Boyd Morrison - The Midas Code

Grant stood up and smiled at the ringleader. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

Sal glanced at the other three, who rushed Grant. The degree of difficulty was harder this time, but nothing he hadn’t seen in the wrestling ring years before. Of course, those fights were scripted, but thanks to his Ranger training, Grant had learned a few more tricks.

He whipped around and threw an elbow into the chest of the man behind him, then kicked upward, connecting just under the chin of another guy, sending him flying backward. The third man was able to get a knee into Grant’s side, but Grant slapped the man on both ears simultaneously, likely shattering both eardrums.

Grant was feeling good about his progress in beating the crap out of six men when he heard the unmistakable snap of a police baton expanding. Too late, he turned to see Sal swing the baton around, catching him in the back. His kidneys exploded in pain from the impact of the baton’s steel tip, and he dropped to his knees.

Sal reared back for another blow. Grant swiped at his leg with one arm, knocking him over, but the distraction was enough to keep Grant from seeing a second baton sweep down.

A starburst blasted across his vision, and he had the vague sense to turn his head so that his teeth didn’t smash into the stone as he pitched forward.

He battled to remain conscious, if not for his own sake then for Tyler’s and Stacy’s, but the struggle lasted only another three seconds before a feeling of nausea overcame him and his world went black.

F or the third time, Tyler called Grant and couldn’t reach him. Having separated from Grant and the security team earlier in the day, he’d agreed to stay in regular contact. The last time they’d spoken was fifteen minutes ago.

Tyler and Stacy were standing in the nave of San Francesco di Paola, the church that formed the western edge of Piazza del Plebiscito. The church was behind the music stage, and the square was already filling with concertgoers ready for a night of songs and fireworks. Tyler thought the church would be a safe haven until they needed to venture out into the square to meet Orr. Their location would keep him in close proximity to Grant’s team in case Orr made a move early.

They had separated in the afternoon so that Tyler and Stacy could explore Naples, looking for the well Archimedes had identified. With Aiden’s help researching Italian databases and contacting different cultural organizations in the city, they had found four possible wells that might be the one Archimedes was leading them to. They could only hope the well they needed hadn’t been filled in during the intervening years since Orr and Cavano had seen it.

Tyler and Stacy had stopped to look for the sign of Scorpio in each well and found a cluster of dots on the inside of the third one that precisely matched the configuration of the Scorpio constellation. He had called Grant to tell him the location, and that was the last time they had spoken.

“What’s the matter?” Stacy said as Tyler eyed his phone with concern.

“Grant’s not answering.”

“Do you think he can’t get a signal?”

“Unlikely. And if he wasn’t getting one, he’d move somewhere else.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

Tyler tried the Neutralizer team members and couldn’t reach them, either. He didn’t like using Grant as bait, but he couldn’t imagine that Orr had been able to get the drop on him and the entire security team.

He put the backpack with the geolabe on the floor and checked the signal for the tracker they’d removed from the geolabe and given to Grant. Instead of broadcasting from the Palazzo Reale, it was en route away from the palace.

“The tracker’s on the move,” he said.

“What?”

“If it’s still with Grant, he’s heading north at a fast clip.”

“What do we do?” Stacy said.

“We abort until we know what happened to Grant.”

“But Carol-”

“Orr won’t kill her yet. Not when he’s this close. We’ll just postpone the meet.”

“Then we need to find Grant.”

“I’m going on my own.”

“But-”

“No buts. I can move faster by myself. I’ll find the tracker and assess the situation. If I can get him myself, I’ll do it. You need to hide someplace safe until I come back.”

“I hate doing that.”

“It’s for my safety, too. As long as you have the geolabe, we still have bargaining power. I’ll drop you off at an outof-the-way pensione. Give me two hours. If I’m not back in that time, call Miles Benson and he’ll help you. Do not meet with Orr on your own, no matter what he tells you.”

Stacy sighed. “Fine. But I don’t like this.”

“Your objection is noted,” Tyler said, putting the backpack on his shoulder. “Now let’s go get the car.”

He opened the front door to the breezeway outside. The semicircular colonnade embraced the piazza. Their car was in a lot to the north. He looked in both directions, but no one in the crowd paid any attention. With tens of thousands of people attending the concert and dozens of ways into the square, the chance that Orr would spot them was small, but with Grant no longer backing him up Tyler had to be prepared for anything.

He waved for Stacy to come out, and they weaved through the strolling crowd.

They had reached the end of the breezeway when a man in cargo pants and a U2 T-shirt stepped out from behind the last pillar and faced them. He had a jacket draped over his folded arms so that his hands weren’t visible.

He stared at Tyler. He had to be one of Orr’s men.

Tyler grabbed Stacy’s arm to run for it but froze when he felt the barrel of a pistol in his back.

“You’re early, Tyler,” Orr said behind him.

“So are you,” Tyler said.

“I had to change my plans. By the way, Gaul has a gun aimed at you.”

“I figured that out.”

With his free hand, Orr removed Tyler’s Leatherman from his pocket, tossed it to Gaul, and pocketed the Glock pistol he took from Tyler’s waistband. He didn’t bother to search Stacy. Her shorts and tank top couldn’t have hidden anything dangerous.

“I’ll take your phones,” Orr said.

Stacy whirled around with her fists clenched, ready to take on Orr, but Tyler grabbed her shoulders to stop her. Orr backed off but kept the gun trained on them from under his folded coat.

“What are you doing?” Stacy said. “They’re going to kill us!”

“If they wanted to kill us, they would have done it already.”

“Listen to Tyler, honey,” Orr said. “Now toss your phones to me.”

“Only if you never call me honey again.”

“Fair enough, sweetie.”

Stacy tensed again, before giving in. Tyler let her go. He took her phone and threw it to Orr along with his.

Orr dropped them both to the ground and stomped on them.

“Now we’re on our own. And finally the backpack. Slowly.”

Tyler didn’t move. “It won’t do you any good.”

“I’d just feel better holding it. I can shoot you in the leg and I’d get it anyway. Your choice.”

Tyler grudgingly held the backpack out for Orr, who took it and rested it on his shoulder.

“Good. Let’s go.” Orr motioned them forward, and he and Gaul fell into step behind them.

“Where are we going?” Tyler said.

“Where do you think?” Orr said.

“I don’t know. And you’re dreaming if you think we’re going to tell you where the well of Archimedes is. This is an exchange, and you haven’t offered us anything yet.”

“I do know where we’re going, thanks to Stacy. The church of San Lorenzo Maggiore near Piazza San Gaetano. You found it there.”