“With all teammates secure again,” Gray told Kat, “I’m going to break the silence with central command. Contact Director Crowe. I’ll have him coordinate ground support with the local authorities. I’ll call again as soon as we land. In the meantime, watch your back.”
“Roger that, Commander. We’ll be waiting for you.”
Gray hung up. He dialed the access number to Sigma command. It rang through a series of scrambled switchboards and finally connected.
“Logan Gregory.”
“Dr. Gregory, it’s Commander Pierce.”
“Commander—” The irritation rang in the one word.
Gray cut off an official scolding for his lack of communication. “I must speak to Painter Crowe immediately.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Commander. It’s nearly midnight here. The director left command about five hours ago. But no one knows where he went.” Aggravation clipped his words again, even harder-edged than his irritation at Gray.
At least Gray understood the man’s frustration. What was the director doing leaving central command at a time like this?
“He may have gone over to DARPA, to coordinate with Dr. McKnight,” Logan continued. “But I’m still ops leader for this mission. I want a full debriefing on your whereabouts.”
Gray suddenly felt uncomfortable speaking. Where had Painter Crowe gone? Or was he even gone? Ice chilled through him. Was Gregory blocking him from reaching the director? Somewhere there was a leak at Sigma. Who could he believe?
He weighed the odds—and did the only thing he could. Perhaps it was rash, but he had to go with his gut.
He hung up the phone, disconnecting the line.
He couldn’t risk it.
He had a jump on Dragon Court. He wouldn’t give it away.
5:35 A.M.
EIGHTY AIR miles away, Raoul listened to his contact’s report over his plane’s radio. A grin slowly spread. “And they’re still in the Pope’s Palace?”
“Yes, sir,” his spy said.
“And you know where they are inside.”
“Yes, sir.”
Raoul had called from his castle upon learning of Avignon. He had coordinated with some local talent on the ground in Marseilles. They had been sent to Avignon to hunt down the two operatives: the monsignor and that Sigma bitch who had speared his hand. They had been successful.
Raoul checked the plane’s clock. They would be landing in forty-four minutes.
“We can take them out anytime,” his spy said.
Raoul saw no need to delay. “Do it.”
5:39 A.M.
AVIGNON, FRANCE
KAT’S LIFE was saved by a penny.
Standing beside the firepit, she had been using the coin to pry open the battery compartment on her penlight. It flipped out of her fingers and to her toes. She bent to pick it up.
The crack of the pistol coincided with a shatter of stone from the wall beside her head.
Sniper.
Still bent over, Kat shoulder-rolled to the floor, pulling out her holstered Glock. She landed on her back and fired between her knees toward the dark doorway where the shots had come from.
She shot four times, a splay of fire to cover all angles.
She heard a satisfying grunt and the clatter of a gun to stone. Something heavy followed with a thud.
Rolling across the floor, she reached Vigor. The monsignor crouched near the top of the firepit tunnel. She handed him her gun. “Down,” she ordered. “Shoot anybody that comes into view.”
“What about you?”
“No, don’t shoot me.”
“I mean where are you going?”
“Hunting.” Kat had already extinguished their flashlights. She unhooked her night-vision goggles and pulled them over her eyes. “There might be more.” She freed a long steel blade from her belt.
With Vigor tucked down his hole, Kat moved to the door and checked the passage. The world was all shades of green. Even the blood. It was the only movement in the hallway, spreading in a pool from the prone body.
She sidled up to the man dressed in camouflage gear.
Mercenary.
Her shot had been lucky, clipping the man through the throat. She didn’t bother checking for a pulse. She grabbed his gun and crammed it into her own holster.
Staying low, she worked from passage to hall to room, circling the kitchen area. If there were any others, they’d be near. The aborted gunplay would’ve sent them into hiding. Foolish. They placed too much faith in firepower, counting on the sniper to do the work for them.
Kat worked the circuit efficiently. She came across no one.
Right.
She reached behind to the side pocket of her pack and removed the heavy plastic-wrapped package. She broke the seal with her thumb and lowered her hand to her hip.
Twisting around a corner, she stepped into the single hallway that funneled back to the kitchen. She stood taller and strode confidently, marching ahead.
Bait.
She balanced the blade in her right hand. Her left emptied the contents of the package across the floor behind her.
Rubberized ball bearings, coated with NPL Super Black.
Invisible to night-vision.
They littered the floor behind her, bouncing and rolling silently.
She headed to the kitchen, her back to the bulk of the palace. She didn’t hear the second man’s approach, but she heard his tumbled step behind her.
Dropping and twisting, she pivoted on a knee and threw her dagger with all the strength of her shoulder and skill of her wrist. It flew with deadly accuracy, piercing straight through the man’s mouth, open in surprise as his right heel slipped on one of the rubber bearings. His gun went off, the shot high, digging into the timbered rafters.
Then he was on his back, convulsing, pithed through the base of his skull.
Kat crossed to him, staying low, skating through the ball bearings.
By the time she reached him, he lay still. She yanked out her knife, confiscated his weapon, and retreated back to the kitchen. She waited another two full minutes for any sign of a third or fourth assassin.
The palace remained quiet.
Thunder rumbled in greater intensity beyond the walls. A series of blinding lightning flashes came through the high windows. The full brunt of the storm crashed across the high hill.
Finally confident they were alone, Kat called the all-clear to Vigor. He climbed back into view.
“Stay there,” she warned in case she was wrong.
She crossed back to the first body and searched it. As she feared, she found a cell phone.
Damn.
She sat there a moment, his cell phone in her hand. If the kill order had been given to the assassins, she knew for sure that their position in the palace must have been already relayed.