Behind him, Scott heard heavy footfalls and shouting. The rapid, full force response wasn’t unexpected with the high alert status, but he had no time to explain anything that was happening to anyone.
“Edie, speak to me,” he said, switching the headset to voice-activated mode. “I really need you. Edie?”
He spun a tight circle, but couldn’t find Alexis in the agitated crowd. As he scanned, he saw the President of Sri Lanka, the Prime Minister of Singapore and other dignitaries. The faces he saw told him clearly where he was. He’d stumbled into the afternoon black tie event. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that the Crypt of the Grand Masters was secretly connected to the Palace of the Grand Master, also known as the President’s Palace. By the time his gaze landed on a bearded David Owen Blake less than twenty yards away, he knew Alexis’s sudden fall had been a staged distraction.
“Blake, David Owen Blake is here, the President’s Palace,” he said, his head swiveling to the right where Alexis Gosling was crouched down, rolling hissing canisters across the floor and then pulling a submachine gun from her shoulder bag. An instant later, the gun was spitting bullets as she turned a wide arc.
Bodies fell; terrified screams filled the room. People trampled each other as everyone fought to get away. Scott ripped his gun from its holster, fired twice in rapid succession. Both bullets struck the mark and Alexis slumped over, her head lolling to one side.
Scott’s head swiveled around, his eyes going to where Blake had been standing, just as he was tackled by two men in dark suits. He saw nothing afterward but the floor rushing up to meet him. “Agent Scott Evers,” he shouted or tried to, as the side of his face was crushed into the cold marble surface beneath him by a knee and the gun was pried out of his hand.
Chapter 13
Rough hands picked Scott up off the ground and twisted him around. His thoughts swam and his ears rang, but he managed to find his footing.
“Get off him. He’s one of us,” Scott heard Edie say. To the men at her side, she said, “Lock the scene down. Only medical support staff and security in or out. Get the VIPs to the pre-selected safe houses.”
Scott felt his face flush as a realization hit him. “Get hazmat. Don’t let a soul leave,” he shouted. “Everyone stays. The British Prime Minister. Everyone! Understood?”
Edie’s eyes told him she didn’t understand but he heard her relay the message just the same. “Scott, talk to me,” she said, pulling him away.
Scott stared into the ballroom, his eyes searching. “It’s all a staged distraction. The bomb, the attack just now, everything. It’s all meant to draw our eyes away from what’s really happening.”
He spun left then right, his gaze landing on the exit doors in the far corner.
Edie pulled at him. “Talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking. I can’t just—”
“The virus. It’s here. We’re too late,” he said. “They’ve already released it. We’re the delivery vehicle for the world.”
He heard the shock in Edie’s voice as she gave orders to her team through the headset. Something about hazmat, biocontainment, omega protocol.
He raced off to the exit and burst out into a back hall. Continuing through and down the hall, he came to another set of doors. Opening the doors caused a proximate alarm to sound and beyond he saw the rear courtyard of the palace.
Stepping outside brought the response of a lone guard and Scott drew down on him. “Gun, two fingers, slowly.”
The guard removed his weapon as instructed.
“Toss it,” Scott said.
“Scott, what are you doing?” Edie said, coming up behind him.
Scott raised his injured hand and waved her around. To the guard, he said, “A man came through here.” It was a statement, not a question. “You let him through. Where did he go?”
The guard pointed to a rear gate in the high brick wall of the courtyard. “Take him down,” Scott shouted to Edie as he hurried off.
He’d taken only two steps when he heard the guard hit the ground with a resonant thud. This was followed by the distinctive clicks of zip tie cuffs being pulled into place.
“I’m an expert shot. Move and you get a bullet,” Edie shouted. Then to those listening on headsets, she said, “Rear courtyard. Suspected accomplice restrained. In foot pursuit of David Owen Blake. All teams respond. Lock down, two-block radius. Situation omega, repeat omega.”
The sound of tires screeching to a halt drew Scott’s gaze. He saw Blake, already half a block away, darting through traffic and nearly being crushed by a speeding car. Blake was headed for the harbor.
“Scott, you sure about this?” Edie said over the headset.
“Beyond a doubt,” he said. “Got Blake in my sights, running southeast toward the waterfront.”
Scott sprinted across the street. The harbor was only two blocks away. From his vantage point atop the hill, he could see it in the distance, in the space between the buildings. With the afternoon sun behind him, there were long shadows all around him, but the blue of the sea was unmistakable and it drew him along until he continued down the hill where it was lost to him behind buildings built near the waterfront.
For a few seconds, he was alone, gun in hand, weaving his way along past shops and eateries with tables out front for customers. “Polizia di Stato,” he shouted at worried onlookers as their puzzled shouts rose around him.
Soon Scott heard the heavy patter of Edie’s bare footfalls, closing the distance between them. That she’d taken off her sandals to run didn’t surprise him. He was amazed she could run at all in the sleek, formal black dress she was wearing.
He vaulted across an intersection, barely remembering to look for oncoming cars. Although Scott could still see him, Blake was a long way ahead, nearly to the buildings fronting the water. As a blue Renault Mégane Coupé started to pull out of parking spot in front of him, Scott slammed his fists into the hood, drawing the ire of the owner, who jumped out of her car and started shouting.
“Mi dispiace,” Scott said to the woman. In the time it took him to turn his head and apologize, Edie caught up to him and was at his side.
“Always were a real charmer, Evers,” Edie said.
“Polizia di Stato,” Scott said, stepping around the woman and getting into the driver’s seat despite her protestations. The gun in his hand ensured she kept her distance. As he brought the Renault around, scraping past other cars, the woman crumpled onto her haunches in a fit of hysteria and tears.
“Your emergency money,” Scott said to Edie, “Toss it out the window.”
Edie turned up empty hands. As he glanced over at her, Scott noticed the only things she carried were her shoes and her handgun. He also noted the split in her skirt that went all the way up to her hip.
“Had to be done,” she said.
“I can see that,” he said, launching the sleek coupe down the street by stomping on the gas. He saw Blake far ahead, running even faster than before, no doubt having seen Scott and Edie get into the car.
“What are you thinking, Scott?” Edie said. “I need to know. Command over secure connect is screaming in my ears. I need to tell them something. Dignitaries are already threatening to have their security break through the lockdown unless they’re told what exactly is going on.”
Scott squeezed the leather-wrapped steering wheel. “I’m sure your cover scenarios will hold a few minutes more. Tell them anything they need to hear…” His voice trailed off as he came up on a quick turn.
“Except the truth,” Edie said into the silence.