The Emperor's Revenge (Oregon Files 11)

While Gretchen checked every placard they found along the way, Juan kept watch. At one point, he saw two black-clad forms that he thought were the Indian and redhead, but they disappeared into the darkness before he could be sure.

Soon after, two of the gunmen who’d been escorting the hostage crept into view. Juan motioned for Gretchen to get down, but the gunmen weren’t paying attention to them. Their eyes were focused on something above Juan and they raised their weapons.

He followed their gaze up until he saw a man crawling along the scaffolding above. When the light caught him briefly, Juan was shocked to realize he recognized him. He’d met the man only once, but he never forgot a face, particularly one who worked for NUMA.

It was Joe Zavala, a colleague of Special Projects Director Kurt Austin.

And he was about to get killed.

Juan leaped up and fired four quick shots at the gunmen, taking them down before they could get a bead on Zavala.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

TWENTY-THREE

Surprised by Juan’s shooting, Gretchen whipped her head around and then brought her Glock up in a fluid motion.

“Behind you!” She popped off three quick shots. Juan turned to see a gunman dragging his injured comrade back behind some crates.

Footsteps pounded in their direction from where he’d taken down the two men aiming at Zavala. A head poked around the corner and Juan fired twice more to keep him back. A submachine gun stuck out and fired a wild volley, but none of the rounds were close to hitting them. A stack of clay amphorae shattered in a cloud of shards and dust.

They huddled at the intersection, Juan firing in one direction and Gretchen in the other.

“MacD, this is the Chairman,” he said. “We’re getting pounded in here. We need extraction pronto!”

“On our way,” MacD said.

Automatic weapons fire chewed into the priceless artifacts around them.

Gretchen fired off a couple more rounds and slapped a new magazine into her Glock before letting off two more shots. “They’re surrounding us, Juan! We need to move now!”

She was right. They’d be cut to ribbons if they stayed where they were.

Juan motioned for her to follow him down the only route open to them. He was about to sprint for it when a third set of gunmen rushed toward them. Juan dove to cover Gretchen.

r /> He peered through a gap in the crates they were hiding behind. While the first two groups of men kept them pinned down, the third group was advancing and readying a block of C-4 to throw. Juan prepared himself to make a last stand before the C-4 blew them to bits.

The men with the C-4 were next to one of the water tanks when it was suddenly shattered by the cannon inside, sending down a wall of water that slammed the men into the shelves across from it.

A soaking wet man with a platinum shock of hair flowed out with the water and landed on top of one of the intruders. He punched the thug with a thunderous shot to the jaw and the man went limp. The man holding the C-4 was rising to his feet when a heavy object struck him in the head, thrown from the direction where Juan had seen Joe Zavala.

“Juan, this way!” the drenched man yelled.

Juan hesitated when he heard his named called. Gretchen peered around the crate in confusion.

The platinum-haired man pulled the electrical probes from the block of C-4 and turned in Juan’s direction. “Hurry! You’re getting surrounded.”

Juan was stunned by the man’s sudden appearance. He turned to Gretchen and said, “Go.”

They fired several shots to give themselves cover and ran over to crouch beside their new ally. It was now a standoff.

“Kurt Austin,” Juan said, shaking his head in disbelief at one of NUMA’s finest coming to his rescue. “What brings you to this shindig?”

“Saving your hide, by the looks of it,” Austin said, grabbing a pistol from the man he’d knocked cold. “And you?”

“Long story. It’s related to the thing in Monaco.”

By now, the intruders seemed less interested in getting to them. Perhaps they realized their numbers advantage had been whittled down. They could be spiriting away whatever they’d come for, maybe the same thing that he and Gretchen were after.