part0100

N iner leaned out from his position in the 1-2 tower, peering through his scope at the 1-4 corner opposite him, occupied by the final sentry manning the wall. He placed his finger on the trigger and inhaled slowly, then whistled. The sentry leaned out to see what the fuss was about and Niner squeezed, putting one in the man’s head.

“One-Four down.”

“This is Control, confirmed all six targets have been eliminated.”

“Rapunzel, let down your hair,” said Dawson over the comm. Niner tossed a bundle of rope over the side, wrapping one end around his waist and wrist. He felt a tug, and was joined moments later by Dawson. Niner leaned out as he rolled up the rope to see Spock scaling the wall to the opposite sentry position. He reached it unscathed and tossed a line down to Atlas. Niner activated his comm. “I’m glad I’m not you.”

“Tell me about it.”

Niner chuckled then became all business as Dawson assessed their position.

“Normally, I’d like to leave you here as overseer, but you’ve got no shot because of this paranoid design.” He switched to comms. “Control, can you confirm the courtyard is still empty?”

“Confirmed, Zero-One, all cameras show it empty.”

“Copy that. Freeze the image on any camera that has a shot of the courtyard so we can cross to the main entrance of the residence without anyone noticing us.”

“Roger that, stand by…okay, you’re good to go.”

“Copy that.” Dawson grabbed the rungs of the access ladder. “Bravo Team, proceed to the main entrance.” He slid down the ladder and Niner followed. Dawson confirmed they were still clear and indicated to Spock and Atlas on the other side of the courtyard to proceed. They all sprinted across the cobblestone and mounted the stairs, hugging the entrance.

“Control, status?”

“You’re all clear, Zero-One.”

Dawson examined the large double-doors they were pressed against. “Anybody on the other side of this thing?”

“If we assume we’re looking at the right door, you’ve got one guard.”

“Copy that. Is he moving or stationary?”

“He’s standing still with his back facing the door.”

“Good, freeze that.”

“Stand by…okay, frozen.”

Dawson knocked on the door as if he were delivering a pizza, and Niner smiled.

“Okay, Zero-One, he’s turning around, readying his weapon.”

“Is he going to open the door or fire?”

“It looks like he’s about to open it.”

The door opened and Dawson put a bullet in the guard’s head. He collapsed in a heap as the four operators swiftly entered, closing the door behind them. Niner grabbed the body with Atlas and hauled it into a closet to the left of the door.

Dawson headed left. “Let’s get this done.”

“Professors, it’s time.”

Kane stepped in front of them both. “Where are you taking them?”

“None of your concern. We got your message that you’re prepared to die, therefore you have no need to know anything beyond the fact your wish will be fulfilled.”

Kane shrugged. “If I’m going to die anyway, why not humor me?”

Acton placed a hand on Kane’s shoulder. “They’re just taking us to authenticate the Bible. Basically, confirm to the buyer that this is the one from the Guggenheim and that it wasn’t substituted with a fake.”

“That sounds interesting, can I come?”

The man at the door chuckled. “Nice try.” He stepped back. “Professors.”

Acton resisted the urge to show any affection toward his former student, everyone still maintaining the pretense that he was just part of their security team. They followed the man into the hallway and the door was closed. One guard was left on the door, the other accompanying them as they were led down a series of corridors and shown into a dark room with an impressive security door, a bright light shining down on the Bible that sat on a table in the middle of the room. A lone man stood on the opposite side, appearing impatient. The door closed, the guard remaining inside, their escort not joining them.

A voice boomed from a speaker, causing Acton to flinch. “Professor James Acton, Professor Laura Palmer, so nice to finally meet you at last.”

Acton recognized the voice and looked about the room for the source of the sound. “We’re not exactly meeting, now, are we?”

“If you are to live, then you cannot see my face, now can you?”

“I suppose I should be thanking you for being so thoughtful.”

D awson rounded the corner and squeezed the trigger. The lone guard at the door dropped, and Dawson frowned at the confirmation of what Langley had just relayed.

He opened the door and found Kane lying on a bed, his hands clasped behind his back. He smiled as Atlas tossed the dead guard’s body into the corner, under the camera. “Control, Zero-One, do you have him looped like that?”

“Affirmative. We’re looping the video now. You’re clear in that room, over.”

Everyone crammed into the room, out of sight of any roaming patrols or staff.

“About time you guys got here.”

Dawson shrugged. “It’s a beautiful place. We wanted to take in a few of the local sites, catch a show. You know, the usual.”

Kane climbed out of the bed, fishing his comm gear out of his junk drawer. “They just took the professors down the hall, maybe thirty seconds before you arrived.”

“Control, do you have them?”

“Yes, they went into a room with no eyes. We’ll guide you in.”

“Copy that.” Dawson put a hand on the doorknob. “We’ve taken out eight hostiles so far, that leaves four more.”

Kane smiled as he comm’d up. “I like those odds a lot better. Weapon?” Niner handed him a Glock and a couple of mags. “Control, Whiskers. Do you have eyes on the other four hostiles?”

“Welcome back, Whiskers, we were tired of listening to the boys.”

“Huh?” Niner appeared offended.

Kane pointed at his junk and Niner nodded in understanding, winking.

“We have one of them outside the entrance to the room the professors were taken into. The other three we don’t have eyes on. We know one went inside with the professors, and the other two might have already been in there.”

“Copy that. Let’s see if we can take out those two and improve the odds even more.”

G erhard leaned back in his chair, waiting for the call that the business was concluded. He loved his job, admired his employer, and other than the solitariness of his life, he thoroughly enjoyed his position. His salary was significant, and with no expenses, it sat safe in various accounts around the world, waiting for the day he would retire.

And that day would soon be here.

Richter had gone too far this time, and had gone against his advice. As much as he admired and respected the man, the authorities would catch up to him. That much was certain with the arrival of the man who had commandeered the car sent for the buyer.

An emergency flash appeared on his screen and he cursed at the communique informing him that their headquarters in Berlin was being searched.

Now the question was, did he leave now, or did he wait to inform Richter.

The phone on his desk beeped and he answered it. “This is Gerhard.”

“Sir, we’ve got a problem.”

Gerhard tensed as he noted the extension was for the security center. “What is it?”

“None of our sentries are answering their comms.”

His heart rate picked up. “None?”

“Is it a comms failure?”

“That’s what we thought at first, sir, but then we lost contact with our man on the front entrance, and moments ago, we lost contact with our sentry guarding our infiltrator and the professors.”

“Have you notified Mr. Kriel?”

“We can’t, sir. He’s inside the secure room. There’s no communication possible inside there.”

“Then contact the guard at the door and tell him something is going on. Then get every man you can to that room and secure it. I’ll be there momentarily.”

“It was like that when it was discovered,” explained Acton. “We have no explanation as to why, but the fact it was nearly split at the middle, we assume it was for convenience purposes as opposed to anything spiritual.”

The buyer continued to circle the piece, posing his questions, all of which Acton and Laura answered honestly, as there was no possible benefit to lying at this point.

“How can I be certain this is the same one that was at the museum? How can I be certain it isn’t a fake?”

“There’d simply be no time. We were on the run the moment it was handed to us.”

“Yes, yes, you stole a boat then were put on a plane and brought here. I know you had no opportunity, but how do I know the man behind the curtain didn’t replace it.”

Laura placed a hand on the table beside the Bible. “Because he wouldn’t have known what to replace it with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, only images of a few pages had been released before the beginning of the gala. High-resolution digital images of each page were released publicly yesterday morning. There’d be no time to recreate it. Not on vellum. This isn’t like pressing a button and loading vellum into your LaserJet printer.”

The buyer’s head bobbed as he squeezed a corner of one of the pages between his fingers, as if confirming it was indeed vellum.

An intercom beeped at the door followed by a man’s voice. “Sir, we may have a security breach.”

A large man in the shadows, armed to the teeth, emerged, and Acton was surprised at how intimidated he felt. “Explain.”

“We’ve lost comms with eight of our men including all six sentries.”

“Eight? Comms failure?”

“Negative, sir, comms are working fine, they’re just not responding.”

“Understood. Don’t let anybody get past your position.”

The buyer looked at the man. “Should we be leaving?”

“No, sir, this is the safest room in the complex. There is no way anyone is getting in here.” He motioned at the other guard who had accompanied them from their room. “Get out there. Nobody gets through.”

He then pointed to a dark corner of the room. “You too.”

Another man emerged from the shadows, scaring the shit out of Acton, who hadn’t noticed him the entire time. Both strode out and the door sealed shut with a hiss.

Leaving Acton nervous and hopeful.

“Copy that, Control.” Dawson peered around the corner and was immediately made, one of the men raising his SMG and squeezing the trigger, sending a dozen rounds toward him. He ducked back and dropped to the floor as Atlas tossed a flashbang toward the enemy position.

Dawson heard something odd and cursed. “It’s been returned!”

Everyone pressed their hands to their ears, their tactical earphones only doing so much as they squeezed their eyes shut. The grenade exploded just around the corner, somebody obviously on the soccer team in their youth having punted it back.

Yet it still would have them taking cover.

Dawson leaned out, spraying lead at the position, the smoke filling the hallway making it hard to see the enemy. Someone cried out and Dawson kept firing as Niner and Spock swung out low, adding to the wall of lead, Atlas covering their six. They advanced quickly, taking advantage of the confusion, and within moments it was over, the smoke clearing, revealing three dead enemy targets.

And a very secure-looking door.

Dawson pointed at it. “Niner, see what you can do with that.”

Niner went to work, placing several charges, then they all stepped back. “Fire in the hole.”

The blast was deafening, and it took a while for the dust to clear, only to reveal a slightly damaged door.

Niner shook his head. “We’re going to need a tank to get through that.”

G erhard sprinted toward the gunfire, a weapon he barely knew how to use gripped in his hand. What he thought he could do, he didn’t know. It was foolish. He was a butler. Yes, he was more than the domestic servant. He helped manage Richter’s various philanthropic ventures, his commitment to the cause allowing him to sleep at night guilt-free of the fact they were constantly breaking the law.

Unjust laws should be broken, and any laws that allowed cruelty and enslavement of animals were unjust.

Yet he was still a mere butler, and whoever was attacking the compound had taken out at least eight highly trained mercenaries.

But he couldn’t stop himself for some reason.

He came around the final corner and skidded to a halt at the sight of five heavily armed men in front of him. He leaped back as someone shouted, “Gun!”

Gunfire erupted and he stuck his pistol around the corner, firing blindly, his eyes squeezed shut as he trembled with fear.

A tlas tossed another flashbang as they all hit the deck, their opponent firing blindly and wildly, most of his shots hitting the ceiling. The explosion resulted in a cry of agony as the man’s senses were overwhelmed.

The gunfire stopped.

They rushed his position, and moments later had him on his stomach, disarmed, his feet and ankles bound. Atlas propped him up against the wall.

“How do we get in that room?” demanded Dawson.

The man shook his head. “You can only get in from the inside.”

“Bullshit. That would mean someone would always have to be in there, and you and I both know that’s not the truth. How do you open it?”

The man sighed. “You need a code. I don’t have it, only my employer does.”

“Is he inside that room?”

The man looked away, clenching his jaw.

Dawson kicked him in the gut. “Talk!”

The man gasped for breath. “No. He left a while ago. He’s gone. You’re too late.”

“Sorry, I call bullshit on that too. We’ve had satellite coverage on this entire area. Nobody has left since we’ve been monitoring. We know he’s still here.”

The man’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine, it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s in his saferoom. There’s no way you’re getting in there.”

“I don’t care about him. I care about the professors, and that’s it. Get us into that room, we get the professors, we leave, end of story. The authorities can deal with your employer. Just get him to open the door to let the professors out, and this can all be over in the next sixty seconds.”

“He’ll never let you in. It’s impossible.”

“Because the room the professors are in is part of the saferoom. If you go through that door, then you have access to him. He’ll never allow it.”

Dawson cursed and stepped away, activating his comm. “Control, we’ve got a problem. The professors are inside some sort of saferoom, and the only way in is either with a code or for the door to be opened from the inside. Suggestions?”

R ichter’s heart pounded with genuine fear, something he couldn’t recall feeling in years, if ever. As the attack unfolded on the segregated security cameras outside his saferoom, his panic continued to grow, until he finally thought to act.

He picked up his phone and hit one of the pre-programmed numbers. It was answered on the second ring.

“We have a problem here.”

“We’re under attack. My security team is dead.”

“How many hostiles?”

He peered at the cameras, everything a mass of confusion to his overwhelmed emotions. “I can’t be sure. At least five, maybe more. They’re well-equipped and they took out my team far too easily.”