“Damn, baby,” Zara said. “What the hell’s it doing in Rome?”
Gaston said, “Throughout history Rome was traditionally seen as the center of culture in Europe, for all the obvious historical reasons, but that all changed during the reign of Napoleon.”
“If you ask me,” Ben said wearily, “it doesn’t sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“How dare you!” Gaston said. “How was I to know what you were seeking wasn’t to be found in this room, but was instead in the other cassone?”
“I guess so.” Ben didn’t sound convinced.
Milo faced Gaston. “You said everything changed during the reign of Napoleon — how?”
Gaston puffed his chest out. “The Emperor desired the consolidation of all the most important religious and historical records of Europe. For historical reasons these records and archives were collected and stored in Rome, naturellement, but Napoleon decided they should be brought here to France, to Paris, because he wanted to make this city the cultural center of Europe.”
“Sure makes sense from an egomaniac point of view,” Caleb said.
“He started seizing the Vatican’s archives in 1799 during his initial Italian campaign, but he went much further, gradually taking the archives and records of the other lands he conquered.”
“And that’s why it’s in Rome,” Ben said. “Now I get it.”
“Oui… c’est très simple,” Gaston said nonchalantly. “When Napoleon died, the Pope demanded that the archives be restored to Rome, but not all of them made it. It proved to be too expensive for the Catholic Church to transport them all back, so many of them were left here in France, and there was much confusion. But you see, the codex you seek is inside the other cassone, and the other cassone was returned with the archives that went back to Rome. Today, it can only be in one place — the Vatican Secret Archives.”
“Oh, that’s okay then,” Virgil said. “I’m guessing they’ll just let us stroll in and take whatever we want. They’re not the most secretive place on Earth at all.”
“Listen,” Mason said firmly. “We’ll do what we have to do to secure the codex, and then…”
His words were cut short by an enormous explosion which lifted him from his feet and blasted him across the archive room.
“Grenade!” Caleb yelled. “Dive!”
And then all hell broke loose.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
In the smoke and chaos, a dazed Jed Mason scrambled to his feet and made for the same cassone Eva was using for cover.
“Where’s my bag?” he said, searching for the missing asset. A cloud of plaster dust drifted like snowflakes to the floor.
“Over there,” Eva said, pointing to the blasted door.
“Dammit!” he yelled. “Cal! The bag!”
Caleb peered over the top of an upturned shelving unit and saw the bag.
Then they watched as a team of operatives in riot gear and gas masks burst into the room and fanned out in a defensive position. One of them headed straight for the bag.
“Spiders!” Zara cried out.
“And look whose company they’re keeping,” Milo said.
Mason stared with unbelieving eyes as he watched Kat Addington running alongside Linus Finn, Kyle Cage and the rest of the Spider crew. “I don’t believe this… how could she?”
“What is it?” Gaston said.
Mason felt the rage rise in him. “It’s time we made our excuses and left.”
“Who are these people?” the Luxembourger asked.
“They’re serious trouble,” Zara said. “And now they’ve gotten the goddam Istanbul asset.”
“Fuck it!” Milo said. “That’s everything we worked for! That’s my early retirement!”
“What’s in the bag, El?” Ben asked.
She gave him an apologetic look. “Raiders Rule #1, Ben: never talk the job.”
Before he could respond, she opened fire on the Spiders alongside the rest of her colleagues, but it was too late. It had been a lightning raid, and now they were disappearing into the grenade smoke.
“After them!” Mason said. “We need the asset secured before we go to Rome.”
“I’ll call the police from my office,” Gaston said. “It’s not far. Go on without me!”
Mason led the way, running back through the rubble-strewn floor of the archive room until he reached the blown-out entrance. The doors were hanging off their hinges, and several dead security guards were sprawled in the corridor outside. Arseholes, he thought. How could Kat be part of something like this?
“That way!” he said, pointing to another exploded door along the corridor to the right.
Bursting out into the day, it wasn’t hard to locate the Spiders. Not too many people in Paris wore black riot gear and had machine pistols over their shoulders. They were sprinting toward the Place Vauban to the south of the military museum where they’d parked their getaway rides.
Climbing onto half a dozen black Vespas they quickly kick-started them and zoomed away west into the traffic.
“Fuck it!” Mason said. “What now?”
“There!” Milo yelled.
He pointed to a bright green street-cleaning truck parked up at the side of the road. Its driver was crouched down at the side of the truck and trying to free something that was jamming the circular gutter brush.
Zara glared at Milo. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
“It’s all we have!”
They ran to the truck and Caleb climbed up into the driver’s seat. Ella, Milo and Eva joined him in the tiny cab, and Zara clung onto the side mirror extender. Mason, Virgil and Ben climbed onto the back of the truck as Caleb hit the gas. The truck surged forward, leaving the driver on the side of the street with the brush in his hands, and a string of curses on his lips.
Caleb powered the truck west along the Avenue du Tourville in pursuit of the Spiders, who had jumped a red light and were weaving in and out of traffic on the Place Joffre. Swerving right like a fighter plane display team, they quickly disappeared into the expansive parklands of the Champs de Mars.
Caleb swung right and the Eiffel Tower loomed into view ahead of them. Tourists ambling around with ice creams waved fists at the reckless bikers, but leaped for their lives when Caleb left the road and plowed the street cleaning truck over the kerb and into the park.
With his hands squeezed hard around the wheel, Caleb Jackson swung the municipal vehicle hard to the right and hit the gas again, powering it forward as fast as its diesel engine would allow. Looking ahead, he saw the Spider crew weaving deftly in and out of panicked tourists on the gravel pathways which ran the length of the Champs de Mars and converged beneath the Eiffel Tower.
On his left, Zara tapped on his window with the grip of her Glock.
He pushed it down and looked at her. “What?”
“Can’t you go any faster, Cal?”
He gave her a double take. “Sure I can, I just thought I’d take it easy for a while. You know, take in the sights. Enjoy the atmosphere.”
“Damn it, Cal! We’re losing them and you’re making jokes.”
“The pedal’s on the metal, Z,” he said, swallowing a string of abuse he felt like yelling at her. “We’re going as fast as we can.”
One of the Spiders riding pillion turned around and fired with a machine pistol peppering the front of the truck with bullets.
“My money’s on Iveta,” Zara said. ‘With Cruise driving the thing.”
Caleb swerved hard to dodge the attack and only just avoided plowing into one of the manicured plane trees marking the northern pathway.
“Holy crap, Cal!” Zara called out.
“We’re trying to hang on up here!” Mason yelled, banging on the cab’s roof.