24

“
Aprite questa meledetta porta! (Open this damn door!)”
 

Whoever was behind the door stopped yelling long enough to issue an order and Nick heard them hacking at the door with something sharp and heavy.
A fire axe
, he guessed.

“Hello? Are you still there?” The woman’s voice echoed through his earpiece.

“Yeah, but we’re trapped inside,” Nick replied.

“They are ushering all the guests outside. We have to follow them out too, or risk blowing our cover.”

“Head back to the boathouse,” Nick instructed. “Wait for us there. Locksmith is gonna join you soon.”

“What about you?” the Australian asked.

“I’ll distract them,” Nick replied as he scanned the room.

“This guy must have a way to transport items up here,” he said, thinking out loud. Finally, he saw a freight lift and directed Locksmith towards it. “Get in here and rendezvous with Distraction.”

“What about the book?”

“Book stays with me. That way, you guys don’t leave me behind. Now, bon voyage,” Nick said, as he closed the doors of the freight lift.
 

The gunmen on the other side were almost through, with the door nearly in shreds, but Nick was ready for them. He grabbed a fire extinguisher and the
Frankenstein
manuscript.

“Sorry, Shelley. It’s for a good cause.”
 

He tore up the pages and stuffed them inside the wide funnel of the fire extinguisher. Then, he spun, waited for a hole big enough to appear on the door, thrust in the funnel, and sprayed.

The pages shot out everywhere with a blast of foam behind them. Nick barreled past the group of armed thugs, and sprayed more foam in their direction. The smoke screen covered his tracks. He shoved the heavy fire extinguisher at a gunman and threw him backwards, before dropping his impromptu weapon. Like a scared rabbit, he bolted along the corridor. A bullet ricocheted very close to him but they were still blind.

Nick reached inside his belt and unbound a stack of vinyl records he had tied together. Mozart, Bach, Aretha Franklin, and Ray Charles—they all sailed like Frisbees, providing an ulterior target other than Nick. The gunmen opened fire, shattering the records, while Guillermo Del Sacco screamed.

“
Ammazzatelo! (Kill him!)”
 

Nick didn’t need a dictionary to understand that.

He ran up the fire escape, sending any other fire extinguisher along the way tumbling behind him. As he exited on the third floor, he heard the goons ascend the stairs. He called up the elevator and got in, pressing the button for the topmost level, one floor above.

As the elevator finished its journey, he climbed through the hatch on top of the elevator and supported himself with the cables. He found the manual lever for the brakes and pulled, locking the elevator in place. This way, he would slow the enemy down and cut off reinforcements.

Gritting his teeth, he looked up. There was another floor which led to the roof and he saw small maintenance ladder which led to a small door.
 

Nick grabbed the thick hydraulic cable and began climbing up the elevator shaft. His muscles ached; it had been a while since he had gone to the gym. He climbed past where the ladder was. No way could he jump horizontally that far or from the position he was in, dangling in the air. Instead, he made it all the way up to the top and released his legs. Slowly, he brought his feet against the steely rope and pushed. For a while, he sailed horizontally, before descending at an angle.

The ladder got closer and closer, until he crashed into the metal rungs and clung to them for dear life. His whole body jarred with the impact, and his shoulder muscles screamed in agony. He ignored the pain and climbed the ladder. The door required a thrust of his shoulder, but it swung open, leading Nick into a maintenance room. Finally, he made his way outside onto the roof and was greeted by the cool evening air.

“
Eccholo. (There he is.)”
 

Two guards spotted him and trailed his movements with bullets. Nick bolted, running for his life, until he got to the edge.

The one thing that fascinated Nick about Venice, other than its polluted canals or many old buildings, was the household architecture. His mind recalled the conjoined rooftops he had seen while absent-mindedly looking at
 
buildings on his way here, and now that little kernel of information was about to save his life.

He kept on running and leaped over. Sure enough, a lower roof was there to meet him, and he rolled to break his fall. His stunt gave him more distance, but the two gunmen gave chase nonetheless. He could see two bright spots of light from the LED flashlights attached to the front of their firearms. More gunshots rang and Nick realized that the goons were trying to box him into a corner.