Chase Baker and the Da Vinci Divinity (A Chase Baker Thriller Series Book 6) (9 page)

It takes a few moments for the rest of the team to check the
place, make sure it’s cleared not only of enemy combatants but also booby traps
such as IEDs. But when they return to the stone room, they reveal themselves to
be the Poseidon Brothers and even Deputy Inspector Millen. I fully expect the
meaty muscleheads to possess the God-given talent to clear a room at will, but
I never would have guessed Millen had it in him. I figured him for a desk
jockey only. But the man is a killer. Thank God he’s on our side. Thank God
they’re all on our side, Andrea included.

“What happened, Chase?” she says,
as soon as she has everyone’s attention. “Start from the beginning.”

I start from the start, with the
piece of old parchment slipped under my door, the words handwritten on it
presented as mirror writing just like da Vinci used, and the sketch that led me
directly to the da Vinci Museum. From there, I describe the cranky Dr. Belli
and the basement room with the wall-mounted mural of
The Last Supper
and
Jesus’ hair blowing in the wind, indicating a hidden door in the wall.

“The note,” Millen says. “Did you
catch a glimpse of the man or woman who slipped it under your door?”

“Not at all,” I say. “I went after
the individual, but he or she was already long gone, or very well hidden.”

“The doctor in charge of the
museum,” Andrea goes on, “you think it’s possible he’s the one who alerted this
ISIS or ISIS-like cell about your interest in the
Book of Truths
?”

“All I know is, I saw him on the
phone immediately after I exited the store,” I explain. “My guess is if you’re
already aware of two separate parties interested in the da Vinci cave, it would
make sense there’d be others. Good and bad.”

Andrea shoots a glance at Millen.
He nods.

“I’ll come clean, Chase,” she says.
“We’ve been suspecting for some time that ISIS might be making a play for the
cave also. That’s why we brought them up earlier during the briefing. But we
couldn’t be sure how organized they were. How capable. Of course, that means,
like us, they need the
Book of Truths
.”

I glance at the Poseidon Brothers
standing by the open door, each of them smoking cigarettes. Andrea and Millen
in their tactical gear, HK33s connected to chest-mounts. What the hell,
exactly, have I gotten myself into? And will I live long enough to see it
through?

Unzipping the orange jumper, I pull
it off, toss it into the corner of the stone room.

“You know what I think?” I say.

“We’re paying you for your expert
opinion, Chase,” Millen says.

“I think that son of bitch, Dr.
Belli, knows a hell of a lot more about the
Book of Truths
and the cave
than he lets on.” I pat down my right rib cage, feel the empty space. “I also
think my .45 is missing.”

“One step ahead of you, mate,”
comes the booming voice of Poseidon Brother Jackie. He steps out of the room,
comes back in with a plastic shopping bag bearing the name and colorful logo of
the Leonardo da Vinci Museum, hands it to me.

“Much appreciated,” I say.

Peering into the heavy bag, I not
only see my piece and the two extra mags that belong to it, but I also spot my MI16-issued
smartphone and the big glossy art book I purchased at the museum earlier.

“Looks like I’m not entirely out of
luck,” I say, shoving the pistol back into my shoulder holster. “You guys mind
giving me a lift home?”

“Not at all,” Andrea says. “You’re
closer to home than you think.”

We all pile out of the room, head
up several steps of old stone stairs and out onto a section of urban
neighborhood that looks entirely familiar to me. It’s the back door to the
Florence Museum of the Dark Ages.

Ringing through the distance, from the
direction of the Duomo: sirens.

“Shouldn’t we make a play for the
owners of this joint?” I say “Or maybe go have a little conversation with Dr.
Belli next door?”

“We need to regroup,” Andrea says. “Besides,
if you’ll notice, both venues have suddenly closed up and shuttered their
establishments for the day.” She looks around. “As it is, I can’t believe the
poliza aren’t all over this place already.”

The sirens getting louder.

“I think that’s the police now,” I
say.

“Let’s move, people,” Millen
insists.

As we pile back into the MI16
unmarked van, something occurs to me.

“Not that I’m complaining,” I assert,
“but how did you know where to find me in the first place?”

Andrea is shoved up against me in
the back seat.

“Those ISIS bastards might have
relieved you of your phone,” she says. “But they weren’t smart enough to
destroy it, or at least turn it off.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pull it
out. It still retains most of its charge and all of its bars are lit up like a
half Christmas tree.

“GPS,” I state the obvious.

“You didn’t think we’d hire you on
only to lose you, did you?”

I think about her words for a
moment. Think about the GPS plant, and how it led them to the ISIS cell.

“Why do I feel just a teensy bit
like bait?”

“Not a teensy bit,” Millen says, “more
like a big chunk of fresh meat dumped into a sea of sharks.” He smiles. “In our
business, it’s best to call a spade a spade.”

The sirens grow so loud, I half
expect to see the blue and white poliza cruisers turning the corner. Poseidon Jackie
pulls away from the curb, starts driving in the direction of my apartment.

“I’ll keep reminding myself I’m
doing a great service for my country,” I quip.

“You do that,” mumbles Poseidon
Bear from the shotgun seat. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

The van stops outside my apartment building on Via Guelfa. When
I slide out of the van’s back seat, Andrea automatically follows. She goes
around to the back of the vehicle, opens one of the two doors, grabs a stuffed duffel
bag.

“Where exactly do you think you’re
going?” I question.

Her thick, dark hair blows in the
breeze. Her face is still blackened by the camo, but that doesn’t steal away
any of her beauty. Regardless, doesn’t matter if our mission to locate the da
Vinci cave on behalf of God above and the good earth below
is
a mission
to save the world—she and her buddies used me as bait, and I nearly got my head
lobbed off because of it. Maybe I find her attractive as all hell. Christ,
maybe I even I’m falling for her. But my gut tells me she can’t be trusted.

“It will be safer if we work this
job together,” she says.

“So, what is this then?” I say,
raising my hand, making a sweeping gesture toward her duffel bag. “You’re
moving in?” I smile. “You move fast, girlfriend.”

“It’s not like that and you know
it. Now that we know for certain more than one party is after the location of
the cave, time is of the essence like never before. And two heads working
together will be better than one.”

“You used me as bait back there.
You’ve been lying to me pretty much since I met you at the Goose. How do I know
I can trust you?”

“If you perceive me as lying … If
you believe I’m trying to deceive you … think that me and my team are
placing your life in grave danger … then, by all means, quit now.” Cocking
her head over her shoulder in the direction of the idling van. “I’m sure Deputy
Inspector Millen will cut you a check for your services to date, plus a little
extra combat pay for the little unpleasantness you put up with back there in
that rat hole.”

The little unpleasantness …

For a moment, I say nothing while I
look into her deep brown pools and she looks into mine. Who will be the first
to blink? Neither one of us, it turns out. But something else manages to catch
my eye. A man walking quietly along Via Guelfa, in the direction of the old
stone fort on the far west end of the city. He’s wearing the long brown robe of
a monk, his face shadowed. The same monk I saw before the MI16 team kidnapped
me this morning? There are lots of priests, monks, and friars in Florence at any
given time. But there’s something about this one that makes my blood run cold.

After he passes, I refocus my eyes
on Andrea.

“You Brits,” I say, “always taking
the upper road while the rest of us crawl around in the mud.”

She smiles, blinks. “That’s the way
we like it, actually.”

“Okay,” I say, “come on up and let’s
try and let’s see if we can find this cave before the bad guys do.”

She heads to the van, speaks
something to the rest of the team through the open driver’s side window. When
she turns away, steps back up on the sidewalk, the van pulls away. Turning, she
approaches me while I unlock the door, hold it open for her. When she enters
into the building, I pat her on her perfectly shaped behind.

“So, that’s why you don’t mind my
teaming up with you,” she says, taking the stairs up to my apartment.

“Teamwork should have its perks,” I
say.

We’re not back inside my place for
more than a minute, the door locked and bolted, before I’m undressing her in
the vestibule. She’s wearing a utility belt and other tactical gear like a
chest-mounted radio, so it’s impossible for me to undress her entirely. We
start to laugh when we clumsily attempt to remove it all.

“You take care of everything from
the belt up,” I say. “I’ll take care of your boots.”

Taking her by the hand, I lead her
into the bedroom, sit her down on the bed. Bending, I pick up her left leg,
positioning her boot sole flat on my thigh, and unzip the shin-length zipper
all the way down to the heel, then pull it off. She’s wearing red socks with
green, red, and white Christmas trees and Santas on them. I can’t help but
laugh again.

“Nice socks,” I say. “I’m horny and
you’re festive.”

“Never mind, boyfriend,” she defends,
removing her radio, tossing it to the floor, “I was in a rush to save your ass.”

“I think I’m in love,” I say,
pulling off her other boot, exposing the second Christmas sock.

As soon as Andrea has pulled of her
shirt, exposing her beautiful breasts, she straightens up, unbuckles my belt.
She can plainly see how much I want her, how my nearly being killed only
moments ago has no effect on how I feel about her. Her beauty, her talents.

Does this mean I’m beginning to
trust her?

Not by a long shot. I’ll leave the
trust issue to my built-in shit detector. For now, I’ll leave love up to my heart.

Minutes later, we’re lying on our
backs on the bed.

“I might not trust you, Andrea,” I
whisper, “but I am most definitely falling for you.”

“Don’t fall too far,” she whispers
back. “Not yet. Let’s enjoy the moment we have together right now.” She takes
my hand, squeezes it. “Let’s love one another right now.”

And with that, I scoop her up with one
arm, press her into me as tightly as I can without hurting her.

“Fair enough,” I say. “I love you
right now.”

We hold one another for a while,
not saying anything. Not needing to say anything. My senses are heightened, if
not working at full throttle, as if after having come so close to death not
even an hour before, I am now living at an accelerated pace. I want to feel
everything I can. Taste everything. My life having been afforded a second
chance, I want to live a lifetime in mere seconds and then relive it again.

The front door to the building
opens.

Footsteps climbing the stone steps.
Stopping outside my door. The sound of paper being shoved underneath.

Reflex kicks in. I jump over
Andrea, off the bed and run to the door. In all my nakedness, I thrust the door
open. But again, no one’s there.

“Hey,” I shout at the top of my
lungs, neighbors be damned. “Who the hell are you?”

The front door slams closed.

“Chase, for God’s sake, you’re
naked!” Andrea shouts. “Close the door before you catch a cold … or get
arrested … or both.”

But I need to make an ID on this
man, whoever he is.

“Screw it,” I whisper to myself,
while running down the stairs to the front door. Thrusting it open, I look one
way and then the other. Just like the first time this happened earlier today,
there’s no one to be seen in either direction.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

Walking toward me is an elderly
lady. A lady who, more than likely, lives in the elderly home that’s been
converted from the old nunnery convent. Panic washes over me and I cover my sex
with both hands. That’s when the door closes and locks.

Shit …

“Buona sera,” I say, as the gray-haired
woman passes by smiling.

Turning back to the door, I pull on
the handle, as if it will open up by some miracle.

“Andrea?” I shout, while pressing
the buzzer for my apartment. “Andrea open the damn door!”