Mason heard none of it, but focussed totally on the Raven and the codex he was still gripping in his massive, tattooed hands. The man’s chest heaved up and down with adrenalin-charged hatred, and then he spoke, his lips barely visible through his thick goatee beard. “If you want it, come and get it!”
Mason stared at the man and realized that far from a mindless thug, a tortured, agonized soul was staring back at him. The man ended the tension by pulling a compact push dagger from his belt and pointing its blade at him. Mason reacted immediately, snatching a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee from a commuter behind him and hurling it in his face.
The Raven’s instinct was to raise his arm but even his lightning reaction wasn’t fast enough to stop the scolding liquid spraying into his face. He screamed with pain and whipped his hands up to his face to wipe away the smoking-hot coffee.
The woman screamed but the man next to her took one look at Mason and the Raven and decided to keep a low profile. The other passengers did nothing except take another step back. Some were trying to send texts to the police while others continued filming the violence unfolding before them in the hope of racking up some hits on their YouTube channels.
Mason took advantage of the moment and lunged toward him. He smacked the push dagger out of his hand with a Krav Maga disarming strike and slammed a fist into his face. The Raven rolled with the punch and struck back with a destructive blitz of punches and forced Mason onto the defensive.
At the other end of the carriage Zara was fighting with the woman. The Bride was almost inhumanly fast and agile, but her incredible fighting prowess didn’t faze Zara Dietrich for a second. She threw herself into the battle with her usual courage, desperate for another notch on her belt.
She ducked a savage Shaolin tornado kick that would have knocked her out if it had struck her in the head, and responded with a barrage of low kicks aimed at the Bride’s knees. She made contact with the woman’s shin, and she grunted as her bone absorbed the blow and took a quick, defensive step back.
She moved into the path of a young man in a Metallica t-shirt who had moved around behind her. Metallica grabbed her around her neck and squeezed but Zara knew at once it was a tactical error. The Bride took half a second to bring her elbow into his ribcage and forced him to release her. He doubled over in pain and without looking, Kiya flicked her arm up and brought the back of her right hand into his face, smacking him backward into the window.
The woman who was standing next to Metallica snatched a laptop off the seats and tried to bring it down on the Bride’s head, but she easily sidestepped her and smashed the computer out of her hand with a high-powered butterfly kick.
Silently impressed, Zara moved in for another attack and this time gained the advantage, forcing her back toward the door. The fighting was tough and she knew it would go right down to the wire, but a part of her was enjoying the challenge. Turned out Ezra Haven wasn’t kidding when he said these people possessed unmatched skills, but none of it frightened her — how could it with a past like hers?
At the other end of the carriage, Mason was dimly aware of Tekin falling to the floor. He was clutching a smashed, bleeding nose that had been delivered by his old friend, Caleb, who was now piling into the brawl with Mason and Dariush. The heavy-set American body-builder wasn’t in the mood for screwing around, but he knew he was no match for this guy’s martial arts skillset so he had to go easy and do it his way.
Mason was ducking and diving like a true cruiserweight, but even with his red, scolded eyes the Raven was slowly grinding him down with a brutal bombardment of kicks and punches from dozens of martial arts. He moved so swiftly it was like watching a Bruce Lee film on fast-forward.
“Need a hand there, buddy?” he said.
Mason ducked another tiger punch. “Wouldn’t say no, my old friend.”
“Should have asked,” Caleb said as he crashed into the Raven with his mightiest NFL shoulder barge and crushed him against the carriage door.
Mason looked shocked. “Nice job.”
“Linebacker in college,” Caleb said, almost apologetically.
Before he could respond, the darkness of the tunnel dispersed as the train pulled into Oxford Circus. Enraged and driven by revenge, Tekin delivered a savage head butt into Caleb’s face and pushed him away as he scrambled for the doors.
Seeing Mason still grappling with Dariush, Kiya called out to him. “Throw me the codex!”
Dariush tried to obey, but Mason smacked the ancient document from his hand before he had a chance to throw it to the Bride. It hit the floor of the carriage and skidded away toward the central doors.
Kiya stared at the codex, and distracted for half a second, Zara hammered a speedy palm strike into the woman’s chin, striking her head back and knocking her clean out of the train. She hit the platform hard and for a moment they all thought she was out cold, but then she scrambled to her feet. She called out to Tekin and they started to retreat into the crowd on the platform.
“Get after them!” Mason yelled.
The doors started to close but Caleb and Zara jumped clear with a second to spare and then started their pursuit of the enemy.
Mason turned to Dariush.
Both of them knew only one man would walk away with the codex.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
With Caleb and Zara giving pursuit, Kiya and Tekin were almost out of sight now, fleeing into the crowd of people on the platform. The doors closed and the train started to move away. Mason cursed as he watched them disappear, but he knew they had at least failed in their mission to snatch the codex from the museum. The offending article was still firmly in the grip of his opponent, and he was determined to get it back.
Mason grabbed the man by the throat and piled another hefty punch into his face. The man grunted as his head cracked against the carriage floor. He was getting tired and hoped the Raven would buckle soon. “Give me the fucking codex!”
Dariush responded by bringing his knee up and driving it into Mason’s ribs, winding him and forcing him back. Mason hit the carriage floor with a smack but quickly scrambled back to his feet. The enormous Raven rushed forward and swung a meaty fist at his face. It missed by millimeters and made Mason jolt his head back to avoid the blow, but the Raven was too fast. Before the Londoner could regain his balance, his opponent had swung his left foot out in an impressive arc and hooked Mason’s feet out from under him.
He went down again, this time striking the carriage door with a heavy smack. The pain seared through his back and neck, and nearly knocked him out, but he shook it off and got back to his feet once again.
By the time he had his balance back, Dariush had decided to retreat and was turning toward the doors. The train was fast approaching Bond Street and Mason guessed he was desperate to rendezvous with his associates.
As the man made a break for it, Mason scrambled toward him and gave chase in a last, desperate bid to get the codex back. Catching up with him a few meters down the carriage he leaped at his legs and brought him crashing to the floor with a powerful rugby tackle.
Still clutching the codex in his hand and desperate not to let go, Dariush howled in pain as his chest and face smashed down into the floor. Holding the codex out in front of him, he had cushioned the blow a little and stopped himself from breaking his ribs, but his chin and mouth were now crushed into a bloody pulp.
Spitting a broken tooth into the air, he kicked and squirmed to break free of Mason’s grip, all the time trying to keep hold of the precious codex in his hands.
“You bastard!” Mason yelled.
“Release me!”
“You’re wasting your breath, mate,” Mason said. “Your arse belongs to the cops and that codex belongs to me!”