“Bastards must be over there,” Mason muttered, and he knew he had only seconds before they would be gone forever. “This way.”
They moved faster now, speeding up the pace until they were almost at a jog. As they reached the bottom of the steps they saw several more armed policemen outside the entrance. They crossed the road and ran toward the sounds of chaos. Turning a corner they found themselves on Oxford Street in the middle of a scene of terror — a cab had smashed through a bus stop and its crumpled, smoking wreckage had come to a stop inside a store’s window display.
Passing a bus, he kept his gun raised as he cut over the road and hit the other sidewalk. Caleb and Zara were now crossing the road ahead of him, each keen to be the first into the fight.
“You see them?” he called out.
Zara shook her head as she scanned the mayhem. “No sign of the assholes yet.”
“Dammit!”
“Over there!” Caleb said. “They’re heading toward the underground station — and I see the codex!”
Mason saw it too, clutched tightly in the hand of the man the woman had called Dariush. “It’s now or never, guys. Let’s end this.”
Walking faster now, Kiya turned her head and located the tall man with the black hair and blue eyes. He seemed to be their leader — or was it the thin man in the suit with the American accent they had left back at the museum? She had to know more about them.
“Keep them busy!” she yelled and then snapped pictures of the three of them on her phone as Tekin and Dariush unleashed a savage volley of automatic fire from the two weapons.
Tekin aimed at the front tire of another bus and blasted the rubber to shreds. The bus collapsed down like a wounded dog and swerved into the center of the busy road. The driver struggled with the steering wheel but it was too late and the enormous vehicle struck the front of a black cab, shunting it around in a circle and pushing it in the path of more on-coming traffic.
A bright yellow Ferrari F12 raced into the mayhem. Aimed straight at the carnage in the middle of the road it was going too fast to stop. The driver spun the wheel hard to avoid a collision with the black cab but crashed into a Suzuki motorbike who was pulling out wide to avoid the same fate.
The smash was fast and hard; the motorcyclist sailed over the top of the sports car and landed on his back with a sickening cracking sound. The Ferrari crashed into the front of a shop with the Suzuki wedged under its front grille.
Kiya was satisfied that Tekin and Dariush were performing properly. They were defending their Bride at all costs and doing everything they could to make the mission a success. She was optimistic the Lion would also be satisfied. Chaos from order was the Hidden Hand’s precious gift to the world, and the high-ranking members of the order thrived on it. The mayhem was their sustenance. It gave them life to see others struggling to survive, and Kiya wanted to feel it more than anything; breathe in that sensation of total power that only the highest members knew.
She sprinted and jumped on to the roof of the Ferrari to get a better view of the assault. The confused and dazed driver pushed down his window and pulled himself half out to yell at her.
“What the fuck do you thi…”
She powered her knee-high boot into his face and knocked him out cold. She hadn’t even looked at him, and as he slumped back down inside the luxury car she kept her dark eyes fixed on the battle raging across the street. The Ravens were forcing the enemy back toward a newly formed police cordon.
“Nunc, imus!” she said.
Tekin and Dariush heard the sharp, almost metallic voice and obeyed at once, turning in their coats and running back toward the Bride.
Kiya turned and leaped from the roof of the Ferrari. The tails of her black trench coat flicked up into the air as she landed with a gentle thud on the oil-soaked sidewalk.
Flanked by her Ravens, she slid her unused gun back inside her holster and marched swiftly through the crowd. She ordered the men to knock out the CCTV as they weaved in and out of the panic, and they followed the orders to the letter, each choosing a different side of the street.
In perfect synchronicity, they blasted out every CCTV camera in their vision, and then, unseen, they followed their Bride toward Tottenham Court Road underground station.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mason, Zara and Caleb charged into the station’s entrance and scanned the crowd for any sign of Kiya and her Ravens. After the commotion back on Oxford Street, there was a heightened state of alert, and now a van of armed policemen raced past the station on its way to the chaos.
“There!” Zara said.
“I see them,” said Caleb. “Assholes at twelve o’clock.”
Mason looked ahead and saw the three OM acolytes slowly descending the escalator, like vampires returning to their lair after feeding on the blood of innocents.
Mason led the way through the slowly moving crowd, weaving through the commuters and tourists as he tried to draw closer to the enemy without alerting them of his presence. They were at the bottom of the escalator now, and turning a corner to get to the westbound platform.
“We have to get to them before they get on the train.”
“Can’t we just have the train stopped?” Caleb asked.
Zara shook her head. “I know cops, Cal. Even if they believed us it’s going to take too long, plus it’ll give them a heads up that we’re onto them.”
“Zara’s right,” Mason said. “Better we handle it ourselves, and don’t forget Ezra asked us to keep a lid on things. Bringing a major terror alert to the London Underground is probably not what he had in mind when he said that.” He turned to Caleb. “But he’s your friend — am I right?”
Caleb nodded. “You’re right.”
They made their way down the escalator. When they reached the bottom they heard a train pulling up, and by the time they turned the corner onto the platform Kiya and the Ravens were nowhere in sight. The platform was full of people exiting the train and heading in their direction toward the exit.
“They’re on the train,” Mason said. “They have to be.”
Mason led the team onto the rear carriage of the train and they started scanning for any sign of the thieves. “We’ll work our way to the front, but we have to work fast. If they get off at the next stop we could lose them.”
They made their way to the front of the train. They were building speed as they moved through the tunnel, and as Mason opened the door to the next carriage, he saw the woman and the men they had fought back at the British Museum.
And the codex.
Dariush was still gripping it in his hand. “Let’s take them out,” Caleb growled.
They charged toward them, knowing they had nowhere to run.
The three Hidden Hand cultists also knew they had nowhere to run, and it was time to make a stand.
Mason headed for Dariush, and Caleb took Tekin. Zara went for Kiya.
The former British soldier grappled the hulk of a man to the floor in the aisle between the rows of seats and started pummelling him with every boxing trick he knew. For a few seconds he thought it was going to be easy, but then everything Ezra had told him about the secret order was confirmed with grim accuracy and power when the man started to fight back.
As Dariush delivered a hefty smack with his boot right in the center of Mason’s face, he scrambled away and got to his feet. By now, the passengers were screaming and clearing out of the way, giving them room to fight. Many of the travelers whipped out their smart phones and started filming the brawl, and one man even yelled at them to keep fighting.