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“Do you remember what happened?”
He thought, shook his head. “No, but maybe it will all come back once my head is clear.”
She’d tell him later of the video of his kidnapping, but not now.
“I remember I saw the news about the stolen staff from the Topkapi. Well done, a good, clean job.”
“Yes, it was, and I got away clean, too, but it was the clients who tried to kill me in Venice. Then they took you for leverage after I escaped.”
Leverage, such a bloodless word. He knew she’d planned to give herself up for him, her life for his. He felt fury and pain, in equal measures. But now wasn’t the time. “Where are we?”
“Castel Rigone, a small town north of Castiglione del Lago. It’s a huge old palazzo owned by the Kohaths, the people who hired me to steal the staff.”
His brain latched on to that. They were in the middle of Italy. “But why would they try to kill you? You did your job. Why?”
“I’ll tell you everything, but later, Grant. We’ve got to move.”
“I know, they’ll be coming back to pump more ketamine into me. Okay, let’s try.”
She put a shoulder beneath his and tried to haul him to his feet, but his coordination wasn’t back yet. He sagged against her. “Don’t tell me you managed to break in here alone?”
“I called Drummond for help. It’s not just help for you and me, Grant, there’s big trouble and now they’re in the middle of it. We’re in a very old store room beneath the palazzo. There are excavation tunnels leading to the outside. We have to be careful, but we can make it. Come on, you can do it.”
He wanted to laugh at the irony of it but couldn’t find the energy. He had to move. If there was one guard coming with a needle then he knew Kitsune could take him down, but more than one? He said, “I wish we had my team here rather than Drummond. They’d tear this place to the ground.”
“I think Drummond notified them, but I don’t know anything more. Let’s try again. Come on, soldier, you can do it. You have to do it.”
But it was too late. There were no warning footsteps. A large man suddenly appeared in the doorway, a Maglite attached to the nose of the M4 strapped across his chest, his finger ready on the trigger.
“Now what have we here?” Another Brit. A light shined in her face. “Who are you, cutie? How did you even get in here?”
Kitsune let go of Grant, jerked out her Walther, and pointed it at him. “Go to hell!”
She heard an echo of a laugh as his leg lashed out and her gun went flying. Fast, he was very fast, but she knew she could take him, even if she was in close quarters, no choice, and so she spun to the side and kicked out. He grabbed her ankle, twisted, and sent her flying into the wall. Kitsune had the breath knocked out of her, but she leaped up and ran out of the small room. He was Special-Forces skilled and she needed more space to maneuver to have a chance against him. He came at her again, eyes focused, ready, poised. She waved her Ka-Bar, cutting a wide swath in front of her.
Again he laughed. “I like women like you,” he said, and lunged for her, ducking when she slashed at him, spinning on his feet. She got him once in the shoulder, not all that deep, but it had to hurt and he cursed, called her a bitch, whipped around, and slammed his fist into her jaw. Fast, he was so very fast. She saw stars, but still she fought him even as he kicked the knife from her hand. She fought until he threw her again against the wall, headfirst, and everything went black.
Grant leaped on his back and slammed his fists against his ears, once and again, but he didn’t have the strength to pulverize his brain. The guard threw him onto his back, and kicked him until his head was swimming, his body screaming with pain, and he knew he was going to pass out. He saw Kitsune, his brave girl, lying motionless on the ground. He saw a syringe in the guard’s hand. And knew it was all over. For both of them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Nicholas stepped into the Blue Room. It was quite empty. Harry had stayed outside. Nicholas quickly moved out of sight of the door, placed his earwig. He heard Mike’s voice: “Perfect timing, Nicholas. The EMP is working. I’m in the stairwell. It’s very dark.”
He answered her with one tap, as a portion of the wall across the room opened with a soft click, and Cassandra Kohath stepped into the room. What? The queen staging her magic? “Agent Drummond? I’m Cassandra Kohath. Do join me.”
He gave her a nod. “Ms. Kohath.” Her beautiful face was politely composed, her eyes faintly inquiring, a perfect eyebrow arched.
“And what may I do for you this beautiful day?”
“Only answer a few questions. Why do you have so many guards? Aren’t you and your brother archaeologists? You’re hardly in need of protection, are you?”
“We run a large international company, Agent Drummond, with extremely valuable artifacts at our disposal. We are always careful. As for my guards here at the palazzo, I will admit, they tend to be overprotective.” She stuck out her hand. He shook it. “How nice to finally meet you, at last. Yours is now a household name. I’ve been told you were attacked during a tourist event in Saint Mark’s Square while visiting Venice. How terrible.”
“Yes, it was. You have quite a name in archaeological circles, I understand.”
“You’ve heard of me? How lovely.”
“It’s impossible not to know all about you. In Venice, we were attacked, yes, by trained operatives who did all they could to kill us. But I’m sure you know all about it. What part of England are you from?”
