Demanski leaned forward and faced the others on the limo's long, U-shaped seat. "So how close are you to cracking this?"
"We don't know," Rachel said. "Each of these pieces contains a bit more of Peseshet's cure, plus a clue to the location of the next piece. My system has decoded some, but not all, of the pieces we've gathered."
"How do you know the cure even works? Our craziest new age treatments look absolutely sane and reasonable compared to a lot of the stuff that passed for medicine in those days."
"Yes, but some were right on target. Did you know that the pyramid workers were prescribed large quantities of garlic, onions, and radishes? For centuries no one knew why. Only in the early 1900s did we realize that an antibiotic, raphanin, could be extracted from radishes. And allicin and allistatin are now derived from onions and garlic. The Egyptians knew things that took over a millennium for us to rediscover."
Demanski nodded. "I can see that I'll have to play catch-up. Who wants to bring me up to speed?"
"Rachel and I will fill you in," Tavak said. "On the plane. We have a long flight ahead of us."
"Can't wait." He smiled at Allie. "Though I might prefer to have you do it. I haven't been called an asshole in a long time. It was an interesting experience. I'm already intrigued by our new association. This may prove to be better than an in-flight movie."
"What's that?" Rachel was staring out the window at a tall, white suspension bridge of stark, modernist design. Brilliantly illuminated, it featured a tall center span with cables splaying outward to each riverbank in a pattern that reminded her of a spiderweb.
"It's the Big Obukhovsky Bridge," Tavak said. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
"I don't know. I haven't made up my mind yet."
"It's the only nondrawbridge on the river," Demanski said. "Most cargo-boat traffic is scheduled for evenings, and I didn't want to get stuck waiting for one of the other bridges to open. We'll be on the plane in fifteen minutes."
Their caravan drove onto the bridge, which Rachel realized was actually two parallel structures, one for each direction of traffic.
They had traveled more than halfway across when a municipal T-bus suddenly pulled in front of the lead police car and slowed.
Tavak turned to peer out the front windshield. "What's the holdup?"
"Just a city bus," Demanski said.
Tavak studied it and then shook his head. "I don't like this."
Demanski took a second look at the bus. "What's the big deal?"
"All of its interior lights are turned off. The lights have been on in every other bus we've seen."
"You're right," Rachel said. "We can't see inside."
The bus slowed down even more.
Demanski called out to the driver. "Go around the bus. Now!"
The limo immediately changed lanes. Demanski opened the sun roof, stood, and motioned for the truck to do the same. The truck and the rear police escort moved to the left lane behind the limo.
"Flash your brights at the police car up ahead," Demanski instructed the driver. "We need to get away from this bus. And once we get past—"
The limo lurched to a stop, throwing them all from their seats. Rachel struggled to her knees and looked out the window. The bus had swerved and stopped, blocking all lanes of traffic.
"Shit!" Tavak pulled himself up and turned to Demanski. "I only have my Magnum. Do you have any other weapons?"
"No. Why should I? We have a police escort."
Tavak began to curse.
The bus's rear window shattered, and a long, dark barrel suddenly appeared through the hole in the glass.
"I think we're going to get your answer. They've got us beat," Tavak said.
The barrel flashed, and the lead police car exploded and flipped over. Fiery debris rained down on and around them.
"A rocket launcher," Demanski said in disbelief.
Rachel felt as if she couldn't breathe. "Dear God… "
Tavak threw open the passenger door. "Everybody get out! And hit the bridge running."
They scrambled out of the limo, leaping over piles of burning debris as they ran back past the other stopped cars.
Some of the drivers of those cars were screaming, but most merely stared ahead in shock. They were numb, Rachel realized. Just like she was. They couldn't believe this was happening.
Another low, sickening blast sounded behind her, and she turned just in time to see the limo explode. A burning tire rim flew from the wreckage and rolled past as if trying to race them from the carnage.
"Don't stop!" Tavak yelled. "Keep running!"
Rachel turned to Allie. Her sister's breathing was labored. "You okay?"
Allie nodded, not wasting breath to speak.
"We've got company," Demanski said grimly.
Rachel turned. About a dozen black-uniformed men charged from the bus, outfitted with Kevlar vests and automatic rifles.
Tavak rapped on the windshield of the other police car. The shaken officer was on his radio, but upon seeing the approaching gunmen, he dropped the microphone and drew his revolver. Tavak shook his head "no" and motioned for the officer to climb out and follow them behind the stopped cars. The policeman scrambled from the squad car.
They took cover behind a white panel van. "They're not interested in us," Tavak said. "They want what's in the truck."
He leaned toward the police officer and spoke in Russian. The officer nodded, and he and Tavak took aim with their handguns and fired several shots toward the truck.
"You didn't hit anyone!" Allie said.
"We didn't mean to. We blew out the tires on the truck and the bus."
As they watched, six of the gunmen climbed on top of the truck while six others swung out their rifles and covered them with a perimeter around it. The men on the truck quickly affixed a series of silver discs down the length of the roof and down the rear side.
"What are they doing?" Rachel asked. "Are they trying to destroy it?"
"No," Tavak said.
The men jumped off the truck, ran back fifteen feet, and the discs detonated. When the smoke cleared, Rachel saw that the rear compartment had been cleaved lengthwise in two. The gunmen were already throwing wire cabling over the jagged edges and peeling back the compartment shell. The metal siding groaned as it pulled away, revealing dozens of crated objects.
"Priceless," Demanski muttered. "Every last one of them."
"They only want one thing." Tavak tilted his head, listening. "What's that?"
A chopping, throbbing sound cut the air. Rachel looked up. At first there was nothing to see, but a spotlight suddenly appeared from a helicopter approaching the bridge.
Taking cover behind a car, Tavak and the officer opened fire. Rachel turned away as blood sprayed from two of the gunmen's foreheads. The others returned fire and took positions behind the truck and the limo's burning wreckage.
One of the wounded gunmen dropped a canvas bag. Several explosive discs rolled across the pavement, narrowly missing a pool of burning fuel from the limo explosion.
"Stay here," Tavak told Rachel. He, the police officer, and Demanski weaved through the burning wreckage to take positions closer to the truck.
Rachel felt the helicopter rotor pounding in her chest as it came closer. The engine noise overwhelmed her as the blades kicked up a fierce, howling wind.
The helicopter moved directly over the truck and dropped several lines. As the gunmen moved toward them, Tavak and the police officer pushed them back with a barrage of gunfire.