“I hope you’re eventually going to explain what just happened,” Gretchen said as they ran.
“Happy to,” Juan said. “Let’s just hope I’m not explaining it to the police as well.”
They reached the aisle and saw the placard marked Lot XVI. Lying inside the container next to it was a fire-proof Nomex envelope. Juan unzipped it and saw L’Odyssée. They had originally planned to flip through it and take photos of each page, but they didn’t have time for that now. He zipped the envelope back up and tucked it into his waistband.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
It was Juan’s turn to be surprised when Gretchen fired twice down the aisle. He spun around to see Golov’s men, still clad in black, duck for cover.
“Come on,” Gretchen said. “The front door is right over here.”
They raced toward the exit and dashed outside to the police car waiting for them.
“Hop in!” MacD yelled. “Gomez is at the airport.”
Once they were in, MacD mashed the accelerator and drove off.
“Drop us at the car,” Juan said.
“We’re not headed to the helicopter?” Trono asked.
“Soon. We owe a favor to a couple of friends back there who might need a lift, Kurt Austin and Joe Zavala. You can’t miss Austin and his platinum hair. They won’t be at the loading dock. Too crowded. Look for them at a side door. We’ll meet you two at the airport as soon as you drop them wherever they’re staying and then ditch the police car.”
By now, fire engines were approaching. Police cars and half the security team from the auction were not far behind. Juan and Gretchen got out of the stolen police car and into the BMW. MacD and Trono sped away back to the warehouse to pick up Austin and Zavala.
“The auction is sure to be canceled now,” Gretchen said as Juan put the car into gear and slowly drove by the emergency vehicles heading for the warehouse.
Juan gave her the envelope holding the diary.
“It’s good you speak French and Greek,” he said, “because the only way we’re going to find ShadowFoe and our money now is to beat them to Napoleon’s treasure.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Golov stood at the bridge’s mahogany console, drumming his fingers, as he listened to Sirkal and O’Connor’s report about the warehouse raid. Except for Ivana, the rest of the crew had been sent off the bridge. Now that he no longer needed the services of the harbor pilot and they were out of Valletta’s harbor, Golov could steer the Achilles on his own. The task kept him from blowing up at his men and doing something he’d regret. Like killing them.
“Can you believe these guys?” Ivana said to her father. She was slumped in his captain’s chair, twirling her tablet in her fingers. “We spend two hours at that snooty party to get the keycard, and they let the one thing we need get taken by a couple who looked like they walked out of the pages of Vogue.”
“They were well trained,” Sirkal said. He stood ramrod straight, with his hands clasped behind him. “And they had help.”
“Bleedin’ right,” O’Connor said, leaning against the wall and munching on an apple. “Security guards, we could have taken care of easily. But how were we supposed to know they’d have a whole squad of soldiers in there? We were lucky to make it out without being hauled in by the police.”
Sirkal nodded thoughtfully. “By the way they handled their weapons, I would guess they’ve had military or law enforcement training. They might have been the same people who rescued Kula.”
“And you’re sure the diary is gone?” Ivana asked pointedly.
“Yes,” Sirkal said. “We saw them take it.”
“So you’ve now put this whole operation at risk. One that we’ve been planning for over a year.”
“What’s the big deal?” O’Connor said. “So they have the diary? How can they possibly stop us?”
“Because if they discover Napoleon’s treasure, they might find Alexei Polichev’s formulas.”
“You mean those mathematical equations you’ve been talking about? The ones that no one else has been able to duplicate in over two hundred years?”
“Exactly,” Ivana said. “No one can decipher the cryptographic algorithms I developed based on Polichev’s work. Antonovich found the only known documents with his formulas. But if the equations still exist in the treasure Napoleon took from Moscow and someone else finds them, o
ur entire operation will be compromised. They could track down the money by rebuilding the encrypted databases.”