“What do you want?”
“You know what I want.” The man smiled. There was something sinister, almost reptilian about it. “I want the mask.”
Goddard met his smile, with a show of bravado and confidence that surprised himself. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific. I’m a fine arts and antiquities dealer — I work with a lot of masks. Is there one in particular you’re after?”
“You know I’m talking about the Neanderthal key.”
Goddard spread his hands in supplication. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mr. Sneakers gave a half shrug. “In that case, all I want from you is to die.”
A second later, the bell tower’s three bells chimed in D major.
And a single shot fired.
Chapter Forty
Sam launched himself at the blond-haired assassin.
He collided with the man’s shoulder at the same time the man squeezed the trigger of his silenced handgun.
It made a sharp, raspy, sound as the shot fired.
Both men hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of Sam’s lungs.
The shooter tried to squeeze off two more shots in the split second afterward. Sam gripped the man’s trigger hand, smashing it against the marble stonework beneath.
The blond-haired man grunted as his knuckles bloodied, but he didn’t lose grip of the weapon. Sam swung his fist at the shooter’s face, but the man shifted his position with the speed and efficiency of an elite soldier, absorbing the hit on his well-protected, muscular shoulder instead, and using the momentum to roll away quickly. Sam tried to keep hold of the man’s wrist, but he yanked it free.
Both men came to a stop three feet away from each other.
Still on the ground, the assassin lined his Glock up, targeting Sam.
Spotting the weapon, and unable to clear the distance in time, Sam rolled out of the way. He gritted his teeth, expecting the life ending blow to follow in an instant.
Instead, Andrew Goddard kicked the Glock with the might of a champion football player. The handgun came free from their attacker’s grip, and slid across the marble tiles several feet before falling free, disappearing into the canal below.
The assassin pushed himself off the floor, jumping to a standing position. His eyes darted defiantly between Sam and Goddard, before he opened a flick knife from an unseen pocket. The man grinned as he slashed viciously at Goddard.
Sam shouted, “Tom! Over here…”
Behind him, Tom picked up a four-foot steel temporary fence post, and, gripping it like a baseball bat, he swung the now lethal weapon toward the assassin.
The blond-haired man looked defiant for a moment, and then turned to run.
Andrew Goddard turned to face them. His face reminded Sam of a wizard. He wore his wispy gray hair tidily swept back. Beneath his trim beard, he had an ascetic face, with bony features and a protracted jawline. His intelligent blue eyes met Sam directly, and he smiled warmly.
“Thank you, for saving my life. I’m Andrew Goddard, by the way.” The man looked down his long nose at him. “And you are?”
“Sam Reilly.” Sam turned to Tom, “And this is Tom Bower.”
“Good God!” Goddard said, shaking his head. “What are you doing here?”
Sam cheeks dimpled as he grinned. “Well, actually, I was looking for you.”
“Why?”
“Well, to be honest, I wanted to warn you that your life was in danger.”
Goddard raised his eyebrows. “Yes, well I think I worked that one out for myself. All the same, I must thank you both again for saving my life.”
Sam said, “If it’s all the same to you, I think we’d better get out of here, before your friend tries to rectify that.”
Goddard turned his gaze in the direction that their attacker had run off. “Agreed.”
All three of them climbed onto the wooden motor boat and Tom switched it on, starting the powerful V8 engine.
Sam removed the bow line and pushed off from the jetty.
Goddard said, “You’ll have to fill me in on how you knew I was in danger.”
“And you’ll have to fill me in on how you know who I am?” Sam said. “But I’m afraid that’s all going to have to wait, because we have company…”
Chapter Forty-One
The machinegun bullets raked the water just ten feet away.
Sam and Goddard ducked to the floor, as Tom gunned the throttle, and the motorboat raced ahead east along Rio de Santa Marina. Their boat lifted up onto the aquaplane within seconds as it skimmed along the narrow canal.
Edging his eyes above the wooden stern, Sam spotted the boat in pursuit. It looked more like a predator than a pleasure craft. It had sharp lines, angled in various directions and was covered in matte black paint like a stealth fighter jet. The sports boat’s twin engines made a deafening roar, as its skipper worked to close the gap.
Tom swung the motorboat to the right, into Rio de la Tetta.
Sam braced his back against the leather seat behind him, and started removing the leather cover from the seat ahead, throwing everything and anything in his way over his shoulder.
Behind them, the stealth boat narrowed the gap.
Two people were now firing at them.
“You’d better hurry, Sam!” Tom shouted. “I can’t keep ahead of them for much longer.”
“I’m working on it!”
“Great… if you could work faster…”
“I’ll try.”
Sam cursed and threw a series of oily rags, and mechanical tools out from the storage compartment, to reveal an empty container.
Sam shouted, “It’s not there!”
Tom shrugged. “Try the portside!”
“What are you looking for?” Goddard asked.
Sam, focused on his task at hand, ignored the question, and quickly popped the wooden latches to the portside storage compartment.
It opened first go, revealing an M24 bolt-action 7.62×51mm Sniper Rifle.
Goddard’s jaw opened and his cobalt blue eyes widened. “For God’s sake, if you had a sniper rifle all this time, why didn’t you take it with you before!”
Sam opened the bipod, mounting it onto the wooden stern. “It’s not exactly the most secretive device to carry. Besides, do you really suggest I should bring a sniper rifle into a cathedral?”
“Perhaps a small weapon, like a Berretta would have been more the thing?”
“I’m sure it would have been, but recent anti-terrorism laws, have introduced metal detectors throughout parts of Venice. Besides, if you thought your life was in danger, why didn’t you think of it?”
“At sixty-one, I thought my days of playing Indiana Jones were over…”
Tom shouted, “Duck!”
The motorboat swung round a sharp bend into Rio de San Zulan beneath a shallow bridge. On the other side, Tom gunned the engine, and the boat quickly came alive onto the aquaplane. A small group of gondolas made their way along the narrow river.
“Out of the way!” Tom yelled, as he swerved to the left of them.
The sniper rifle slid out of its position onto the floor.
Sam swore, as he picked it up again, setting it back on its bipod mount.
Behind them, the bigger stealth boat raced through, causing the tourists and gondoliers to jump from their gondolas. An instant later, the stealth boat slammed through the gondolas, sending them flying into the air in shards of splintered wood.
Sam loaded the 7.62×51mm NATO shot into the chamber, and stared down the telescopic sight. He eyed the skipper at the wheel, and squeezed the trigger.
The shot splintered the fiberglass hull to the right of the skipper, but it was enough to give the man pause.