“Dr. Oren,” called Ava. “We’ve got it. Let’s go home.”
“I can’t,” said Oren, his hands clawing at the dirt. “I can’t.”
“Move your ass,” shouted Benny. “Unless you want it shot off. Do you hear that?”
Oren lifted his head an inch off the ground. He nodded.
“Now,” said Ava kindly. “We have to go.”
Oren clambered to his feet. He blinked madly, brushing the dirt and gravel off his uniform, taking stock of himself. “I’m better,” he said. A pronouncement. “I’m not frightened anymore.”
A bullet struck his forehead dead center. Blood and bone and brain sprayed from the rear of his skull. He dropped to the ground like a rag doll.
“Take Samson,” said Ava. “I’ll get Dr. Oren.”
“He’s dead,” said Benny. “Leave him.”
“We don’t do that.” Ava slung her Uzi behind her back. She handed the device to Benny. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”
“And if you’re not?” Benny turned and ran before she could answer.
Ava knelt and slid an arm under Oren’s body. She hauled him to a sitting position, then lifted him by his hips and hoisted him over a shoulder. He was small, bone thin. Even so, she struggled beneath his weight.
Ahead, Benny reached the truck. He threw Samson into the rear seat and secured it inside its protective case. He gave Ava a thumbs-up,then jumped behind the wheel. He fired the engine. The truck’s headlights illuminated.
“No,” screamed Ava. “Off! Off!”
Before the words had left her mouth, machine gun fire raked the truck. A rain of bullets struck the hood, the engine block, the windshield. Tires burst. Glass shattered. The barrage intensified until the vehicle seemed to be dancing. A bullet punctured the gas tank. There was an explosion.
Ava looked over her shoulder. It was no good. They were too close. Any moment, she would be caught in their beams.
Still, she couldn’t run away.
She laid Jonny Oren onto the ground and ran to the truck. Flames enveloped the chassis. She had a glimpse of Benny, or what was left of him. She darted into the fire and grabbed the door handle. The metal scorched her fingers. She yanked with all her might. The door was jammed.
There it was: Samson in its protective case. So close. She pulled harder. The smell of cauterized flesh stung her nose. Again, she pulled, but no.
A bullet grazed her ear, stunning her. She stumbled away from the car.
Still, she refused to run.
Ava dropped to a knee and pulled the Uzi to her shoulder. The first trucks came into sight. She could see the green-and-black banners whipping in the wind; the soldiers, scarves covering their faces, Kalashnikovs at the ready. There were fifty of them, maybe more. Too many.
Ava lowered the Uzi.
“God help us, everyone,” she whispered.
She ran into the night.
Part I
Chapter 1
Restaurant Jules Verne
Paris, France
Mac Dekker didn’t know a ring could be so heavy. A gold band. A two-carat diamond solitaire. A jewelry box. Together they couldn’t weigh more than a few ounces. He shifted in his chair. So, why was it that he felt as if he were carrying a hand grenade in his pocket?
