Working together, they used their collapsible shovels and Laurent’s ax to begin pulling down the wall. The areas with missing bricks offered vantage points to pry and break their way through. Russo, with her injured hand, helped by hauling and tossing broken debris out of the way. As more and more of the bulwark fell to their efforts, the work quickened—especially as what slowly revealed itself became apparent.
In less than twenty minutes, most of the wall had been cleared.
They all stepped back and inspected their handiwork.
“Christ almighty,” Archie mumbled.
“No wonder the army bricked this wall,” Duncan said.
Sharyn stared at the cracks and fissures that radiated across the dolomitic rock. It looked like a dark spiderweb. She pictured gasses flowing out of that expanse, filling these levels more heavily with poison.
Duncan frowned. “Even if the Axis forces didn’t know about the danger of seeping gas, they must have wanted to shore up this wall as a precaution.”
Sharyn felt sick and was sure she looked it. “If the army hadn’t bricked all this over, we might not have survived the night.”
Laurent nodded. “For the unwary, death would have come quickly. Which might have birthed the legend of a witch who killed trespassers.”
Sharyn swallowed. “To survive coming down here, to reach the hidden door, you’d need to move swiftly. To do that, you’d have to know in advancewhatyou were looking for. Knowledge that would only be gained if you knew about the site in Libya and learned its lessons.”
Laurent pointed to the wall. “You had to know to look forthat.”
Sharyn stared at the center of the poisonous spiderweb—where an alcove had been carved into the rock.
The perfect size to hold a book.
“We found it,” she said. “The entrance to the Second Adage’s vault.”
As they all gaped at the wonder before them, a new noise intruded, echoing from above. A heavy thumping. Faint, muffled by rock, but swiftly growing.
Duncan stared toward the roof. “A helicopter.”
The noise steadily rose—not only in volume but numbers.
“Not a copter,” Archie said. “Copters.”
Despite the poisonous air, Sharyn breathed harder. She knew what approached. It was not a group of heli-skiers looking for fresh powder. She pictured the aircraft descending upon San Vito.
She stated what they all knew. “TheConfrériefound us.”
“But how?” Duncan asked.
She knew that answer, too.
53
10:36 a.m.
Naomi spied upon the chalet from the backseat of a heated SUV. The vehicle was parked a block down from the hotel. Her knee jagged up and down, spurred by her anxiety.
“What’s taking so long?” she whined to the woman next to her.
“Pazienza.Antonio is on his way.”
Naomi stared out the SUV and scowled at the helmeted gunman posted at the hotel door. She had no idea how many more soldiers were inside. But if the chalet was still under guard, it offered some hope that Tag was still alive.
But for how much longer?
Half an hour ago, Naomi had watched a small army exit the hotel. They had swarmed around the man who had threatened her in the room, along with his companion in a clerical collar. They had left in a row of Land Rovers. Shortly thereafter, a trio of helicopters had lifted off from a site outside of town. The three aircraft had swung high in formation, then aimed for the neighboring mountain.
