“Never?” Hal pressed. He was too far away to kick.
“No. The AMNH claims that the truck made it across during the June Shutdown but never arrived in Oakland.”
“There was that gunfight on Veterans Bridge.” Nigel pointed out, edging toward the door. “The truck could have been caught up in that.”
“Did you file a missing person report?” Hal asked.
“Hal,” Jane growled warning. She was outnumbered and outgunned.
“We’re closing now,” the director said. “Give me all your cards and leave.”
“We’re leaving.” Oni or not, Jane was not going to let this woman hamstring them. “We weren’t obligated to give you the first one. If needed, we will take this to the police. The television stations operate under the United States constitutional right of freedom of the press.” She only had to use this defense once before. It was a legally shaky ground since much of Pittsburgh was under United Nations control. The EIA usually defaulted to the City of Pittsburgh in terms of the media. At the moment, Jane was willing to run the risk that the EIA sided with the director. “We cooperated in a manner that should have been acceptable. We will not be further hampered by unjust demands.”
Lefèvre flicked her hand toward Taggart. “Search him.”
Taggart swung his camera out to the side even as Nigel stepped back and intercepted it. “Okay, okay, you can search me!”
Taggart and Nigel were tag teaming with the camera, so Taggart had picked up on whatever Jane was missing. Then Jane realized what she was looking at. Lefèvre’s bracelet was the missing lapis prayer beads with a small ironwood miniature prayer wheel.
Nigel had recognized the jewelry. He knew that the woman was lying about the curator from New York. Sparrow had spoken French when she planned the murder of Windwolf. Lefèvre’s French name wasn’t accidental. Nigel must suspect that the female was an oni greater blood and that she killed the curator. He was trying to get them out of the museum as quickly as possible.
“I keep a spare in my breast pocket.” Taggart said as the guard roughly searched his pants pockets. “It’s blank.”
The guard ripped Taggart’s shirt taking the memory card out.
Jane clenched her fist. What should she do? She didn’t want them to take the card; it might be the real recording if Taggart switched the two. He’d been recording continuously for nearly a half hour. They could have talked about Boo or Yumiko or the box. She couldn’t fight six men without danger of her crew being hurt. Their lives weren’t worth a memory card. If it was actually blank and she folded now, she’d make Lefèvre suspicious of their real objective.
“Two men vanish off the face of the planet,” Hal continued. “Carrying irreplaceable items that you’re ultimately responsible for, and you don’t file a missing person report?”
Lefèvre huffed with impatience. “I was only told some items were on a truck and would arrive in June. How can I report someone without knowing who they were?”
Jane stepped back to kick Hal.
“Ow!” Hal cried. “What? She knew what was on the truck. She could have filed a report saying that the truck was missing with two men, an ironwood box, and some jewelry…” Hal finally recognized the bracelet. “Shit.”
“Box?” Lefèvre echoed.
The AMNH had thought the block of wood was solid. Hal shouldn’t know that the item shipped was a box.
Lefèvre pointed at Jane. “Kill them.”
Jane shut down her normal moral rationale. All that mattered was saving her people. First target was to eliminate chain of command. She shot at Lefèvre but the bullet hit one of the guards leaping forward. He roared in pain and rushed Jane. She spun with the impact, trying to throw him. He took her down with him and they hit the marble floor hard together.
“Fire in the hole!” Hal shouted.
“Hal!” Jane shouted as she realized that he had succeeded at smuggling sticks of dynamite into the museum. She rolled to put the guard between her and the dynamite.
The explosion in the confined space was deafening. The noise echoed through the halls.
The blast force struck the guard grappling her in the back. He loosened his hold. She twisted away from him and shot him in the head.
She scrambled to her feet, shooting the nearest guard as she took in the battlefield. The blast had effectively confused the oni for vital seconds. The guards didn’t seem to know what had just happened; sticks of dynamite weren’t common weapons. The oni apparently hadn’t seen Hal drop it into their midst, they scanned everywhere for the source of the explosion. Lefèvre didn’t understand basic sniper tactics, she was merely using her guards as cover instead of seeking shelter.
“Hal! Truck!” Jane shot the guard directly in front of Lefèvre.
“Going!” Hal took off running, haring through the maze.
“Nigel! Taggart! Follow him!” She shot Lefèvre in the chest.
“Jane!” Taggart hesitated.
“Now!” Jane shouted. At the moment, she had the guards’ focus because she was the only one with an openly displayed weapon. That would change the moment their confusion wore off.
Taggart took off. She emptied her magazine, sending the remaining three guards ducking for cover.
She followed her team, bullets whining around her as she raced through the maze. Weaving back and forth through the skeletons of dinosaurs. Around the massive globe of the Earth, bullets cratering the North American hemisphere. Past the darkened gift shop; most of the innocent employees had left for the day. At the grand three story staircase, Jane slid sideways on the marble, trying to make the tight turn. Down the hallway, Hal came rebounding through the revolving doors.
“Bad guys!” He shouted and darted through the door into the Hall of Architecture.
“Not that way!” Jane called after him. “That’s a dead end!”
Nigel and Taggart slid to a halt, unsure if they should follow Hal or wait for Jane.
“There’s a secret door!” Hal shouted. “It leads to the library! Only staff are supposed to use it! The library is open until eight!”
How did Hal know that?
Jane hit the end of the hallway. More armed guards were coming through the revolving door, slowed down by the inherit design of the doors. She turned into the Hall of Architecture. Sunlight poured through the glass ceiling. It was huge room scattered with massive facades, tall columns, plaster casts of famous marble statues and a miniature replica of some Greek temple. It offered dozens of hiding places in deep shadows that her team apparently took advantage of. She couldn’t spot them.
“Jane!” A chorus of loud whispers came from the back corner behind ninety-foot long replica of the façade of Saint Giles du Gard.
She ran toward the corner. Two lit sticks of dynamite tumbled past as the sound of boot steps grew louder behind her.
“Jesus Christ, Hal!” Jane swore, running faster. “It’s a museum!”
The two loud explosions were followed by screams and the rumble of architecture collapsing and falling.
“Oh! Oh! God! Hal!” Jane ducked behind the stone column holding up the roof. She swapped her empty magazine for a fresh one.
Her team crouched at the feet of the Goddess Nike.
“Don’t you dare blow her up, Hal!” Jane meant the statue which had been a childhood favorite. “Why are you even still here?”
“The door is locked.” Hal pointed a weirdly normal wood door in the shadows. There was a chair beside it, as if one of the elderly human guards sat in it, keeping library patrons from sneaking into the museum free.
“Why didn’t you blow it open?” Jane didn’t really want him to blow anything up, but his logic escaped her.
“It’s a library!” Hal cried.
She shot the deadbolt on the door. “Go!”